The Lament of the Depths

Where are their eyes,
blackened by ink?
Veiled is the ocean
In inches they think

Numb is the heart
Beaten for sound
Grey are the days
When only inches are found

The shovel lies there
The pick and the axe
No hand holds them now
All just relax

Let benelity rule
Riches cast to the sea
No light to linger on my words
Washed away eternity

Drums and Bass

The music was loud, the crowd cheered louder, the world was dark and bright and neon. The night was cool but the crowd made it humid, the wind was gentle but the music made it buzz. The band had come, they had rocked the town, and now they were saying good bye.

The bass player plucked a few notes in the song. The electric guitar picked it up with a gentle strum. Then as the drummer counted them off, they rocked once more. They played and swayed and jumped and jammed and smashed and screamed and cursed. They sang of chaos, anarchy, and the coming end of the world.

In the swaying crowd of humans and punks, stark faces raised in ecstasy, the lighters swayed as one whole creature, a swarm of fireflies caught in some strange dark sea. They screamed and worshiped these perfect strangers, and would sell their soul to be noticed. But the three players were that, just three players and all they ever did was play.

They played that night like never before, a screeching hiss of serpents at war. They didn’t see anything else, but they saw everything else. They didn’t hear anything else because they didn’t hear anything else. They were there and they were not. They were playing but they were also playing. They were in a stark and black Neverland, painted with streaks of ash and blood.

As they played they didn’t see him. They never saw him. He was always there and that’s why they couldn’t see him. He was the fourth wheel, the one last friend. The one who should have been playing as well. But he wasn’t. He didn’t. No one quite knew why.

He stood where he always stood, in the spot to the side where the gleam of the lights brushed across his face but never stopped on him for long. He stood where he always stood, in his black t-shirt and black skinny jeans, his long black hair hanging in his face.

He was hearing the song but he wasn’t at the same time. He was hearing his song as they played it all wrong. The wrong way which the crowds loved but still the wrong way. He had birthed the song, he had travailed long and hard to put his sorrow to words. He was the supreme architect of Neverland. But people preferred the ash and smoke and burning buildings of blood.

He walked through the desolate fields of embers and saw in their burning the last glimmers of life. The lives he had made, crafted, and loved. The words he had spent hours and hours to find. Gone and done and embers in the ash while the smoke rose heavenward on a staircase of wind.

But the songwriter knew what they did not know. He knew that the words carried power and life. He knew that they would no longer be safe, singing his songs now badly deformed. He smelled the smoke in the crowd of ash people and knew that there was something coming.

His song, his song, his precious song, wrought with fire of passion and life. Now was a number one money maker, breeding the very things that caused him so much pain. He was there, along, together with them. And his song was slipping through fingers of glass and sand. He gave it away, like a father gives a daughter, and now he regretted it with all his being.

The drummer hit the cymbals, and it brought his mind back. He saw the ash rising in the pit of the people. He knew what was coming, the long dread beast. The thing he fought and wrestled with every time he heard it. The song that was his and wasn’t and would never be. It was coming. It was coming. It was coming ever closer.

He smelled it before he saw it, the ash and the smoke, like walking into the house of a chain smoker. It grabbed his chest, and his lungs constricted, while he was torn by the urge to gag or breathe deeper. The smell of something dead and burned. And then he saw it arise.

Long grey wings that flecked and fluttered as ash flew from them into the sky. Long white body, impressive but sterile, with no beating heart or tears to cry. Its scaly feathers shimmered and shone as limelight flickered between its plates. The black feet were grasping, clawing, seeking, ready to tear or rip apart. Its beak wide open, glowed as a dull red coal. Its eyes were wet and grey, no life left there anymore. It was a dead thing clothed in life and decked with ashes of its former self.

And so this thing, this hideous thing, this horrible, terrible, unbearable thing, arose from the crowd and the songwriter’s own heart. It was silent and terrible as it swooped ever closer, closing the gap, its intent clearly seen. Ready, ready, ready to kill and tear those three on the stage, the vengeance of Neverland had come on at last.

But he knew he should, could let it fall, tearing and baring to the fans all. Let them see what lay beneath the façade of the three Peters. Let all go down in fire and ash even as they burned his song. But he knew he should, and could, but the question was really if he would. He looked at the thing and the three and himself, and thought of the purpose that was greater beyond all. The picture that seemed bigger because his eyes were so smaller. The picture that laughed at his best laid plans. The larger Neverland that was the father of his song. Should he, its mother, let it be destroyed?

The thing swooped low and then drew back, its claws and beak ready to attack. But the man in the black t, and black skinny jeans, extended his arms, and behind them large ebony wings. With a flap and a jump he was into the air, he flew and he flapped and he dove towards it. He had pulled out his drumstick and his pen.

Then as the thing neared him, its jaws opened wide, he thrust both into its heart as it screeched and cried. But no one saw him, no one heard. No one would praise him. No one even cared. He had saved the three, and the song and the band. He had kept the illusion alive in the crowd’s mind. He landed so softly, he walked on so slowly, his wings gone once more, a shadow again.

The band was finished, the crowd went wild, but the guitarist/singer seemed distracted as he came back stage. He called the group together and told them something strange. He could have sworn as he played, a black angel feather had fallen in front of him. And he has an idea, an idea for a song. A song of an ebony angel who was bound in chains of ash.

The song was a hit, they toured three times more. Both songs were immortal, and known by the world. And he sunk deeper into the shadows as his baby grew up and went into the world. Hand in hand with the song of the angel and the chains of ash that he heard every day for the rest of his life.

For whom the phone rings...

So this is what happens when I am forced to watch a Steven King movie. (FYI if you don't know who Steven King is you probably shouldn't be reading this story :P)
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For whom the phone rings...



Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

The neon green phone rang its hot pink charger as the young blonde walked in the door. She wiped her brow as she threw her headband down, and plucked the iPod earphones from her head, draining the last of the water in her water bottle before tossing it on the table too.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jenny, its Brent. I was wondering if you were gonna come to the party tonight?"

"Brent. I already told you! Not tonight! I have to study for my psych final. Maybe next weekend."

"Fine. But, hey, listen. Did you just get back from your run? What are you wearing?"

"Good night Brent!"

She dropped the phone back in its charger and walked over to the refrigerator of her small apartment. It was all neat and tidy, perfectly set up and organized. Jenny was a self diagnosed obsessive compulsive and a creature of habit at that. She grabbed the orange juice, placed between the mango and the pineapple juice (alphabetical order) and a glass from the cupboard, arranged from tallest to shortest.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

She rinsed the glass out and placed it in the dishwasher, then walked over and grabbed the ringing phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm calling for a Jenny M." said a low, soft male voice.

"This is her." Jenny said as she wiped a bit of juice from the kitchen table.

"I'm calling on behalf of your safety." said the man with the smooth voice.

"My safety? What do you mean?" Jenny asked confused.

"Did you lock your front door?" asked the man.

And then there was a dial tone.

Jenny was still holding the dead phone as she walked to her front door, which she had left wide open. She closed the door and turned the small latch to lock it. As the latch clicked into place, something thudded hard against the door. Jenny jumped and yelled with shock, dropping the phone. She was shaking as she picked the phone back up and walked towards the door.

This was one of the times she wished she had a peephole. Slowly, she waited a few seconds, holding her breath as she listened to the sound coming from outside. She reached for the door handle and slowly undid the latch. She placed her hand against the door and pushed it open carefully with a creaking groan. And she stepped outside of her apartment door, into the dim light of the porchlights.

But there was no one there. She looked around and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So she turned around and closed the door, not seeing the large indent on the wooden surface. Jenny latched the door again just to be on the safe side.

