Rewritten Prologue

They say writing is rewriting, no? This evening I placed myself upon this path. Once again, my main project is getting some attention. The first prologue I wrote for Nivitera’s Promise can be found here. This current blog is a rewrite of that. Is it better? Is it worse? I am honestly not sure. I suppose it is up to the audience to decide that. Enjoy!

NOTE: Not proofread.


Darkness lay draped across the landscape. Prominent was winter’s embrace. Leafless trees and frost covered pines swayed alike upon the frigid wind. The ground below remained frozen beneath a sheet of white. Among a million distant stars hung a single, pale blue moon. The moonlight provoked a masquerade of gentleness. Silence enhanced its charade; creating the illusion of calm and wellbeing within this world.

A lone wolf treaded through the snow; dashing ever onward. Four strong paws carried him with ease. His pelt equaled a night sky; one devoid of stars or moons. It rippled beneath a thin aura of white and pale blue hues. Gleaming as bright as the moon, a star-shaped stone sat within a ring of gold that encased a toe on his front left paw. A pair of determined eyes stared ahead; unblinking. The right held the blue of a summer evening while the left seemed reminiscent of this wolf’s only companion; the moon. Smooth as liquid he moved; flowing from one form into the next to carry himself apace. The encasing of blue and white cascaded about him in faultless concord with his being. With mind and stride solid as stone, he pushed himself forward.

A fortress of dark-grey stonework loomed in the distance. Four towers reached higher than ancient trees. The fifth tower, located in the very heart of the fortress, reached to the heavens and surpassed the blanket of stars; merging with the darkness itself. Two outer walls of lesser significance fortified the structure’s defenses.

Anxiety and instinct intensified within the black wolf as he surged forward; eyes fixed upon the massive structure. Adrenaline wormed its way through his system; accelerating his movements. His nostrils flared as a familiar scent found him. This scent had driven his departure from him. This scent had pushed him to run for days. This scent made him lust for blood. This scent drove him mad.

As the amount of surrounding trees thinned, the true size of the fortress became evident. Beyond the titanic walls that stretched to either side beyond the wolf’s sight, the keep itself was both gargantuan and herculean. Its massive size and architectural design served to attenuate any who desired to besiege it. It portended evil and harm, yet the wolf discarded any admonishing feelings. Every beat of his heart pushed him forward until he reached the first barrier between him and his target.

With complete mitigation for his own wellbeing, he hurdled toward the obstruction of bricks. The whiteness of his jaws glittered in the light of the pale moon as he parted his fangs and released a growl from deep within his throat. The thin aura of white and blue grew in size around him and surrounded him in a thick whirlwind that whipped his ears about and tore at his fur.

A thud, a crack and finally a complete burst announced that a hole now existed within the stone wall. Dust drifted through the air and sought its way earthwards; the remnants of the obsidian wolf’s dilapidation. The beast ran onwards; conviction in both eyes. Fortitude existed within every inch of the wind-enveloped creature as he leaped forward and crushed a portion of the second bulwark. The colossal edifice remained.

While the dust dwindled about around him, the wolf gathered himself and studied his surroundings meticulously. Beneath him, an expanse of snow-covered grass climbed a steady incline to the location of the fort. A handful of trees stood scattered about in a natural fashion. The sharp peaks of rocks displayed themselves above the frosty blanket. Wind was naught due to the loftiness of the fortifications. What air remained smelled faintly of pine wood. Thick as honey remained the smell of the wolf’s target. His hunt was upon its closure. Hope he held for a positive denouement.

 While vigilant, the wolf ran. His paws consumed several meters in seconds; closing the distance between himself and his objective. Every pulse within him drove him onwards; sending renewed vitality into his blood stream. His teeth remained ajar and the wind around him remained vast; its potency evident from the acceleration it gifted to the wolf within its midst.

Darting by trees and jumping over rocks with seeming ease, the wolf hastened until he reached what had lured him. The deep grey rock of the building seemed darker than shadow though it was not. The four outer turrets seemed to reach higher than the moon, while the summit of the final tower penetrated the starlit ceiling itself and stretched beyond. Granite constructed the entirety of the building. Following along it, the wolf ran while his eyes flicked from side to side in a desperate attempt to find a method of entry.

In the distance, a thin line of golden light extended from the fortress and stretched across the snow. With conspicuous excitement, the wolf leaped forward; eyes glued to the phenomenon. Within several seconds, he discovered the source. Two large, wooden doors that stood taller than two men, allowed a slim strip of light to pass outward. A disesteemed expression gripped the wolf’s face as he stood before the massive objects. The aura of wind around him hissed with contempt before lashing forward like hungry flames and ramming into the doors.

A creak sounded. A clang followed. The doors became undone. A second wind erupted from the wolf as he stood snarling. As if light as paper, the doors swung inwards and hit the walls beyond with an audible bang. The opulent interior revealed itself.

Carpets of lavish red lay draped across the polished marble floors. Extensive abstract designs had been woven into the rugs. The pale white walls shimmered. Large pillars sat at regular intervals within the corridors to support the massiveness of the structure. Large, exaggerated paintings hung from the walls. The images depicted wars of the past or great heroes. Valor was evident upon all their faces. Fire-breathing dragons were seen fighting legions of men and women. Dramatized displays of magics defeated entire armies. These were the stories of old.

Flames that drifted above bright red stones which had been set into the walls lit the corridors. Where carpets did not lay, extensive floor work was equally impressive. Mosaics depicted the sun and the movement of the moons. Entire constellations found representations beneath the feet of those who wandered these halls.

Few they were, the wolf knew. Aside from himself, the halls were empty and silence reigned. Far beyond, the distant howl of the natural wind howled.

His own winds subsided as he pointed his nose downward and sought for an ever-familiar smell. Race did his heart. Every beat equaled a heavy drum within his chest. He was close. The sensation dwelled within every bone and every nerve.

Her scent filled him; surprisingly floral yet sharp. Upon finding the odor within his nostrils, he instantaneously moved. Appetence filled him and his instinct thrived. Blood, thirst, craving; boundless sensations occupied his heart and mind. Desires tyrannized logic. Sense scattered.

The scent intensified and drew the wolf through empty corridors with an august appearance until he reached a pair of elaborately carved wooden doors. Countless animals sat upon the polished wood and golden handles held the room shut.

