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[sturmruhig]

Fortuna

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How awful it is to live in a world where things begin.

Where something always sets another in motion. Where love and compassion only promises sadness and grief. Where sadness and grief only leads to pain and suffering.

How beautiful it is to live in a world where things end.

Where something always comes from another. Where pain and suffering can be rendered into love and compassion. Where love and compassion can flicker and fade into sadness and grief.

How lucky we are to live in this world.

Where the only constant is that things change. That stars will fizzle out and die, that the seed planted and tended will grow. That the wounds will heal, and that new ones will form.

How truly lucky we are to live, and die.

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[sturmruhig]

Salvation

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"I had hoped man would turn the leaf after Noah. After my Chosen settled." He murmured next to me.

Sighing, the words left my mouth without thought, "And yet here we are, in a dead world," I could feel his eyes upon my face as I stammered out the rest "full of dead things, dead people, and a dead God."

His eyes seemed to dull at that. His face aging and the shine leaving his skin as he spoke, "Perhaps, I should have stepped in earlier. Maybe if I had made you all better."

I couldn't help it, hearing those those words from His mouth, to hear his audacity! "Perhaps?! You should have! Who are you to sit and judge us? We were just fine without you, and your ways. We were looking towards the future, towards everything! Then you come along and ruin it!" I could see his face darken his eyes smolder, I felt a small victory at that. Take that you selfish cunt. He advanced footsteps sharp, but before he could reach me.

"Ah the best for last, I knew it would be entertaining." My and His confusion at the interruption was quick to fade as we both turned to see our speaker, and probably, most likely my savior. Their body was thin, and face covered by shadow. And in those hands of pale white rested a farm tool of old. I could almost feel the grin in its voice, "Now then, let's get to business. One immortal and one mortal soul to go, Chop chop."

Its words seemed to almost physically strike Him, and his protest was swift, "I am not yours to take, there is much work to be done. Creatures to create, planets to mold, laws to be set."

They seemed to rock back and forth on their heels for a second, "And yet, that's no longer your job. You parts over big G. It's no longer your plaything." And before He could make a single rebuttal He was gone.

I chuckled nervous as hell but piped up, "I don't suppose you have a ride out of here? It's seems like a rough neighborhood around here." Ah hell I'm gonna be disappeared. And yet, They didn't.

They seemed to sigh lowly and collect their thoughts before speaking, "You know you were higher up on the list. The collection order that is. I saved you for last though." They seemed to roll something in their free hand for a sec before tossing it. And so I dived for it, and thank you old man for all those years wanting to make you proud, cuz they paid off here and now. In my hands rested a locket, a very familiar one. "It's time. They are waiting your know, don't want to miss the chili cook-off." The words rolled off their tongue but I could barely hear them, my focus was on what laid in my hands. I could remember it clearly, every chip, every scratch, every scuff. And just like momma showed me, I hit its button. Tears puddled, and face twitched at its contents. Family, before the end. Home, before devastation. I forced the words out, each one like splintered glass in my throat, "You promise?"

They sagged for a moment before crossing the distance, "I do."

Two little words left their mouth, and so I reached out my hand to them. And before I knew it "Come on you big dummy! Momma is making her spicy chili and Nana said she'd bake with us if we are quick! Come on come on!"

I was saved.

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[sturmruhig]

Avalon

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When I awoke I was a man grown. I had lived decades, known death like a fevors chant. And yet I had forgotten all but the faintest touches of such moments. They were all but stripped of me upon this life. In this moment, I was born to the name of a knight. One who knelt before a king who was promised. And yet of all his knights I bore not the loyal and just, nor the grand and bold. No, I carried the mournful. The tragedy. I remember learning this. I remember knowing this, as true and right as knowing the fate of fools. My name was fit, all due to this moment I lived. Yet my lives weighted me like stone. I had died many times. Many many times. I can almost recall them as if they are but a breath away, but they escape like dust in wind. I feel them all nonetheless. I do so dearly wish I didn't. I could rest with ease if so. Perhaps I could mourn no longer. I could lay what is dead to ground and cry no more. But what I wish and what happens are separate and often opposite. This is my truth. One that is as straight and narrow as my arrows. My open eyes bleed with dried teardrops, my heart oozes with unsung hymns, but my mouth knows no lord above, no punishment below. I sing no praises to creation. I lament for only that place where heroes go. Where faerie fly and our lord went to die. I seek paradise. But I know my mournful soul knows not the way home.