A few minutes later she was in the shower. As she washed the cares of the day away she began thinking of the caller again. She tried dismissing the call, tried reasoning with herself as she logically assessed the situation. She even tried psychoanalyzing the caller and herself and their strange relationship from a psychologist perspective. And as she was still thinking, she heard it again.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself as she picked up the receiver. It was not the man with the smooth voice. The callers voice sounded hoarse, almost parched, as he wheezed out his words between long, heavy breaths.

“You… didn’t… close… the water… all… the way…”

A dead dialtone.

Jenny was shaking as she walked back to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that she had closed the water all the way. But even before she reached the bathroom she could hear it. The sound that brought a sickening feeling to her stomach. The dribbling sound of water still barely coming out of the shower head.

She grabbed the phone and jumped into her walk in closet, closing the door and leaning against it as her heart pounded. She tried to think. Tried to reason it away. But even reason was aginst her. Someone was watching her. There were no windows in her bathroom. Which meant someone must have been in her apartment at that moment.

She pulled slacks and a t-shirt on as she tried to find a place to hide in her closet. Wiggling into a spot in the corner she quickly covered herself with clothing, her heart beating like a drum as she tried to still her breathing.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

She nearly dropped the phone that time. With quaking fingers she pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear. The voice that greeted her was the smooth voice from before.

“Did you cover yourself up all the way?”

“How do you know what I’m doing? What’s going on?!” she cried as tears began flowing down her cheeks.

“It’s complicated. What I can tell you is he’s close. He’s watching. He’s listening. He’s waiting. If you call the cops, it’ll be too late when they get there.”

She whimpered as another tear rolled down her cheek.

“For now, stay where you are, and don’t open the door, no matter what you hear.”

Jenny gave a sniff and nodded her head, then remembered she was on the phone and spoke shudderingly, “Alright.”

The phone went dead. Jenny sat in the oppressive silence of the dark closet for several minutes. She still had enough sense to turn the volume of the phone off. Now all it would do is light up its display when someone called. After a few minutes that dragged on like lifetimes, she heard it.

There were footsteps coming from outside. The wooden floorboards creaked and groaned as someone walked across them. The shadow could be seen under the door as the person walked past the door, and then, halting, turned towards it. Jenny’s heart stopped as the door handle rattled.

“Jenny, are you there?” It was Brent’s voice.

“Brent! Oh my god! Its you!” Jenny said, getting up.

The phone’s display lit up as a call came in.

“Don’t do it! Remember what I said! Don’t open the door no matter what!”

“Jenny? Are you in there?” Brent asked from outside the door.

“Jenny! He’s trying to trick you! Don’t answer! Hide! Stay away from the door!” came the smooth voice over the phone.

Jenny whispered into the phone, “How do I know I can trust you?”

The phone died. On the screen it said “battery power out”.

Jenny walked up to the door, placed her hand on the door handle, and tried to draw steel from it. Taking a deep breath she opened the door outward. No one was there. She walked towards the bedroom.

“Jenny!” A voice yelled behind her.

She screamed as she turned around, swing the phone and flinching away from the hands that grabbed her.

“Hahahah! You should have seen your face!” It was Brent. “That was priceless! Hahaha! Good one Toby!”

Next to Brent was the one he had called Toby. He was one of Brent’s friends from the basketball team, long and lank and holding a cell phone. When he spoke she recognized the smooth voice from before.

“Hello Jenny.” He intoned, then burst out laughing with Brent.

“You two idiots! You nearly scared me half to death! What’s wrong with you morons?!” she yelled as she punched both of them on the shoulder repeatidly.

“Come on Jen! Its just a joke.” said Brent laughing, “I mean, you’re the one who fell for it. Besides, you’re kinda cute when you’re angry like this.”

Jenny scowled as she said, “Brent, some things are funny and some are just plain wrong! That stunt with the bathroom was sick! I mean, how dare you two spy on me when I’m in the shower!”

“Hey! Don’t go getting all high and mighty. I mean, yeah, you’re right. Normally I would be the first one to spy on you in the shower, but I didn’t okay!” Brent said, getting flustered.

“What are you talking about Jenny?” Toby asked confused as they all heard a sound coming from the closet.

Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

Jenny turned pale as she heard the ringing phone. Brent went and got it while Toby walked to the kitchen. Jenny’s mind was spinning as she thought about what the two had said.

“Hey, there’s something wrong with the door.” Toby said as he jiggled the front door handle. “It won’t budge.”

Brent walked back to the three and answered the phone, putting it on speaker phone. The phone which was suppose to have been on silent. The phone which was suppose to be out of power. A voice crackled over the speaker. A voice Jenny recognized from before.

The low wheezing, the hard breaths, the gravelly tone.

“Hello Jenny. Or should I say Jenny, Brent, and Toby was it? Good, the more the merrier. Hehehe. Toby, put that cell phone down. Even if you called 9-1-1 by they time they find what’s left of you there won’t be much left to find anyway. Now, for some mood lighting.”

And then the power for the apartment went out.

Little Mountain Conqueror

Did you see the light?
As it broke through the dawn?
Did you hear the breath?
As a new life was born?

The heralding cries
Of love's purest joy
He's finally here
The sweet baby boy

Sleep now, little one
With no worry and no care
God's got big plans for you
And He'll guide you there.

But that day is still far off,
When the mountains will fall
So sleep little conqueror
Welcome, from us all.

The Tragedy of Brandur and Perlise

In honor of valentines day I finished my epic poem about the tragic love of Brandur and Perlise. Side note: Brandur is pronounced BRAN-dir, and Perlise is pronounced Per-LEES. Also, yes this happens about 7 or 8 generations before my main story.

The Tragedy of
Brandur and Perlise


Canto I: The Beginning

When earth was young and heavens bright
Great light and dark strove in fierce might
Men and elves and sorcerers too
Rallied with purpose: darkness to undo
The world divided waged war on itself
And slowly corrupted earth’s glorious wealth
Till finally, with blood, the gateway was sealed
And the land once more began to heal
But darkness and light took different forms
The light as men and the night, wyrms
Fell beast that lurked in places dark
Leaving evil and destruction as their mark
But Carolman, the sorcerer’s home
Rose to fight the wyrms, alone
And soon was thought, with great fame,
They had vanquished all in light’s name
And so they grew and prospered well
And the world loved their tales to tell
But in this time of bliss and art
Arose a tale made by the heart
A tale of tears and greatest grief
When things forgotten came as a thief
A tale of desire and great passion
Love given freely without ration
A tale of evil and dark deeds
Men driven by great evil’s needs
A tale of many adventures grand
Rough sailors sailing to distant lands
A tale of love so true yet sublime
It all began “Once upon a time…


Canto II: Perlise the Perilous

In Carolman lived a sorcerer old
Who had a daughter fierce and bold
She spoke with authority and great power
And even the strong before her did cower
In tower high wrought of white ivory
Surrounded by silks and golden finery
She sat on her couch of vixen firs
Watching the stars whose keep were hers
Her eyes were violet like breaking dawn
Her hair was white, from moonlight drawn
Her teeth were straight, her fingers long
In her shape was found nothing wrong
With beauty she tempered wisdom deep
Reading tomes whilst others did sleep
Her mind was quick, her wit was sharp
Her words as thunder or soft as a harp
And from her forefathers she did receive
A gift that one could scarce believe
Foresight of a peculiar kind
The future wound its way in her mind
And so looking forth she did behold
That from her womb might greatness unfold
But mark she well whom she chose as mate
For they would steer her perilous fate
So men and sorcerers like the rest
All came unto her and were put to the test
But none found favor, heartbroken were all
And still she waited for love to answer her call
Perlise the Fair, whose beautiful eyes
Shamed the bright stars in the skies


