Farlaquin

Haunted by his memories, and the alluring draw of AFI, I pull out an old book I wrote.

I open the pages immediately engulfed in the evanescent driftings of memories long forgotten….

It needs a hefty edit and dusting off, but the story is certainly worth saving.

In the revamp of my High Fantasy series, this character was going to be cut.

However, his tragic romance and undying love for a main character may yet see light of day.

As I painfully read this old story, written in a past I often wish to forget, his presence haunts me like a ghost.

Piercing dark emerald eyes, flowing nutmeg brown hair, and a smooth comforting voice overwhelm me.

I tune into another AFI song to keep him alive in my mind, wondering whatever happened to the affair my soul had with this character.

When I wanted to escape reality and pour my soul out, Farlaquin was there.

When I longed to dance in a world I couldn’t possibly physically touch, I drowned in my imagination and spent endless hours in a place once called Elverqueist.

Tonight, seduced by the memories and need to clench my thirsty soul, I look back and see him again….

And for the first time, I miss him.

He reaches a hand to me, his eyes gentle. His whisper sends tingles through my mind, as again I am seduced by worlds so far away….. that I desperately wish to reach.

His brow dropping to mine, calling me, a new scene introducing him in the new book rewrite comes to mind.

And for the first time, I am sure that his story needs told.

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Every Day

Every day I come to my wordpress blog, and every day I fail to write.

It’s not that I don’t have words!  I have so many words.
Perhaps it’s that I lost the art of using them?

Writers keep writing what they write, a song about the dark says so.

Why do I stop?  Why have I been incapable of producing the words I so eagerly long to share?

I wish I understood them.

I wish I could make them flow in the ways they used to.

Somewhere along the way, I locked them up where no one could see.  Instead of validation I found emptiness in a greedy world where everyone wants to be heard.

So I silenced my voice.

And then I found those who would oppose me, and force their concepts down my throat without hearing what I would have to say, and I stopped speaking.

The Value we take from one another when we deem ourselves as more important!

The Value we take from one another when we choose to not listen to their heart, and take it for the treasure that it is.

Instead we fume, we rage!  We foam at the mouth, because our school of thought cannot comprehend that of the other.

One of us is free, and gives ourselves away whole-heartedly, and the other is limited by a box that they do not understand controls them, and instead of being honest and true they snuff out the light.

Why do we destroy each other?

Why must the light one sheds be darkened by another?

If someone is shining brightly for all the word to see, is this not enough for Humanity?
Correct them in love.  Not judgement.

Correct them in hope.  Not rage.

Sacrifice your own abysmal failure to love with reckless abandon, instead of screaming at them with your actions to change for the sake of your intolerance.

There is a Truth.  And this Truth is solid and just.  Don’t silence the voices who share the truth because it doesn’t agree with your school of thought.

Watch them, brave and bold, and know they are sharing from the depths of their hearts and soul, to connect all of humanity with a greater good.

 

…..Every day I wait, longingly for the words to return.  They trickle slowly in.
But why do I abandon them?

Blank Page

Hello white screen.

I’m here to stare at you again.

I have hopes that your magic powers of illumination will draw the Words from my brain.

Pulling them from the core of me, as my eyes stare beyond you into Universes still unknown to the world.

Yet you sit there.  Empty.

You are the one with greater power, scaring my ideas away.

Intimidating me, with your flashy white teeth, the ink wont bleed and discolor your face.

Perhaps we need to chat about my pursuits.

You see, I am trying to write a story.

As you flash the cursor line at me, blinking anxiously as my fingers wait to patter away at the keys…..

This is nonsense.  I should be greater than you!  I can slay you with that tiny little X at the top corner!  I can will you to go away!

……however, this causes me more problems than it does you.  You will smile one last time with a wicked laugh as you flash away victorious.

How do we meld our minds so that we might summon the words peacefully?  Drawing from my inner pool of creation as one might a fountain?

Blank page, I think of you all the day long.  I think of the words I might put to you.  The stories I anxiously wish to tell…..

And yet you remain.  Here.  Untouched.

Intimacy we should share!  My heart would overflow to you in a precarious romance, in which I slaughter my soul at the eyes of the world.

Summon from me words.  I beg you.

Draw each of them out.  Rend my soul if you must.  Just let them flow.

Caught Daydreaming

Our eyes meet through the glass.  My heart skips and tension constricts my throat.

Flustered I stand silently beside you, as though we are old friends and this is not the first we meet.

I wonder what you think, desiring to know everything filling your mind.

Nervous, awkward, I fish for words.  Irony, being a wordsmith with none on my tongue.

Desperately I wish to just stare at you.  Study you.  Take you in.  Memorize every detail as you sit across the table, before moving to my side.

