knightskeeper

[knightskeeper]

Reflection

    I’ve learned much over the course of my creative writing class this spring semester. I thought when I first started writing in the beginning of this class that it would be easy, given that I had experience writing creatively beforehand, well I was wrong. Taking this course pointed out some flaws in my overall writing style, such as: pacing, dialogue, and original character development. I tended to be overly descriptive about certain imagery aspects, being compared to “that one grass scene” in the original book “Frankenstein” by Mary Shelly. That one got a laugh out of me. Although, just as this course pointed out my flaws, it helped me to see that descriptive imagery, and writing down the overall emotions of my characters seemed to be my superpower. I loved being able to write down and describe the setting of the story in hopes that the reader would be able to imagine it exactly as I saw it in my head!

    I know one piece of writing that stuck with me in this class was “The Things They Carried” by Tim O’Brien. It was about a platoon of American soldiers fighting on the ground in the Vietnam War, and the main character would describe the items that he himself, and his platoon members carried with them. The reason it stuck to me was because of the precious stone the main character carried around with him, reminding him of his time back at home and the girl he was sweet on. It showed me that even the smallest items a character has can tell a mighty story, or even act as a window into their memories. Every small detail that a character has, or the items they carry, has a purpose that allows the reader to get to know them better.

    As a young creative writer, that’s in the process of writing their own book. I learned many lessons and skills I hope to keep refining as I write.

[knightskeeper]

Dreams of Freedom

Authors note: This is part of a backstory for a side character in the book I'm working on. This piece was inspired by "The Lost Dreamer" by Lizz Huerta. Enjoy!

The harmonic melody of the field hands singing their hearts out filled the area surrounding the fields. Their songs were abruptly cut short with the sudden ringing of the overseer’s bell, indicating the end of the day. Teak trudged through the muddy fields of the Rumpvine Plantation, even though he no longer had to actively work in the harvesting grounds. The job of sorting the grape vines and hauling the bins they were placed in came with its own challenges, Teaks’ worn paws sunk into the soft earth with each heavy step he took. Hanging his head, the weight of the day's labor pressed down on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the life he led as a half-blood in servitude. Around him, the other half-bloods moved with weary determination, their fur matted with sweat, water, grape juice and dirt under the setting scorching sun.

  “Long day of hurling them barrels has you dragging your feet?” A sudden voice spoke.

  Halting his walk back to his quarters, he looked up from the ground, ears perked. Teaks eyes fell upon his friend Jargen, a young dog like Half-Blood like himself; his fur looked scraggly and matted, with sweat and mud no doubt, and his ears. Although perked up, had a slight droop to them, Jargen looked tired and worn but that never stopped him when it came to checking up on him. Teak couldn’t help a slow tail wag.

  “Maybe if y’all weren’t so good at picking them grapes, there wouldn’t be so many barrels to haul.” Teak joked, a small smile cracking on his face.

  Jargen let out a chuckle, it was uplifting moments like these that got the two of them through the long days, sun scorching at their backs as the overseers or pattyrollers, as some of the other half-bloods called them, would watch them work the field and enforced the master’s law.

  “It’s not like I chose to be this good at pickin’ grapes” Jargen said, while rubbing the back of his scruff. “Say, would you mind if I joined you back to your place? I got somethin’ important to ask ya”

  “I don’t see why not, lets get movin’.”

  Walkin side by side the two made their way, leaving the fields behind them. The slave quarters, unlike the fields, were placed on the left front side of the plantation. Close enough for master Zether to keep an eye on them but hidden enough out of sight for his guests not to look at the ghastly things. It also gave the Half-bloods some privacy as well.

  Just about halfway through the grounds, Teak glanced towards the main plantation building, a grand white house with supporting pillars and deck all around that stood as a stark contrast to the run-down housing where he and his fellow half-bloods were relegated to live. The disparity between the opulence enjoyed by their master, Zether, and the squalor endured by the workers was a bitter pill to swallow. The sight made Teak feel an inner turmoil within himself stir, he only dreamt of being able to experience such things. Hearing a low growl, Teak turned to look at Jargen next to him, He too was looking at the Masters home. He had a face of irritation, eyes narrowed with his nose wrinkled slightly, as if he was about to bare his teeth. Teak put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Hey friend, you doin’, ok?” He asked.  

