The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Locust on November 24, 2004, 04:06:00 AM
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It was there again this dream that haunted me since, I don’t know actually. It just was there when I became conscious of it. The monks have talked about an accident but they can tell nothing of the circumstances, the cause. Heck. These questions I cannot answer myself. But can my past be found in this dream or is it telling me a story of a horrific future? Maybe it’s all a fantasy that only exists in my mind. Anyway my first memory goes back to this ever-present dream fantasy or not.
In this dream there is this chain slowly swinging on the rhythm of my hart, left to right, squeaking when it changes direction. I have the impression it is attached to me but I do not see how or where. Also I can not see it’s end because at one point is simply disappears into darkness. Besides the squeaking I hear a voice singing from far behind me, comforting me as my dream continues.
Then every so often the tension in the chain increases until I feel it pulling me. I try to resist it and I don’t move. It’s obvious that a force pulls the chain. Pulling until my strength gives way and pain enters my body. It feels as if my muscles will be torn apart, pain is immense. I shout, I cry, tears don’t take away the pain only seem to intensify it. I’m a puppet, a toy, to the force pulling the chain, playing with me. Soon after the singing behind me stops and a blur enters my view form behind and overtakes me. It rapidly follows the chain until it is too out of my view and moments later I hear the loud clashing of metal upon metal. Slowly the tension in the chain is released and when the sounds of battle disappear I feel myself again without the pain, in control of what I can do. With the pain gone I see the blur returning quickly taking its position far behind me. And the comforting songs? They continue in a language I do not understand.
This was the ever-present dream I had when I was still comatose and in the care of the monks. By counting the swings I noticed it took longer and longer before the invisible force would try to pull me closer. Until one day I woke up out of my comatose state and the dream was gone, not to appear again even after the monks brought me to full health and released me from their care. But the dream it has come back to me tonight.
This time there were no monks and I woke up on the floor face up, alone. My left hand ached as if it had been burning and the ‘III’ tattooed on it had changed from green to the deepest shade of black. When I touch my hand I only feel the cold sweat that also covers the rest of my body and the blisters that had formed on it. Blankets hang from the bed onto the floor barely covering part of my body. I’m shivering and wondering how long I have been lying there on the floor. When I get up I notice some burn marks on the blankets and when I try my hand on the marks it fits perfectly. This discovery, it leaves me both wondering and shocked at the same time.
~ Na~hani
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With his hand still bare and throbbing with pain the caring words of the monks are heard again in Na~hani’s mind.
‘Wear this glove. Don’t take it off. It will protect you from the dream. It will protect you when you scream’
The monks didn’t tell much more than that and after wearing it for several weeks and studying it in detail it became just a glove as any other one. The only thing that made it stand out from any other glove was the silver colored linen around it.
From the start wearing it became a discipline with the monks reminding him every time he took it off even if only for a short period. Through time though he became accustomed to his ‘handicap’ but still some tasks, like some delicate tinkering or applying bandages, had to be left to others to who could deal with it better then him.
But once released the discipline slackened and Na~hani became lax. And so it happened that he wore the glove only during the days leaving it on the nightstand when he went to sleep.
Now remembering the words and with the pain in his hand Na~hani quickly grabbed the glove from the stand. Sheathing it over his hand he immediately felt a sensation through his body. The pain slowly ebbed away and when he lifted the glove slightly from his skin he noticed that the blisters on his hand slowly shrunk and the tattooed ‘III’ regained its original color. After a while the tingling feeling returned in his hand and the cold gave in to the usual warmth.
Again he wondered why, after such a long time, this dream appeared to him again. Was it because he hadn’t worn the glove continuously and was now punished for it? Was it the thrill of the hunt earlier that day, the hunt that got two children back to the safety of the village walls? Was it the fear he felt when confronted by Ogres or similar kind? Maybe it was the spear they found on the body of the Lizard? Questions, more questions drifted to the surface, questions he could not answer for the moment.
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Hmmm .. right .. how do I write this down. I’m just not very good at expressing my feelings but this .. the best thing to do is to write it down so my mind can have some rest.
Don’t get me wrong I’m the last one who will be out there killing at random and without purpose or goal. No that’s not me, that can't be me. I to go out there and defend myself and others sure, I won’t be slaughtered without a fight, that’s okay I hope since one has to make a living and I can't make that solely in town. No its something else bothering me and I can’t get a grip on it.
It is the feeling I had when we rescued these little children from a bunch of lizards. It’s the feeling I had again the past few days when I and a few companions were out there traveling towards Port Hampshire. The rush, the hightened senses, feeling of pain flowing away and something, this something, taking it’s place. The will to protect life and the believe that in any being the will to live is stronger than it is to die, is that how this feels?
Some will say it’s the adrena1in pumping through your veins when your live is on the line. No that’s not it. Some will say it’s in the nature of men to defend and kill when one is attacked or a way to search for fame and fortune. Neither. No it lies somewhere else.
But what is it then? I can hardly wield a blade with effciency. Sure I can parry a blow or two but my blade hasn’t ended a live yet. No others more experienced can strike with more efficiency ending lives without much terror. Am I coward because of that? A coward that can not take a life even if it means others will suffer because of it? Should I be ashamed of this? Is this what I feel?
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When he lays down his notes his eyes simply stare in the distance for a few minutes. After the candle dies down he puls his sheets over him while his head rests on his pillow. It doesn’t take long before he catches his sleep.
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*carved in an old piece of leather armor*
Metal upon metal
The sound of battle
Armor is worn
Souls are torn
Blood its flowing
The death toll growing
Victory was it there?
Victory it was nowhere
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White, purple, orange, yellow, violet and red, the colors of the flowers that surround me while lying in their bed. On my back I look into a clear deep bleu sky. A bumblebee buzzes in one of my ears as it feeds on the nectar while a cricket is playing its songs in the other.
Green in all its varieties, plain, deep, with a touch of brown or black, playful, beautiful and serine. To my left, in the trees, robins are busy collecting insects for their youngsters while a blackbird searches for worms in a moss-grown forest floor. To my right a few wild stallions are drinking water from a pond. While I enjoy the creations of the druids of these lands I close my eyes to take a moment and become one with the solitude of this place.
