The Fires of inspiration

a reply to: LucidWarrior

So right now it's safe for me to say each 'chapter' is going to have a short blurb type thing leading into it...

For now, star, I'll tease you with this

~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:"~

a reply to: LucidWarrior

The elven maiden savors the written words the story teller presents. Smiling warmly she returns the page back to the gentleman before her. "It is a rare and wonderful gift to bring the pages of a story to life, painted with words. In your own time, the rest of the story will unfold, like the hours in our lives and I shall wait. Patiently I shall wait." Storm, the dragon spreads his wings wide, takes to the sky and circles from above, dips and spins before rising higher. Pesky the pixie twirls around and claps her hands with glee.

Lucid, you deserve writing status and can ask a mod for the title. You don't have to win the title in a contest to get it. Just sayin'.

originally posted by: LucidWarrior
a reply to: LucidWarrior

I really do have a fragment I wrote the other night, thank you for waiting on me NightStar! I tend to forget and avoid things that make me happy, unless I am happy XD I feel it(the story) humming right now, so I'm going to work on it some! I still don't want to say when I'll have it in but I won't forget about it I promise.

I don't always feel happy myself, but sometimes, that's when my best writing is done. You can be inspired from emotions good or bad. Listening to some kind of mood music helps too. Never avoid things that make you happy. Embrace them and hold on to them.

a reply to: Night Star

Funny, that's what all my stories tell me too- to reach for the stars, not just to stare at them. No need for envy- the window is only in my mind. I can grab them, if I try. I just, usually don't. But no more of that- I give myself permission to be happy, and to be okay when I am not. To fail, and to try again. Permission to succeed.

What is mood music? I tend to listen to instrumentals that engage me while I write. Well, shucks haha! Never thought to just ask somebody about it.

a reply to: LucidWarrior

Yes, give yourself permission to be happy, but it's ok if you're not. We all have our good and bad days.

We got to discuss the mood music in another thread. I am so glad that you enjoyed the vids!

a reply to: Night Star

Hey so I was going to give you another peek but I discovered a little thing called editing! Be back soon~

a reply to: LucidWarrior

LOL! I'll be waiting.

a reply to: Night Star

Yeah- I know, and I am incredibly grateful

a reply to: LucidWarrior

I guess it's pretty cool to have an Elf read your stuff and all. LOL

Looking forward to whatever you come up with.

a reply to: Night Star

Okay so it might take me to redraft lol! I'm kinda afraid to look at my op under this critical eye though I already know it's my best friend... So here's a bit for ya:

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 it's arm and met the second slash with my shield even as I rammed my blade into it's stomach. The force of it's 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 of the things head, but not before it's 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 the wind as haymirk rose. He looked awed and apologetic at the same time.

a reply to: LucidWarrior

Wonderful!



Keep going! I love your imagination and way with words!

a reply to: Night Star

Funnily enough that excerpt was the one that inspired me to start editing because I didn't like how many times I said it or the thing but then the edit took a different direction so I'm trying to find where they connect.

I won't ever stop for very long! Thanks again for your praise.

~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 feed others."

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 time.

He stopped as I reached up with my noninjured arm to rest my hand on his shoulder. I didn't say anything, of course, I just looked at him, but he understood at once that I didn't want praise nor did I see anything less of him. I'm not sure how much of that was the faeries. My body had Frozen, but because I kept my focus on amavril, paying her my attention, she had kept me in motion. Just like she promised.

Now though I turn to examine the wound the monster had given me, three slashes across the upper part of my sword arm. It wasn't very deep, but it had left a poisonlike substance behind, like it had detached a part of it's inky blackness and was still living to infect me. It was spreading through my veins rapidly, but there was no pain. In fact it didn't affect my body aversely beyond the initial wound- this lingering assault was on my mind. I laughed, however, making the darkness hesitate in confusion once again. This enemy, at least, was nothing new- I knew what oppression felt like, I knew what the sound of encroaching darkness was.

More importantly, however, I had amavril. "Actually, Daelim, I have always been here singing to you, crying out to you. It was my call you heard, in the silent portion of ink on paper. It was my cry which made you restless and aware. Yet your attention so easily wanders, and your effort so slow to start. Every time you came to me you would leave me, heading right back out of the door, crying in pure frustration. This was because there was a barrier inside you, keeping your will from enacting itself. That barrier is the darkness, or rather your hold on it.

a reply to: LucidWarrior

For himself and others**

Don't know how I missed that...

You are one amazing writer my new friend! I wish I had half the talent that you do! I really look forward to your entries and can't wait to read more!

a reply to: Night Star

You kidding? I've read Your stuff! I'm honoured but I dont think I'm better than you.

a reply to: LucidWarrior

Nope, not kidding.

a reply to: Night Star

Hmm. I don't wish to accept a compliment that also puts you beneath me.

Would you say my story as I have it so far should be revised? I think so.

a reply to: LucidWarrior


I love it the way it is, but you are the author.