Under scrutiny, I do not stare.  I hold my breath finding words for the first time -though, they do not flow as I might wish.

Amid the constant distraction, I am aware of warmth.  You are there beside me.  It is real.

Every little detail swirls in a fog of delightful memory.  Memories to recall forever.

A gentle guiding press, directing as we walk.  When we stop your eyes pierce my soul, sending electricity through my chest.  I have never known a “spark”.  Who knew they felt like lightning?

Is this how Imprinting should feel?  Searing into my chest forever the wondrous desire for you?

Faet & Fantasy : Breigh

Dashing about to complete her work on time, Kiena wasn’t entirely sure how she would still have time to change before the dinner.

Having successfully avoided the Winter Fae after that day, she was now faced with mandatory presence at the welcome dinner.

The colony at Raven’s Dell always had a welcoming dinner, and Kiena generally volunteered to decorate.  Her magic conjured joy, and she would spend countless hours enchanting table decorations to boost the mood.  Every once in a while frustration would show up and discolor the object she was enchanting.  It was tedious expressing joy for so long during mundane tasks.

This year, considering all she felt was melancholy and sadness, she did not volunteer to decorate.  In fact, with the manipulation of atmosphere sure to toy with her mood she felt no inclination to go either.

Sighing heavily, Kiena looked through her wardrobe to figure out what to wear.

The image of the winter fae smiling at her and shaking his head flashed in her memory, causing Kiena to flinch with embarrassment.

After a few moments she was dressed and ready to go.

El Niño

A little boy emerged from the sea looking for his playmate.

Once he emerged, and the world welcomed him.

A second time, chaos ensued and the people scoffed.

They shook their fists at the sky, they threw their hands up in the air.  Some wept, others laughed.

Angry, the little boy confused their seasons, scattering the Winter in strange places.

Where piles should drift, there were none.

Where ice should be dripping, rain fell instead.

Frustrated the people continued to complain.

The little boy did not relent.

Meanwhile groundhogs everywhere laughed, playing with the boy as he ran through the fields and forests looking for his playmate.  Still she could not be found.

While Mother Nature slept her children were up to no good.

Faet and Fantasy : Kiena

Kiena circled the glen slowly, wrapped in thought.  Her eyes mindlessly scanning the flowers she buzzed past, her hair gently whisked at her face.  She held an arm behind her back, keeping her toes pointed to the ground while in flight. Instead of watching where she was going the fae started when fur collided with her face.

Grinby, her dearest fox friend barked in surprise.

“Oh, I apologize Grinby.”  Kiena spit fur from her mouth, pulling a strand of decent length from her tongue.

“You’ve been quite distracted lately, Kiena,” Grinby chuckled.

“I don’t mean to be.”  Her eyes stayed focused beyond the ground, her expression still blank.  “I’ve lost all sense of direction since they left.”

They being Rynn and Acacia.

Grinby offered a smile meant to comfort, though foxes rarely can look empathetic beyond their natural pointed scowl.  “I know my dear.  We all hate to see you like this.  Is there anything I can do?”

Kiena shook her head, her black curly tresses bouncing untamed with the motion.  Her empty eyes seemed to glisten as she quickly wiped her nose and looked away, “It wouldn’t help anyway, I’m fine.”  She sniffed once, smiling to Grinby without cheer.

Grinby nodded slowly, “Well, I was off to the cubs to bring in dinner.  If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

“Thank you,” Kiena said trying to appear sincere, though she knew it wasn’t working.

The fox left, and the faerie decided it best to try to head home.  Twilight began setting in, early though it was as winter approached.  A chilly wind gusted suddenly.  Kiena braced herself against it, welcoming the cold.  Soon she could shiver and others wouldn’t ask if she were alright.

And why did they ask anyway?  What could anyone do about it?

There was more silver lining to be thankful for, she reminded herself.  The winter fae would be migrating again, and no doubt they would take attention off of her for a few months so Kiena could finally mend her sullen mood.

Lit mushroom lanterns dotted the tiny village as she made it back to Raven Dell.  Some of the fae were out dancing at a festival of sorts near the top of the rocky face.  Perhaps it was a birthday for a youngling?

The image brought back the memory of Rynn and Acacia’s wedding.  It had been a lovely event.  Acacia had been a vision of a bride.  Her blonde hair shining like gold to offset her burgundy dress.  Rynn had not taken his eyes off her the entire night.  He was enchanted with the fae.

Tears blurred Kiena’s vision again and she quickly ducked inside her tiny home.

Her main room looked out into a cleft of the dell where she could watch passersby.  Tonight, she did not light the candle on her table, she simply went into her room and stretched out on the bed going instantly to sleep.