Abruptly the solitude is broken when the earth starts shaking violently. Nature flees and while I try to join them in their retreat I can’t. A force is pushing me down and while I try to scream for help I almost choke and I’m no longer able to take the air into my lungs. Helplessly I struggle while the shaking intensifies with every passing second until the earth cracks open right beside me and I roll over into the abyss. Falling until everything goes dark around me.
…..
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It doesn’t take to long before my eyes adjust themselves to the darkness. Two silhouettes several yards away from me are swaying their blades at each other. At their feet numerous others lay still, I assume they are dead.
As the silhouettes become more pronounced I see both are in full battle dress. A helmet is blocking their faces form view, their shields and armor plating is battered and worn in places and, in several places, unprotected skin is visible underneath. One of the blades is parried by the other as it tries to end a life, retracted and again prepared for another slash coming from the other side.
Suddenly the darkness is pierced by light coming from above. Rays of light shoot down all aimed at the striking blade beneath, hitting it in many places. Almost blinded I can still see the blade glowing as it enters the belly of one of the warriors through an unprotected spot in the armor. Following its path through the soft flesh the blade exits at the back probably breaking the spine along the way. Mist envelopes the beaten one and he is lifted a few inches form the ground, his blade falls to the ground as his hand can no longer hold on to the weight.
When the striker retracts his blade it comes our hissing from the heat that incorporates it. Fluids in the blood are quickly evaporating and a crust is formed fully enveloping the blade. Once fully retracted the striker lets go of the blade and when it hits the ground the crusts shatter leaving a clean blade still on the ground. The striker takes off his glove and a burned hand covered with blisters is visible. He is looking upward to where the light came from.
While this scene develops a few words are heard from the beaten one now hovering above the ground.
“En vanyo somin tu”
A soft breeze picks up and soon after the mist around the beaten is blown away and his body slumps lifeless to the ground.
With the thud of the body hitting the ground the darkness and the silhouettes on the ground disappear completely. White, purple, orange, yellow, violet and red, the colors of the flowers appear again. The armor around the striker briefly shimmers before it is gone completely revealing a man dressed in a regular pants and blouse that flutters on the wind. He turns his head until his face is revealed.
..........
With a shock Na~hani wakes up. His hand, although covered by his glove is again throbbing and painful. He is alone again and covered in sweat this time. And the pain, he hopes his glove will take away most of it so that is again becomes bearable.
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Was it a test or simply a trick by the warlock we were after that day?
After receiving some information about the whereabouts of the warlocks tower we were taken to this area near Fort Hope. We managed to defend ourselves against the many giants that populate the area and somewhere halfway through we found ourselves free from danger for a moment.
While the rest moved on I noticed one of our companions stayed behind in the shadows of the trees. I stopped and approached him since it appeared something was wrong with him. When I started to speak the shadows played some tricks on me as they briefly took him away from view, appearing again on the same spot within the second. While I was drawn to this phenomenon the others had moved on and I realized, to late, that I was alone with this companion in this hostile territory. It didn’t last long though as everything went black around me.
When I came to my companions were standing around me. I saw their mouth move as they spoke but I didn’t hear their voices. I didn’t hear my heartbeat and the blood rushing through my veins. It was absolute silence. One of my companions kneeled besides me and performed some kind of ritual. Soon after I heard my heart beating again and felt the blood flowing, my life returned. The sound of the forest and the voices of my companions, slowly but steadily I heard them again. I stammered some words of what I had seen and my companions answered that all were accounted for but that it was me that had gone missing.
Could it be test of Toran to see how far I would go to keep my word and to keep my companions safe from harm?
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Another uneventful day on the market, it seems no one is interested in some fine quality rat or badger pelts these days. The other day someone suggested I start a tailoring business but then I showed my hand and he understood that it was not made for such a fine art. I still have some money stashed for the cause in the bank but, without a regular income to support my live as a trapper, it is becoming harder by the day. Luckily the temple is asking much of my time as of late and through them I get to see a bid more of the world while they also provide me with the basics of life, some good meal and pure water.
Then there are the lonely days out there in the wild they have giving me time to think about what it is I’m feeling. At times I feel so full than at others I feel so empty inside. I walk alone with the wind in my back, I feel it passing my nostrils when I let out a deep sigh. Just like the wind it becomes something casual, you adapt and no longer think about it as something being special. This feeling has not gone beyond that stage yet.
Then there are my travel companions they have to be protected against their shortcomings. I try my best to fill the gaps, I do take the point at the back to cover the ones tapping in the weave and I do support the wounded until we find a place to rest and the priests can take over. I know that I don’t have to be in the front to wield my blade against an opponent. While it keeps me safe from harm it also allows others to better focus without having to worry about a wounded man in the back. I try to do all these little things that have to be done but that no one tends to see.
Sometimes it all gets too much when the group is falling apart. I cannot cover all of their backs at once and I fail in that what I have to do. My word to take care of them and keep the group together it fails and at those times .. yes .. I do feel empty.
I give and I give but how much can one actually give without receiving something in return. To be honest I have received something though. It is in those brief moments I have with my fellow adventures. Those that follow Toran say they know what I’m going through, they appear to be telling the truth and it helps, yet do they really understand what I’m going through. I can hardly describe in words what I experience, this feeling so familiar, as if I had it before, then again so strange.
Their advice all seems to point me into one direction though and that is to pray and ask Toran for his guidance maybe then I can receive a little of what I’m looking for. The answer to my feeling could it be in a prayer? And could that prayer reveal something of my past so that I understand why it sometimes feels so familiar? I guess I’m left with few options now and hopefully my friends at the temple can aid me with some of them.
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In one of the walls of the ruins located deep into the Sielwood area an alcove exists. Nobody has ever noticed it since it is covered from view by some low hanging branches and the shadow of a large oak tree.
While resting there with some friends sunlight briefly pierces the foliage of the large tree uncovering the entrance to the alcove. Curious you investigate and find some letters and parts of words hewn randomly into the sides of the alcove. Taking away the dirt and the moss that covers the whole text a pictures of several men are revealed as well. The men all look you straight into the eyes and have their hands folded together while holding an ankh. The text below reads.