  “Why can’t we have that, Teak?” Jargen questioned. Looking at his friend, “We work hard enough round here to deserve somethin’!” He barked, fidgeting with his hands.

  “Shhh!” Teak shushed, looking around him to make sure none of the overseers were around.

  “Don’t be speakin’ like that! What if one of the pattyrollers hears ya?”

  “So, what if they’s hear? I ain’t aimin’ to be nobody’s slave forever!” Jargen argued, balling his fists, and looking down at the patchy grass.

  Jargen made a point, Teak came from five generations of Half-bloods that were slaves here, when does the cycle end? His friends’ words made that turmoil stir up inside of him, he felt loyal, grateful even to Master Zether. The master gave him a less taxing job, better food, warmer blankets and much more, yet he too yearned for the luxuries the master had. Better yet, he yearned to live his life as he wanted to, not to be bound here forever, but that was a dream he pushed down long ago.

  “Listen, I know you got favor with the master—” Jargen stopped before grabbing teak and pulling him into some brush closer to the slaves’ quarters and out of sight from both the masters house, and any other nosey Half-bloods. “—I was thinkin’, what if we took a break for it? Get away from all this.” Jargen said, making an open palmed gesture to the plantation.

  Teak felt a lump in his throat, this was serious and just speaking of escape was worth a lashing. He could feel Jargen eyeing him, waiting for a response, but this is all he’s ever known. He’s only ever heard whispers from the masters’ guests about how the outside world was, and as grand as it sounded. There were parts of it that also made him grateful to be under the master’s protection. Teak was grateful that Jargen had even asked him, most other half-bloods would’ve just left without a word, and upon being caught, would’ve disappeared all the same.

  “J-Jargen, you’re my closest friend, but I must admit…“ Swallowing another lump, Teak knew this was going to break his friend’s heart. “T-This is just…too much to ask.”

  As if on cue, Jargen looked away from him, flattening his ears against his head and sucking his teeth while his tail stiffened.

  “Alright.” He scoffed “I get it, you like bein’ masters favorite.”

  “No that’s not what—”

“You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. I just figured you might wanna come along, bein’ my friend and all.”

  Jargen took a few steps back, putting space between himself and Teak before completely turning around to walk back to his own quarters. Teak felt a mix of sadness and guilt, he drooped his ears and hugged his legs with his tail. Am I doing the right thing? Should I stay, or should I join my friend? Teak couldn’t decide what he wanted, he felt he had an obligation to his master yet, another side of him screamed to join his friend, to be free.

  “ Jargen Wait!” He called out to his friend.

  It was the only thing he could think of doing, he didn’t want his only close friend to leave. Jargen only took a few steps, before stopping to look at Teak, drooped ears and hardened eyes met him, but Teak’s known him long enough to see through his façade. Both the hurt and disappointment were there, just hiding.

  “If you change your mind, come find me tomorrow in the fields, I’m set on leavin’, but I ain’t goin’ quietly.”

  With that final say Jargen turned his back to Teak, giving a backhanded wave before leaving his friend to walk back to his quarters himself. The sun was just about fully dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the barren landscape, Teak made his way back to the ramshackle housing he called home. The wooden walls groaned with the evening breeze, and the roofing let out low whistles from where the wind came in. It was a crude existence, one that offered little respite from the harsh realities of life on the plantation.

Teak collapsed onto his makeshift bed, his muscles throbbing with exhaustion. Despite the weariness that his tired body felt, he couldn’t get himself to sleep. His mind buzzed with thoughts of the world beyond the wooded fence that surrounded the plantation, Jargens' words also echoed tormentingly in his mind. He just reminded himself that such thoughts were dangerous, in this place thoughts like those were swiftly crushed beneath the iron fist of their master. Although he couldn’t help but return to his friends' very words, he was drawn to the ideal of being free, but at what cost would it come to him if they were caught? If Jargen was caught?

  Tomorrow, he’ll try to talk his friend out of it, whether it was his own fear of all the “what ifs” or what he knows to be true here on the plantation. He would be a terrible friend to just let Jargen get himself beaten or worse killed!

  Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.