Canto III: The Beast in the Shadow

Far across the deep blue sea
Beneath the shade of the evergreen trees
In a forest ancient, evil and dark
Something had left its shadow mark
A wyrm of old, from the wicked days
Who had even turned men unto it ways
They worshiped the beast in its cave
Sacrificing children, the life it craved
And so it grew stronger each dark night
Crafting stranger darkness with its might
It twisted the mind of one man to its will
Its high priest and herald, the victims to kill
And began to form in the wicked man’s mind
A plan and desire to journey and find
A maiden strong that it could transform
A suitable mate so more wyrms could be born
The wicked man left and crossed the sea
A cloud of darkness in the lands of the free
He sought for days and nights and hours
Till came he to Perlise’s tower
And ascending the mighty ivory keep
He found her on her bed asleep
And beholding her knew at once it was she
The one to share his master’s destiny
But she awoke from troubled dreams
And seeing the man gave yells and screams
Her father’s guards were awoken from slumber
And saw the tower alit with thunder
But once, to her chamber they did come
They found Perlise the Perilous was gone


Canto IV: The King’s Commission

Wilts a great feast was held in his halls,
The sorcerer, Perlise’s father, heard her calls
And ere the guards entered the great hall
He fell to the ground, weeping before all
“What ails you so, O son of the light?
What makes your face turn pale with fright?”
But the words had not yet flown from their tongues
Then the guards entered the chamber of great ones
The tale was told, the darkness inferred
All was silent, but the Great King was heard,
“Now from among us, swiftly go, one must
To save the maiden, and bring the beast to dust.”
And many brave men and sorcerers great
Were ready to arms, casting all unto fate
In silence the assembly stood at the table
Till came forth a young man with hair as sable
“This task is small for such great a host
And much power here, rightly we boast.
And verily so the beast shall also know
And so catching her up, away he shall go.”
Then all were amazed at the young duke’s perception
For he had seen through a part of the beast’s deception
And seeing the youth’s mind as sharp as his sword
Stepped forward the King, his ruler and lord,
“Now, young duke, wise words you have spoken,
And truly the beasts’ plan you have broken.
For he does not expect a single man
Would dare to come into his land
Therefore you go forth now and save her,
Your quest before you, young duke Brandur.”


Canto V: The Ballad of Brandur

Brandur followed the trail to the dark cave
And before it he saw the altar to the knave
But no moment for reflection on the ghastly rites
There stirred in the cavern a roar and strange lights
A long serpentine head extended outside
Its eyes were black like some thing long died
He stepped forth, with his brave sword ready
But then spoke the beast in voice low and steady
“Be gone, thou man, thy kind shall fail,
Think not thyself safe, boy, with thy sword and thy mail.”
But Brandur charged with his sword strong and gleaming
The vile fiend’s mouth opened with smoking and steaming
From its jaws came forth a column of fire
But Brandur merely raised his shield up higher.
But before the duke could move to strike true
A clawed hand descended and clove his shield in two
And then the creature with its talons of steel
Grabbed the duke and would have made of him a meal
But as the large toothy mouth stood ready, agape
The duke pulled forth his dagger from beneath his torn cape
And struck true and hard at the mighty beast’s face
And as the blade entered its eye, so died its race
For with the one blow, the villain was undone
And changed into nothing but smoke in the sun
The brave duke staggered forth, his wounds grave
But he had to endure for he had her still to save
He found Perlise bound and set her free
Then she tended his wounds, as slept did he
Then by sea they returned with greatest speed
While born in their hearts was true love’s seed


Canto VI: In the Glade of Selene

When returned Brandur and Perlise
There were many a celebration and feast
And all would hear the daring tale
Of how the light once more prevailed
But in the morning’s early hour
The two met in a secret bower
For in the woods of sweet dreams
They found the hidden Glade of Selene
And there in dawn’s violet light
The world was soft, not dark or bright
As moon, sun, and stars mixed above
The two whispered softly to each other of love
Their eyes met and their hearts beat as one
In time with the sky, and the earth and the sun
And they pledged their love for eternity
Bound their fates with all certainty
Perlise had found the one she had sought
Brandur, a treasure for whom he had fought
He was the night and she was the moon
And daybreak came always too soon
And so they met on in the secret glade
Where laughter and love would never fade
The mornings were short they had together
Yet their memories were locked in their hearts forever
Wed in secret in the mixing of the light
Their love and future then seemed so bright
But this time of bliss was not to last
For one day her servant followed them in the grass
There saw them in the Glade of Selene
And reported to her father what he had seen.


Canto VII: When The Walls Were Raised

The aged father of Perlise the Fair,
An olden sorcerer with greying hair
He called a council of the many wise
To hear what ways they would advise
But ere they spoke of the two lovers
They first brought curses upon others.
They called for their mantles and staves
And spoke their words like roaring waves.
“Men of Tara who hid in the shade
Be thee and thine children now remade
For hiding the wyrm in the green trees
Be forever more bound unto these.
But only to honor the great King
Who sent Brandur to make right everything
In marriage to his sons alone
May thine daughters leave their arboreal home!
But thou, O man who took Perlise
Thou shall find no sweet release
Be thou bound unto they corpse-lord
Till madness take thee forever more.”
Then called they to the ever blue deep
“Rise now a wall, our lands to keep.
Let no more man or beast enter here,
Let all be shut out, never again draw near!”
Then rose up the glorious white wall
Fierce and magical but worst of all
Perlise and Brandur were now separated
For the elders saw together they were ill fated
She was locked in her white tower
While he was cast out in that same hour.


Canto VIII : The Shard of the Shadow

Brandur the Heartbroken dwelt by the wall
And would no more answer the Great King’s call
But Perlise appeared in his troubled sleep
And told him a secret power kept deep
And with this power in his hands
He could gain access to the locked lands.
Brandur sent word to his faithful friend
Einri the Navigator who sailed to worlds end
And soon to the land of Teaul they came
Brandur alone set out with one aim
And in the forest he found the Sedna way
In days when a friendlier people were they
They welcomed him in, and showed him their home
The secret glades where they dwelt alone
For the caribou people were once Elvenkind
Charged and bound to make sure no man would find
The ancient crystal wrought by the old elves
When deep into darkness they had delved
And Brandur knew this was what he did seek
For in the dark crystal remained power weak
But even at the crystal’s faint glow
The mighty walls of Carolman would be brought low
So in night’s shade he broke of a piece
And fled that place as shadow was released
The vines of darkness burned his hands
But he did not stop running till he left the shore’s sands
And as he sailed away on the ship so bright
He felt his mind slip further into the night
For the crystal began burning away at his soul
Only recalling Perlise’s light keeping him whole


Canto IX: The Breaking of the Walls

Then came Brandur wreathed in shade
And the seas before him were even unmade
And he reached out and touched the white wall
And it cracked and then began to fall
The void swallowed all that towards him fell
And soon there rung the warning bell
And all the sorcerers gathered in all their might
To stand against him with all their light
But Brandur covered in the darkened smoke
Tears flowed as in hoarse voice he spoke,
“Where is Perlise? Where is she kept?
For long have I longed for her face as I slept”
And thinking to deter him they all lied
“As soon as you left in great sorrow she died.”
But overcome with grief to the crystal he gave in
His body turned black and took the form of a raven
Then flew he over the gathered mighty host
Who did in their scheming and lying boast
His tears fell like a foul rain of oil
And burned man and beast and plant and soil
His anguish scream of loss on the air
Echoed around, traveled everywhere
Perlise heard it, and thought him in pain
And found a great light did in her remain
She flew from her tower and came to the wall
And there she cried when beheld she all
For Brandur lay there broken on the rubble
She came to him and removed the source of the trouble
And with the crystal pried from his fingers
His soul returned for a few moments to linger


Canto X: The Fall of Brandur

Perlise wept as she cradled his head
For she knew in her heart that soon he’d be dead
The darkness had taken a part of his heart
And torn his soul completely apart
But still she held on with all her might
And shone brighter still with a pure light
The breath remained still in his chest
And he still remained, did not go to rest
For he saw the shard and knew its mind
So when he saw it quiver he pushed her aside
The dark shard found him its target instead
He had saved her once more and he then said,
“Good bye, my love, my light, my wife.
I gladly give, for you, my life.”
Then a roar fell from the skies above
And a creature grabbed Perlise’s love
The corps of the wyrm bound to the madman.
Was drawn by the shard from across the land
But even as he grabbed Brandur’s still form
Perlise’s light burned him and so fell the wyrm
The beast-man perished within the great waves
They beat him against the rocks for days
Brandur and the shard came into the hall,
Of the Seakings so mighty and tall
The shard was thrown back onto the shore
For they knew its evil would make the depths war
But Brandur’s body was kept in the deep
And there for three years he did sleep
While sweet ocean waters washed away the shade
Until he was once again, a man made.