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[sturmruhig]

Supplicant

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As I flicked though the old yellowed pages of the book I found that I was basked in soft red light. Startled I slammed my head on the metal above me with a clang and a few choice words. With a hand over my heart I tried to calm myself. Taking deep breaths I finally controlled myself. Now curious I peaked my head over the book that in my panic I had shielded myself with. There sitting innocently infront of me a big red button, with large blocky text on it. Squinting at it I processed what it read. “ACTIVATE” hesitating for a moment I poked the button. Nothing. Pushing harder this time the button depressed. And with it I found my world alight. All around me screens lit up and hummed. Now outright panicking I frantically searched for a way out of this strange room. And suddenly the lights dimmed and the view changed. Where once there was numbers and lights flashing there was forest and stone. I pressed my face against the screens, my eyes greedily devouring the sight before me. Spotting the path I had walked upon earlier I sighed in relief. I could still find my way home, after I got out of this room that is.

I was not prepared for the rumble, nor was I prepared for the forest floor to grow smaller with a hiss of air and the soft mellow tone of something unworldly. The air rushed out my lungs with a shrill noise. The book fell out of my hand and hit the seat with a thud. My eyes were not prepared to see the horizon. One of reds, oranges, and destruction.

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[sturmruhig]

Void

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Hollow. Empty. Hungry. The hellscape that flows over my vessel is as such. I am lost in a endless sea of vibrant blue, swirling white, and colors that my eyes cannot commit to memory. The search for a escape has been long, and tireless indeed. My steel flesh has long gone pale, my lunar heart long since still. Yet still I search. My mission is not yet finished, nor is my ship able to find a new one. Though this darks my spirit, I am proud to know my vessel is not one of death, but one of salvation. I will scour this hell endlessly, till hope itself withers. I will save those lost souls that call. I can still hear their howls with every breath. My shadow will sit the helm and I shall man the gun. The course is clear. It is louder now, their plea. Their cries for aid. Thus I answer, "Who waits for the shadow."

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[sturmruhig]

Rome

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"Walk on, noble hero... all roads lead home." That's what I've been told, by both the Coyotes and the Iron Lord's. I've come to a conclusion however. Home is closer than you think. With each settlement I pass through, with each warlord gunned down like a dog in the street. These people don't need things like us. Us risen are blights upon man. This I will change. And so I dredge this cloak in blue, and stain it with red. The Iron Lord's, the Coyotes, These Guardians they call themselves. They have paved the roads. Yet not all go the path. This I will change. My rifle now rife with blood and spikes with set the course. Either my brothers of light shall be set upon nobility or they shall meet their final end. He Who Speaks disapproves of this road I walk. Good. The Vanguard claim my existence is myth. Good. This path is rife with death and misery. But it is a road I shall walk, one not for me, but those to come. All roads lead home Guardian, even if one's home is found in hell. If you find this cache then my journey has ended. My road has been a long one and though I never found home, I am proud. To know that my brothers and sisters feared me enough to walk the path. If you would indulge me one last time. I have a request. From one trail blazer to another. Remember my name.

-Remulus

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[sturmruhig]

Embers

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Where once there was fire

Now there is a pyre

Made by the cold & endlessly tired.

Where once there was a voice

Now there is silence

Cast away by hunger & claimed by briars.

Where once there was swiftness

Now there is pain

Suffered in lonesome & fueled by the rain.

Where once there was sight

Now there is blindness

A fading of light and closing of heartiness.

It burns and it breaks

it screams for a taste.

To let it take hold

And be free from this pain.

But it lies, it lies

You can’t let it take.

So let it give you all of it’s hate

With open arms and baited breath

Hold it close and let it rest.

It sinks in deep, bottled in glass

Quick to rise long to last.

But it’s better this way

Yes indeed

Chain it down

And drown it deep

Or it might burn through you.

And make you weep

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[sturmruhig]

Hourglass

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It’s cold and hungry. I try to tell them. It eats and eats, leaving nothing behind. But they tell me it’s fine and dandy. But they lie and lie. They don't know it like I. It’s like a pit to nothing, a gluttonous maw that yearns. I feel myself hollowing as it hungers for more. I’ve yet to find something to satisfy it. But, I do know it doesn’t like the burning, lingering flames. The smoldering echos of emotion. Its’s slow to eat them whole, merely nibbling on such things. And when it does finish its meal, it takes something else with it. I can’t always tell what it is. I've merely forgotten. A memory here, a face there. It slips away like sand in my fingers. Ash in the wind as they say. Maybe... hopefully, it will eat it’s self someday. Maybe just maybe I will feel human again.

