A Murder of Crows
Part I: Terms.
"Ugh! Unhand ME!"
Shouted a man draped in cloth as two metal clad figures drag him out of a storage room of an incomplete fortress. Violently Pulling on the mas as he resisted in vain at their might. Grunting as they ripped their arms in the direction they were walking.
"LET. ME. GO!"
Tale of creation.
Long ago, before text and theory ever instilled a sense of beginning, before day had ever began to flow, stood 3 great Titans locked in a stand off. One bulked by quantities of white and white like stones; one clad in a mixture of black and smoky stones; the third more decorated with exotic colors and textured. Massive stone giants, with engraved armor and wielding arm sized swords, stood facing, pointing at one another. Beyond their bodies flowed a circuit of energy, a stream generated by the movements of each titan.
Having been at the throat of the other, war locked for an eternity, they remained unwilling to flee. Each taking strikes at another with jagged ancient blades that appeared as if they were part of their massive arms. Swiping at their hard bodies, digging out chunks and spilling clear liquid upon making contact, but none ever took enough that couldn’t restore itself. With no bias towards which is a true enemy, they each attack either one within their reach. Sole intention of becoming the victorious yet never bending the tide of battle.
The Titans knew nothing but their empty conflict.
Part VI: Remaining among the Living - Borrowed Time.
Struggling to escape, I began moving violently to get myself free. Ignoring the pain, I had to get out, I must. As my breathing began to grow heavy, my teeth clenching as tight as they could without cracking, I manage to squirm free. Taking a sigh of relief, my pain kicked back into my senses. My eyes shut hard as my hands rise to hold my torso.
Moments pass, the pain calmed enough for my sanity to take hold of my perspective. Patting my body, I feel all kinds of wounds. Though, not open. I didn’t understand at first with what happened, but after thinking about it, it became clear: I used the blood. No, the life of these men to spare my own. Realizing this, I knew I wasn’t really alive at this point. Borrowing life in such a manor is like spraying a flammable catalyst onto a fire. It roars at first but in turn tends to die quickly since the fire didn’t get the chance to take root in it’s body.
Not sure what I should do, my mind kept swirling around my now borrowed time. I didn’t want this to be the end, but that is no longer up to me. I wasn’t greedy enough to begin taking everything’s life around me. All I could do, was wait for my time to run out. Since anything I could do would only hasten my end.
Worry finally left me as I sat back onto the ground. Propping my legs upon a corps close to me. I remained, thinking. Of what my purpose was up here, if my banishment was till death, or if it was to test me upon this world. For it certainly wasn’t for me to bring our knowledge to these, people. We were far too different from what I have perceived.
But even those answers never came to me. I felt my mind jumping from thought to thought. It no longer made any sense. My body began radiating with a mixture of pain and cold, starting at the tips of my arms and legs, making their way to my core. I felt myself leaving my body, though I couldn’t comprehend it. My emotions were no longer in my control as my arms and legs began seizing. Behaving erratically, till all stilled.
My spirit ejected from my body. Lifting just above, the energy mixed with it from these bodies separated and blew away. I found a piece of serenity overcoming me as I drifted away, into the natural flow of energy.
Part VI: Paradox.
Snapping to, realizing he was back on his cot, staring out the flap of his tent, the man’s eyes remain open yet throbbing. Having sat there without blinking for hours. His dog next to him increasingly restless keeps nuzzling his arm over its head to get his master’s attention, to no avail. He was caught within a trance. Giving up, the pet roams the ground for a moment before settling down.
The man remained motionless for several more moments, before erupting with a gasp for breath; almost as if he came back to life, taking his first breath. His face looked horrified, body shaking as he slowly attempted to push himself further from the entry way. Falling off the cot and dragging himself next to his fire pit he kept focus, watching the sun set till he felt a rush of heat glove his left hand. Immediately catching his attention, he flung his hand up before he buried it within the soft ground below to extinguish the fire. Breathing quickly, his attention fell to the ground; to his shadow and how it no longer was behaving as it should. Glancing over to the mirror, then shifting back to his shadow, growing suspicious and filling with stress.
Excerpt: Elirian Quest.
Excerpt from Chapter 6: Old Wounds.
Aldramek had moved towards the Inns back door as Tor was talking with the Innkeeper, distracting most of the others in the group. He lowered his packs right before the door, and as he did so, caught a glance from Calcazar. They exchanged glares for a moment, then Aldramek looked away and left the inn. He was preoccupied enough as it was for the moment.
Once outside the inn, he headed Northwest through the town, through the light rain. Few townspeople walked the streets at this time. He remembered that it hadn’t always been this way. He noted a few sidelong glances and realized that however few people were out and about, they had noticed him. He thought some even recognized him.