It took but one leap.

Bolstered by the power of air, the wolf flung himself headfirst in the direction of the doors. Clattering, creaking and cracking sounds echoed throughout the corridor as the doors shattered and pieces of wood of various sizes were flung about in a chaotic manner. The hinges rattled where they sat from the impact while nails rolled across the floor and the golden knobs became buried underneath the heavy wood splinters.

Inward he walked; across the bed of rubble below his feet. His eyes never moved from what he observed within. Paces deliberate yet measured, the wolf moved toward her.

A chamber, generous in size, presented itself. Arsenic green marble floors gleamed. An extensive of bright maroon stretched from the entrance to the opposing end of the room where an elevated platform had been built. Walls of cool grey marble were covered in elaborate tapestries of vibrant hues. From the ceiling hung a multitude of chandeliers made entirely made of gold and silver. The collection hung upon the vivid carpet below. Dazzling white light emanated from them and caused the gemstones within the ceiling to glitter. Emeralds, sapphires, rubies and amethyst sparkled in unison.

Upon the raised platform stood a single chair as elaborate as a throne and taller than any man. The object seemed to be constructed from nothing but silver or a likewise metal. The legs of the object curved like snakes and were inlaid with precious gems akin to diamonds. The back, seat and manchette were covered in cushioning across which lay fabrics of electric violet with lilac floral patterns interwoven into the fabric. Upon the cresting rail rested three crowns; all of gold. The first seemed to be inlaid with clear blue apatite and aquamarines. The second held several citrines and garnets. The final crown was decorated with lapis lazuli and opals.

The elaborate cathedra held an occupied. A woman sat upon it with an unusually relaxed air about her. Thick, raven-black hair hung behind her to the ends of her shoulder blades. They cascaded and framed her pale, refined face. Perceptive, cat-like eyes watched the world with large pupils that swam within clouds of grey. Long black lashes framed her eyes; curling elegantly upwards. Thin, perfectly symmetrical brows sat above her twin storms. A slim nose sat above thin, pink lips. A choker around her slender neck, displayed a gemstone that glowed. The colors within seemed to be fluid as they changed, swayed and moved of its own accord. The object cast a ring of soft, colorful light upon the woman’s skin.

Her shoulders, round and high, remained bare; displaying countless square inches of bare skin. Her upper arms remained alike. Slender, black gloves extended from elbows to her hands, where the fabric wrapped only around her thumb but left the remainder of her fingers bare. Small obsidians decorated the backs of these gloves. A tunic of warm grey clung to her hourglass figure. Onyxes and obsidians lined the sweetheart neckline. A black leather belt wrapped around her waist. From it hung countless knives of various sizes and proportions. Their bare blades swayed as she moved. Her lengthy, thin legs, that extended from her wide hips were clad in black leggings and extended into black leather boots that held a wide heel.

A virtuous smile held her lips and her eyes gleamed with interest. “Well then.” she spoke, her melodic voice carrying throughout the entire chamber. Its warmth eclipsed the summer sun.

The wolf remained silent as he strode forward; jaws bared and eyes ablaze with hatred.

Drawing a finger to her lips, the woman made herself look thoughtful. “It seems you have made a spectacle of destroying my residence, hmm?” she hummed sweetly.

The wolf halted after having crossed half the distance to her. His eyes of opposing blue watched her attentively. In doing so, his pupils never left and his lids never blinked. From deep within his throat one word came in a deep rumble. It struck not the walls but was audible to the woman’s ears nonetheless. “Licia.”

She remained smiling as she gave him an affirmative nod. Her formerly upraised hand she placed back upon the arm rest; returning to her gracious demeanor. “And whom might you be?” she inquired.

The wolf’s tone was precarious as he replied, “You ask the name of your murderer?”

Licia tilted her head curiously before she answered, “There is that chance.” Her smile widened and she laughed; a cold giggle echoed throughout the room. As abruptly as its inception, the sound died away as the grey eyes rolled and found an unexpected object. “My, my.” she hummed while tapping the fingers of her left hand atop the armrest of her chair. The motion was soundless. “I did not think I would be blessed with an audience such as yourself.” she pronounced with a serious expression.

The wolf clasped down his teeth in a sharp chomp. “My status has little to do with my objective. I may hold the Wind Sword yet your blood might still spill for me, Licia the Black.” he growled.

With a soft click of the heel of her boot being placed beside the other, Licia uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet. “You amuse me.” she stated. “As do many of your brethren. I knew one such as you. A kind soul he was.” she explained as she stepped down from the raised plateau.

“How a wretched being such as yourself obtained friendship is a mysterious occurrence; likewise, is that you obtained Vi’s favor.” Still growling, the wolf sank deeper through his legs. The current of winds around him moved more sporadically as his mood shifted to an intense state.

“Hmm.” Licia hummed, “Do you object?”

“The world does.” the black wolf replied with a violent snarl.

The comment caused the woman to roll her eyes, seeming to be miffed. Whilst taking a step nearer to her opponent, the woman raised up both her hands and connected her first two fingers with her thumb before moving both towards the crystal at her throat. Upon her fingers connected with the surface of the glowing object, the colorful light found itself substituted. For the duration of a second, the light was white and staggering. As the illumination faded, Licia drew forth two objects.

In each hand, she held a rapier of a brilliant steel that held impeccable luster. The pommels were a deep black while the handles seemed white beneath her hands. The guards of both held a reflective brilliance to them; causing the ceiling lights to dance upon them. The crossbar seemed to hold a bronze sheen to it. The blade itself, from the ricasso to the debole held resemblance to silver intermingled with white gold. What made the swords remarkably however, was the glaze of transparent color that lay over each. This enamel created of nothing but energy acted in the same way as its source. Colors swam and swirled; ever-changing and undefinable. These thin, intangible layers cast no light but demanded attention of no lesser scale than the gem that had created it was due. At the very tip of each blade sat a tiny sparkle; unseen when the blades were still in the air, but flaring up as the blade moved; its intensity emphasized by the speed of action.

Licia’s smile returned to her as she raised her blades appropriately. “Now then.” she proceeded in a lukewarm tone. “We shall dance with destiny, Wind Wolf.”

Winds lashed about and blades glinted with every movement. The snow remained beyond. The moon was still full. The wind howled and the trees continue to sway. Morning would still come yet one less life would find it alive. Tonight, blood was spilled but it belonged to one and one alone.