[knightskeeper]

WIP on upcoming peice

Boredom racked my brain as I kicked my legs back and forth on the grey fabric chair I was sitting on. I watched my legs go from underneath the chair to back out in front of me, desperate to entertain myself in any way I could. Once that became boring, I let out an exaggerated sigh before ceasing to kick my legs and looked up at the black and white clock hanging on the beige-colored wall. The hands on the clock had barely moved since the last time I looked, and I couldn’t help but feel mocked by the feint slow ticking. I then fixed my gaze on the door next to the clock, it would have practically blended into the wall if it hadn’t been for the black label plate in the upper part of it. I could recognize the horses pulling the carriage anywhere, I knew it well from the notebooks and folders my mom brought home from time to time. “Wells Fargo Breakroom” It read. Impatience growing, I daydreamed about hearing the tapping of my mother's heels leading up to the breakroom and her bursting through the door with a smile on her face, and her saying those magic words.

“Let’s go home, sweetie.” She’d speak.

Although my daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a deafening buzz. Looking around the room, past what seemed to be an ocean of boring white round tables and the same grey fabric chair copied and pasted. My eyes set upon a prehistoric-looking vending machine that seemed shoved between the back counter and a black fridge that looked just as crusty as the vending machine.

“Alright, Mr. Vending Machine. You’ve got my attention” I muttered to myself.

Interest peaked, I hopped off the fabric chair and made my way to the back of the room. My shoes made an audible Thwack noise against the discolored white while I made my way, however, I couldn’t help but look around the room as I made my way to the vending machine. No wonder my mom was always so tired whenever she came home from work, this room was just as lifeless as the beige color that lined it! The only pictures hanging on the walls were either the same horses pulling the carriage, or some variation of a butterfly, flower combo! Not to mention the whole room smelled like the inside of an old book. I scrunched my face in dissatisfaction, and the increasing hum of that darned machine the closer I got to it, wasn’t helping.

Alas, I finally made it to the vending machine, the front glass panel had a thin layer of dust along the rim, with visible dry streaks from whatever cleaner they used to “clean” this thing. Within it was an old yellow lightbulb that made all the treats it held look washed out and unpleasant. The buttons of A through G, and 1 through 9 looked equally aged and dirty. Some of the buttons were so worn you couldn’t even tell what letter or number they were supposed to be.

[knightskeeper]

The Thorns That Sprout

Authors Note: I just needed to vent a little, I'm doing ok though!

 To my dearest beloved, it’s not your fault, I want this to be clear to you. It seems as of late that thorns have encrusted your once soft heart, times have changed. We have changed. For better or for worse, I’m not too sure my dear. Despite this I yearn to feel close to you, even if that means these thorns of yours prick my skin. Even if it means my blood will leak and my tears will flow, and upon the ground they’ll bloom with the flowers of your unsaid apologies.

    For I wish to tear down your thorns, to feel the once gentle love I’ve missed these past months. To experience the softness of your kisses upon my skin and the warmth of your body enveloping mine. To not have to provoke a reaction to gain the favor of your attention, whether it be your body mimicking a warmth that once was. Or to be played sieged upon by pent-up wrath of faults not my own. Despite the pricks upon my skin and the venom in my veins from your thorns. The echoes of your love still play in my head and my memories like a siren’s song, drawing me to you even though I know those are the songs of what once was.

Although, I cling to the belief that you still feel my love for you sweetheart. For when I hold your cold hands, set a kiss upon your lips, or lay with you upon our bed; I pray to our God that you feel the warmth of my love. That it spreads to your heart, and that you can feel the immense Love and care I have for you. That it flushes across your body like the warmth of the setting sun on the horizon. Or for when I retract away, that you still feel the love from where my skin lingered upon yours. That you still feel the electric shocks of excitement in your chest and the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

However, I know my love that you are not the only one at fault, for I know that I too have contributed to this ache between us. Perhaps I could’ve been more understanding, more supportive of your hopes and dreams. I could’ve lifted you a little higher or cheered you on a bit louder.

I could’ve done more for you.

I could’ve been a better lover to you, for I always said it was you and I against this world and yet, I have found myself starting to sprout the very thorns you have too. I try desperately to tear them away from my heart, I don’t want to become cold, I don’t want to become angry, I don’t want to stop loving you. Yet with my thorns thrown upon the ground, and an oozing heart, I cling to you with these bloodied hands. I fear that while trying to save myself from this drowning feeling, I am dragging you down with me.

