The Ranger of Severum – Episode 11

As they docked, Trillian immediately noticed the warm hues of various colored wood.  The buildings were designed in a pattern of wood and stone Trillian had never seen before.  The scent of wood surrounded them in a pleasing way the ranger found comforting, but something else had caught his attention.  In the sky there were several contraptions floating about in the air.  Remembering Yulissa’s warning to not stare, he tried to divert his eyes from the phenomenal sight, certainly noting to ask the woman about it later.

Yulissa directed them through the winding docks and into the city.

The people wore strange clothing Trillian was unfamiliar with.  There were laces on every piece of outer clothing.  The women wearing constricting contraptions that laced over top of their ruffles, and the men wearing lacing vests and various hats.  Even their shoes laced, which was not uncommon for some boots, but all shoes?

A few of the passers-by wore strange goggles, and every last motorized contraption had a series of metallic spokes all working in unison, causing them to move.

Such miraculous and odd things Trillian had never seen before, and he tried exceptionally hard to keep from staring as they passed one after the other.

His black outfit seemed to blend in, though he was without laces and vests.  Yulissa had changed into one of these strange outfits the other women were wearing, though Trillian hadn’t noticed until now.  Her skirt was shortened in the front, and dipped to the ground in the back, fluffed in ruffles.

“Fluffed seems an appropriate word.” Trillian thought to himself as they rounded a street corner and walked into a building.  The glass doors were also new and strange to Trillian, being able to see into most of the buildings through large storefront windows, and their similarly designed glass doors, all framed in wood.

“Hello!”  Yulissa called out, walking to the front desk.

“Just a moment,” a muffled cry came from somewhere behind the curtain spanning the doorway behind the counter.

Trillian wondered if this were a good moment to speak, and looked to Yulissa.  “Where are we?”

The woman held her hand up, shaking her head briefly.

A comical sort of man emerged from the back, his vest in brightly colored patches, while his unkempt white hair splayed about his shoulders, circling round his balded head.  He had a pair of strange large goggles on his head, with smaller circles of glass stacked on one another on one side.

“Yulissa, my dear,” he exclaimed.  “I wasn’t expecting to see you for another two weeks, what brings you back so early?”

“I could use some funds for these, Maxus.”  Yulissa pulled out her velvet bag of treasures, dumping the contents gently on the countertop.  Pieces she hadn’t been able to sell in Severum knowing she’d get a better price somewhere else.  “I haven’t much time, what are these worth?”

The shopkeeper picked them up one at a time, gemstones in various shades and sizes, pendants on golden chains, and a chain of pearls and gold.

Trillian didn’t see any reason to watch as she sold them and began wandering through the shop.  He was fascinated by the amazing things surrounding them.  Various decorative pieces, candelabras and smaller candle stick holders, unique sculptures crafted from metal and those strange spoked circles, what seemed houses for birds with numbers on small circular faces and tiny arrows that pointed to the numbers, hung staggered along a wall behind a counter.  More wooden and glass boxes containing the same circle and number pattern sat on the glass counter top, with even more various styles of them down inside the glass counter.

He’d never seen so many knick-knacks and decorations all in one place.  He knew smiths who could create such pieces, and Severum had oil lamps, but nothing quite like the lamps he saw here.  They had a glowing orb inside of them that seemed to shine by itself.

A few moment later, Yulissa was ready to leave and they were back out into the busy street.  Trillian had also never seen so many people moving about, the people of the city appeared to be free, untouched by darkness.  Trillian wondered what that kind of a life must be like, never worrying for your life or if the dark overlord was going to summon you to punish you for some deed or other.

“When we get to the next place, you can ask all the questions you like, thank you for being so patient.  You’re both doing quite well, I’m impressed, though worry what life at the Severum must have prepared you for.”  Yulissa turned briefly to Trillian, still guiding them on their way.

His lips drew to the side in a brief smile, “It doesn’t differ beyond what you have already seen, in your short visit, I assure you.  However, once in a while Lord Sideon hosts a public execution.”

A sullen shadow visibly passed the woman’s face.  With a gentle, sympathetic smile, “We’re not far. ”  Yulissa continued walking with more purpose to her step.

Trillian knew the concept had made her uncomfortable, himself beginning to wonder what kind of a life this woman must lead to be unaccustomed to the darkness.