Gifting on Valentine’s

This past Wednesday, it was the 14th of February, as your calendar may have indicated. It was the day of hearts, cards and chocolates. I only got a few emoji versions of the first. Yet again, I had no cards or chocolates to enjoy. What I did however enjoy was my day off from classes and the company of my pseudo-Valentine; kind of so and kind of no.

A long-distance romance doesn’t offer much though aside from company. Unless you are called Tristin and decide that that is not enough. I made my Valentine a personalized gift.

Color cats with background and heart

I spent quite some time drawing it. I forgot the time and also my homework. I had also intended to write a post for Friday but failed quite extraordinarily. Thusly, I am sticking with this off-topic and artsy post instead and I’m leaving it at that. Wednesday’s post is already scheduled so no worries there.

Have a nice weekend and may destiny be kind to you!

Poem; Would You?

Dear internet inhabitants and search engines,

It has been a while, has it not? Or rather it seems so because of all the holidays that lay in between. But I started out my year well, if you care to know. And on this very day, the 3rd of the new year, I wrote a little poem. It might be the first of the year and it might also be the last. We will see. I hope you shall all enjoy and may destiny once more be kind to you.

Would You?

If I was the moon, drifting among the dark
Would you follow me?
If I was the moon, drifting into dark itself
Would you still follow me?

If I was a star, falling down to earth
Would you come to find me?
If I was a star, fallen into a place of harm
Would you still come to find me?

If I was a flower, blooming during spring
Would you admire me?
If I was a flower, broken and withered
Would you still admire me?

If I was a cloud, white and adrift
Would you welcome me?
If I was a cloud, grey and upsetting
Would you still welcome me?

If I was a flame, a source of gentle warmth
Would you be near me?
If I was a flame, destructive and relentless
Would you still be near me?

If I was an arrow, straight and strong
Would you trust in me?
If I was an arrow, broken and fractured
Would you still trust in me?

If I was the wind, a gentle breeze in summer
Would you listen to me?
If I was the wind, howling at night in winter
Would you still listen to me?

If I was a heart, open to the world
Would you dare love me?
If I was a heart, bleeding crimson drops
Would you still dare love me?

Would you hold, would you keep?
Would you shelter, would you let weep?
Would you warm, would you let sleep?
Would you all these things, if I was less than me?

D&D; My character; Loyn Yscalia

Lately (say, the past few months), I have been getting into Dungeons and Dragons; a popular pen-and-paper role playing game that has taken the world by storm probably for more years than I have been alive for. Anyway, a friend of mine mentioned that he wanted to the be the Dungeon Master (the person who makes up the world and story, basically) and myself and my bestie were eager to participate so we jumped on it. Evidently, as a consequence, I/we have been composing our characters. I myself, being a storyteller at heart and an aspiring author, have constructed an elaborate backstory for my character. And for your amusement (and mine) I will write it here. This is the brief version. I have considered writing it into a short story or short novel just for fun.

NOTE: Until further notice, the character my friend plays will be called Yui.

Loyn’s backstory

The story of Loyn Yscalia starts with the story of his Elven mother; Aritima Yscalia. As the daughter of traveling merchants, she saw much of the world and became adventurous in doing so. Her curiosity towards other races that she met made her wise and tolerant; a loving heart developed within her.

One uncertain day, Aritima found that loving heart within the hands of a human man whom she had only briefly encountered within a city where her traveling family stopped for the time. Her natural beauty grasped the man and his otherworldly nature gripped Aritima. Over the span of approximately one week, the two grasped any chance to be with one another; both discovering the meaning of true love.

The pleasantries were torn away when Aritima’s family continued on their journeys. Heartbroken and unwilling to forget him, Aritima felt different than she had before. Shortly after, she discovered that she was with child. Confessing to her parents, they suggested she find a husband so to provide well for her child as well as to allow the unborn baby inheritance.

Though reluctant to follow their suggestion, Aritima’s conscience understood the benefits. Through mere chance, she met lord Ferralyn Affearsc; a young, attractive lord who seemed to have good intentions. After a brief courtship, the two married. Aritima, sensing the love in her new husband’s heart, confessed to the existence of her unborn child and even admitted to the baby being the offspring of a human man. Though shocked, Lord Ferralyn promised her and her child safety within his home.

Upon Loyn’s birth, his stepfather adopted the child in a manner that he was allowed to use the lord’s name for any gains he might need in life yet he was denied the succession and inheritance. As Loyn grew up, and three daughters came after him, he began to notice that he was indeed different from the rest of his family. Openly his mother had explained to him of his father; admitting to Loyn that she had loved the man very much. Yet Loyn knew that his father’s bloodline would cause him to be an outcast within his family.

His stepfather grew ever more cold towards him, as he began to realize that his dear wife did not speak of him in the way that she spoke of Loyn’s father. Still, he remained confident that she would some day grow to love him in the same way. Besides that, she was still rather beautiful and thus pleasant to his eyes and thus he kept her and the child around. He knew that, should he send Loyn away, he would lose his wife as well.

Loyn himself often suffered the scornful remarks and actions of his sisters; the eldest of which seemed to despise him for his very existence; mocking him for being in a place where he should not be. Meanwhile, being bored of his noble life and not being stimulated by studies and other methods that nobility require of their children, Loyn took up the art of the sword. Elves, being skilled masters in the art of swordsmanship, schooled him to near excellence; making him an exceptional product of their making.

Still, Loyn’s stepfather remained resentful and cold. Therefore, Loyn often took the woods; enjoying rides in the forests around his family’s estates. One day, he encountered a young elven spellcaster; alone and on the run. She told him that she was on her own; having ran from an arranged marriage she did not agree with and that she would accept any help he could give her. Empathizing with the elven caster, Loyn offered her refuge at his family’s home for any amount of days she required.

While she remained with his family, she told him of herself. Her name was Yui and she had been raised in lands far from civilization. An arranged marriage for peace between tribes had thrown her life into turmoil however and she had decided to flee. Loyn recognized that, she, like him, was an outcast of her own family.