You’ve told me before “your love is too much”, and I apologize, I don’t mean to bomb you in affections, I just want to know you still feel something too.

I Love you sweetheart, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.

[knightskeeper]

As the rain falls 2.0

Authors Note: I went back and edited the text, and added some more details and history to the characters.

The subjects of the Beast kingdom hurriedly gathered themselves, slinking away into the nearest buildings and shops to shield themselves from the sheets of rain that fell upon the kingdom. This night was particularly darker, the full moon being engulfed in dark angry clouds, a night like this could make anyone seek the refuge of the warm indoors. Although, unlike the rest of the subjects, two figures made their way down the kingdom’s empty streets, seemingly unbothered by the onslaught of droplets falling from the sky. The occasional glass torches being the only thing illuminating their venture in the streets of the kingdom.

            The quiet tapping of hooves came to a stop as the shorter of the two beasts seemed to pause for a moment, his dark hooded cloak was soaked at this point, seeming to cling to his shoulders as the water weight pulled it down. He couldn’t help but give a light shiver, the pricks of the cold rain assaulting whatever skin he had that wasn’t covered in wool or by his soaked cloak. Maroon colored eyes looked up at the sturdy structures that lined either side of the street, the candlelight inside the window being the only indication of life within.

“Why go inside?” He asked, turning to face his vulpine-like friend, “Why not enjoy the calmness the rain brings?”  The Taller shadow had stopped walking to wait for his friend, the rain made his golden fur feel heavy, and he didn’t dare think about the possible rust it would bring to his armor. The feeling of discomfort of being out in the wet cold growing heavy in his chest, but he didn’t dare show it, the burdens of a knight are theirs and theirs alone. His ears perked upon hearing his friend’s inquiry, he wasn’t surprised by his question, given his Lamb-like friend wasn’t part of this civilized kingdom. The Outlands, the territory beyond the capital’s protective walls had very different mannerisms, outlanders needed to fend for themselves, live off the land and had one objective. Survive. Given the drastic change in scenery, he had been anticipating some questions during their stay in the Kingdoms capital.  

“Thats just not how it is around here, it’s hard to explain but the rain brings sickness, cold, and- “The tall beast was cut off.

“So, you’re telling me they’re scared of it? “His friend questioned.

“Lambsly, that’s not what- “Lambsly snorted, cutting his sentence short. Irritation littered his features, rectangular pupils seeming to focus on one of the many torches scattered on the sides of the street.

“Of course it wasn’t...” he muttered bitterly; the rest of the sentence caught underneath his breath.

The taller figure couldn’t help but press his ears flat against his head, as he watched his friend shake his head in utter disapproval. what was he supposed to say? That’s just how it was around here, it’s different within the walls than it was in the outlands.  That’s what he grew up being told, and as a knight of this kingdom he was not to question it.  He just didn’t understand! Why was Lambsy getting so worked up about it?

“That’s what I don’t seem to understand about you “civilized” folk” Lambsly started. “You can all live so sophisticatedly and yet you can’t learn to appreciate something as simple as rain? The coming of the wet season is something my people pray for Sol! You know that!” Lambsly exclaimed, turning to face the taller beast while making hand motions toward him.

“You don’t think I know that?!” Sol barked “Who do you think convinced General Firas to allow the deliverance of supplies to the outer villages of Pumbrook?!” A low growl emitted from Sol’s throat.

The two young beasts look at one another, the tension of the scene unfolding getting out of hand. This wasn’t between them personally, but the animosity was between their territories and would probably be a permanently sore subject that plagued their friendship. Sol took a deep breath trying to de-escalate the situation.

“I stuck my neck out for you because you’re my friend” He said calmly, Trailing his golden eyes from Lambsly to the growing puddle in the middle of the cobblestone street.

“You wouldn’t have had to, if your precious capital didn’t pillage those supplies first.” Lambsly shot back, venom lacing his words.  

Sol’s face saddened, as images of the outer villages plagued by famine, and their only food being taken as tax by the capital ran through his head. He could feel Lambsly’s intense gaze on him, but he knew what he said was true. He wouldn’t have had to go out of his way to plead with his father to spare some sort of supplies, if the capital didn’t take it in the first place.  

“I know”

It was all he could mutter.