We will be there in time of need
And we will fight the evil seed
We will persist in our strive
And we will protect it with our life
We will have faith in our belief
And we will resist what devils conceive
We will turn wrong to right
And we will bring the dark into the light
We will let the prophecy awaken
And we will aid the populace and the forsaken
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I will bust your trust not my God
Be as you are
True to me
I pray, I look inside myself and I focus just as people told me I should do when I pray. At first I found nothing until now that is. Trust in my faith, my belief in Toran. It is what gives me the guidance in live, a direction and it gives me something to hold on to in my decisions. It’s all I need from Him, it's all done for Him.
And when I open again my eyes what do I see. A world where trust is fragile and easily broken, people trusting no one and I wonder where they are without trust.
Without trust we would not have been able to find the keys that were part of the puzzle. Gods that still cooperate but what will happen when the blades are found. What will they do? Will trust hold and bring the blessing the world requires or will it break and become a threat to fear. Answers have to be found before it is to late.
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From the mist I hear the sounds of armor plating rubbing against each other, a horse snorting, the rattling of a chain. My breathing becomes louder in my ears and deep inside my heartbeat accelerates.`
Appearing from the mist I see a warhorse covered in full battle dress. On top a figure in a black cloak, its head covered by a hood. The cloak trails down along the flanks of the horse barely touching the ground below, form under the hood two red lights pierce into my soul.
Drawing its reaper of souls while he spurs his horse. Coming close I hear him speak
“Mortals will fall, fall on my whim. No one will be spared, no one. Your time will end, your time will come”
I feel him breathing down my neck, his hand gliding over the hairs covering my body. And as the chain is pulled its tension rises.
SHOCK
Another dream starts. Flashes of eyes, a key hanging in midair, light, blades slashing, dark, light again, a name. Synal'dur. Nothing.
Na~hani awakes from another night full of dreams. Gasping for air while his muscles are in spasm and his joints in agony. His glove covered hand burning with pain.
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After raiding a bugbear camp you enter the tent of their chieftain. Ravaging through his belongings you find a piece of paper.
Moving forward
From where I stand
Travelling on the endless road
There was no start
I can see no end
The reigns to loose
No longer control
Each step I suffer
A burden I carry
Pressing down on my feet
The torment and the pain
Giving in and stumbling
Falling forever
Realizing eternity
It only lasts so long
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I was a content man after I received the written answers from my fellow Toranites. Unfortunately the meeting the followed has not answered the questions we are after. After going through the various parts of the puzzle we have found so far we still have no clues that could lead to the location of the blades or what they can do.
I was lightly disturbed when the good miss Valianne told me the effect the second key had on Synal'dur. It was in one of my latest dreams that heard his name, could it be that I had some foresight into these events and that my other dreams tell me of my future. On the other hand my pain in my hand goes back to my first memories and the dreams can easily go past that point.
On another note I was delighted to hear that Synal’dur was protected from the worst side effects, protected by his blessings from Toran. Should it have stayed into the hands of the stranger in our party, most likely, he would have sold the key to the highest bidder right now.
The keys are now in our possesion but we have no idea how they function or what it is they will unlock. Also the blades remain a mistery both its location, or locations, and what good they will bring to us and this world. The good miss Valianna reminded us of the library that was mentiond by an elven druid we met on the way and of this traveling bard Ozymandias of whom I’ve heard but never met. And then there was this poem where we found a reference to a witch. But its words puzzle me, do they refer to the keys of to the blades? And if it refers to the keys we already found those. Maybe a letter to the head healer will help, I hope the other don’t mind me sending it without them knowing about it.
At the end of the meeting Synal’dur mentioned to me the drow and their soul venom that are currently threatening our world. Him being a drow raised an eyebrow with me but I told him in the past that I judge people on their actions and I haven’t seen anything in him that goes against my beliefs. And since he is blessed by the hand of Toran I can not do anything other then to trust him and his intentions.
For now let us focus on our path and let others deal with this threat at least as long as we can ignore it.
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Another friend of mine, Ellendil, cursed by the poison. This threat is drawing closer now that people close to me are affected by it as well. We spend some time in the temple talking with the healer over there but they are not able to help him or alleviate some of his burden. Ellendil also informed me of a deity that should cure him but for the moment this will remain a mystery. I promised to offer him my support in case he needs it.
While at the temple the Healer gave me some of his time to discuss the letter I wrote. We talked about several clues we, Valianne, Synal’dur and the others supporting us, already found, the keys and some information, old history, referring to blades in general.
Sword bearers is what the Healer mentioned, they are in some writings of a battle that took place a long time ago. But I have no recollection of such information, maybe my friends can help answer this question in more detail. We also discussed the old song, the poem from the clan of the bear but since it is not from this temple I probably should not put my hopes to high if we decide to seek out the members of this clan. We should study the keys a bid more. See if they can be brought together somehow or seek help from somebody who can.
I hope my thoughts will not become truth, a thought where we have to side with our enemies. Will champions of both sides take up the blades and free us from a threat? Will we have to put our differences aside to achieve a common goal in order to safe the world from this threat? Bring again order and peace into our cities and towns. If that proves to be the case we might require guidance as I personally feel that we will not be up for such a task. I simply cannot accept darkness in my live right now, I have no idea how to act or what to decide without forfeiting my bond with Toran or my friends. That would not be worth it.
On my way to the inn I could not let go of this thought. The words of the healer when we parted way “This I must entrust to my Paladins … support them well in spirit and knowledge” still echo in my head.
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I met this bard, Ozymandias, yesterday. He was telling my old friend Illin and a group of others a story of the Broken Forest and later some reference to the Broken Halls. A battle has raged there not to long ago, approximatly four to five years. Could it be again a coincidence or was I also somehow involved in this battle. It has been five years since I was brought to the temple of Toran in a comatose state. Anyway I got some answers when I managed to get some questions out. I hope I just have not given to much cleus as to what we are after, I don’t know him that well and whether he can be trusted.
The Broken Halls were once an elven fortress and in it there was a library at that time. The knowledge in the books however is immense and precise details should be questioned to the high temple clerics in Pranzis. One thing was clear there are numerous references to the sword bearers of Toran. Maybe one of them will be the one we are looking for. After going through the story I was surprised to hear that the champions of Toran and Rofirein, together with Coraths prince of darkness have fought as one in this battle for the Broken Forest before. I don’t know if that is an reassurance for me but it is good to know just in case.