Upon the day Yui decided to depart and continue her search for fortune elsewhere, Loyn decided to join the elf. He decided that, in coming with her and protecting her with his blades, he gained a purpose in life. After saying his farewells to his mother, Loyn gathered what few belongings he valued and departed into the forest beyond the Affearsc mansion; forever heading forward and never looking back. Since then, he has embarked on his journey with Yui; protecting her and accompanying her and in doing so, finally feeling valued.

Nowadays, if not necessary to be done otherwise, Loyn identifies himself with his mother’s name of Yscalia. She was, after all, the only one who ever loved him until Yui set him free.


Time sure flies on by! I’m already halfway through my second semester of my first year of university. On that note; I am still enjoying it. I have learned a lot, met new people and gained understanding about who I am as well.

It has also been about a year since I started working on a game. The first few cards have been created. Here I have assembled a few different ones. Does it look appealing?


I’m still not sure what to call this game but I might call it something that relates to the word ‘destiny’ since it is something I am prone to using on this blog.

Caeirys (Prologue)

Several weeks ago, I experienced a dream that was as lively as they could be. The colors were bright and the places seemed real (although not familiar). The dream stuck with me for such a long while because of its amazing storyline, that I decided to write it; with a few additions here and there to spice it up. For example, the whole start of the story is made up. There were no ‘catowls’ in my dream (you will see what they are below). The woman that is spoken of below had a few different attributes but she was there. The golden dragon did not appear in my dream. Nonetheless; feel free to read on if you want a high fantasy story to enjoy. This is only the prologue so far.

Consider this a Christmas present, if you wish to. Thus; happy holidays and I hope you will enjoy this creation of mine.

Note: Caeirys is only the working title.


In ancient tales, people spoke of creatures upon wings mightier than those of the strongest hunting birds. The might within claw and fang unmatched by any human sword. Courage and wisdom both untamed and illogical to simple minds of mankind. They became rulers. These kings and queens of their respectable realms were without throne and crown. They needed not royal gemstones to emphasize their place in the world. Their reigns were evident through their unwavering might. Their benevolence remained upon the tongue of many for centuries after. Names echoed within songs and were immortalized upon parchment. Mankind spoke of the dragons.

One such queen was what scholars would later refer to as a ‘Great Red’; a dragon of crimson scales and impeccable majesty. Her brilliance was unmatched by stars and the sun. She was a drop of vital essence against the daylight sky and a speck of mystery within the moon’s domain. A spectacular wingspan provided a canvas for dreams of the young and innocent to be painted upon. They saw patterns within them that inspired their feeble hearts. Caressing light as dim as clouded skies danced upon her scales. Countless small plates of armor covered her fearsome body in a coat of tiny shards that seemed to have descended from deadly roses themselves. Her horns and talons seemed to have been carved from a delicate stone of rosewood pigments and finely shaped by divine smiths. They were both fatal weapons as well as impeccable treasures for her physique. Beneath her tender lids lay bright irises of emerald hue within which existed a large black pupil that shone with wisdom and pride. This splendid collection of superior attributes made her an extraordinary specimen of her own species. She bore the name Caeirys; meaning ‘clarity of the sunrise’.

From her early age onwards, Caeirys placed her name within the minds of those she encountered and within the minds of those who heard tale of her ventures across the vast landscape. Throughout all her endeavors she remained true to both her titles. She was forever a Great Red but also a symbol of the rising sun. The allure of her legends was strong and never ceased after her final sighting.

Her tale begins with the flight of a lone dragon during a fall evening. This creature was armored in gold and covered in silver embellishment. Equally impressive were his talons within which he carried a red object. The oval object glowed with a soft intensity before dimming again. It was a slow pattern that seemed soothing. However the dragon carrying the soothing object felt not this way. In his heart he felt worry and a need for haste. His journey destined him for a large tower that stood within an abandoned valley. Few roamed to these reaches. Little was to be gained here. A mission that weighted on this dragon’s aged mind however had pushed him to pursue the destination.

Against a backdrop of golden and red abstractions he could see the looming tower. It’s grey walls were covered in an orange glow from the setting sun. He could feel the warmth of the large star upon his scales. It made him feel calmer yet also more persistent. He flapped his wings vigorously before gliding. The structure before him came nearer to him. The golden dragon leaned upon the currents to glide around the tower to the opposite end where he found an opening large enough for his own form. There he swooped in. After thrusting his wings forward to lessen the impact of his flight, did he land upon tender feet. His talons created a soft clicking sound as they connected with the stone earth below.

While he regained his posture from the landing, his silver eyes cast about. All he found within the vicinity was a creature that was both cat and owl. With the head and tail of a cat and the body, wings and claws of an owl, it was the perfect combination of the two. This particular catowl was draped beneath a blanket of white which made the piercing blue eyes seem all the more pure. The resembled lakes of clear water within a landscape of pure snow.

The dragon performed a brief nod towards the creature before parting his jaws and speaking to it. “Tuwven, I must speak with your lady.” His tone was deep and genuine. It was but a deep rumble; the product of both fatigue and age.

The catowl spread his wings for a moment while changing his footing upon his perch; one of many connected to the walls for his convenience. “Aha.” he responded in a light voice. “Have you come to exchange your favor with her?” he wished to know.

Once again the dragon nodded. “I brought the Final One.” he replied.

Tuwven cast his bright blue eyes about to examine the entirety that the dragon before him was. His gaze stopped when he spotted the glowing object within the dragon’s talon. For a moment he sat still; his tail swaying from side to side. “You think…” he began while selecting his words carefully. Before he proceeded he raised his gaze once again to meet the unblinking silver eyes, “You are convinced that this is the Final One?” he informed.

With a tender gesture, the golden dragon placed the object upon the stone floor. “If not this one then who?” he answered with a sad tone.

“Very well.” Tuwven replied. He flicked his wings to carry himself into the air before floating effortlessly towards an opening within the wall beyond which lay darkness. Soon after this, the sound of flapping wings died out. What remained was the sound of the wind that blew by the tower.

The dragon waited with more impatience than he wished to hold. His talons remained around the glowing red object while it lay upon the floor. Through the connection with the surface of the object, the dragon felt the pulsing sensation of its glow. It resembled the beat of a heart. It throbbed with a gentle intensity. In unison with the evidence of this object’s life force, the golden creature sensed his own heart beating. With every beat that passed, he felt it weakening. While he had accepted his fate, he dared not depart this dimension without ensuring the safety of what little he could save; the last egg.

