~Is it possible to truly consider another human being? Is it possible to see as person, completely as they are to themselves? Or is this arrogance??
Is it possible to speak so much of oneself, that someone else can see? Or is this weakness?? Wandering thoughts, chaotic but never random. From here
to there, I wander far, but ever do I gamble: what fate may tell, we shall see, surely, what she does to me. This wanderlust I call writing, the wager
is my mind, I give myself to the page and reveal to you what she tells me. One word at a time, as far as you go, fate will speak to you as she does to
me: "when you open your mind, I will be there. When you let go of your hands I will speak. Just write, just keep going and I will tell you a tale you
never knew you were waiting for~
And so we had set off, and after a few moments the grandeur and resplendance I had felt faded out into a certain calm weight of possibility."You must
remember one thing daelim: this is the time for action, and it is harvest season, so plant what you can and watch it grow" She spoke to me quietly to
where only I could hear. "The time for writing, and writing only, is over. Your pen is a sword now, because while the pen is for reconciliation, or
preparation, Commanding or greeting or enquiring; a blade is what a man lives by when he has his own life in his hands, and when he stands in the
place of others. He is a warrior: a man Of action and he lives and dies by his blade, with honour and satisfaction, fighting to preserve or gain
something for his people.
Before, you were a warrior of words, and words alone, so you could give yourself a voice when you had none, and so you could experience the
frustration of not being able to align yourself with light. Now, though, is the time for action, for momentuous action. Action brings danger, though:
the possibility of failure, as well as resistance.
Who his people are, and how much he does for himself, and the amount of gain and in what way; and what he actually accomplishes determines whether he
is called a hero.You, dealim, you have tried, and tried, and tried, to be your own hero. The very same reason others have condemned you, is why I
crown you: You fail to live up to yourself because you need others to give you meaning, to spur you. You help others without a thought, and just as
easily give voice to inspiration, but just as importantly you give voice to despair. In any other relationship, one who requires others for his
success is doomed to failure, but there is one position in which it is required: the position of a king to his people. That shame, you hold? That will
be your honour. Those ideals you have held so painfully, at so great a cost to your happiness and comfort? Those are your bread, by which you live and
At her words, tears well up in my eyes. She had spoken in my chest, though she was still conversing with the other fairy. I saw haymirk pretend like
he didn't see me crying, but I wouldn't have cared if the whole world had seen. It felt weird, it was sadness but not any sadness I had ever known, it
was the sadness of healing, of life. Haymirk knew that it must be between daelim and amavril, and so he didn't press daelim for details. Not that it
would have done him any good, of course, but still. *draw the blade~ Amavrils voice strikes me with physical force. A command, yet one I follow
because my heart knew it's call and rose to answer. Seamlessly, I drew the blade slowly, revealing inch after inch of carefully folded steel.
The blades ripples were, of course, for show, as this blade had never so much as seen a forge, and yet, however perfectly it was crafted, it was still
within the realm of human possibility to create, even if only barely so. As I drew the blade, it felt right in my hands. It seemed to almost hum with
energy, and I could've groaned thinking it was alive, too. But, no... That was My energy in there.
Thankfully, while I was so occupied, haymirk was still keeping watch, and with a touch of his hand I grow alert. It didn't take me long to spot the
source of disturbance, but it took me longer to comprehend it. Seeing my confusion, Haymirk says "what, you didn't think the sword was for show, did
you? " Even as he drew his own. Well, now that he mentioned it I guess it was kind of naive to think that magic and faeries would come without
anything darker nipping at their heels.
Perhaps now is the best time to tell you what it was that we saw. See, it was something nightmarish straight out of a children's fairy tale. ~get used
to it~ I felt amavril say wryly. This monster- for it was undoubtedly a monster- was like a skin of darkness. It wasn't so much a patch of darkness so
much as it seemed to absorb light, even making the sunlight fade. It turned hollow white eyes upon us and grinned wretchedly, flesh caught in it's
teeth and blood bubbling from between the gaps. Rising from the corpse it was feeding upon it turned to face us. It must have affected my mind because
in that instant the distance between us and it stretched and stretched and then suddenly it was right there. It felt cold, and dark, hollow anger and
misery, a sick twisted cruel satisfaction turned firstly upon itself. My heart twisted, not in anger, but in empathy- for this, even this. It seemed
intent upon leeching off of my very soul- for in the darkness emanating from it it had separated me from Haymirk, and even tied my feet in place. It
advanced slowly upon me, sure of its fate.
To be sure it was a visceral sight, hitting upon the fear of the dark and unkown danger, and the monster emanated waves of horror. I really can't say
what it was in me that withstood the furious mental assault-unbeknownst to me haymirk was driven to his knees. All I knew was a certain soft resolve-
I felt pity for this creature but could not let it live. I felt amavril behind me, clutching my shoulders- not borrowing from my strength, but rather
lending me hers.
I raised my sword arm and flexed my offhand like amavril told me too, and from my arm sprouted a shield out of what looked like paper. I grinned, for
I had often joked to myself about being a knight of pen and paper. It was the monsters turn to falter, faced with the sight of this small, crazy man
standing unafraid and with a ridiculous grin. Then it lunged, super quick, but it seemed to me as if everything slowed down. I ducked under the first
slash of its arm and met the second slash with my shield even as I rammed my blade into it's stomach. The force of its blow sent me spinning, but with
amavril with me my feet knew exactly where to place themselves and I turned the whirl into a furious slash which chopped off the things head, but not
before its own claws were able to sink into me. Even still, as I made the finishing blow I heard amavril warble furiously. The thing fell onto the
ground and dissipated bit by bit into fragments of light which drifted on the wind as haymirk rose. He looked awed and apologetic at the same
edit on 13-5-2017 by LucidWarrior because: Grammar!