For a long time, I tried not to remember. Because remembering was dangerous. Could lead me back to it. To that lurking feeling. What waits in the shadows. That knowledge.
It was him.
It is him.
He’s here too.
For a long time, I tried to forget that.
Sometimes he just…
He takes over. Continue reading “A Call From the Dark”
It was dark. Hollow.
As I took the steps precariously with my limited eyes, I could feel them. Boring into me. Stars that winked, even in the dark. Unseen eyes that knew what I did not. Whose eyes understood further than my own could ever hope to reach.
Those eyes on me—knowing, waiting, watchful eyes—I continued the dark trek.
Entering the Temple of the Moon. Continue reading “The Moonlands”
A king is only as strong as his throne.
That’s why the Right of Kings is so important. Such a special, meaningful occasion. It’s a way for the king to make a declaration to the people. For him to show what it is that he’s about. What kind of ruler he will be.
The Right of Kings is when the king reveals his throne to the people. A throne that is of his own choosing, his own design, because, as I’ve said:
A king is only as strong as his throne.
And my throne?
It will be the strongest of all.
Continue reading “Kings and Thrones”
They say he died in the middle of that small, small pond. Defending a human child from some wild beasts. They say he died valiantly against a manticore—or maybe it was a drakken. They say that, when he died here, the pond grew. Ten feet longer, eons deeper. A small island sprouted in the midst of the pond, right in the center. Right where he took his last breath. A small island formed, and then, atop that small island, an oak tree grew. Tall and grizzled looking. Branches reaching outward, arms open, as if ready to embrace any who tread upon that small island.
That’s not true, is it?
That small island was not meant for just anyone.
It was meant for only a special someone.
Only meant for one.
One who seeks. Continue reading “Oak Speaks”
I remember being on the mountain. Seeing the hills below. The way they rolled on, coated with trees. Grass peeking out beneath the trellises of tickling winds. The way everything seemed serene down there. Peaceful. Calm.
I remember being on the mountain with you standing next to me. Proud to show me the view below. You weren’t like the other one. That one was proud because he thought it was better up here. Thought the snow and wind and height gave him something. And, to an extent, he wasn’t wrong.
Unlike you, he didn’t understand what it was the mountain was giving him.
What it was that made this place so special. So glorious. He didn’t understand.
The mountain gave him nothing but a view.
The world, as it is. As it was.
And down there, watching the people move their flocks in the valley, it gave him the greatest gift of all.
A picture of what will be. Continue reading “This Valley”
Beast Masters were hard to come by. It’s been said before that they’re a dying breed. Their secrets passing as the older generations held the secrets to the trade tight within their closed hands, refusing to pass them along.
I’m not sure if all that is true. If that’s really the reason why Beast Masters were hard to find. They were dying out, that’s for sure, and that seemed like a plausible reason, but, I don’t think that’s why they’re going out.
I don’t think that’s why at all.
Beast Masters were hard to come by.
Mine was more than willing to share his wisdom. Continue reading “Beast Master’s Mountain”
On Halloween, I met someone special.
I met a skeleton. Continue reading “Mournful Bones”
I don’t remember just being mighty.
I remember being majestic.
A whole constellation, a spilling of stars, smattered into the sky. Burned into the dark atmosphere like the proudest of marks. The most gorgeous of tattoos. A unified light that could guide, if need be.
I remember it.
But I’ve forgotten how to get there.
Forgotten how to get back to you.
Guide me back to being a constellation.
You need me.
Don’t you? Continue reading “To Fill A Constellation”
“What’s the best method then?”
She sighed, and her earrings fluttered with the movement. The beads and pearls shaking as her head wobbled.
“I’ve no idea. There are just… so many ways we could go about this. Picking the best will be difficult.”
“Then what would you go with?”
There was silence in the room. Silence, except for the screaming.
Though, Jethro assumed only he could hear that. After all, the spirits were only in his own head. Trapped there. In all likelihood, he was the only one who heard the screams.
The lady scratched at her arm.
“I’d go with an ax.” Continue reading “Rest in Peace”
A solemn promise. Something you yearn for. Run toward. A goal. An aspiration.
Something you won’t lose.
Something you won’t break.
That’s what an oath is.
You can feel it pulling at your spine. Down your back. In the very edges of your mind, it’s there. Constantly. A heartbeat within your body, your mind, your soul.
An oath is not something meant to be broken.
I know that.
They know that.
This oath is not something I intend to ignore.
This oath is something I will keep.
Even if it means my life. Continue reading “Paladins, Oath Keepers”