“Whatever” Lambsly scoffed, Temper still riled up “Let’s just get back to kaighi at the tavern.”

Lambsly done with the conversation, continued walking, not thinking to check if Sol was following him. The echoes of their bickerment being canceled out by the sound of hooves off in the distance and the beating rhythm of the rain.

[knightskeeper]

As the rain falls

            The subjects of the kingdom hurriedly gathered themselves, slinking away into the nearest buildings to shield themselves from the sheets of rain that fell upon the kingdom. Unlike the rest of the subjects, two figures made their way down the kingdom’s empty streets, seemingly unbothered by the onslaught of droplets falling from the sky. The occasional glass torches being the only thing illuminating the streets of the kingdom.

            The shorter of the two figures seemed to pause for a moment, looking up at the sturdy structures that lined either side of the street, the candlelight inside the window being the only indication of life within.

“Why go inside?” He asked, turning to face his friend, “Why not enjoy the calmness the rain brings?”   The Taller shadow had stopped walking to wait for his friend, although he wasn’t surprised by his question, given that his friend wasn’t part of this civilized kingdom, and the mannerisms of his homeland were very different. He had been anticipating some questions during their stay here.

“That's just not how it is around here, the rain brings sickness, cold, and- “The tall figure was cut off.

“So, you’re telling me they’re scared of it? “His friend questioned.

“Lambsly, that’s not what- “Lambsly snorted, cutting his sentence short. Irritation littered his features.

The taller figure couldn’t help but watch his friend shake his head in utter disapproval, what was he supposed to say? That’s just how it was, and he didn’t understand why Lambsy was getting so worked up about it.

“That’s what I don’t seem to understand about you “civilized” folk” Lambsly started. “You can all live so sophisticatedly and yet you can’t learn to appreciate something as simple as rain? The coming of the wet season is something my people pray for Sol! You know that!” Lambsly exclaimed.

Sol’s face saddened, as images of the outer villages plagued by famine, and their only food being taken as tax by the kingdom ran through his head.

“I know”

“Whatever” Lambsly scoffed “Let’s just get back to kaighi at the tavern.”

Lambsly done with the conversation, continued walking, not thinking to check if Sol was following him. The echoes of their bickerment were canceled out by the beating rhythm of the rain.

[knightskeeper]

A Porcelain Rose

It was around 3pm on Saturday, Sun high in the sky spreading its warmth on the cozy neighborhood, the sky was still somewhat cloudy, remnants of the past rainy days. The earthy musk of rain dissipating and the fresh scent of blooming flowers arising in the air, marking the dawn of the spring season. Although the air was still a bit humid that didn’t stop Mocha and her group of girl friends from having a tea party in her back garden.

The garden itself was of a decent size, not too big yet not small enough to not have guests over. White wooden gates overgrown with golden pathos vines guarded the area on all sides, and her oak tree in the outer part of her garden gave some relief from the sun’s rays, adding to the cozy cottage vibe. Assorted floral plants and foliage scattered the area, making it a colorful and lively sight, a welcoming view compared to the town. The scattered plants and her young oak tree gave off a calm rustling in the relaxed breeze of midday, the plants tune adding to the songs of birds that sometimes pass by.

The ladies, Laughing and gossiping with one another sat at a metal round white table. The table itself had vine-like swirls that made up the design on top of it, and a deep purple runner with golden embroidery in the shape of roses going across the mid-section of the table. Thin white plates were spread evenly around with its partnering cup, each teacup had hand painted purple rose designs, adorning gold along the rims. Mocha worried that maybe the tea set was a bit too fancy, but it had been a treasured handmade gift from her friend Majora. She did own her own pottery shop which was very popular in this small town, and the fact she took the time out of her busy schedule to make this set, made it feel even more special. So, Mocha couldn’t help but show it off whenever it was her turn to host the monthly tea party. Not in a snotty way, but she hoped that the other ladies could appreciate its beauty and sentiment just as much as she does.

Her favorite part was how Majora captured the roses in the porcelain paint detail, she could tell that the tiny detail was taken from her own love of the romantic flower. There was just something about them she loved very much- like how the flowers themselves were colorful and delicate, yet their leaves and stems were armored by thorns. Or maybe it was the fact that depending on the color of the flower head meant different things, Such as red for love or Yellow for friendship. They weren’t just one thing, they had so much meaning, they were delicate yet armed; In a way Mocha couldn’t help but compare herself to the beautiful flower, often joking that roses were her “Spirit Animal”.

