The Forest of Icy Dreams

The broken breath begins to breathe its lasting moment, a cloud forms as she breathes out the cold of the darkened forest. Laying on the ice cold snow she breathes slower and slower, awaiting her fate… Welcoming the peaceful moment of a darkened stillness that lays before her. It is only in time, the pain is bearable knowing that the last moment will be a peaceful one. She reaches out to the clouds above as a cry of a quickened release. Yet there is no answer, the gods can not hear her in the Forest of Icy Dreams… What a stupid move I made, coming here… I knew I should’ve listened to Seryn… Dear Sister…

Her eyes begin to close off to the world outside, hoping to never wake again… The trees begins to speak to her with the slightest whispers of wispy words, The wispy words tangle themselves like sentient roots around her broken body. The underlaying frequency of the forests speech begins to slowly envelop her body, until she feels covered in this invisible energy. This forest is no ordinary one, is this the purpose of my journey? Death is so inviting and yet I feel myself becoming more alive with each whisper from the woods.

Time seems to have stilled to all but a moment, enveloped by the forest, encapsulated from the waking world, she begins to feel the subtle flux of the forests movements. The ravens and owls flight path is known, the scuttling critters of the forest is heard and located, the sudden movement of a snow wolf pouncing on the silver deer, the sound of the rustling leaves of the entire forest becoming one song in so many. The forest becomes an organic movement of sounds, creatures and swaying of trees. The ultimate feeling, amongst the myriad of feelings, is one of pure content and understanding of the Forest of Icy Dreams. It is as if she has known her Friends of White Bark for so long, to understand each and every one of them on a deeper level. My place is with my Children, the Trees of Icy Dreams, and I shall stay by their side forevermore… I shall never leave again, like I did many centuries ago. 

Triach’s Calling

He began again, never looking back. The dusty sands beneath his feet pull him to the Alter of Triach. Janues need not the burden of thought, for the Sages of the Sands guide his every move. Step by step, dust by dust.
     The feeling of being moved by a force greater than himself, he feels at peace, knowing this is for the ultimate purpose. The purpose of change, the purpose of growth, the purpose of renewal.
     Only then he can embark on his true calling, to instill change in the humans of this world. To instill the force of Triach. The challenges await him as the scorching sun climbs to the sky. Janues welcomes the challenge, for the life living without is a purposeless one.

Jungle Journey

“So I have to insert this shard into the slot right?”

“Yeah, you need to turn it 180 degrees as well. Don’t forget that. Its important.”

He reminds me for another countless time. The bone shard. Yes that ancient artefact, what one thing can make you do in this jungle filled world. Held in safe hands by the Kiki Tribe, they didn’t even know what it was for. I’m sure they’re not missing it. I place the bone shard carefully into the carved slot of the large tree trunk. A satisfying clink sounds, then turn the shard around as the circular edge presents itself. Another clink.

“Okay, now stand back.”

We stand back for a moment, then… Nothing.

What excitement, a journey wasted. I’ve done so much for this…. 

At a moment in the darkened forest, a slow hum accompanies the birds and crickets of the jungle. At first I thought it imaginary, but as it grew louder like an ocean wave drawing near, I was certain of its real nature. As the hum grew, a dim light emanated from the vines of this large tree trunk start to grow. Well, this is something.

Then an increasing rumble on the forest floor starts. As I gaze on the floor dirt begins to fall beneath the forest shrubs, the crevice opens wider and wider until I see steps leading down into an unknown place.

“See! I knew it. The Time Orb is one step closer to being mine!” he says, with a greedy gleam in his eyes. Now dealing with this fool will be challenging. But since the gods are with me, I should be fine…

A Day Of Simplicity

An opportunity upon the glimpse of the sunlight skies begin to unravel itself through the descended haze. A worthy moment makes the change become a welcomed sight, a sunny day amongst the monsoon season.

She sits upon her window sill as a throne of peace,
Gazing upon the never ending days of tranquil rain.
When there is rain, let it rain. Drop by drop, piece by piece.
There is no reason to rage and scream, all but naught to gain.

The midnight air gently creeps in through the cracks of the windows as a welcoming breeze. The darkness is quite a comfort, the silence of the night, save for the rhythmic pattern of rain, this is what I live for – moments like these.

The next day is a relaxing day, there is no worries, no responsibilities, nothing at all to do. She wakes up in the late afternoon knowing this, smile upon her face like a child opening a Christmas present. It has truly been so long since a day like this chanced upon me, better make the most of it. She has no plans to go outside, never on a day like this. This is her day.

She looks to her bedside table, a half finished book, its about time to finish it, she picks it up. She rises from her bed with all the time in the world, its no longer necessary to jump like a grasshopper to work. A comforting snail pace is desirable. As she leaves her room and steps down the wooden stairs she looks upon the art on the wall she created. Almost as if she has not noticed them at all she relives her creation and appreciation. The days with a faster pace makes me forget about this beautiful place, and the beautiful art that I create. A sense of appreciation runs through her mind.