Canto XI: The Fall of Perlise

Perlise the Widow lived for three years
And saw the wall rebuilt amidst more fears
Her twins were born that same fall
And sent to live in their father’s great hall
They had the dark hair of Brandur their father
But white skin and violet eyes of their mother
They grew up there away from her sorrow
For she knew not if she would arise in the morrow
When three years had passed to the very day
She found herself atop the walls some way
And sang her lament for all to hear
Of love, and light, and shadow and fear,
“My water is parched, my food is dust
The sun grows cold, the flowers to rust
Since the day my love was taken from me
By cruel fate and its uncertainty.
In our arrogant pride we had thought
That love could be steered, bribed, or bought
But, lo, the price that foresight does bring
For I have lost him, and so lost everything!
My children shall carry the weight all their lives
And their children too shall have sorrowful eyes
Yes, I have foreseen that this cruel fate
Shall be a shadow of sorrow and hate
Until my Brandur comes back once more
And turns back even fates strong door.”
Then finished was she, she stood on the wall
At the high tower where it was so tall.
And threw herself from the ivory seat
Taken by the sea, her Brandur to meet.


Canto XII: The Reunion

Many years later, the sorcerers wise
Hearing the full tale only then realized
And repented when heard the part they had played
Wishing deeply they had but let Brandur stay
Still knowing the past was gone and done
Instead they gathered everyone
And called unto the Seakings of the deep
In whose halls the two lovers did sleep
The Seakings rose with a great host
For in their lands they loved the two the most
And would not let the Sorcerer’s come
And take the two, or even just one
For the tale of the two was well known
And the seas were called their final home
So then the sorcerers, to honor their love
Wished to do something worthy enough
And so they met with the High Seaking
Who hearing their plan, approved of everything
The sorcerers with their staves shining bright
Began weaving magic with all their might
The light wrapped round the sleeping forms
Scales upon their bodies, heads crowned with horns
Mighty wings which with the rainbow did shine
Bodies stretched far, into straight lines
Arms now long, with golden webbed claws
Silver sharp teeth lining their jaws
They were remade into the dragons of the sea
Who would live now together for all eternity
Guarding the seas by the great white wall
And so their love continued forever more.


Canto XIII: An Ending

This tale of love, truest and strong
Tells of many rights and wrongs
But more so still it tells the tale
Of two lovers whose love would never fail
Perlise the Moon and Brandur the Night
Who loved each other with all their might

A Dozen Roses

A rose for your mirror
You’re beautiful, don’t forget
A rose for you doorstep
I’m with you every step
A rose on your steering wheel
To carry through your day
A rose in your textbook
Makes problems go away
A rose on your lunch tray
Just to keep you guessing
A rose on our park bench
Sure, I’m obsessing
A rose with your coffee
Take a second and calm down
A rose in your pocket
To make a smile from a frown
A rose from your best friend
She’s in on it too
A rose in a letter
And a poem just for you
A rose hand delivered
I’ll stand under the porch light
A rose on your pillow
Dream of me tonight

NEW Chapter 5

The peace of the rolling green hills and wide meandering paths of Alexandria was disturbed by a long, loud wail. It increased in volume and pitch, echoing through the wide fields and across the flowery farms scaring chickens and geese. Around a turn in the hilly road, a band of soldiers on chestnut horses came trotting wearily. Some were holding their hands over their helmeted ears, others stuffing grass and cloth in their helmets, all trying desperately to stop the noise.

The source of the wailing and crying was a small girl, sitting in the seat of the soldier directly behind the Captain. Her curly blonde hair was missing a bow, and her eyes and nose were red and swollen from all the crying as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Whaaaaaaaa! You killed Silver! You killed my puppy!” the little girl cried as more and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Vhill you be quiet!!!” yelled the Captain, turning his horse around.

The large, barrel chested man, with the same tan skin and deep brown hair as the rest of his soldiers was probably twice their size, muscles and veins bulging from beneath his silver armor. At his side he carried a large, ornate sword, with vines and flowers in the silver handle.

The soldier who was carrying the girl on his horse, a dull and unintelligent fellow named Burt, began speaking to the small girl, whose lips were quivering, readying another explosion of sorrow. “Now dere, vhat the Captain meant is, see dere, your doggy’s tail is tvitching. Ve didn’t go and hurt her. She is only sleeping.”

This seemed to appease the little girl, who wiped a sleeve across her face and gave a loud sniff before smiling and reaching over to pet the dog. When she was sure her dog was alright she seemed to recover remarkably fast from her lamentful state. But just as the Captain turned and began riding away, the peace was broken again.

“Captain, why did you take me? Where are we? Why are there so many flowers? Do you like flowers? I love flowers! My granny showed me how to make flower crowns. She always called me her little daisy. She tried calling me other flower names but I didn’t like them. Oh! We should stop and then I can make flower crowns for everyone! Oh please! Please! Please! Pleeeeeeaaaaaassssse!!!!”

The Captain gave a low growl as he tried to take a calming breath. It was going to be a very long ride back to the castle.

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Nicholas stood on the top of the last small hillock before the castle. The faded red cart was stopped at its base while Aconite was gathering flowers. Ivan had curled up on the seat of the cart, sleep taking him even before his eyes were closed all the way. That meant Nicholas was left to make the plan.

He knew what Ivan wanted to do. Use Aconite to get into the castle. They would sneak in, pretending to be her helpers. But whenever Nicholas thought about doing it, he got a sick feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t fear. It was more like his conscience was telling him no, that he would have to lie to get inside, and that it was a very bad idea.

Nicholas stood on the hill looking towards the castle as he continued wrestling with the sickening feeling of dread that was engulfing his mind. He didn’t notice the old woman walking up behind him. She placed a bony hand on Nicholas’ shoulder, and he felt a cold chill go down his spine.

“Now then lad. No need to fret so much ‘bout what’s ta come. All things will work them selves out in the end, mark me words.”

“I don’t think I will be able to go with you two. Something feels… wrong. It’s hard to explain. Why don’t we just go up to the castle guard and explain the situation?”

“Well, I already explained that. The wicked Queen would have yer head on a platter afore ye had even said anything. She’s gone wild in the mind. Some things are better not to leave up to fate, lad.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with fate. Who knows, maybe the Queen’s madness can play in my favor. It’s a risky chance, but I’m gonna take it.”

“Foolish boy. You would cripple your own friends so? They need your help, not the extra sorrow of your death or more work in saving you! Don’t be so selfish!” the old woman said severely.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do what I think is right. Sahrina and Ivan will just have to understand.” Nicholas said, before turning and walking down towards the cart.

Aconite stood listening as Nicholas awoke Ivan and told the other boy his plan. There was arguing, with Ivan continually raising his voice. The words ‘illogical’ and ‘stupid’ echoed back up towards the hill. Eventually, Nicholas simply gave up trying to explain himself, wished Ivan luck, and walked towards the castle. Aconite followed him with her milky gaze. She was blind, but she was not. She knew what he has sensed. What she could not understand was how he had sensed it. Strange powers were at work in the land of Alexandria.