 She even raised her own rose bushes, straight from seeds, something that she was still very much proud of and would often tell new visitors whenever they saw her bushes. The bushes in question were intricately placed around the garden, mostly hugging the center where she hosted gatherings, each beautifully decorated with lushes’ blooms. However, all the bushes were not the same color, so she had varieties of- red, white, pink, yellow and her favorite, lavender. Each color of rose corresponded to her friend’s Favorite color, and she always made sure to give roses to her friends when it was the blooming season, a way of showing her love for them, a friendship bracelet in floral form.

Taking her attention off the porcelain tea set, Mocha was able to catch up with the stories being told by her friends. Little snippets from their years-long friendships, or just everyday life with work or out with their husbands. Tales of the times spent apart from one another, letting each other take peeks into different lives, a fine way of catching up during their monthly outings. It made the ladies all feel connected, as if their busy lives and their respected careers didn’t keep them apart and they just saw one another yesterday. With the chattering dying down, it was Mocha’s turn to share, and with a huge grin on her face she enthusiastically shared her stories with the friend group, reciting moments with customers at her garden nursery, never missing the chance to exaggerate the outburst customers had; or the overall chaos that ensued maintaining the garden and its elegant inhabitants.

However, while Mocha and the other ladies were focused on her over the top storytelling, the friends all failed to detect that a certain pottery maker had slink away some time ago. Mocha continues to blabber on about her new discoveries in the town, her friends seeming to look at her with excited grins and subtle little happy dances in their chairs as they looked at her from across the table. Becoming somewhat suspicious of their actions and the sudden quietness of the ladies, Mocha couldn’t help but just stop talking and stare at them, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips.

“Do I have something on my face?” Mocha joked, trying to make light heart of the situation.

Before she knew it, Hands came up and covered her eyes from behind, Majora’s missing presence being alarmingly present now. As fast as her eyes were covered, they were as quickly uncovered, and Mocha was met with a personal sized Princess Cake, her favorite type of dessert. Overwhelmed with happiness, Mocha couldn’t help but look at the Swedish pastry in awe, its outer marzipan layer was a lovely shade of pastel green lightly dusted with powered sugar, the base of the cake being bordered with small dollops of whipped cream. The best part was that in the middle of the cake was a small lavender marzipan rose.

“Happy Birthday Mocha!!” All her friends cheered out.

Mocha couldn’t help but over thank her friends, giving each of them hugs and insisting that they all share the wonderfully sweet dessert. The ladies politely declined, Majora quieting them all with a simple raise of her hand.

“There’s one last thing” She paused, glancing at the other ladies, all of them having knowing grins on their faces. “A tea set, let alone a tea party, is never complete without the center piece”. With that, Majora reached for something under the table, out of Mocha’s view, before standing back up with a Magnificent Porcelain rose and a matching pot. Each an exquisite shade of lavender delightfully decorated with gold accents. Handing it to Mocha, Mocha could hardly believe that her friends would go so out of their way for her, for making her such a meaningful gift.  

Mocha, tightly hugging the porcelain rose started crying out of happiness, her friends caught off guard by the waterworks quickly made their way to her. All the ladies gathering around the birthday girl and enveloping her in a group hug, all wishing Mocha a happy birthday. Who could ask for better friends, they may not talk all the time or give gifts to each other as frequently as others might but, this was their form of showing their love for her. Like the way Mocha gave them roses, her friends gave her ones too, it may not be in floral form, but a porcelain one was more than she could ask for.

[knightskeeper]

Through the Reflection

I Couldn't help but study myself in my reflection, I'm not sure if it was just the lighting in the room or the tiredness in my eyes but, something seemed off. Then again there's always something off… As I stood in my Bathroom gaze locked on the less-than-clean mirror, I couldn't help but say aloud, "Surely there is something wrong with me". As those words left my lips, my reflection shifted, at first I simply thought it was a trick of the light, or maybe my tired brain was pulling tricks on me.