 

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Acoustic

Cheyenne sang loudly with the small group sitting around the room, as the melodious reverberating sound of an acoustic guitar filled the space around them.

It brought warmth and a deep-seeded joy to hear the sound of Austin’s voice singing as he played. His eyes closed, his head fell back occassionally as he bobbed his head and body in rhythm to the music.

Cheyenne felt the presence of the Spirit stirring in the room as they worshipped in song together.

Tonight was simply a night of reflection and worship, to the glorious sound of an acoustic guitar, with their closest of friends. The fellowship that drew their hearts together like nothing could ever break them apart, was overwhelming in the deepest of ways.

Austin began to slow the tempo and his strum became gentle as the song came to an end, right before the next started.

Nothing in the world brought more delight to Cheyenne than hearing an acoustic guitar fill the expanse of a small room. It was certainly her most favorite sound in all of the world. Nothing could compare to it. Each chord humming in enchanting rhythm with the next, sustained evenly as a sound that pleased the ears, with gentle vibrations she could feel in her chest.

Closing her eyes, taking in the moment, Cheyenne was at peace, and all was right with the world, in a supernatural way that only the presence of God could provide.

In this moment she thanked Him for the guitar, and for music. For the mystical way an acoustic guitar could romance the soul, and for the talent God had given to Austin to master the technique.

And then she praised God from the depths of her soul, taking nothing in the moment for granted, knowing that this time she spent with her dearest of friends and the mingling of the Holy Spirit was special. She hoped the others felt as connected in Spirit as she did.

They spent time together long into the early hours of the night enjoying each others company, singing together, praying for one another, and abiding in love and joy, comforted to know the things that mattered most to their broken hearts were easy to share with one another, in a way that brought healing and hope.

And when they had said goodnight, Cheyenne curled up in bed content, reflecting on the time they had spent together, still filled with peace and joy. Still remembering the enchanting lull of the guitar as Austin played for them.

And it was the sound of the acoustic guitar seered into her memory as she fell asleep.

Faet & Fantasy: Dark Blue

Time was counting down as Kiena finished getting ready for the banquet.  She had picked a dark blue dress that gently sparkled when light caught it.  As she looked into the mirror, a brief memory rushed to her mind of Rynn.

“Blue is your color,” his eyes smiled as he spoke the words.

Gazing at her reflection, she tried to make the memory pass before it crept into her heart and made her cry.  Kiena turned quickly to the window, touching the glass.  The glass fogged under the warmth of her finger tips.

“I miss you, old friend,”  She whispered, closing her eyes and letting the cold permeate her fingers, the sensation reaching to her wrist.

It was better to feel the cold, than heartache.  Perhaps that’s why she loved winter so much?  The cold created a numbness that one constantly needed to fight in order to survive, leaving little room to feel emotion.  Winter Fae were not so touched by the cold, and she being half-winter thoroughly enjoyed the cold.

Regaining her countenance, Kiena noticed Breigh flying toward her ledge.  Suddenly her heart beat felt as though it would fly from her chest.  She hadn’t expected to feel so off-guard just watching him.

The moment of sadness instantly vanished, leaving Kiena in twisted nervous knots as she opened to door to Breigh.

His eyes sparkled, smiling brightly as he took her in, “Kiena, you look brilliant.”  He extended his arm to her, “Shall we?”

She reached for his arm, a new feeling of joy reaching into her heart as he led her out the door, and into the beautiful winter twilight.

Never Ending Fantasies

What do you do when you figure out you missed it?
How do you pick up the pieces when you realize it’s never going to be the same it could have been?

Trust is meaningless. Hope is frail. Illusions of a dream never meant to come true.

Prince Charming is a joke. Love is elusive, meant for tales we weave beyond our woes.

Dreamers exist to brighten the world with fallacies. We lose ourselves in the romance of fantasy.

Dreams and wishes our hearts make put us fast to sleep, slumbering in clouds to escape reality.

Reading ourselves stories to brighten the night, where every happy ending is true. For who reads to remind themself life is frail?

And now broken love remains. A light to shine out to the others, perhaps someone might be cheered from this endless gloom.

Take heart, hope at least burns for someone. It doesn’t mean reality gets better. But at least you know someone cares. I can care enough for you when you lose sight of yourself.

Yesterday, I was 30

I’m going to be cliche and write 30 things I have learned in the last 30 years, in light of turning 30 yesterday.