As she makes her breakfast and coffee, she looks outside and glimpses the chanced sunny day. What a sight! What a chance! A decision takes her to have breakfast sitting in the backyard, with the company of the warm grass and comforting ball of light in the sky. Her day is filled with the adventure of her beloved story. An immersion in another world that ceases all worry in the one she lives in. Timeless hours pass on by. A finished book, and long since finished breakfast.

The Call Of A Wilted Flower

Left alone with only the falling rain as company. Each drop a friend to her, each drop a friend gone. Knowing she is but one amongst the thousands of raindrops, her fate, she accepts. She knows no laughter, knows no smile. A feeling so fitting to her amongst the crying sky.

Her leaves wilt as her petals fall. Her petals, once as vibrant as the summer skies, the good days, now transformed into the bleakness of a darkened sky.

Where is the hope? She cries, where is the love of light and care in which she had before? It pains her so. Her friend was once nice to her, feeding her water and making sure she had enough light… But then something changed. Her friend stopped caring, stopped becoming a part of her life. Now, slowly, as the friendship deteriorated, so did she.

Here she now lies, atop a blackened bin on wheels, awaiting her fate.

The rhythmic rain pattern sets her mind into a trance. Time has become inconstant, unimportant and meaningless. All that matters is the calming drops upon the hard, earthen ground in the dark of night.

As she begins to settle into the rhythym of the night, a distant pattern of sound makes itself apparant. The sound of feet hitting the wet ground. Another one of these, she thinks. A legged being who has the power to care and be a friend, where she is helpless in an environment so chilling no wonder why plant life is sparse! This one will be like all others, this one will not wish to be a friend. Even though I ask them kindly, they seem not to speak my language – or just ignore me! Which is even worse! How she wishes only to have a friend, for the strength of friendship is what she lives for.

As the patterning sound becomes louder and louder she cries out with a desperate plea. Broken and forgotten, wilted and decayed, her last hope of becoming new again is slowly escaping her like an autumn leaf whisltling away from the changing tree.

At a sudden moment the footstep sound stops. Then, a moment never before thought possible chanced upon her like a split of sunlight amongst the stormy sky. This legged one heard her plea and accepting her friendship! Oh the joy and the relief! The time is nigh to change with this newfound friend!

He picks her up and sees the broken formed being she has become. A moment of sorrow shoots through him, but is quickly replaced with hope and determination.

He sees the potential of what she may become, and so with eager determination he sets off on this journey – to renew this beautiful flower. A mission worth the every effort.

The Lilypad Elf

The lilypad hovers gently upon the surface of the clear blue water. He sleeps peacefully upon his green bed, a pointed hat and calming smile is all he is. There need not be any other doing in a sun fuelled day such as this. His slumber shall continue as summer stays strong. 

When the time is ripe to wake from dreams, he shall know his purpose. Receiving his path through the peace of dreams is the Lilypad’s way. An almighty race, small and nimble, yet tuned in to the ways of the forest and sky. 

Challenge Of The Gods

He looked up upon the radiant skies and saw the goddess shine the world with her divine beauty. The forest grass purrs gently upon his bare feet. The gentle wind kisses his rugged cheeks, neither too cold nor too warm.

Everything that is felt seems all too perfect to be true – the air of dawn, crisp and clear. The forests floor, hummed with the morning dew. The song of birds and lonesome owls. The trotting of a calming stag.

She looked upon him with glistening eyes, such wisdom, such power, the eyes that have seen eons unfold through eternity. Such a tremendous feeling so hard to gaze, he looks away. The goddess shines with her silver silken robe, high cheekbones and smooth complexion. He gazes upon her soft features that reminds him of the kindness of his mother.

After what seems a timeless moment. He thinks to speak, but before he utters a sound the goddess, as if knowingly, begins to speak “I grant thee, child of mine, a gift. A gift which will show you the hearts of man, that which was unseen, seen. That which was unheard, heard. But first the chosen desciple of light shall prove the God’s of Old he is worthy. Doth thee wish to carry the burden of responsibility? Doth thee wish to set foot and embark on the Challenge of the Gods?

War King

As he sits upon his dusty throne while comtemplating the achievement of his own. How the struggle of adversity affects him greatly, the ones dear to him lost forever in the ocean of crimson blood, the ocean created by non other than himself. Such pain and misery, such glory and victory. The intensity of feeling when comrades battle for one cause. True liberation.

The dusk of sunlight ever growing weaker with the specks of dust losing light, he arises from his newly found throne and stands as tall as an undefeated mountain. His mighty sword of victory rests below his hands, scathed and bloody, piercing the ground for a final statement to all who watches, so true the battle worn armor that seems to wear him. The feeling of a never ending close to this war leaves him with not a finger to lift. The energy has all been dispersed to the correction of his newfound nation. His energy has been depleted as he suddenly collapses to the ground, leaving an echo of a new story unfolding through the nation.