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Sahrina walked though the darkness, feeling the hair-like roots matting against her face. The passage had not been used in many years. After walking for several hours she had come to a solid wooden door. The door led up more stairs and then into a small chamber. As she stepped from the tunnel’s darkness into another cold, dark room she tripped over something. A rusty pair of manacles. She was in a dungeon.

Sahrina walked slowly, softly, as she made her way across the straw strewn chamber. A foul, musky odor hung in the air, the smell of a room that hadn’t been used in centuries. She pushed the creaking rusted doors open and walked into the main guard room. It was large, with torches all around, but what made it stand out was a large pit in the center, covered in a grate, with the hiss of serpents coming from within.

“Hmmm. Dark secrets lurk in the locked places of Alexandria. Is this their kinds’ greatest gift?” she hissed under her breath.

From ahead of her, a shuffling gate could be heard as a guard was walking towards the main door to inspect the cells of the dungeon. She crept along the side of the wall and flattened herself against the rough stone, timing her breathing perfectly, to match the shadows of the flickering torch light. Then the door opened and a soldier walked in.

In the few seconds he had time to register what was going on, he saw a strange shadow on the wall flicker and then seem to leap forward. The shadow hit the ground before him with its hands, and brought its legs over in a flip, driving both booted feet hard into his head.

“Don’t over do it Sahrina!” she scolded herself, recalling her old master’s words, “Too much force will have consequences not only on your opponent but on yourself!”

As she began walking towards the guard she felt the throbbing pain begin to increase again with every footfall, proving she had overdone it. She quickly pulled the guard’s armor off and strapped it on herself. Then she tied him up and limped out of the chamber and up the stairs beyond the door.

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The faded red cart pulled by the invisible nothing rolled to a stop before the large, red gates. Aconite sat alone on the cart surrounded by her many pigeons and doves. Her faded red shawl was wrapped around her bony figure, her white burlap robe fluttering its frayed edges in the wind that also caught her long wiry white hair. Two white, sightless eyes looked up towards the gate.

“Well now, were ye reckonin’ on openin’ the gate for me, me sonny?” she called up in her grandmotherly voice.

“Goodvhife Aconite, at lahst you haf returned. The kastle trees haf a strange sort of mold on de leafs and Brovoch de Fencing Master has broken his collar bone. It hahs been set but it vhil be much better vhen you tek a look at it.”

“Well then, ye’d better let me be getting’ in there. Just a wee moment. I well be needin’ one o’ my helpers. Now, let’s see. Ivan, come here.” she spoke to the doves as one fluttered over next to her in the seat.

The next moment there was a large puff of white smoke and when it cleared there was a small man next to her. He was dressed in bright red boots, puffy white pants, with a large white parka falling from around his neck all the way to his waist. On his head was a conical red hat with a wide brim that reached a hand’s length out from his head. And on his face was a white chalky bird mask with a long white beak.

The gates opened and the two rode in. The castle walls were so thick that the gateway was actually a tunnel leading in towards the castle grounds. The inside of the castle was completely unlike the rest of the land. It was a large central keep, surrounded by many fruit trees planted close together, an orchard literally fit for a king. No where else has Ivan seen trees in Alexandria, not since the Forest they had come out of.

Aconite directed the cart through towering trees on a path running through the small forest. They arrived at a large ornate door, carved with many stern looking women’s faces. The door opened and several people came out, all bustling and laughing as they talked excitedly with Aconite. She made a motion as she stepped towards them and Ivan nodded and took the reigns, steering the nothing pulling the cart towards the stables. That was, if he could find the stables.

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The western swamps of Alexandria bubbled and hissed as fumes and vapors struggled to escape from the sucking mud. A small wooden boat, black and gleaming like moonlight slid slowly over the misty top of the swamp, not touching the mud or sucking quicksand. On the boat were two figures, one dressed in a stained, filthy brown suit with a deck of black cards in his hands. The other was a young girl of fourteen with hair like fire and eyes that were a deep green. She wore a simple burlap sack, tied around her waist with a rope.

“So, I think we’re almost at the end of the fog bank.” the fat man said, licking his dry lips. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”

“Fine.” the girl said coolly.

“Listen you! You are my slave until I hand you over to my superior in Alexandria! Until then you’ll respect me! I am your master! I own you! I-eigh! Neigh!” As Stultius had been yelling his ears had slowly been changing into horse ears and his arms and legs began sprouting fir.

In panic, he jumped up, waving both hands over his head, which caused the boat they were in to flicker twice and disappear. They fell into the festering mud with two sickening plops. As man and slave girl wiggled out of the mud onto the patch of dry land, one of the black cards came flying back to the man and buried it somewhere in his deck.

As he coughed and hacked he slowly changed back into a man again, “You! You did this! Cough! Cough! I’ll teach you a thing or two!” He said wiping mud from his greasy face and raising a willow switch he had made earlier, the frightened girl backed against a pile of logs with no escape.

><><><><><><><><><

Ivan walked slowly and deliberately through the sunny hallways and chambers. Most of the castle’s west facing windows were splashing mid afternoon sunshine into the solid stone castle, filling it with light and warmth. Ivan scratched his face beneath the chalky mask as he continued searching, looking for any trace of Bella or the dungeons.

><><><><><><><><><

Sahrina climbed the stairs up from the inner castle keep, where the rooms had no windows and were lit with yellow glowing torches. She moved from chamber to chamber, searching for a sign of Bella, Nicholas, or Ivan. Even though it had only been a few days since they had met, she knew there was something about the two boys that drew her. She couldn’t just leave them here. They would need rescuing as much as Bella did in this strange land.

Her thoughts were interrupted as another soldier passed her, then turned and called, “Hey, you’re going the wrong way! Mess hall is this way!”

She turned slowly, forced a smile and said, “Thanks, I just need to go find my sword. I think I left it on the wall.”

“It can wait. Come on, if you don’t come soon there won’t be any left!” he smiled as he beckoned to her, “By the way. I don’t think we’ve met before. But with so many new recruits it’s been hard keeping track of people.”

Sahrina smiled and said, “My name is Holly. I’m from… north.”

“Hahaha. Well that explains the peculiar name. I’m Grieger from the west marshes.”

Before she could object, Sahrina found herself being dragged along by Grieger to the mess hall. There, in the cloud of smoke and steam from the kitchen, throngs of soldiers were bustling and laughing as they moved about the long rectangular table. Sahrina found herself between Grieger and a large man with no hair and a scar running the length of face. She decided to simply eat and see if she could catch any conversation about the three she was looking for.

The late lunch or early dinner, was a modest affair, with goose and chicken eggs served with both aforementioned birds roasted, along with flower seed porridge and cooked flower stalks. It seemed to Sahrina that a lot of the ales and cordials being passed around also seemed to be based on some flower or another. While pleasant tasting, the food was different and left a perfume like scent on her breath that she did not enjoy at all.

><><><><><><><><><

The sun was setting in the orange and violet sky when the small group of soldiers finally arrived at the castle. Most were decked in various flower crowns, with wreathes of flowers swinging around the horses’ necks and garlands of rose and lilies running between them, giving the appearance for all the world of one large daisy chain trotting towards the castle gates.

The Captain had tried in vain to keep the girl moving but every new field they had come to had excited the small girl even more and every time they had to stop while she gathered flowers. The small pest was now asleep in a sling around his shoulders, surrounded by lilies and daisies and all manners of flower.

Making sure that none of his men saw him, he gently moved the makeshift blanket to cover her shoulder completely. He smiled. She has been a troublesome little thing, but in many ways she reminded him of his own daughter. He hid his smile once more and gave a scowl to his men as motioned for them to discard their floral crowns before they entered the castle.

