Vaprous

Lightning thundered violently overhead as toxic winds blew through the dead trees of the courtyard. Broken glass littered the courtyard and crunched underfoot of the heavy boots of soldiers in full gear sweeping through it in a standard search pattern, they were searching for something…they were hunting for something. Broken buildings and the shattered bones piled high lay all among the debris that once made up Kaenenien society. They swept past all of it overturning every pile looking for their prize. A single squad led by Commander Kae-Zen found its way into a spacious room and found the bones of juveniles here in great piles. A visi

The passage of time exists The passage of time persists It lifts me to a world of new ages where there are so many new faces Yet I can't help but feeling like I am drowning The passage of time makes me feel like I am browning I wither and wind and wart; the passage of time distorts Soon I am nothing I was, and everything that I am is not who I want I am now one who hunts, for intangible and unimaginative things I want for love and life and light; to be immune to the passage of time This life is not mine, only a pantomime of all that I am not The passage of time makes the wheels of the clock tower wind alongside this act of mine, and with

The King does rest on his laurels, seldom do he rise if ever may be there be time; and the kingdom burns down around him, and seldom do he cry if ever there be night. The Queen rests in her bed lonesome she often finds; and the castle is under siege beneath her, and lonely she does cry. The people are raising their voices, no more shall the taxes will they pay; and the gates are coming down, as even the knights refuse to obey. There is no places in this kingdom for the scoundrel called the King, and nevermore a place for a false lady, like the fallen queen. The people are burning the castle, and all the kingsmen look away; no more do they pro

They drew their blades and prepared to meet the enemy head-on as they rushed down the hill towards. The first two of the men greeted them with their swords, which they matched with their own blades as a final volley of arrow fell short just steps from them but catching the third man’s sword hand. He fell to the floor clutching it in pain. They crashed into each other hard locking blows as each of the guard tried to make it past the two brigands defenses, but they found each of their strikes was matched by them, it was a fight to wear them down until they could finally find a chink in their defenses, but it would not be one that Tysaris

All of our lives are weaved together, in unnoticeable stretches of life, in how we eat, what we eat, where we go and when we go there, what we wear, and where what we wear comes. So many things connect all humans to each other, the air we breathe, to the colors we see, feelings we feel, to the pain we hurt, it is to say we are familiar with everyone, but we are distant to them as well.

They walked to a high hill just on the edge and scanned the horizon of their views, looking out on top of it to not see much but a sun slowly dwindling down here in the afternoon and the sounds of the village. Just as they were about to leave, a loud clatter of yelling and hurried footsteps had begun to creep up into their earshot, they rushed to the scene of racket to find a group of villagers chasing after a hooded man in black cloth rags; he ran passed them without a glance to the two guards as the mob of villagers drove after him with clubs. The flurry off villagers chased him as they yelled and screamed after calling out “murderer&

....went on. The pain of being unable to save anyone during that time was a ghost he preferred to forget was haunting him. He was one of the few elders who still remembered who his people really were. By standards of age among his people, he was older then even the other elders, the oldest in fact. He carried the burden of knowing his people for hundreds of generations. Watched as they slowly forgot how they were once gods in their own right. Tetheras stood up now and began walking toward his throne room. He passed through a corridor lined with dozens of banners with the crest of the Ashen court marking them. He walked towards the end of ha

The memories of Deshivian past deserve to be preserved in minds deep and infinite. In the time after Iona, where their dead all sleep, letting their past to be forgotten by each new generation. What is left now are fragments of memories of a time when they once possessed vast fleets of starships, when they once wielded the power to create life and shape worlds. Now they rested in self-imposed exile from the Torian, a monstrous enemy. One that would of meant their extinction without their exile to a place where the Torian would not search. Deshivians forgot their Torian foes, until they forgot there were Torians, or starships, or that the wor

I seek to be free, free of all that binds me. Be it of this world or the heart and mind and soul; I am not my own in this world, I am bound by my heart to the chain of heartfelt bleeding. I am not my own in this life, I am bound by my mind to the chain of mind deeply depraved. I am never my own, I am bound by my soul to the chain of a soul entwined in body. I can not be free. I enjoy too much those ties that bind me, for all the pain they give the chains of my mind and heart and soul give me life. Although I feel the heartfelt bleeding and the mind of mind deeply depraved slipping away, in this body where my soul is trapped among it. I do no

There in this country was the filthy farming village of Hyenle, where they believed they grew the sweetest potatoes in the kingdom. There burned a candle in a library where only the librarian ever visited inside, the building was hardly more than a relic of Okariea’s prosperity, when Hyenle was once a much more prosperous place. The librarian would often tell stories to the children of those days, to make sure they knew their heritage and history, but for him where he sat by the window all he could see was what was what was here in this place; the filth of dirt or gravel roads, piles of rubbish discarded in haphazard piles and the unbe