Later Illin and I met with several others and it was good to see that Illin has not lost his wisdom and coolness in battle although, as I heard later, he had also been poisoned by the drow. After our trip Illin and Ellendil remained in Leilon to relax after the seavoyage. It was there that my mind trailed a bid and I seem to have lost a few seconds since when I became concious again I was facing the docks instead of my friends. I think they haven’t noticed it though.
When I finaly went for bed, tired and exhausted, words that I had read once came back from my memory. I noted them down just before I blew out the candle.
Various wild animals are regarded as savage beasts
Study them and they will become predictable
It is a weakness that can be exploited
Exploit it and the beast will turn into a docile animal
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Asoyo le en mi, mi asi keji mi asi
The cauldron is burning .. the fire is lit .. a hand full of blister aches but remains shielded by a glove taking away most of it .. putting it out.
Wanderers gather .. old friends meet .. aiding those without a clue.
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My dear friend Ellendil,
Past few weeks the twin blades and the meetings with Cubra and Droog of the Bear Clan have kept me rather occupied. Also I recently experienced several brief blackouts and, according to Illin, I talk gibberish at those times. Let us hope these blackouts will not intensify and that the clues to the member of the Bear Clan will lead the piece of the puzzle that will reveal the mystery of the twin blades.
But I write you this letter for another purpose. It is not long after we last met that I find myself alone again deep in the interiors of Sielwood forest. At moments like this I often reflect upon my recent experiences and lately it is your gift that I refused several weeks ago that has kept my mind occupied. In order to find some peace I prayed to Toran hoping to receive some guidance on my thoughts.
It is not long after I finished praying that a wolf appeared from the forest. Our eyes met and for several hours we stared to each other. While looking deep into his yellow eyes I came to realize I may depend on others who share the similar ideals as me without forfeiting my own. Through the wolf, which is resting at my feet, I understand this now.
You know that I never will profit from the spoils of war or from anyone else for that matter, it is against what I belief is right. At first I thought your gift was another one of those spoils and I rejected it because of that. But after our discussions, our joined outings and the meeting with the wolf I’ve come to realize that your gift is of a different nature. A sign that seals the bond between us, our friendship, but also acknowledges the bond between our Gods. I will be proud to wear such a gift my friend.
Toran is my guide and I will serve him with all my might, may He protect you as he protects me.
Greetings from a friend, Na~han-*a long strike follows as if the letter was suddenly pulled from his hands*
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*a kestrel land on Na~hani shoulder, with a letter tie on his paw*
My friend Na~hani,
A burden weight on my mind after you refused my gift several weeks ago. I was quite worried that this offer may have offend you and will decrease your friendship.
When we visited the Temple of Toran in Llast after our travel to Lar, I remind that as a Toran worshipper you follow a strict code of conduct and that may explain why you refuse such an offer. Our discussions and joined outing those last days relieve my mind as I understand that you haven’t misjudged my motivation.
Now learning you agree to receive this cloak as a gift from a friend to a friend is a real happiness. And knowing that an example of righteousness as you will wear it in his duty to Toran is an honour.
May the Prince of Wolves watch over you,
Ellendil Ar Calmacil
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Tu va asi jema
They bring you terror and nightmares
Allow me to bring peace in dreams
In the end we will sit side by side
There is our future, let it be bright!
Immortal love it will be forever sweet
-
News travels slowly when you spend most of your time in the forest trapping for game. The monks back at the temple informed me that one of Toran had fallen, not to return and serve Him. I knew him only from word to mouth but even then he was a great example to me, for us all. Who will now take his place? Will it be Synal’dur Hano’del, the black one whom I learned to trust. I don’t question his actions and decissions anymore, his intentions are real and although I sometimes have my doubts I will follow and protect him as far as my abilities will allow it. And what about Valianne? I haven’t been able to make up my mind about here yet, she probably has the same fears as I do. And what about others, there seem to be only few left to take up the blade in His name.
Maybe my new found friends can offer some answers. Ulver when I see him act and I hear his words it is as if I hear my own words resound in my mind. And then there is Brant, I don’t know about him, his words sometimes, some day they will bring him into trouble more than he can handle and then there will be no one to protect him.
Oh, and I have to remember this gift I have for this young girl, Naga, human in nature but wild in spirit. I hope the head priest was able to give it to her. If not I have a spare pouch hanging on my belt just in case.
Now as I pack my bag and ready myself for yet another journey for the blades thoughts weigh heavy on my mind. My recent blackouts will they not obstruct justice, has my time in Pranzis been long enough to keep them under control. Will I be able to stay loyal to my friends, to Toran, when a decission has to be made or am I ready to take over the helm and let my own judgement guide us. I will keep my eyes and ears open, remain vigilant and protect those that I follow.
-
Light it hot, light it hot
So the cauldron of the witch will burn
Keep it lit, keep it lit
So the twin sisters can swim
Put it out, put it out
So the sisters can rest
The witches song (by GM mixafix) that played its part in solving the riddle of the twin blades.
The blades they are no more, two blades locked in eternal battle have found their rest. Its spirits united in the symbol of a ring. Without beginning, without end, forever they found one another, forever locked they have found rest.
I did not understand though. Why would Toran’s paladin choose to keep them both? What is the influence the dwarf Kobal has on him? They came in well prepared and Synal’dur reassured me when he told me the dwarf is off Rofirien, his tone, they seemed to know each other as friends. But this doesn’t answer why? For the champions wield the blades and to fight the Dragon for us all? And why did we attempt to make the blade of neutrality?
It was I who wanted to save only one blade, the one filled with the spirit of Toran. But when I saw the two champions, invulnerable to the others blade yet battling each other until their strength had vanished my eyes opened and I saw a victory that could not be had, a victory was nowhere if only one blade remained. It was the sound of metal upon metal and the armor that was worn while their souls had been torn away to obey the bidding of the blades.