><><><><><><><><><

As the castle doors swung shut behind the group of soldiers, Nicholas lay down on the hill and pulled his heavy black cloak around him tighter. He knew that it would keep the worst cold out. He had waited all day long, asking soldiers as they were coming in from the fields about Bella.

Most had reported that the Captain had been sent out on a special mission that morning. They had also all confirmed that he would not be back till late afternoon or evening. So Nicholas had waited. He had waited and he has seen the group of flower soldiers arrive. And he had seen the Captain and how he treated Bella.

At least Nicholas now knew she wasn’t in any immediate danger. He would go speak to the Captain tomorrow and hopefully figure something out. Or he would speak to the Queen. At the moment, Nicholas felt that sleep was the best action to take. As a warm peaceful breeze brushed across the perfumed land and caressed his face, his eyes closed.

><><><><><><><><><

The mess hall was so crowded that Sahrina decided to leave as soon as possible, the noise making it impossible to hear anything anyway. She just barely made it out before more soldiers arrived, looking extremely tired. But what made them peculiar was that some were wearing strange flower wreathes on their helmets. Obviously they had too much rose ale, and she preferred not to waist her time. She needed information to find Bella and she wasn’t going to find it there.

Sahrina left the mess hall and found her way to the wall. Climbing the stairway up to the wall, she could see the last rays of the sun gently caressing the sky. A warm breeze was picking up, swirling perfumed air all around her. She had never felt any particular way about flowers, but the constant floral aroma from the fields, the kitchen and now her own breathe was overwhelming.

Walking along the wall she gazed over the land. The castle must have been close to the center because she could see equal distances in all directions. To her north, the lands continued, the small hillocks growing smaller and smaller until they became an open plane, with the singular road that wound to the glittering sea.

On her left, where the western sun was sinking, she saw the fields give way to hillocks, and hillocks give way to a strange milky white mist. It almost seemed that just by looking at it she could smell the fetid aroma of the swamps and marshes that must lay there. That’s where Grieger had said he was from.

On her right, she could see the fields again give way to hillocks and then to large hills and far behind them the eastern mountains stood large and tall. It occurred to her that she had never seen mountains that tall. They rose so steeply that they almost looked like pillars holding the sky up.

And then she returned her gaze to the south, where she and her friends had come from that day. She saw the many fields and farms encircled by the red road, and beyond it… beyond it she saw the forest. Like a living wall of green, so thick, so immense and impenetrable that whatever lay beyond it now seemed only a dream, far away.

A movement on a nearby hillock caught her attention. A black shape, like a curled up animal of some sort had stirred. She gave it no second thought and continued scanning the land before returning to the soldiers’ quarters. Since she was using the disguise of a soldier she might as well take the full benefits, such as a warm bed. Sahrina fell quickly asleep to the sound of many snoring soldiers and the scent of flowers still filling her mind.

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The Captain has laid the sleeping bundle in the small satin bed, located in the royal cell. The solid gold and ivory walls were interspaced with precious gems and pearls that glimmered in the candle light. Then, when he had securely tucked her in, he slid out of the room and locked the door. His grimace returned as he faced the two guards before the door.

“Make sure that she stays in there and no one else goes in!” then as he turned to go he added, “Oh, and also, she may need a glass of vater, or a fresh candle in the middle of the night. Make sure to get it for her or I vhill hav your heads!”

Then he strutted away, making sure to pull his stomach in and his chest out. He marched up the stairs and further up towards the main castle keep. He crossed the castle courtyard lined with all its trees and entered the large, central keep.

Here there was no rough stone, only cool marble and soft velvet rugs lined with gold. No more harsh torches, only golden candelabras and lamps that illuminated rich paintings, soft silks, and marble statues of whitest hue. He walked past the main throne room, with its raised dais and single gold throne and proceeded up the wide stairway. There he walked along the polish ebony floor to the royal apartments.

He knocked once and stepped into the antechamber. The Queen’s nurse, dressed in rich brown robes studded with small pearls and with a dark brown, almost black, shawl around her shoulders was seated in the receiving chair. Standing next to her was another older woman, this one dressed in long white burlap robes, wearing a red shawl and with long white hair that seemed to blow in the breeze, even though there was no wind.

“Excuse me. I am here to see de Queen.”

“Kaptain. You hav missed her highness. As I vhas just explaining to my other guest, da Qveen is already asleep. Vhat do you hav to report?”

“Vhe apprehended de girl. She is in the royal cell right now.”

The nurse pursed her lips and nodded before turning to her guest, “Vhell, Goodvife Aconite, it seems you vere right. I shall speak to de Queen. Maybe she can be convinced to release de child.”

“I tink dat vould be a good idea.” the Captain said, but was cut off before he could continue.

“Very gud, Kaptain. You may return to your post. Tomorrow de Qveen vould like you and your men to check on de svamps. You vhill need plenty of rest.”

The Captain bowed stiffly and walked out, followed by the lady in white. The two walked silently down the hallway and back towards the main throne room. As they passed a painting of the royal family, the Captain turned to the old woman.

“So you are seeking Bella. Vhy?” asked the Captain.

“She is my granddaughter. She’s been missing and I have been looking for her for so long.” Aconite said smiling hopefully. “Could I possibly see her, just to make sure she’s safe?”

“You can trust me. She is safe.” The Captain spoke abruptly, “But if I can speak freely, de Qveen’s orders today seem very strange. Never before hav ve been sent to capture a little girl. I hav alvays followed de Queen’s orders vithout question… but this… if de Qveen will not release her… I shall help her get to you…”

“Many thanks Captain.” Aconite said bowing, “I couldn’t thank ye enough.”

“It vould be my pleasure.” The Captain smiled. “Oh, and is der any message you vould vant me to give to her?”

“Oh, aye, many thanks. Just tell my wee Buttercup that I’m coming for her and we’ll be home soon.” Aconite said appreciativly.

“I vhill do that.” The Captain said smiling as he stepped out the door. “A Gud Evening tvo you.”

“An’ te ye.” Aconite bowed as the Captain stepped out and closed the door.

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Ivan was completely lost, cold, tired, and hungry. He had walked through the old castle and could not find a single trace of the girls. It didn’t help that somewhere early along his journey he had entered a room with a strange wardrobe in it. The door of the room had locked from the outside and he was stuck. Then he had sat down and thought about where he was in the castle. His calculations meant that there was another room behind the wall with the wardrobe.

Pulling the ancient looking wardrobe down he had broken the back paneling and used it to wedge several stones loose and make a tunnel into the next room. As he was about to squees through the tunnel he stepped on a switch and the entire wall he had been working on for almost an hour swung open. From there it had been a series of secret chambers and passages and even with his north finding ability he had gotten completely lost.

So he found himself before the large mahogany doors. They were carved with a many figures and symbols and signs that he couldn’t unravel. When he looked at the center panels he thought he saw the owl and the raven depicted on each actually moving from the corner of his eye. Ivan’s candle he had found hours earlier was almost gone, so he pushed the door open, hoping there would be some form of light inside.

The room that greeted him was completely dark. He stumbled around until he found a fire place. There were ancient logs covered in cobwebs and dust sitting in the fireplace waiting to be used. He lowered his candle and even before the flame touched the wood, the large oak logs burst into flame, causing Ivan to fall backward in shock.

The light from the large stone fireplace lit the entire room. Ivan gasped as he saw rows and rows of books reaching so high into the darkness above that they appeared to go on forever. He found another candle and lit it from the fire, and began searching through the library, all thoughts of hunger and weariness forgotten.

As Ivan browsed through the world of books, tomes, and atlases, he began reassuring himself that he was helping Sahrina and Nicholas. He was looking for a map of the castle so he could find them. And while he was doing that, why shouldn’t he do some research on this strange place they were in? After all, in the end, that might prove the most help of all. Besides, he said to himself, the two of them had probably already found Bella.