  1. Your love language is extremely important to understand.
  2. Nothing in life ever goes the way you planned.
  3. The most important role in your life is simply to be You.
  4. When your world shatters, don’t make dumb decisions.
  5. The people who are supposed to love you the most, have the strongest ability to tear you apart.
  6. Trust is fleeting.
  7. Fulfillment doesn’t exist in mortal things.
  8. If you know with the core of your being you shouldn’t do something, don’t do it.
  9. Pleasing people gets you nowhere.
  10. You’re going to miss the most important things in life if you rush through and don’t stop to listen and consider the “why shouldn’t I do this?”
  11. You cannot rely on someone else to be what you need. They will fail you when you need them most.
  12. If friends are distant, just let them go. No matter how much it hurts.
  13. If you matter to someone, they will keep you in their life.
  14. Children are the most delightful joy you will ever possess in this Life.
  15. If someone is relying on you, always make sure to accomplish what they need in a reliable amount of time.
  16. It’s better to lie to everyone that you’re okay, than tell them when it’s not.
  17. Life is continually disappointing, and there’s no turning back from a mistake.
  18. Everyone has an opinion. Seek the Truth, that is what matters most.
  19. God will never leave you, or forsake you.
  20. Jesus Christ is literally the only entity you can count on.
  21. If you know it is a bad idea DON’T DO IT.
  22. Staying stuck on the things that make you unhappy, makes you unhappier.
  23. There is so much peace in silence.
  24. Making friends past 25 is hard.
  25. Isolating yourself, while it does protect you, only makes you lonely.
  26. Sometimes, you go through things in life, and literally have NOBODY you can actually talk to about it.
  27. The loneliest place you can be, is in a crowded room where no one knows you.
  28. The second loneliest place you can be, is in a crowded room where everyone knows you, but you cannot connect with those people, no matter how hard you’ve tried.
  29. Having friends with things in common is worth Gold.
  30. Don’t be afraid to take chances.

Dismal list, the inside of me isn’t exactly the happy, bubbly Sprite I try to be.
Because of my own loneliness, I try so desperately to light the world around me, so others know someone loves them, someone thinks they’re important, and someone doesn’t want them to know the same emptiness I feel.
You can always rely on me to be there for you. No matter the time of day.

Shine brighter than the stars. Even when it kills you inside.

Dream, Love.

**This was written over a year ago, and accepted to be published.  It never published, and there is no sign that it will ever be published.  So I finally decided it was time to put it on my blog.The theme was “Write a piece inspired by a song”.

The song I wrote this to was “Alive” by Jose Gonzalez.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tick. Thump. Tick. Thump. Tick. Thump. Tick.

The sound of your heart echoes the rhythm of the clock.

Comforted by the rise and fall of your chest in steady breaths, I know I’m safe.

You work so hard, with very little return. It’s apparent in the way you sigh tonight.

You hesitate. You forget to breathe.

Gently squeezing your hand, I nestle closer. Beside of you, I know it’s going to be okay.

Do you know how much I love you?

Does my love help?

Does it ease your weary mind?

It isn’t fair the way life jades us. Breaking our spirit so we give up chasing fantasies and childhood dreams.

What once brought joy, brings tears.

What once caused your heart to flutter, now leaves your heart broken.

Darkness settled, and it swept away your smile.  It took your soul with it, leaving your voice hollow.

I remember what your laugh used to sound like.

I remember the glint of passion in your eyes.

I miss the warmth of your smile.

My fingers brush gently through your hair as your eyes move under tired lids.

It comforts me to know you’re dreaming. Whatever are you dreaming of?

Am I still in your dreams?

Rushing from one thing to the next leaves you tired and aching, longing just to sit and clear your head.

The stress of the day stops melting away, instead it festers and gnaws at you, dragging you down a lonesome, tired road of anguish.

It shouldn’t be this way. Seeing it manifest causes my heart to break.

What can I do? What does your heart need that I can give?

Can I alleviate the burden long enough to give you rest?

Do you remember how to rest? To give in to the refreshing tides of sleep.

When it seems the money is always needed, or the stack of bills won’t shrink any smaller, and nothing is going your way, reach out and take my hand. It’s not moving from where I left it.

It was promised to you. And you keep it.

I’ll be here when you come home. Rubbing knots from your neck and shoulders, soothing the tenderness with a gentle kiss.

