“How many fear the dark only
to find there is little to fear”
-The Bird-Child Socrates
As the shadowy mist faded away, a foreboding man with charred brittle skin appeared. In the cracks, there glowed what appeared to be red-hot lava. His eyes were like embers as he glared at them. Ayana regained her bearings, Tarnink behind her, sword drawn. A small troop of twisted men circled them.
Ayana found herself faced with this monstrosity. His eyes glowed so hot that his stare burned into her. He was blind, yet Ayana felt he could sense her that he was looking at her.
The scar he had on his left eye glowed the brightest red and cut deeper than the other red cracks of his flesh. Strapped to his right side he carried a sword, and in his right hand a long spear. His long feathery black hair blended in with the darkness of the forest. He wore a battered Spartan styled armor without a helmet or a shield. His tattered maroon cape draped his shoulders. His body alone seemed like a stone as if the charred skin was protection enough.
“Those who seek adventure often
fail to see the deadly perils
that follows after it”
The Bird-Child Socrates
Ayana awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. She glanced around her palace bedroom. It was a large spacious room with an elegant queen-sized bed. Bright red curtains draped the expansive windows. It had a large cherry wood chest of drawers with an ornate mirror across from her bed. The morning sun spilled in to the room and painted her face in a soft light.
Ayana tossed her elafi skinned blanket as she stood up and slipped out of her red silk nightgown. She dressed in a new rohit-elafi, leather armor and found her leather moccasins. She admired in the mirror how perfect the skin from her prey fit. Ayana pulled on her new red trimmed traveling cloak. She pulled the hood down letting her beautiful light curls flow over her shoulders. The cloak was airy and well made; it covered her delicate frame with a delightful simplicity.
“There are none fairer than the
Gaian Elves of Lenagard”
Tarnink, ambassador of Lenagard
A young woman with elven beauty walked along a narrow forest path. Her black and red streaked hair swept past her high cheekbones with a small wind. She froze at the sound of a snapped twig and sniffed the air. She caught the distinct scent of rohit-elafi along with the familiar trace of sulfur. The woman grabbed her bow as she peered out through her emerald eyes, the slit pupils narrowed when she spotted her prey. Her arched eyebrows curved in concentration. It was an older rohit-elafi and was not likely to survive the coming winter; she shot and hit her mark.
The woman approached the small red deer like creature and lifted it over her slender shoulders with great ease. The weight shifted on her shoulders. She moved a strand of her wavy hair away from her eyes as she slid down the path. The narrow path grew wider and large trees dotted it, spaced out in an interesting pattern. The air smelled of oak and the comforting scent of sulfur left the winds. This was the elven village of Mila and the homes were in those trees. She moved with stealth through the village.
“If you fail, I will deliver
the most severe of punishments.
Pain and suffering will be your only friend”
Gori to Arajuan
The warm sun could not cheer Arajuan’s defeat, and losing the twins would cause him even greater pain. He had taken a full troop of men but now he had enough left for one platoon. As they marched towards Lenagard, he halted the men and sniffed the morning air. Mika, she must be taking the hatchling.
“Into cover now, we don’t have the men to fight another dragon!” He ordered.
Arajuan led the men into a small thicket of brush. He then crept back out toward the scent of Mika. Socrates flew from a tree and to his shoulder. The boy had watched over the cave the night before and now he lent Arajuan his eyes. Mika was with a man, Tarnink, he recognized those jade eyes and tied oak hair. In the moss jacket, that had to be the wyrmling who Arajuan would suffer for.
Written as From “Arajuan/Koraki Kanosis”
Perfect rage, anger and hatred
These are not evils
No these feelings
They mean you have loved
It is love that is the root
Of anger, fear and pain.
It is our love that causes
Us to feel loss
What is evil is
Forgetting this love
And becoming consumed
Turning to rage alone
And forgetting Justice
“It was a vast burning field
where no flowers grew
blood covered the embers
where no bodies were strewn
Who could do this to a land
that committed no crime
a place that had peace
In a time before time”
the devastation Arajuan
caused through out
That morning Ayana awoke with the sun peeking into her tent. With the darkness gone
the sun beamed the brightest she had ever seen. Only a slight trace of sulfur was on the wind much to her relief. She sat up, her stomach had a dull ache, but her legs healed except for scars on the back of them. Her shoulder where Arajuan gripped her had no wound at all. She had fallen asleep in her travel armor, so she did not need to dress. She left her tent, found Tarnink was already up and had prepared a fire.
Tarnink pulled out a pack of food and handed it to her. She tried to eat but her stomach felt numb. The food just sat and rotted. She tossed the food away from her in frustration.
“Arajuan, that vile beast, he is trying to starve me to death,” she exclaimed.
By “Ayana Kanosis”
I watch as your soul slowly dies
I see that you are suffering
And all I can do is cry
The pain is so intense it stings
What can I do to comfort you?
How can I take the pain?
There seems nothing I can do
And it is driving me insane
What can I do to wake you
From your nightmarish hell?
No matter what I can’t break through
I cry, I scream, I yell
what must I do to melt the ice
that covers your hardened heart?
will just my words suffice
or must body and soul be ripped apart
I saw you falling fast
Seems you forgot how to fly
All due to the dead hand of the past
Let me save you I cry
As I catch you in my wings
Grab onto me I plead
For you truly mean everything
All I want is to fulfill your every need
Yet life is so unpredictable
I thought I saw you at my door
The dice are on the table
I wonder if you long for something more
And that is when I find that there is a chance
To get through to your cold hardened heart
Life is nothing more than a dance
In which from you I don’t wish to part