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Many eyes slept that night, some in peace, some in worry, and some in weariness. In the swamps of Alexandria, one pair slept in pain, another in fear. Fear of what the night sleep might bring. But in the night there were two eyes which did not sleep.

“The moon is black. The time has come. Come my daughters. Come to me.” the whisper crept over the world.

Several dreams were interrupted as the whisper fell in their ears. But they did not wake up. Instead, in their dreams, they all saw the world change before them and fall away. All that remained was a single floating slab of dead rock, surrounded by torrents of smoky haze. To this meeting place they all were called and came.

First there arrived an oily smoke smudge that moved across the air and then took the shape of the mistress of nightmares in her black gossamer gowns. Next, out of the swirling darkness a bright and shining light arrived, a figure faintly within. After her, an armored figure, carrying a large iron mace and with a heavy chainmail cape dragging in the dust arrived. Then came one in a robe, off-black, that hung down in many folds, making her seem like a large walking pile of mud. And finally, the one in the silky red cape arrived. They were all there.

“Oleander.” came the voice that called them.

“Yes…” spoke the heavy voice behind the iron helmet.

“Yes, mother.” the first voice insisted.

“Yes… mother.” Oleander said seething behind her helmeted face.

“What happened little one?” asked the soft voice.

“I… I lost the key.” spoke Oleander hanging her head in shame.

“Ha! Not only lost the key, but drove her back into the forest. We could have picked her up easily if you hadn’t been so clumsy!” hissed the figure in black.

“I had other problems to take care off. At the time I did not know she was in the forest.” Oleander said, fingers clenching around the large mace.

“So your years of swearing off magic has taken its toll on your senses, old one.” purred the one in crimson.

“Shut your mouth! A Vestal dare not speak in high counsel matters! This is between me and the other Matrons!” boomed Oleander’s voice.

“Many apologies, O highly esteemed one.” said the crimson robed Vestal with a mock bow.

“Girls. Enough.” said the soft voice, “What is being done about the key?”

“I am moving my forces to the east.” answered the lady in black, “If the Order or the Volvasa try to interfere they will find themselves grossly outnumbered.”

“Do not worry about the Order of the Apothecary. For many years now I have been slowly wrapping my hands around them, corrupting the pure, breaking the strong. They will soon crumble into nothing but willing servants of out mother.” spoke the bright light with a smile.

“Where is the girl now?”

“She is before me, mother. I need only reach out and grasp her, and the key is mine.” spoke the one in the folded robe. “However, I have sensed guards about her. Not only human but others as well. Even as I speak now, I must guard my lips and my appearance for their presence is about me… and it is no ordinary light I sense but that… that of the old light.”

There was no sharp retort or quick answer from those gathered this time. Instead, there was a single dread that entered all those present. Finally the first voice spoke, softly and soothing as she directed her children.

“It seems our enemy has finally decided to make themselves known. Long has the light shone without revealing its source. But there are other things. Deeper things. Things that once made war with the old light and prevailed against it. Even now, one of these sleeps beneath the waters of the deep. The time is almost come to awaken him from his long slumber.”

The dread from before was replaced with excitement and expectancy as they all felt themselves tremor with anticipation. The day had finally come. Long had they lurked in the shadows but no more. The time had come for then to rise. None would be able to stand before the Circle of Witches.

The Game

The board was set, squares of darkness and light
The pieces were ready, ready for the fight
The players sat down, each focused and cold
Something hung in the balance, something untold

He moved his knight, ever faithful and dear,
She moved her pawns forward in uncertainty and fear.
The air was tense as more pieces moved ‘round
No words were spoken, no kindness found

She took the rook, his castle so strong,
He took her knight to repay the dread wrong
She smiled coyly as she looked on the table
She moved her queen, the vicious and sable

She wanted the king, her end goal was clear
And so needed his queen to disappear
He moved in his knight, another castle she took
But he saved his queen when he sacrificed the rook

Eyes locked in combat, the duel of the minds
As waves of pawns fell in their battle lines
She moved her bishop, he moved his too
She moved her rooks, as she planned what to do

He took her bishop, and then the other
He set his knight up, but she saw not its brother
The knight rode in as the last rook fell
Then his plan was ready, soon all would be well

Then moved to strike the iron vixen queen
But the knight was ready, waiting unseen
He grabbed her took her before the high king
Whose queen sat beside him, not knowing a thing

The traitorous queen was locked in a tower
And that would become her eternal bower
The game was finished and he had won
He packed up the pieces and then was gone

The Brink

I stood on the very edge. The cool soft world enveloping me in folds of misty white. All was endless, coiling white fingers reaching to pull me ever closer, ever nearer. As if I did not know, as if I had not seen the edge, the brink, the long plummet that would await my next footfall. I did not step. I had come to wait. To wait a little while longer.

The air stirred. Something disturbed the rolling mists. The wind had changed its direction. It was time. I waited as mists poured away from me like a running river, over the brink and into the white expanse before me. And then the sky itself was transformed.

The deep blue light of day that saturated the predawn hours was beginning to fade away. The sky grew brighter, the air crackled with excitement as the world began to awake. The sky, now shades of violet and livid pink, was still dusted with sparkling silver stars as the black silhouettes of the morning birds crossed back and forth.

A moment, a breath, a single blink of an eye, and the sun awoke above the world. The mists were burned with golden color as the heavens became a large spill of mixing colors and shades, a playground of rainbows and stars. The swirling mists, burning golden bright, grew fainter and fainter as the sun rose higher. The dew steamed off the grass, and the height of the mists dropped lower and lower, revealing the plummet that awaited.

The last of the morning was gone, the golden sun revealed what lay beneath the flowing mists of morning. It roared, churned, and beat its fists against the cliff I stood. The mighty turquoise ocean, waves crested in brilliant white foam, threw itself against the world as bright sunlight sparkled upon bright waters.

And there stood I. There upon the very brink of the world, where the great ocean reached out beyond the far horizon. Gulls called, the wind blew stronger still, and the great emotion began to arise. I wanted to fall to my knees in the soft, wet earth. But I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked away, the roar of the seas still behind me.

And then, I turned once more, gave a short run, and leapt from the brink of the world.

What I saw

I saw them all gather,
Travel from near and far
They came by means many,
Boat, bus, plane, or car.

I saw the look in their eyes,
Excitement tinged with joy,
The Spirit of Life was with them,
On woman, man, girl, and boy.

I saw what they came for,
Why they waited for hours on end.
They sacrificed much to be here,
Something waited round the bend

I saw my generation.
And those who came before,
With eager faces, grip worn Bibles,
As they raced down through the doors.

I saw them worship You,
Thousands of voices as one.
And though there were many divisions
All came to praise the Son.

I saw them turn the pages,
Notebooks, Bibles, and hearts.
As You spoke to them of commitment,
Human nature, and grace’s art.

I saw a sea of faces,
As the call was made for the broken.
So many. O God, there are so many,
Lives now awoken.

In them I saw a quick glimpse,
A fleeting, shiver of light,
Before tears filled my eyes,
I saw Your eternity that night

Secrets of the Skies

Night on wings of shadow flew
Pressing down dreams and dew
The stars, cool and silent bright
Could not move upon dark Night

Luna in her mansions fair,
Sat back combing silver hair
She rose not from her grave soon
There came no light from soft Moon

Winds blew from the far west,
The night was thick with sleep and rest.
And soon Night dark and glorious
Brought rest even unto proud Boreas

Night was Queen, she ruled in black
No stars would sing, no moon attack
On wings of raven she took flight
For she had come, utter Midnight

Aurora lay neath the far plain,
Soaked with dew and the night rain
She awoke to the call of the trumpeter swan
Then sat she up, arose fair Dawn.