My arms might be frail, but they’re strong enough to hold you when you can’t hold yourself.

Let me carry your burdens. Give me your broken dreams, let me help grow something new. When you lose sight of tomorrow, let me hope for you.

I need you. I need your warmth. I need your life. I need your smile.

Night only lasts for a moment, and then the sun peaks the horizon again. Gradually, as though giving hope to the world, with a dimly lit break of dawn.

It just takes time. To everything, there is a season. This too shall pass.

Remember this when it seems to never end.

When the world caves in and all you hear is seconds ticking away, remember my hope is drawn from the rhythm of your beating heart.

 

Writing Exercise – Temptation

Greg found his cousin amusing. Karissa had shown up early in the day to visit their grandmother. Greg was currently living in their grandmothers basement biding his time through life, however, currently trying to clean it up. Well, as much as he could while working in an adult superstore.
Karissa’s quirky attitude, and cynical sense of humor was interesting. She definitely had become different than the girl he remembered. Although, he didn’t know how he felt about her current choice of fashion. Was she supposed to be some kind of hippie?
The way she dressed aside, her presence tonight screwed with his head. The first thing he had noticed was how her figure had blossomed since she had finally grown up. There was nothing left of that awkward kid he once knew. Having a baby had gently spread her hips and nicely bulged her breasts.
He shook his head, attempting to rub the sudden image of her from his eyes.
They’d all gone to bed hours ago. After watching a movie, he hadn’t been able to sleep. Currently, his caffeine addiction had him drinking energy drinks like water. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had sex in ages, and here was the perfect opportunity to indulge and relieve his aching body. Or was it so perfect?
There were too many variables. First, their grandmother was sleeping in the next room from her. Second, her infant son was probably snuggled up in her arms sleeping next to her.
If he was going to do anything, it was roll over and go to sleep.
You could always just rape her.
“Where the hell did that come from?” He asked himself, his eyes popping open.
Think about it. You know she wouldn’t consent, that’s crazy.
She was sleeping right above his room, tucked into a large, beautiful bed. Probably sleeping softly and sweetly. A gentle inhale. A gentle exhale. A gentle inhale. A gentle-
“STOP IT!” he internally screamed to his brain.
Sitting up in bed, throwing his legs over the side, he felt that familiar, aching urge for a cigarette. Giving up every negative stimulant in his life was hard enough, and his body did starve desperately for a woman. Choosing between the two in this instance, the cigarette sounded better.
“God, cleanse these disgusting thoughts.” He prayed. “I want to give this habit up.”
You’re disgusting. Look at you, what would God want with you anyway? You make money selling people porn, and indulgences in sick fantasies. You give people the opportunity to cheat on their spouses. You give people the opportunity to hurt and bruise and bleed. You give them the chance to pursue their darkest dreams. You can’t even quit smoking long enough for God to save you.
Greg accepted those thoughts, gnawing his teeth. “I just need a cigarette. That’s it. Just one.”
Giving up smoking was the hardest thing he had ever struggled with. Sure, porn and sexuality were battles every man fought, right? Smoking, however, was a crutch. Soothing. Relaxing. Suffocating. Sex you could have once and relieve the body for a moment. Cigarettes gave, and gave, and gave.
Just go up the stairs.
“No.”
Go.
“Stop it.”
You. Need. This. She won’t press charges. You’re family. She won’t tell anyone, nobody would believe her anyway.
Balling his fists, Greg got up to pace around the room. His own dark fantasies swirled through his mind like poison. It made him feel dirty, thinking about Karissa that way. She was his kid cousin, he remembered holding her as a baby. And here she was, married with a little one of her own.
It wasn’t the sex he wanted so much right now, as it was the cigarette he was trying to be free from. “Just one. I just want one.”
The hours crept down out of the night, and Greg won the battle against raping Karissa.
The next two days he avoided her like the plague. The fact that his mind had so thoroughly explored her made it awkward for him to be around her. He didn’t even want to see her after that. At least, not for some time.
Memories of that night plagued him for the next several days, and the urge for a cigarette never went away.
On Friday, once his paycheck hit, he stopped at the first convenient store and swiped his card without a second thought.
In the protection of his little car, with nobody around to hear his thoughts, he opened up the box, put the roll between his lips, shakily lit the end of it, and lost all of the ground he tried so desperately to cover in the next inhale of pure, sweet, nicotine.