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”
In a world teeming with superheroes, the term “villain” gets tossed around too much. Applied way too often.
And, normally, it gets applied where it isn’t applicable at all.
What makes a hero a better than a good Samaritan? Better than a good citizen? More than just someone doing the right thing?
The answer might surprise you if you’ve never thought about it.
Additionally, the answer mirrors the answer to the question:
What separates a villain from a criminal? Someone nefarious? A no-good person? Someone who’s rotten?
What separates them? Where do we draw the line?
What’s the difference?
If you’ve never thought about it before…
I’m sure the answer will surprise you. Continue reading “All For Cause”
It happens every time, without fail:
Right when I’m about to fall asleep.
That moment where I’m dancing with dreams, my mind slowly succumbing to the beauty of rest. To the warmth of it, the necessity. It’s right when my mind is starting to go blank, right when I’m about to slip away. Away from the waking world and all its problems. Forgetting all the things that are bothering me, all the tasks I need to accomplish, all the orders I need to fill.
Its then that it always happens.
I’m on the verge again. Darkness whispers sweet nothings into my ear, assuring me that it can give me rest. That I can relax—
And there’s a knock on the door.
Every time. Continue reading “A Useless Jump”
I am not here of my own accord.
Fate was set. Pulled into motion. Gears of time and space and virtue, all meshing together to tick down. To continue counting the seconds until the bell would toll. Until the hammer would strike.
I am not here of my own accord, I can promise you that.
I am here.
And I am no fool.
I must do what it is that I was destined to do. Regardless of how I feel, of what I want, I know what I must do, and I will do it.
Pave the way.
Continue reading “Thorny Fate”
When it started, it seemed like there was no end. No stopping it. No cure.
When it started, people were devastated. Lost. When the dead shuffled up to their door, into their houses, what could they do?
They started firing.
And I can’t blame them.
When they swarm, it’s hard not to shoot. Impossible to get away unscathed. Because, even though we know now that there’s a cure—a way out—it doesn’t change the fact that the unaffected are in danger. That we might become prey.
That we might just…
…lose our heads. Continue reading “Zombies Everywhere!”
The night was dark and the wind was howling and the world itself was still. Silent for once. As if it were leaning in, curious. Waiting.
I would not be beat.
Through the dark, I saw him coming with the wheel barrel. Pushing past the rocks in the hill, the bumps, the dead grass. Pushing past the graves and oaks that held hollow to these stones.
He pushed forward. Up the hill.
He was the key to all this. He didn’t know it yet, but he was. He was the one who would bring the victory. The cornerstone in my plan. The one who was going to cement my path. Take down my foes. He didn’t know it yet, but—
He was going to be my champion.
I will not be beat. Continue reading “To Make A Champion”
I knew a genius once. He was my mentor, actually. Taught me, first in high school. Then, once again, when I entered college. And then, again, when I went for my master’s degree. And my doctorate. And again, afterward.
When I became his assistant.
He taught me a lot. A whole awful lot. About tons of things. Theories and science and things you could see.
And things you couldn’t see.
The man I knew was a genius. An absolute genius. It wasn’t his mind that made him that way, or his IQ. No.
It was his determination. His willingness to explore. To find. Discover. He always saw himself as a pioneer. An explorer. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the turning seas. Of never reaching land again.
Because to him, it didn’t matter.
If he could find the unknown, delve into lands unseen…
If he got his answers, then it didn’t matter.
I’ve only just recently come to that conclusion. That understanding. The man I knew was a genius, yes.
But at what cost? Continue reading “When the Warlock Wakes”
Rest will come soon.
It’s the only thing that keeps me going. Makes me able to take the next step, or any step at all, for that matter.
The wind is chilly today. Biting from the back of its own throat. Gnawing at my sleeves, at my boots. Covering over my coat.
It burns my nose. Stings my eyes.
It just means that I’m still making it. That I’m not there yet.
I’m still alive. Continue reading “Churning”
Defiance, by nature, is an act of aggression. A determination to go away from the flow. To destroy the flow. To be so other, that people can’t help but see that there’s more than one way. Defiance can be an arrowhead, or it can be a shotgun blast. So pointed, or a desperate barrage that reaches whatever it can. Regardless of form, it’s strong, and steady. Always strong and steady. Without those qualities, your defiance is nothing. A tantrum. An act. Defiance can’t be so weak. It’s a mountain in the midst of a storm. A stance that stays strong, no matter what the cost.
No matter the cost.
Continue reading “All or Nothing”
I am the one who knocks. Who breaks the town gates down. Tears their security to pieces as I remind them that there is a curse with a claim on them. Remind them that they spilt blood. Regardless of how long ago it was, they spilt blood.
And they must pay.
Again and again and again.
Not until the debt is repaid.
There is no way to pay for the life of someone so precious.
They will pay until they understand what it is that they’ve taken. Until they understand.
What is a life worth to them?
Continue reading “Blood For Atonement”