Solara fair with locks of gold light,
Stood and pushed the blanket of night
And as she did from her finger did come
The beating light of morning Sun

Iris lent her wings to the morning
The stars hid in the day’s forming.
And Nightshadow drew back in horror
The sun had come, shining Aurora.

Watchers in the Dark

Funny how reading Tolkien, a single phrase can catch you and give you inspiration. :D

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They watch, watch with gleaming eyes,
The stars, the moon, the things inside
They peer, they grope, they tear and bite
They seek, O how they seek, with all their might

They thirst for flesh, the sweetest meat
The reddest, plumpest, warmest heat,
That hidden deep within red heart
They ply and bend to reach that part

The place, the cave, the hidden chest
Where secrets kept are held the best
For there in secret, locked doors
Is what they so dearly yearn for.

So they beg, and plead, and beat their bones
On night and day, no moments alone
They hound, they chase, ever on they seek
They hunger and thirst to devour the meek

Their hands are red, shades of crimson and dark
Their faces are white, to hide black art
Their feet are bent, and they cannot walk straight
But their wings are worse, for they soar on hate

These foul harpies, ever watch they with care
To see a wrong footfall, or a stumble anywhere
Their talons quiver, each step laced expectation
Their voices screech louder as they growl with vexation

Scatter fiends, no manflesh shall you devour
For I am not so desperate as I seem in this hour
Rise, again, O glorious sun, once more arise!
That I too may stand up, even in their wretched eyes.

What the Whispers Said

Alrighty... so here is one of those times were I started a short story with NO IDEA where it was going. And then, it took an unexpected turn, and ended up in the most bizaar place ever!!! So, feel free to comment and write a better ending, or at least better idea of how it could have ended.

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What the Whispers Said

It began in midnight’s dark. I guess I should say something ominous or dramatic such as that. But really, it was just another night. An ordinary night. The wind didn’t howl, the rain didn’t beat, the sky was not torn by lightning or thunder. No, meteorologically, all was still, a soft, dulling fog laying gently over the entire town and probably over the towns around us too.

But even though it was an ordinary night, I guess you could say it was extraordinary. It was, after all, the night it began. It was late, too late, and I stumbled wearily to my cold bed, falling on the lumpy pillow and pulling the rumpled sheets over me. I lay there in the still, softness of the night, my weariness leaking out of my soul and into the mattress.

As I lay there, I was faintly, ever so faintly, aware of the sounds of the night. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The distant sloshing of the dishwasher in the far off kitchen. The sound of the house’s timbers creaking ever so softly as age sagged upon them. From the street the sound of a car passing on the road was barely even registered in my brain. The sounds of the night in the suburbs of the city were soothing, a blanket of white noise to comfort the strained and wearied mind. And then I heard it.

It was like a creak. A creak were there wasn’t suppose to be one. A creak too loud to be the house’s timber for at least another decade or so. The creak was an out of place creak. As if someone’s foot had fallen suddenly outside my door. At first I was sure that was the case. But who? I got up immediately and walked to the door, but found that it, and the hallway and the room beyond, were all empty. In fact, I was the only being awake in the house.

I went back to bed, and that was that. Until the next night came. This time, the sound was not a creak, but a rustle. As if leaves were in my room, being blown by unseen wing across unseen pavement on an unseen fall day. It was winter. There were no dry leaves left to scammer anywhere. Especially not in my room in the middle of the night.

I sat, staring at the ceiling, breath short as I listened trying in vain to reason away the rustling leaves. Finally, the leaves faded and the white noise again took over. And so I slept. But even then, my dreams were haunted by the creaking and the rustling and a strange whispering voice, barely touching on the edges of my mind.

The next day went well, and the following week’s evenings were all uneventful and nothing else happened. It seems as if it was all something I could just file away in the back regions of my mind, left to be forgotten with a host of other strange occurrences and coincidences. But it was not meant to be. Because the next night, everything I knew changed.

I lay in bed, my heavy lids sinking lower and lower once more. But even as my eyes began closing I heard it again. The creak was loud this time, as if a tree branch outside was readying itself to fall into my room. Even though there were no large tree’s anywhere near the house. And so I simply lay there and waited and listened. And as I listened, the rustling also came and in the rustling of the leaves, a hollow voice, as if someone was gently whispering.

“Another one, dead.” said the rustling voice.

“At this rate, we will be forced to do something drastic and soon.”

“Whose there?” I asked fearfully towards the darkness above me.

“Do you ever get a feeling that the humans speak at just the right moment, making it seem as if they could hear us?”

“Don’t give it another thought! They can’t hear us. There hasn’t been one of their kind in many centuries that could hear us.”

“Um… actually I can. Whose there?” I asked apprehensively my entire body beginning to shake with fear.

Both gasped and they fell to silent whispering for a few moments as I simply lay there, quivering and trying to reason with myself. I was sure that I had gone crazy, off the deep end for sure. I was hearing voices, in an empty room, in the middle of the night. And they were deliberating whether they should continue speaking with me. Obviously something was not right.

“Human, if you can hear us, stand up and walk out of your house.” said the creaking voice.

“Hurry! Hurry! You must if you can hear us! Before someone else speaks!” spoke the rustle with urgency.

So slipping into my robe and hurriedly sticking my feet into slippers, I scampered out the front door and tripped over the stairs, falling with a hard smack into the grass. As I lay there, I heard the voices this time, louder and with much more force. There also sounded like more voices were with them this time, all speaking at once.

“Whose there? What do you want?!” I remember calling as I stood up.

“He can hear us? He can hear us?” The voices all called one after another, the cacophony growing louder and louder as I threw my hands over my ears, spinning a round and round.

“What’s going on?” I faintly remember the words from beyond the noise.

But that was all. I remember, thought it’s like a dream, so I it might not even be true. But I remember being held down. I remember voices, and yelling, and then flashing lights. I remember someone talking to me. Someone telling me I could let go of my ears. But I couldn’t because of the voices. They even made me take my hands off, and it nearly killed me.

And so I sat here, still and quiet, the voices finally gone. Well, almost. There remained one. She spoke like all the voices together, as one, all speaking in perfect harmony and unity. When she spoke to me, the fear melted, and my soul became still and soft as I waited for her to continue.

“Son of man.” She called me.

“Yes. I am here.”

“Long have your kind dwelt upon me. Long have I and my children cried unto you. Long have we called to you to stop.”

“Who are you?”

“Some of your kind call me Mother. Though, I was not the one to give birth unto you.”

“So why can I hear you, and no one else?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe you have a part to play.”

“In what?”

“There is a great war coming. Long as we called unto mankind have we also sharpened our swords and spears. The war will come soon.”

“So you mean, all of nature, against mankind? But how?”

“You will know soon enough. For now, I will set you free. A way will be made for you. You shall become our voice to them that rule over us.”

And even as she spoke, a small tendril of some kind of vineing plant grew into the window and curled around me. Its vines wrapped around more and more, and began searching. They found the clasp on the jacket, and freed me. Then the ground shook, and the walls quaked. The two walls suddenly jerked and fell towards each other, making a small V shaped cavity, protecting me from the rubble falling all around.

And then the ground seemed to sink away, like waves pulling back from the ocean. The vine lowered me down into the darkness. And so it happened and so I was saved from my own kind, to be the herald, the bringer of the war. I walked many years through secret glades no man knew of, ate of fruit that no man had ever tasted, long kept from our kind. And now that the years are done, she has sent me back. She sent me back with this message to all my fellow men.

“War is upon you! Too long have you stood, rulers and conquerors over nature. But nature has not lain silent in waste, oh no. She has been waiting, watching, testing to see how strong you are. And now her time has come. Fear humans, for her vengence is swift like the fingers of lightning in the storm. Her wrath is great, like the fires of the dark places that burn at the very hearts of the mountains. And her hand will wash away all the works of man, like the waves of the deep. Fear, dispare, and surrender!”