Several minutes passed before the door near the dark hole within the wall opened. It moved slowly and its hinges creaked as it did. The evening beams that flooded into the open space from beyond the tower engulfed the two figures the door now revealed.

One of the two was the white catowl who regained his perch rather quickly and sat there without a verbal word.

The second person was a woman. Dark eyes of wisdom and kindness were framed by a pale face that lay locked between dark curls of intertwined grey and black hues. She seemed slim beneath her cloak of splendid colors. Her entire body was decorated in small gemstones. A string of bright beads decorated her neck while rings of splendid colors lay around her wrists. Even her hair held small embellishments of varying colors. A small smile decorated her lips as she looked upon her guest. “Indyör.” she greeted him while performing a nod of acknowledgement.

“Minte.” replied the golden dragon while performing a nod of equal meaning.

The woman took several steps closer to the enormous beast before her. It was close enough for her to reach out and touch him. However she refrained from performing any such acts. Instead she merely held his gaze. “The fact that you have come means that the stars will be enriched soon.” she spoke in a deep yet warm voice.

“Correct.” the dragon responded. “My heart is giving out steadily. My heartstone shattered. Likewise did those of many of our kind.” he explained in a grave tone. He obtained a moment of silence before pushing the red object forward towards the robed woman of marvelous colors.

The woman raised her brows for a moment before kneeling down by the object to look upon it. After she had examined it briefly, she placed her hand upon it to feel the warmth of it and its tender glow. “An egg.” she acknowledged while casting her gaze upwards again.

The dragon nodded to her. “She is the only one left. Her egg was not found and destroyed and she does not have heartstones yet. Thus she could not be harmed that way. What is left of my heartstones is steadily withering away. I am not the only one. Every dragon lost their life. Before midnight…” His last words never came. He dared not speak them when he witnessed the change expression of the woman before him.

Tears had welled upon in her eyes as he spoke. From her cloak, she retrieved a silver object that fit perfectly in her two palms. It felt cold and fragile in her hands. “Oh, Indyör…” she whispered as she stared upon the object in her hands.

With cautious movements, the dragon sank through his legs to lay upon the hard floor beneath him to look upon the woman before him more intensely. “Please, Minte.” he murmured before he nudged the red egg with his nose. “Take care of her. Please take care of Caeirys.” his tone had become but a dim whisper.

Silently the woman started to weep. No sound occurred yet the tears were evident upon her cheeks. They shone in the evening light from the setting sun. With a quick yet tender motion, she placed the silver object by her side and reached out to the head of the golden dragon. She wrapped her arms around it as best as her small form would allow while laying her head and torso against him. The tears dripped from her cheeks onto his impeccable scales. They glided down before reaching the stone below.

Indyör partially closed his eyes as he watched her cry while he still heard the dimming bat of his heart. “Please…” he pleaded one las time while attempting not to allow his voice to tremble. He did not want her to know how faint his heart had become.

The woman separated herself from him and nodded to him. She whipped her tears with her sleeve to allow herself more clear sight. “Yes.” she spoke in a shuttering voice. “I promise.” she added to give him more assurance.

For a few seconds, Indyör did nothing but hum pleasantly. While he did, his eyes fell shut.

“Indyör.” the woman’s voice spoke. It pulled him from his overwhelming thoughts and exhaustion. He opened his eyes and looked upon her. She had grabbed the red egg and held it within her arms; clenched against her very body to keep it safe.

With tired movements, Indyör raised himself back onto his feet. He looked upon the small woman for what would be the last time. He dared not blink; afraid that he would not have any more seconds after he did. He wished to savor the moment. “Farewell, angel.” he whispered in a soft whisper as his eyes became sad yet peaceful. It was clear to him that this was the final words he’d ever say. He reached his head forward and touched the woman upon her forehead with his snout.

“Go.” she whispered in response while she still kept her eyes on him and her arms tightly around the egg.

Indyör backed away; returning the way he came. Before he reached the edge from where he would depart, he turned. He spread his wings; opening them far and wide. Before departing, he looked back one last time to the woman who stood behind him; watching him with large, sad eyes. He granted her one final nod before he made his final leap and committed himself to the last few flaps he would ever perform. As he jumped from the tower, the golden sunlight engulfed him and he made haste to disappear from the sight of the tower.

She watched him flap once, twice, three times. After this he vanished beyond her view. Feeling the desire to follow him, she rushed forward to the edge of the ledge from where Indyör had leaped. Her eyes darted about throughout the sky to try to catch one final glimpse of him. Before she managed to spot him however, a sound caressed her ear drums. A loud crack occurred; as if a glass object had shattered into pieces. The sound caused Minte’s heart to skip several beats. She turned around slowly; hesitant as if reluctant to find what truth would await her there.

Her eyes fell upon where the silver orb had lain. What remained of it now were but shards. Witnessing this caused renewed tears to paint dark trails upon her cheeks. She knew then. Indyör, the only one she ever loved, was dead.

Preview: A Nameless Tale of a Tainted Body

Hello kind internet readers! Greetings from a small nation in Europe come to you all. Has October been good to you? Ours has been quite turbulent. It has been either terribly cold or warm and sunny. I suspect the weather has bipolar disorder. I’ll keep my eye on it and advise it a therapist if so.

Anyways, I thought I should share another ‘sneak peek’ with you! This story has not a title yet. Sorry for that. But it has a prologue that I’m quite proud of and I hope that you will like to read it as well. Here it is!


            With sword in hand she stood. The look in her eyes gave emphasis to her stance of defense. She would protect her kingdom, her body and everything her life contained. It was not for the wellness of this life of hers, for that she had lost many times before. There was no freedom in it and she was prepared to give that up, should she be able to protect the people of her kingdom in doing so.

            Upon her head rested a crown with five gemstones imbedded within its gold; a diamond, an amethyst, a ruby, an emerald and a sapphire. Her blue eyes sparkled like the summer sky, lit by the brightest sun to ever burn within the universe. Gleam like the sunbeams her hair did. Her skin was light yet fair. But none of such fairness was to be found upon her face. She displayed not a form of it. Her eyes contained anger and hate towards the person before her. “Scum!” she hissed.

            The man before her laughed coldly at her single word. “I?” he questioned, tapping the flat side of his blade against his shield. “Not I, Queen.” he denied. His laugh echoed once more throughout the dimly lit room. Torches spread their bright beams across the room; painting the floor and walls in gold. Their dance was one unknown to mankind.