The one blade left without the other, forever seeking the other, forever mourning for the loss of the other. It would have sealed the fate, controlled the mind of the bearer of this blade just as it did with the champions as they fought in front of Storan’s Crypt. The bearer would be suffering from the same fate, the same burden as that of the witches of the Clan of the Bear, lost are they now to history, gone in mystery, alone. Leaving only one blade would have created a wandering blade, the bearer powerless in the battle we have to fight each day and that would have meant the loss of the paladin Synal’dur to Toran. A fate I cannot accept.
Looking back I gained a lot from this experience. These blades it was a fight between Gods. I cannot be part of that battle, I’m a mere servant of Him and I can only try my best to protect that what is His, we can not win Their battles for Them. I may cooperate with followers of these Gods or ask for their cooperation. I don’t have to be ashamed as long as in everything I do I’m able to protect the people. Let them see that by serving Him we will be able to bring order in the fight against disorder, destruction and death.
Which reminds me I have to find me a tailor. This cloak, Ellendil’s gift, it has to be fitted to my formal attire as it will strengthen our friendship even further. And this pouch is still hanging on my belt, growing impatient, waiting for the next meeting with Naga.
-
Look at life and you know death shall be ….. can be …..
There is a small pool located somewhere deep in Sielwood forest, it’s fed by the rain that has fallen that night. The damp air forming into the early morning mist is still hanging among the trees and slowly absorbed as the temperature of the air rises. A butterfly approaches greeting the first rays of the sun that enter the forest and penetrate through the low hanging mist. Fluttering while it slowly nears the pool. Behind it a trail of sparkles follows and when it finally flutters over the pool the trail reflects from the water surface below.
On the side of the pool a man is kneeling, scooping some of the fresh though muddy water into his hands and drinking it. The butterfly starts circling around the head of the man the moment he empties his hand in his mouth a second time, swallowing while everything around him goes quiet. Within the fluttering of the wings a few words become a sentence.
“Itone inja li adema” ….. “Itone inja li adema”
His hand moves again for the water surface, breaking it this time and reaching for the mud underneath. Scooping while he takes some mud in his hand and rubs it on his face, his arms and his pelted armor. In a single motion he draws the knife, hanging on his belt, from its sheath when some bushes a few yards away from him begin to shake violently. Aided by his reflexes he readies his knife to strike and quickly but quietly dashes in the direction of the bushes.
The last few feet he jumps, turning a little while in midair, landing on the back of a wild boar while the knife is already in between the shackles of the boars backbone. The backside of the boar slumps to the forest floor with a thud while its head keeps shaking violently to get this man of its back. Releasing his grip the man quickly moves besides the animal while he grabs on to one of the boars tusks, turning it he forces the boar to fall on its side on the ground. As it falls the knife is readied a second time and penetrates the chest of the animal. The knife slices through the chest of the animal while several of its ribs break in the process. Retracting the man lets go of the knife before it again reaches for the insides of the animal. Grabbing on to the boar’s heart the man pulls it tight and lifts the boar several inches from the ground. While blood is streaming along the flanks of the boar it shakes and spasms once more before it dies. Letting go of the boar the man wipes his forehead with his hand. His eyebrows protecting his eyes form the blood oozing from his forehead.
“Itone inja li adema”
I looked at life and I looked at death, both of them straight in the eye until only one answer remained, this is what I have chosen to be …..
-
My friends they have seen the moments where my concentration is failing, where I become absent minded and no longer am aware of what is going on around me. They say I speak words that have no meaning for them, neither for me when they repeat them. They have seen my eyes when only the whites remain, seen my head turn away and seem me return to the present.
I’ve turned towards the monks. Those that took care of me all these years while I was in a comatose state in His temple in Fort Llast. I have told them of what has transpired but they had no answers for the time being.
Last night Ulver was there by the fire when it happened again and we spoke about it some more. A good friend he is. He suggested to seek out a herb, a plant. Glove of fox, he did not know their location but he heard rumors that this plant slows down ones heart rate. A plant almost a dwarfs height and very rare, the flowers bearing different colors and difficult to discern from other poisonous plants and herbs. Although this doesn’t appear promising it might be used as a cure or at least something that can suppress the memory loss although I fear it will have some ill side effects. Nonetheless it might proof useful information for the monks.
I can’t go out and deal with this alone or linger to far with companions, it’s too risky for my friends and for others. Should they suffer injury in battle while I’m having a blackout I would not be able to forgive myself for not being able to protect when they required it.
-
Sometimes you look back onto your live and you see the journey that started the day you were born. A path leading from there, winding and instances where decisions had to be taken or where you were led. Your own strive and your beliefs as a guide along the way until your soul no longer bears the energy or when it just gives in. Than the Soul Mother will have won and you have lost for good.
I miss part of my life and it only started again a little while ago. Since then I do have my strive and a guide to light my path but without the memories of what went on before that. Am I still true to what I was before? True to myself, my friends, my God and the people?
My only wish is to protect the weak and stand up for the innocent without further ado and fortunes have little use for me. Sometimes I feel that this is too much to ask of myself when I see the world before me develop even without me acting upon it or able to control it’s temper. Often I'm insecure of my actions but still I act without question, I just know Toran will protect me, my soul ….. for now.
- - - - -
He wakes up and nothingness lingers for a while before he regains himself and prepares himself to get dressed. After he has washed his face with the fresh water from a bowl next to his bed his eyes wander to the table situated against the wall of his bedroom. On the table he sees his journal.
“That’s weird I’m sure I closed it and left it in the drawer last night”
Approaching the table he notices a loose sheet of paper sticking out from under his journal.
“Hmmmm”
He checks the door to his room ….. Locked ….. He checks the windows ….. Closed ….. Nothing in the room is disturbed accept for the linen covering his bed and his journal.
“Hmmmm? ….. Strange”
Returning to his journal he picks it up and notices the empty sheet underneath has been torn at one edge and that it is similar in color and structure to that from his journal. Riffling through the pages he notices one page is missing and torn from his journal. His hand reaches for the loose sheet still left on the table.
“This must be it than”
Picking it up and turning it around he notices something written on the back, a poem.
- - - - -
I met with the angel of darkness last night
She showed me the path into the light
Is she the first
To quench my thirst
Will she crucify my soul
Or rather take me whole
Here nailed to the wood
It gets me in the mood
I'm tired off living
Death at my door, dare I give in?
