There is a tale I’ve heard told about an ancient king. Glendower, the Raven King. He sleeps in the forest somewhere, or so I’ve heard. Waiting for the waker—waiting to join us, the living, once again. Somewhere, Glendower sleeps, dreaming of the day he will be woken. Eager to walk through his lands once again.
Eager to grant the waker a wish.
That’s the tale I’ve heard told.
The tale of The Raven King.
A magical king. A wish-granter. A sleeper whose quiet breaths are full of life.
I’ve heard the tale of that king. Heard it several times, actually.
There’s more to the story than what there appears.
You see, I believe that something isn’t adding up.
There are… things… that can’t be explained by that tale.
Things that we, the listeners, have screwed up.
Things that we got wrong. Continue reading “King of Crows”
“Well… since you’ve come this far, I’ll let you inside—but don’t touch anything.”
“Uh, okay,” I replied.
“Not ‘okay’. You say ‘yes’ like you mean it.”
Huffing, the guy turned and walked back into the cottage. Not even bothering to make sure I was following.
“Shut the door on your way in,” he called over his shoulder, moving down a flight of steps.
I could feel it.
My nerves were bubbling. Oozing. All my veins were dancing, jittering against my bones.
All my life I’d waited for this. Looked for it. Sought after it.
I was finally here.
The Ocean Library. Continue reading “Between the Tides”
It wasn’t safe.
It had never been safe.
As I stare at the climbing trees and listen to the birds toss their remarks back and forth, I realize that.
It’s never been safe here.
And, honestly, I think I knew that all along. Because, really:
This is a jungle, after all.
A burning jungle. Continue reading “Burning Jungle”
There was a quiet song.
A lull in the void.
Static that, when focused, became edging. Drawing. Alluring. A song that gave promise to stars, and hope to blackholes. It punched through the continuum with gusto, displaying feasts and boasting of something sturdy on the edge of the horizon, something soft lurking at the very back of space itself. A river coaxing the fish out to something bigger, something better. A creek hidden in the foliage. A place to replenish when depleted.
There was a quiet song in the universe. One that I thought I heard only in my dreams.
But, that wasn’t so.
The song was real.
And it was beautiful.
It was loud.
And it was true to its word.
The song I followed into the universe…
It was you.
All along, there was only the one source. The one promise. Just the one.
It was you. Continue reading “Melody Beyond Imagination”
They didn’t speak of him. Not at all.
The king with the white mane.
A notch hanging off his ear.
Ridges gouged around his eyes.
He sat in the corner, silently. Watchfully. His tail swishing mindfully as the others ignored him. Steering clear of him, because of his odd color. His strange scars. Or, maybe, because of the way he seemed quiet. Daunting.
He was an anomaly, honestly. Something to marvel. To ponder. Something to observe, take in, and marvel.
And yet, there he was.
There, in the corner—away from all the others—he sat. Just the tiniest bit of sunlight shrinking in his eye.
The white lion. Continue reading “Waiting For Lions”
“Did you see it?! Did you see?!”
“I knew it! I was right, wasn’t I? It’s a ghost, right? Right?”
Looking back at the house—the empty mansion that sat in between the clearing and the woods—I saw the eyes again. In the upper floor’s window, I saw the yellow eyes. The lingering feeling of something lost. Of something in need of being found.
I could not say what it was.
“I don’t think it’s a ghost,” I said, crushing my friend’s hopes and dreams, quite coincidentally, really. “It doesn’t feel like a ghost.”
Ghosts don’t have that feeling of needing to be found, do they? When a ghost lingers, they linger for a reason. They aren’t lost, they don’t need to be found. They simply wish to be left to their own purposes. Left to fulfill their perceived duty.
They don’t look lost.
They don’t need to be found.
And they don’t look scared out of their whits.
Do they? Continue reading “Lost, But Not Found”
I have wandered. For my whole life, in fact. First through the mountains, then down the river, and now, I’m here. In the dip of the valley. Huddled between two mountains. The night greets me as it always does—as it always has. With silence and shadow. Places to run, to hide.
I never meant to come out of that darkness. To step into the beam of light.
She was hurt.
The small thing without fur.
On a cold night, she shivered against the itchy, dead grass. Life spilling from some spot on her body. The mountain cat still lingering nearby, frightened, though it’d done so much damage. Though it had fought—and won—against such a small, frail thing.
Always so skittish.
I offered to take the small thing from him, and he quickly gave me permission. Gave me his thanks. Ran off, back into the higher parts of the mountain. Where the pinkish things didn’t often tread.
I never meant to step into the light.
But that night, because of that foolish scaredy cat, and this dying little furless thing…
And it seems to have shaken me to my core. Brought me from the shadows into a place where light can touch. Where things are not what I’ve thought. A place of reality, and yet, it feels like an illusion.
A place with flesh-things. Continue reading “Grim Light”
The world moves onward.
That’s what we know. If nothing else is certain, there is that one, tiny, constant.
The world moves onward.
There was a time when we ravaged the land. When we raided from the sky. When humans fought us with all their might, because of our inner fire. Because we…
We were other.
Not part of them.
There was a time when we soared. When we fought alongside the people. When we weighed mountains in hand and cast them aside, simply for the sake of making bridges. To give peace, or to bring prosperity. Humans praised us. Thanked us. Loved us dearly.
Both places exist in time.
As old as they are, they exist.
Both times exist.
Though not in this place.
Because this time is a different time. Separated from the previous. This time is the time that is in the future. The time that is forward.
This is the time in which the world has moved onward.
We have not forgotten.
We move forward.
Continue reading “Lost Passion”
“I don’t understand why you’re following me.”
“You don’t have to be so grumpy about it.”
“Of course I do. If I’m not grumpy about it, you’ll think it’s okay to tag along, and it’s not.”
“And why not, huh? It isn’t like I’m going to slay the dragon for you or anything. I’m just tagging along for funzies.”
“For ‘funzies’?” She scoffed, and then followed up to really, truly, call him on his bluff. “What crap. Why are you actually following me? What’s your motive?”
The young man who wasn’t actually so young, and not so much human as he was man, stopped in his tracks, mirroring the woman.
And he smiled.
Lips sealed tight for a moment, he smiled. His eyes squinting automatically.
“I suppose you’ll have to wait and find out.”
And with that, they were off again. Though not by the woman’s choice. Not this time.
He took the lead, heading down the road she picked.
Ready to face the dragon. Continue reading “What’s In A Hero’s Path”
It’s so, so stupid.
I can hear the dog whistle.
It calls out to me, a long, shrilly whine. Breaks the barrier between real and fake. Breaks down every wall that’s ever been built. Breaks down every obstacle.
I’m no dog. And I sure as hell shouldn’t answer to a whistle.
What do I do when I hear it? When that stupid, piercing shriek hits my ears?
I take off running.
So, so stupid. Continue reading “When Called”