            She released a hiss once more while closing her eyes to slits as thin as blades that glared at the man before her. “If one’s body is tainted, one’s heart can still be fair. The truth within the heart matters.” she answered in a bitter tone. “Lord Metrias, I had thought of you as a loyal knight of the Five Gems. What sort of man betrays his country in such a way? Have you no pride?” The words rang from wall to wall and held immense power. As she spoke her final questions, she slightly raised the slim blade she held.

            “Pride? Why must one have pride if one knows better of rule than those in order?” he replied in a seemingly fascinated way. It was obviously false. In contradiction to her, he lowered his blade several inches. “Your tainted body can create nothing but evil and despair within our kingdom. The king might not know, but he soon will, Queen Ailathí.” He, Lord Metrias, rolled her name upon his tongue with the taste of hate upon his lips.

            “Speak not my name!” Ailathí bellowed. Her voice echoed; followed by the ringing of her heels upon the gleaming floor as she launched herself towards Metrias. The blade she held reflected every torch’s flame as she sped towards her opponent. With seeming ease, she swung her blade forward towards his throat.

            Metrias frowned and lifted his blade to block her movements. His blade was long and slender and within its pommel rested a diamond; the sign of his status as the highest member of the Five Gems; an order of five knights that lived for the protection of the kingdom.

            In an attempt to knock her off her feet, Lord Metrias shoved his shield forward with incredible force towards her shoulder. Yet Ailathí’s speed saved her as she jumped back; moving away only inches from the shield before tilting her wrist and knocking the shield up with the pommel of her sword. It allowed her an opening and she took full use of it. In an attempt to damage his chest, Ailathí delivered several consecutive blows towards his ribs before pouncing back for safety.

            “You might be fast, Queen, but you can not damage me. I earned the Diamond Gem title for a reason.” Metrias answered while grinning widely.

            His attempts to mock her and draw her near were in vain. “Every foe, Lord Metrias, has a weakness.” Ailathí knew while studying his body to detect an opening or weak spot. So far, the only advantages she identified would be her speed and stealth. Yet if he was able to catch her, his strength would easily crush her. He was skilled in the art of swordplay, for he had fought in many wars of the kingdom at the south border during battles against their foreign enemies.

            “All but the strongest of the kingdom, Queen Ailathí.” Lord Metrias answered, while lifting his blade to challenge her into combat. “And soon, this kingdom will be mine. King Lial will vanish from the throne and you with him, Queen. Unless you decide to serve at my side, that is.” he spoke.

            “I’d never. I’m loyal to only my king and beloved husband Lial. None but him can desire command of me and achieve it.” Ailathí answered in a dimmed and slowed tone. Though the words were hoarsely spoken, they contained nothing but truth. She gripped the handle of her blade tighter while she raised it up slowly before her body. Her gaze lay upon Metrias and the cross guard of her blade. “I would rather die.” she concluded, before pushing her body forward with a mighty leap and lunging towards her opponent’s heart with her blade.

            Aware that she was tempting him to knock her sword up with his blade so she was able to cut his throat in the process, Metrias answered her blow by blocking with his shield and slicing his sword in a downward direction to attempt to cut the woman before him.

            After letting herself fall to the ground, Ailathí made herself roll to the side while sending her blade upwards in a flowing motion. Her slim, razor-sharp blade cut through his sleeves and cut a portion of his skin; drawing blood. Though Ailathí had hoped to cut his muscles so he had difficulty lifting his shield against her, she was satisfied with the result nevertheless. The moment that her blade passed through his defense caught Metrias off guard so Ailathí was able to move back to a safe distance.

            Lord Metrias gritted his teeth angrily while glaring at her. “The rumors are true then, Queen Ailathí. You are more a warrior than a girl.” he growled to her. “They say you are skilled with a blade and I see it. Well then, I must not go easy on you, I see.” he decided.

            Ailathí growled and rolled her eyes slowly. “Rumors are called so for a reason.” she answered. “My name is only a word and power only a tool and a sword is a way.” she determined.

            Yet in answer to this, Lord Metrias let out an echoing laugh that bounced off of every wall within the large hall they occupied. “Power, a tool? A sword, only a way? You have it the other way around, Queen. I had thought better of a wise, old woman such as yourself; considering what you are.” he answered then. “No, the sword is the tool that achieves the way of power. And power is what I desire. Power over this kingdom and possibly over the eternal witch. Does that not sound appealing, Ailathí?” A grin possessed his face as he mocked her.

            His words struck a sensitive spot and Ailathí was caught in anger for a moment. Yet she quickly managed to clear her mind. “It does not; one bit. You would not use your power the correct way. You’d only desire wealth, immortality and fame. Yet it would all be false; deceit. Nothing you receive is permanent. We all lose it once we die.” she claimed in a light tone.

            “Not everyone does.” Lord Metrias answered. “Witches do not die, correct? They can be beheaded, have their heart pierced or hold an arrow through their skulls. Yet they can heal; from anything. Nothing can kill them. Does that make every materialistic thing permanent? Eternity is what I desire.” he bellowed.

            While she swung her sword through the air in a display of her disgust towards his words, Ailathí yelled, “Eternity is wrong! Living forever is a nightmare. Healing from everything can let one die and then live again; repeatedly. It is horrifying!”

            “I doubt it.” Lord Metrias grinned. He too swung his sword to challenge her. “Why do you not prove it to me then?” he questioned. Before he received an answer, he jumped towards her and let his sword move down; slicing through the air effortlessly.

            Ailathí ducked under his blade and stabbed at his gut with the tip of her weapon. She struck him, but soon found the side of his shield knocking her away from him. She found the impact sending her sideways for several yards. As she scrambled back to her feet, she found Metrias rushing after her in an attempt to take advantage of the moment. Yet as he neared her, Ailathí swung her sword upwards and sliced through the mail of his hauberk and into his gut and cutting towards the edge of his ribcage. Blood dripped down towards Ailathí while she rolled away and regained her footing.

            Lord Metrias grew more furious with her. For a moment he hid behind his shield to examine the wounds she had inflicted. Ailathí moved around him like a wolf; ready to pounce should she find it convenient. Yet he left no opening for her and thus she remained defensive till he would lower his shield. Every muscle within her tensed and all her senses were on alert.