* A scribble underneath reads * Jass
- - - - -
While reading the poem he notices some of the letters are similar to his own handwriting.
“Hmmmmm?”
-
Hear him out, it didn’t make sense at first. Recommended by the healer but for what purpose besides to escort a group of merchants and keep a close watch on their lives. But I did it nonetheless, the healer he should know what this is about and I see no reason why I should question his judgment.
Once outside the temple tough another man approached me. He introduced himself as a friend of Mistone and asked me a small favor for Mistone. He informed me of this group of merchants and asked me to listen and to keep a close eye on their activities. Well I agreed probably some church business in this as well, has to be if the healer recommended me he must be involved one way or the other.
Anyway nothing spectacular happened on this mission except this druid maybe and some other thinks I’ve noted down so I don’t have to remember it all. Now I will wait for this mysterious friend to contact me again. Lets see if a little information will reveal a bid more of what he represents.
-
“This place so quiet, a place of tranquility”
Another voice.
“I guess this is what the druid wants to protect Ellendil”
Na~hani scoops his hand through the water and empties it into his mouth, next to him he sees his friend doing the same. The water in this place so cool and refreshing, the rustling of the waterfalls, the trees and the flowers radiant their colors and up there a fort overlooking the vale below. It really is a place of beauty a place where one can become one again with oneself and I’m glad I could take my friend to this location.
But it was not before another blackout occurred back at the caravan near Leilon that we head out to this special place. Again the blackout hit but this time, according to Ellendil, there was more. A high-pitched voice spoke from my lips and a woman’s voice taking over several times.
It was when I regained consciousness that we spend some time talking about what had happened. My friend left with an unpleasant feeling after the high-pitched voice had spoken to him. Shielded. Not worthy. Guarded by the energy. Wasting him would not bring much satisfaction and no pleasure since the entertainment provided would not be sufficient for them. Between the words the name of the women fell. Jasslin. Is it here that scribbled the note at the bottom of the poem I found ripped from my journal the other day? Besides the name and a major headache, as usual, more questions remained then we could answer. The feeling within us this time however changed.
After an hour the conversation came to an end and my friend showed again his love for nature and why he follows Folian with such determination. It made me realize that I had to take him to this place of beauty, this treasure hidden for many others. And we went.
Later, after we had scouted the area, we set up camp for the night and lighted a small campfire. The glow of the moon was already strong giving the water falling down from the waterfalls a silver color as it fed the silver pool of water below. After we enjoyed the nourishing meal Ellendil had prepared we added some logs to the fire, rearranged our belongings and prepared ourselves to go to sleep. The air was still full of life as, through the sound of falling water, the crickets sang their song and bats chased their prey avoiding objects in their flight. We felt the eyes looking from the shadows watching us going about near the fire but the peacefulness of this place reigned. Before our minds succumbed to our fatigue Ellendil thanked me for taking him there while I responded.
“I serve my friend”.
In my head I heard myself speak about the hope I have. The hope that I can receive His protection in return as I do receive yours my friend and this faith will help me for what will come while I trot my path.
-
I met him again. This time he wore no helmet and I was able to see some of his facial features. His dark brown eyes stern but honest and when he addressed me they peered straight into mine. On his left cheek I noticed several scars although his moustache was probably covering most of them from view. The skin covering his cheekbones and around the eyes showed the signs as if it had been exposed by the silt air of the sea most of his live. After we found a place where we could talk he introduced himself as Powell though I doubt whether this is truly his name.
We had some discussion and I wanted to go straight to what I thought of the matter but he kept it short. Facts there his interest lay, not some meaningless discussion about what might happen. Later though he softened his tone a little and allowed me some room to discuss my thoughts on the matter.
Afterwards he mentioned trust and that words can do more then swords and I believed him since these words are on my mind as well. However he also asked what my reaction would be if I was asked to go behind my friends back for the greater cause. Now I wonder, can I trust him? Why am I left with such a foul taste in my mouth? It feels like betraying what I believe in, Toran, my friends ….. then again is it really betrayal if it serves to safe peoples live. The thought revolving in my head over and over while looking at all possible angles. What should I answer?
* After rubbing his left hand with the other he picks up the short twig that lies besides him. Gripping it firmly he makes a rough drawing of a shield in the sand at his feet. Staring in the distance for several minutes before he races his hand through the sand leveling it in its wake. *
“Next time we meet I will ask him”
-
I had to bite my lip not to release my emotions. I heard him, he asked it, it was clear. He appeared concerned and vulnerable and requested our help, he was weak because of the loss of his friend. As a person I can protect him, offer him that much and I will do it since that is what Toran has given me when I was weak.
But why? Why does the pain surge through my hand each time the weave is mentioned? Why can I hardly control my emotions, did I smile without sincerity and did I hide behind my paladins to make the decision?
The weave. It only brings disaster. Look at the drow tapping from it and gaining the power off shadow. Why help now that the weave is weak and while Toran and Rofirein are at war. Maybe we have to keep it weak and let its influence on people diminish so that they can no longer gain power beyond their own. Power that more often then not will bring destruction and death and power that has the ability to corrupt minds.
I fail to understand a decision taken so lightly.
-
Through the land of danger
I knew the track of peace
A seed dorment it awoke
As blackout lashed again
Danger was all around
No longer was the peace
Red flowed amongst the green
While spirits fled the field
When one amongst others
Rahzon, Bidwick, Varda, Gier
My friends they held me on my feet
Exposed to arrow and steel
They stood without complaint
Knifes cutting with these thoughts
From where I failed my duty
And failed not only them
Now that I will set out again
Carry again your shield
To open a door into the past
I pray to you to keep my faith
With my mind free of obstruction
Let pain not be my companion
And let me not walk alone
Guide me the beacon for my soul
Let it spread its wings wide
Come cover me with light
My wish is for an angel
To take me by the hand
Before I fall before you
Aid me with each step
Wandering the trail of tears
On the path to salvation
* Unfolding his hands while he stares into the eyes of Toran's statue *
-
The air is covered with black clouds keeping most of the sunlight from reaching the earth below. Even though the day has just started it feels as if the night is approaching again. Between the trees in the forest up ahead the darkness rules and movement cannot be detected giving an atmosphere of peace. It is clear that autumn has tightened its reigns since yesterday. It was then that the wind was gently rustling through the withered leaves of a nearby birch but the thunderstorms had entered the land just when evening fell. Now increased in its strength the wind is howling through its empty branches.