However, you can surely guess how surprised I was when my reflection blinked back at me, lively eyes now nothing but soulless dark orbs. It stared intensely at me, almost as if looking deep into my soul, studying it. A creeping smile pulled at its lips, while dark tar-like bile leaked from its mouth. The lights in the reflection flickered despite my own working perfectly, dark void-like shadows crept up on the backmost wall of the reflection. Slowly making their way towards the frontmost part of the bathroom before snuffing out the doppelgangers' lights altogether. All except one which acted as a spotlight on the other me, it wanted my attention, and it then started tearing its hair out in whole chunks. The clumps of hair would then disperse in a flurry of Black butterflies, all flying with no particular destination, although just as quickly as they took flight, they would drop to the floor, dead.  Before I could even grasp the horrors before me, a brief yet stern knock startled me, followed by a hushed gasp.

"Hurry up in there! You'll miss the Bus!" my mother warned. Heart Racing, I looked back to the mirror, expecting something except...

It was just me.

[knightskeeper]

The Lonely Stop

Standing on the sidewalk, I could hear the revving of the cars passing by mixed with car honks and the horn of the train blowing in the distance. The people hastily driving past the streetlight to their respective destinations, the pedestrians bopping to their music in their headphones, and those sitting waiting for the train caught up in their thoughts oblivious to the city singing its tune. The surrounding mixture of the station lights overhead and the headlights of the ongoing cars seemed busy compared to the dark city surrounding this location.

The towering historic structures above were dark and quiet, almost as if they were asleep, their normal inhabitants gone for the day. Although despite their life seeming to have bled away into the nightlife, some buildings seemed to thrive! They weren’t right next to me since this train stop was tucked away into its private strip but, they were close enough to see in the horizon, past this quiet district. Unlike the bright obnoxious lights at this train stop, these buildings' neon lights and animated screens that adorned them were the center of attention. A beautiful contrast against the night sky, the light of these buildings bounced off the dark grey clouds that surrounded them, giving the illusion of them glowing.

 It was a wonderful scene, although the peace that I felt standing at this stop was more comforting. Simply standing, and waiting, listening to this city's song, the cracks in the sidewalk telling its own story of the hundreds of travelers that have passed through here in its time running. Just like the sidewalk the ironwork of the seats and signs had signs of rust, their paint chipped away after years of people's touch., some lights further down the way flickered, fighting for life. The rattling of the stops’ structure and the tired squealing of the train's brakes seemed to break the trance of the people around, hurried footsteps leaving their rooted spots and huddling to where the train doors opened.

It was not my train, so my trio were the stops’ remaining travelers, but when our train eventually came. I couldn’t help but look at that lonely stop through the train window, no travelers keeping it company and seeming to be trapped in a time before this one.

[knightskeeper]

Lone Mountain Trail

    This Rocky Mountain Trail held many memories that were dear to Kaighi, taking a deep breath, and smelling the scent of the mountain lilies mixed with wet earth brought her back to a memory.

     It was some years ago back when she was still young, and it was the first time her father had taken her out on this trail. Her father kept her close since this narrow path was along the edge of the mountain; a dangerous way but a fruitful one, her father always said the journey would be rough, but the destination was worth it. At the time, she thought he was referring to the path, and just brushed it off to nonsense.

     During this time the trail was lush and full of life, it was rainy season so the plant life on the mountain was in full bloom, the lovely mountain lilies being no exception. The journey with her father and the beauty of the lush foliage gave Kaighi a sense of peace, a core memory that will forever set itself in her heart.

    However, this year would be the first time she transverses this path alone. The year had been tough, with her father getting injured in the mines and the constant storms ravaging the areas, it was a miracle this lonely trail still existed. Although not without its wounds. The storm's high winds had uprooted the mountain lilies, bushes, and other small foliage leaving the trail tattered, bare, and crumbly looking. The edge of the trail was falling apart at the seams, Kaighi didn’t dare step too close, out of fear if she were to step too close to the edge it would give out right under her.  Large stones were scattered along the narrow walkway, clearly the aftermath of landslides from excess water sliding down the mountain. Looking ahead, she figured Some needed to be either pushed out of the way or need to be scaled over entirely.

    Looking at the path, that sense of peace she once felt was replaced with uncertainty, worry, and fear. Although the need to get the Ores from the end of the trail was what was pushing her. She needed to do this, for her family, for her father, for herself…

    Suddenly What her father said all those years ago made sense now.