            “No lady would desire to be so deadly.” Lord Metrias claimed while he lowered his shield to glare at her.

            “I am no lady.” Ailathí simply answered; predicting his next words to be directed at her powers. These were the powers that no one ever wished for. Never had she asked for them, yet she had received them. It was life’s cruel way of toying with the living. It laughed as some of them unwillingly had to commit to what life gave them. The one thing she wanted was out of reach due to these powers.

            Slightly she shook her head to rid of the painful feelings that she had harbored for many years. Instead she found Metrias approaching her; coming dangerously close. Thus she jumped back swiftly.

            “That I know, Queen, that I know. You are female but no lady. You are a queen but not a mistress of the humans. You never could be. Fate dislikes whom you are, obviously. It is such a shame.” Lord Metrias answered slowly while he watched her jump back from his looming form; exactly as he planned.

            Ailathí raised her free hand to tap the crown that rested upon her head. “I wear this for that reason though.” she objected; unwilling to let him judge her so darkly.

            Lord Metrias heaved his blade slightly; allowing an opening. “Yet…” he wished to proceed, but Ailathí launched towards him and rammed the flat side of her blade against his side; breaking one of his ribs through the impact of her sword upon his mail. It was more than he had anticipated, and so he let his blade rush down. Ailathí dashed sideways and so the sword only cut a portion of her light blonde hair.

            Following this attack, Ailathí danced forward for a moment while slashing at the wrist of his sword hand before retreating again. It had become a game for her. He was willing to allow openings for her because he underestimated her. The strength within his muscles was impeccable due to many years of experience.

            Because her blow had slightly altered the course of his blade, Lord Metrias was unable to answer her attack. So he decided to study her for several moments. He knew she was light and could easily be knocked over. Yet she was quick; too quick for him to equal. Thus he decided to use another technique to achieve victory. As he decided upon his plan of action, he glared at her. “The king will discover, Queen, what you truly are. And that is not a queen of humans. The king will know and he will laugh because of it.”

            Ailathí grunted; unable to believe him. “Lial will never laugh at such despair.” she denied.

            “Not Lial, Queen.” Lord Metrias replied while slowly shaking his head. “His crown and throne alike will be mine when the kingdom comes to believe that the two of you are dead. I will give them proof of it.” he promised with a slight nod.

            His confidence scared Ailathí and she began to fear for Lial’s life. She wondered if Metrias had already been able to conquer her husband and was now planning to do the same to her. This moment of doubt changed the tide of the battle. Lord Metrias lunged forward and carried his blade to her throat. He cut through her flesh; letting blood spill out.

            The agonizing pain of nearly losing her head rushed through Ailathí’s body and made her collapse to the floor. Blood spilled from her throat to the floor; painting it in crimson. It flowed down to her clothes and stained them in an equal color. A pool of blood collected around her on the floor while she sat on her knees; coughing heavily. Her crown had fallen and now lay before her; unattended to. Everything within Ailathí was hurting. Every nerve tingled with horrifying sensations. Her vision was a blur of what was near her. Her head spun of dizziness. Then she felt rough hands upon her shoulders and a knee beneath her chin. Both the hands upon her shoulders and the knee beneath her head, pushed her back; making her collapse onto her back.

            Then she gazed into his eyes; Lord Metrias’ furious, angry stare. It caused her whole body to revolt against her mind and her free will aimed to remain. She wished to scream, but no sound came due to her severed vocal cords. Her body combined the physical pain and the pain of his stare plummeting into hers. Then his words came; the words she had feared he knew. Those words left not a single chance for her. They echoed in her mind as he spoke; before she fainted due to exhaustion and the loss of blood. His words kept ringing for several seconds more before she fully lost connection to the various locations within her mind.


My Nameless Game

I’m one of those people that easily falls victim to distractions. Not in the way that comedy would like us to thi- oh, shiny butterfly!

Okay, seriously though…

For one thing, I’m sorry to say that I bailed on my Camp NaNo project. I’m a bit ashamed of it but I decided not to be ashamed of my choices; this one included. It won’t benefit me in feeling that way. I made the decision for a valid reason. It is logical to me, even if no one will agree with me that it is.

Park uitzichtOne might be able to imagine that I got distracted by sunny weather since it’s July. You’d be wrong, however. The sunshine has been scarce. What little of it that occurred could hardly be considered summer weather. I had other things that stole away my time. One of them is Pokemon Go. Honestly, I find it to be quite amusing and it gives me even more of an excuse to go for walks at 5 AM. I take walks in the park and behold pretty sights, see?

Another thing that’s been occupying me is something I have on my Bucket List. It states that I want to make a board or card game. I started on the latter option; a card game. As I’m writing this, I realize my game doesn’t have a name yet. This is a bit silly… I’ll come up with one though, in due time.

My Nameless Game

The game is a dueling style game. You place cards on a ‘field’ to use them against your opponent. The objective is to use your own creatures to defeat your opponent’s creatures and then to attack their health points. When you decrease the health points to 0, you will win. Should yours drop to 0 however, then you are the one that loses.

Balance cycleI considered showing a preview of what the cards will look like but I’m going to save that for a later time. I’ve been working on various art aspects of the cards; mainly creating symbols that will give information about the particular card. For example, there will be a box that indicates what category card you are holding (creature, equip, terrain, magic). The second box will indicate the element of the card (if applicable) and the final will show the type that the card is. There are six elements, as you can see to the right.

I finished all the type images too but for now I will only be sharing them with my harddrive. There are twelve types. They are as follows;

  1. Hero
  2. Dragon
  3. Demon
  4. Fairy
  5. Mage
  6. Warrior
  7. Equine
  8. Canine
  9. Feline
  10. Avem (birds)
  11. Aquatic
  12. Structures

The Basics

The basics are stated above; you need to defeat your opponent. You can do this by placing creature cards. They are the main part of the game. You use them to attack your opponent and defend yourself.

Every creature is assigned to both an element and a type. Elements, as shown in the image, have certain advantages over other elements. This will influence the duel if two creatures have equal statistics but differ in element.

There is also the option to use a terrain card. This will change the setting upon which you play. For example, if you use the terrain card called Flood, you will create a playing field covered in water. This will make creatures with water element very powerful. It will also give a slight boost to creatures that use lightning.