Just before the rain came pouring down he found himself a place to rest a few meters away from the birch. There under a slab of rock he found a small place to hide himself from view and to keep him dry. The rain had doused the fire that was supposed to give him the warmth he required to make himself a meal and a little comfort for the night. But alas this could not be and his dinner merely consisted of a small piece of stale bread just enough to bring back the quiet in his belly. With that he fell asleep with his back against the rock and covered by his cloak.
~
I awake and it is still raining hard. I realise that the wind is pressing a piece of paper on my face. I take it away and see that it is torn along one edge and covered with scribbles and a few droplets of rain that are quickly soaked into the paper. I start to read although my mind is still clouded by the sleep that abruptly ended a few seconds before.
-----
The road tainted with lies and deceit, where it nears its end one has to do what one has to do. Go past the threshold and go further than what one is asked to do. The time when emotions run high, when one feels alone. Is alone. Left alone. Experience the pain while the world around is sleeping and closed its eyes to the mind that is awake at the deepest moments of the night. Twisting, turning on the questions when in the end only one answer remains.
We lived in a facade and a fantasy
A world created between you and me
Now that I open my eyes and I see
From now on it shall no longer be
What we once had now has been had
Where one off us, me, who was misled
And as I clean and sheath my blade
Your flesh left to rot covered by my shade
The skin tones slowly to the color of death
I patiently stand and watch until
Your lungs breathe their last breath
When all that is left, is left to die
And loneliness is all you have
Your death will save me
This is for you, I did it for you. Just, because ….. I care, my one, my Jasslin.
-----
From the first words onwards the ink on the page becomes thinner and slowly a red color is mixed with the black of the ink. The letters get bigger and bigger as the poem continues until the last sentence which is completely written in red. Again he finds that some of the letters are similar to his own handwriting, this time though the letters are no longer solitaire but forming words and pieces of sentences.
-
It’s been long, much happened but no time to document it. The lid on the past was lifted a little and now I know some more on the blackouts, the clan I was part off, the cult, the vampires, some day it has to be documented but not today.
Today I’m tormented by thoughts, thoughts of what I see happening in the world around me, thoughts that originate from the pain still surging through my hand at times, the blood, it is getting worse. From my hand two marks recently have disappeared but one remains. The blackouts still hanging over my head as a guillotine ready to strike at the moment Jasslin will be struck once more by another of those that call themselves heroes unaware of what they are doing to me.
The blackouts have made me weak, the loss of blood that often results from it. My muscles, my willpower no longer bear the strength to continue on the current path. Toran is leaving me, no longer protecting me from the curse. His focus is with His own battles taking place in the firmament far above and away from us. I tried to strengthen the faith in Him, the pilgrimage and the conversations with the villagers. But only few are interested, even among the heroes faith is of little interest. Their inability to show their faith will be the reason why I perish.
And still I have forfeited everything to live in His name. Forfeited the things that make life so much more bearable and what do I get in return, a curse and His hand no longer able or willing to protect me from it.
Quantum I’m sure he was sincere when he said he would help me, I saw his note in the Inn. It is what keeps me hanging on to the last straw, I don’t know if it is enough though.
There are a few other faithful around. My old friends, I can still rely on them, and several new ones. They speak words and of actions, it doesn’t help at all, I don’t see the things changing.
Will death bring me what I desire, will it take that what burns inside.
Some blood spills from under his fingernails and smothers the page. He puts the quill down and picks up his cloak. Tightly wrapping it around him after which he briefly shimmers before blending into the surroundings. It doesn’t take long before the sound of the quill on paper continues.
-
Typical. They kill, they are killed, they take from the dead often losing part of their soul if they don’t succeed, wealth and possessions is what most care about with no regard for the population or the Gods. What good does it bring? Heroes that serve the Gods of death, of greed and of foul play instead of the Gods that grant them this life, this earth. What will be required to open there eyes, when will they see what I see, feel how I feel?
Instead they continue in a comfortable and well-known pattern, the circle that will never end, why should they worry. Indifference? Ignorance? I wonder when the circle will grow weak and no longer serve them, when will it break and unfold itself into a straight line. Did it start already, the beginning that will end it all, not only them, all?
Do they care? Should I care? Why? Should I seek death, greed and indifference now as they do so that it can grant me eternal life now. Or should I continue to seek life and live this tormented life until the end and enjoy eternal life later? Who can tell me the price that has to be paid for either option?
My curse may well be my blessing and my salvation once, if ever, I admit my failure to Him and serve another. It can be the coin that I should keep in order to pass over the last bridge spanning the eternal abyss. Heads or tails which side to I show to the One waiting on the other side? The One who will open the door to beyond so I can enter eternity.
-
Could it be things are changing and that I just don’t see it, or don’t want to see it?
It’s been several weeks now and the blackouts have not struck again. I’m regaining some of my strength, the curse seems to be weakening, the pain and blood loss are still there reminding me of it though. Jasslin, she must be recovering as well. With here lust for blood growing and here weakness sliding away I wonder when she will attempt to strike again.
Quantum called me once more and we ended up in the temple in Pranzis. The Healer there referred to me as the tainted one, I don’t know if that is a name I would prefer but at least he showed his concern regarding my curse. It seems there are still people that want to offer me their support and rid me of this curse, more then I realize.
I noticed the surprise on Quantum’s face when the healer told us an undead huntress by the name of Cal is already on Mistone looking into the whereabouts of the last of the III. She is the one who raised Quantum in the ways of Toran and His hunters and she may have gathered some valuable information concerning all of this.
It’s one of those little things that have made me see another light past few weeks. Small things like Storold talking about his magic and the ability it has to corrupt a mind, the reason why I often frown upon magic myself. Small things.
And then this dreamed I had this morning, this time a pleasant one. It still lingers in my mind and it will take me through another day I’m sure of that. I can’t remember how much time has past since I had my last one without the curse and the pain waiting for me when I awoke.