Third, certain cards will carry what is called Support. The minimum support that can be given is 1 and the maximum is 3 (indicated by a number of stars). If a creature carries support, then that creature will strengthen other creatures on the field that share its element or type. For example, a phoenix is considered a fire element and an avem type. If it carries 3 support points, it will make other birds on the field stronger but it will also make fire-elements stronger. Support points can be stacked, too. So if someone should then use a fire dragon with support, then it in turn will also strengthen the fire elements; on top of the already existing support. It will also lend its support to the phoenix creature. This is going to be the main basis of strategizing.

To mix things up however, some creatures with high support might not carry a lot of stats to actually keep themselves safe on the field. So they could be easily defeated by your opponent. To protect these creatures however, you can use another creature to guard it. Creatures on guard, as well as the creatures being guarded, can not attack your opponent. They can however be attacked. The other downside to using guard strategies is that if your opponent attacks the guarding unit and can defeat it, it will also take out the creature that was being guarded by it; regardless of this second creature’s power. It gets taken out with the first card.

Another aspect that can strengthen your side are equip cards. They will relate to your creature’s type and the equipment type. For example, while a dragon can use claws and elemental breath, it can’t use swords or shields in the way that warriors can. Aquatic creatures can receive stronger sonar or harder scales, felines can not. Therefore, it can truly create a certain preferences that people might have for types.

Last but not least, there are magic cards that can manipulate various aspects of the game. I haven’t decided all the various ones yet but there will be a handful of useful ones that could truly turn the tide of the battle. An example would be a card that triggers rain to fall for several rounds; weakening those that use fire and making water users more powerful.

I know it all comes off as quite a confusing collection of words. I hear that a lot. But I hope to eventually create a good amount of cards so I can try playing this with a friend so the rules become a bit more clear. Some day…


I Miss How (Poem)

I came across this old poem earlier. I thought I should share it. It’s actually one of my better works. I like the rhythm in it. Enjoy.

I Miss How

I miss how we used to be
A couple with real quality
Potential for a distant end
With truth and no need to pretend
Our hearts fly to the distant stars
To find a passion red like Mars

I miss how we used to look
Like heroes from a story book
Though without armies to command
We fought with sword and shield in hand
Eyes alert and muscles tense
To break through the foe’s defense

I miss how we used to hold
Each other’s heartstrings made of gold
The two together play a song
Of silver minds that get along
Words attempt the company
Of this hopeful harmony

I miss how we used to think
Of days to come after we blink
We’d close our eyes and drift away
To reach the heart that let us stay
And even during nights alone
I felt your touch upon my bone

I miss how we used to feel
Playful like a newborn seal
Happy like a fish in motion
Driven like the wildest ocean
All the feelings that we found
Made our hearts forever bound

I miss how we used to speak
Every day of every week
Never could we speak too much
In Frisian, English or in Dutch
I kept your words within my mind
Our love within them I can find

I miss how we used to love
A blessing sent from up above
Now it’s cold, the sky is dark
I’m alone when I embark
A path for me to pursue
Perhaps it leads me back to you

Crafty Gifts

Yeah, yeah, mother’s day. Most bloggers I follow have featured it this past Sunday. Personally, I don’t often turn it into a big deal. Several reasons have caused me to neglect it quite a bit this year. I messaged my mother to let her know I was thinking of her. She herself was away this weekend with my dad. They took their boat out to enjoy this divine weather. It’s been sunny and warm.

Anyways, I will be looking to visit my mother one of these to give her a little present I made her. I decorated a card with a picture of the both of us. I surrounded it with colored tape, put a bling flower on it and wrote a message on the back. The card is an invitation for us to go to a restaurant near me that serves fair trade and organic dishes to their customers. Quite a treat, I’d say.

Personally, I find such gifts more pleasant than a material object or money. I find that an experience will enrich your life more than any object ever can. You take a day out of your schedule to partake in an activity and it can change your views, broaden your horizons and give you renewed knowledge and viewpoints. For this reason, I both like to give such gifts as well as receive them (so for any friends reading this; hint hint).

Objects break, get lost, become lost or forgotten. Though memories can fade too, that is known. But often times, a picture or other simple object that can be kept as a reminder of the day can help keep the memory clear. This is why I like to take something from a place where I went to remind myself whenever I come across it. This is also why I made the card for my mother. She can keep it (I purposely tried to make it pretty for her) to remember that we spent time together at a (hopefully) good restaurant.

Generally, I’m not good at giving gifts. I’m not good at asking for suitable ones either, but that is a whole different story. My gift-giving abilities will become better though, the more I know the other person. This is logical. I find things they like and am able to use that information to find them something I think they’d like. More than buying something for them though, I like to make something for them instead. A show of care and attention proves that a person actually spent time and effort. It’s also fun to do though.

One of the things I’m prone to making is a painting. I’ve created romantic pictures for loved ones, images of characters they like or made up or even an image of something they like. An example is a rose that I painted for a good friend of mine. She has an immense weak spot for roses and had requested to buy a canvas for me to paint one on for her. I decided to make one and give it to her for her birthday instead.

For my dad, I often made customized shirts. This was always really simple and fun to do. All you need is a white shirt, a large piece of cardboard that fits inside the shirt and waterproof marker(s) or special fabric markers. You place the cardboard inside the shirt and then draw on the shirt. The cardboard prevents the marker from leaking through to the opposite side of the shirt. You can even place a picture on the cardboard you use and then attempt to trace it onto the shirt, if you don’t trust yourself to draw without guidelines. I always found this to be very fun and my dad always loved the shirts I made for him.

I’ve also decorated objects to use. I also do it for objects I use myself just to give them a more personal touch. I’ve painted glasses as a gift and even painted and decorated a picture frame. For myself, I have decorated the back of my laptop. I made my own sticker for it, using the header of my blog. I have placed a twinkly star on my phone case to give it more character and I’ve also decorated a heart-shaped container. I’m still considering how to personalize my iPad. Any and all suggestions are welcome.

That is a brief list of what I have done. The list of things I still want to do, is immense. I have seen and read about trillions of DIYs that I still want to perform. I still want to make my own candles, coasters, decorate objects using nail polish and personalized tea light holders. I have plenty of ideas for all of these. Here’s to hoping I will actually be able to get to them some day…