In this dream I see a man and a woman somewhere along the coast spending some time there with their children. From where they are, high above sea level, they have a spectacular view over the ocean. Water as far as the eye can see. Heavy rollers are breaking on the cliffs and seagulls are darting around each other while skirmishing for the fish a fishers boat left behind and frigate birds constantly preying on their catch.
The shadow of a nearby tree covers the family from the sun burning from a clear sky and a gentle breeze is blowing through their hair. Around them the two children, a boy and a girl, are running completely occupied by their game. Every now and then the man gestures to the children to come closer and they shared some food and a drink.
After some time the man mingles in their play. Cuddling the children, teasing them and preventing them from falling on the rocks strewn across the surface while they climb all over him. The woman is observing it all while she bears a smile on here face.
Slowly the thundering sound of the sea below takes me away from them and slowly I awoke from my dream.
But these small lights are still shrouded in a thick mist.
I still see the monsters gathering in the caves, the ogres and other rabble expanding their hold over the Sielwood forest and beyond, the undead in places that were recently safe and the many thieves picking on the unexpected traveller. I see it changing and it is moving, moving closer to Hlint. It just a matter of time before the Gods will loose their grip on this world and things will change for good. Toran is this why You saved me from death? I’m suffering each day and in the end I will die without any light in this world to comfort my death. Or am I here to test the faith of those that aspire membership of the Shining Hand. A pawn in a game offered when it has served its purpose.
The two sides of the coin. Continue to believe what I was taught to believe or loose it all and start anew. Both leading to salvation of my inward conflict. Choose risk or certainty. My own decision.
/I’m not the greatest of writers and have difficulty putting thoughts on paper but I hope these last entries have made clear the internal battle Na is currently fighting.
-
Kurgaz .. Geir .. they recognized me as I strolled through Hlint the other day.
Today I dye my robe .. put on another glove to cover my healthy hand .. covering myself .. not an easy choice to hide from friends and those that stand by me .. Soon I may need their aid once more.
The chain swings again .. gently .. left to right .. vibrating as tension rises ..shackles twist and grind together .. where peace rained pain surges through me once more.
Swallows once flew free .. now I’m one of the lost ones .. they call me tainted, the one without a name .. now walk with me the path .. reveal to me my true name .. keep within my honest heart .. touch me with your love .. or let the call be answered by the past once more.
-
Death is whispering in my ear but when will I see. Walking in dreams sleepwalking with the battered and the fallen. Losing it all when there is so much to gain. Anger, it rages within. Clenching my fists my head throbbing with pain as sweat and blood drop on the pages below forming wrinkles on erratic lines. Scratching from left to right, arching from top to bottom. I cannot stop, I must give in to that what is inside of me, uncontrolled the pencil continues to make its marks. Drawings of a sunset and falling snow forming a blanker on the ground, an outline of a shield. As easily as it was created it is crossed out again. Madness it continues until I lose myself again to the blackout.
Moments later I awake, slumbering as I feel a tongue licking my face. While the tip of the tongue momentarily rests on the tip of my nose a drop of saliva follows the curves of my cheekbone before finally dropping to the ground. Opening my eyes they stare right into the eyes of an animal. Both of us are taken by surprise and I role away while the animal takes a step back. It’s when I realize it is the wolf again that has awoken me, the wolf that was there when I wrote a letter to one of my dearest friends. One eye yellow, one eye greyed, he probably protected me while I lay lame on the ground in the middle of an open patch in the Broken Forest, there where sunlight cannot penetrate. What is the wolf trying to tell me, if anything? Something about my blackouts, my past or the result of my friend praying for me to be safe?
I notice my journal in my hand but my mind is still clouded, my muscles still weak but with the last of my strength I force myself to focus on what is there on the page. I see the drawings that are crossed out, it all doesn’t make sense until I see words appearing from under it. Or are they written on top?
Roses are red,
the Moon is white
Naked and hesitant you await
will love be yours tonight?
A flicker in moon rays
such a beautiful sight
Close to your body
lips dark cherry red
wet kiss on your stomach
sends shivers along the spine
Feelings as a butterfly
compare it to heaven
Velvet ribbons dangle
and darkness fills your eyes
your last dream just ended
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Blood flushes you empty inside
Die knowing being loved was true
-
I sit with my back against a tree holding the broken part of the ruby in my left hand, the ruby that protected me from Jasslin’s soul instead of forcing mine out. The tattoo of the III is gone and a scar is all what remains as remembrance of what I, and others, have gone through. I am now free, released from the past. The chain that tore me apart for so long .. gone, the shackles torturing me .. broken. The hunger of the III found its end. My friends they have taken me through this, Toran, without them I would have been lost long ago together we prevailed, after so long I can see that now. But with what I’m left. The feeling, the gratitude, that I experience on my own, nothing can compare with that.
~
There was snow falling most of the day but now the wind has torn the thick clouds to threads, blazing while they reflect the colour of the setting sun. Still small snowflakes trickle down from above radiating the orange glow they have captured within. The spectacle, the orange curtain, ends abruptly just before they join the white blanket covering the grounds around me.
As snowflakes fall on my exposed skin cold collides with the warmth from within and with it shivers run through my body. With the blink of an eye the flakes melt and the resulting droplets of water follow the contours of my arm towards my left hand before dripping form the ruby onto the ground. After a while the water is mixed with the last blood left on my hand. When it flows over the broken ruby however the red colour is absorbed leaving a clear and pure droplet falling on the ground.
A droplet touches the snow, shattering upon impact. From this point colours erupt in ever widening circles, colours of the rainbow and I’m sitting in the centre of it all. Soon below my hand the blanket of snow is breaking open and a plant appears. It continues to grow until it blossoms into a blue lotus, the delicate leafs of the flower enveloping the point of the gem I hold in my hand. Soon after multiple plants appear, daisies, butterfly’s, tulips .. every plant and every colour you can imagine.
In the distance I see Quantum, a white light is surrounding him, the light of the shining hand. And there the wolf, both bearing a grin as if smiling.
Blackouts into dreams again.
It doesn’t change what is happening around me but I now know I don’t have to face if alone, maybe I never did as there was always something behind me. The tongue that sang its song, the song that resonates in my ears, even now.