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[sturmruhig]

Nightmare

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"Bye Momma! I'm heading off to class!"

[Rap Ta-] "Don't forget your glasses Rell!"

Nodding quickly and rushing out the dorm I walked towards class. Melica had told us that we would be learning about Eternalism this solar cycle. Though I won't admit it to Momma it confuses me. Why worry about what didn't happen when you have to deal with did happen? [T-] As I walked into class and got ready for the day Melica called out, "Right on time, like always! I can't wait-" [Rap Tap Ta-] "to see what we'll accomplish on the Zariman today!" Already starting to tune her out I turned towards the door hoping for a interruption. And it was just my luck when all of our datapads chimed and lit up. Great, a suprise exam. [TAP] Feeling heat in my chest at that, I tried to puzzle together what I was feeling. Momma did said I need to learn how to not use the emote cards. Lost in thought I never heard the warning. [RA-] "-2, 1, Jumping." Then everything went wrong. [RAP TAP TAP] Hours pasted. We boarded the door with our desk. I felt hollow, like a cup of water dumped into the sink. [TA-] "Don't worry, everything will be ok." No it won't, He's already watching us. [TESTING US]

I think we failed the exam.

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[sturmruhig]

Cold Dark & Very Gentle Place

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Thou'rt Ash. So I wish to tell thee all. This is my great canvas. Upon it I wish to paint a picture. Of a cold, dark, and very gentle place. A place unlike thou’s own land. A place unlike mine own land. My painting shall not be twisted by Lords nor seized by kings. It shall not be feted by rot nor burdened by abyss. It shall make a goodly home for all. Even for one such as thou. And so I would hope for thou to gaze upon it with thine own eyes. Alas that will remain a dream. Your fate lays elsewhere. In the crags of the end. Where the sands of time swallow the world. I do wish thou best of luck in thine journey. However, I have a single request from thou if you would listen. Come to me one final time. Seek me out when the mountains crumble and the rivers dry. I do dearly wish for thou to see my painting when it is done. In very fact I shall bequeath a gift upon thee if thou does'st come. A final farewell of sorts to you. From one being of purpose to another.

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[sturmruhig]

Ego

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Pt-1: Shatter

We all remember that day, when the golden glow flickered across the sky and died. I was but a young and naive paige then. A child with aspersions of grandiose and heroism. To partake in adventures and rank amongst the greatest knights! To slay the monsters and come home to waving banners! Ah the fondness I feel for those days. Yet they all came to a halting stop when the world as I knew it shattered like glass.

Pt-2: Halo

It was those days after that changed me the most, I was not but a lost lamb. My sire had left in the morn. Citing a decree from our lord in Stormveil, yet I was left behind? Why did my lord leave me behind? Was I not be his squire? Was he not to be mine teacher? And, so I was left to pick up the pieces of my own dreams. I waited five days and four nights and upon the next sunrise, something changed in that meager souls life. One that even to this day I can recall with the greatest pride. There on the doorstep of the meager fort my lord and his host of servants and soldiers called theirs was a troop. Their armor shining proudly in their bronze hue, their great reapers and spears honed to a point and eager to earn their marks. Seeing the great tassels fluttering in the mild winds of our home and the soft whispers of mist upon their winged helms. They had but one question, "We who serve our Lady, the greatest of the blood of Marika, ask thee! Who will join us? Who will pledge their arms to the glory of reclaiming the world?" That day when the bronze knights left it was with only one addition to their ranks. A lowly child with hopes of grandeur. And so began mine journey, ah I can see it now. The story of Halicos and his great captain Finley! A tale most delightful, I hope...

Pt-3: Banner

From the woods and plains of my home to rolling hills of the plateau. From the outskirts of the great lakes to the rocky crags we marched. We fought. We won. Under a sigil of the red Valkyrie we stomped out those who would bring ruin to our already broken lands. For those who rejected a goodly death our Lady armed us with the blessings of her brother to return them to the roots. For those who aspired for scales our Lady handed us spears to pierce their hide. For those whose magic was mighty our Lady taught us barriers of gold. And so we fought. But as we fought we noticed it. The eldest of us were hit the hardest, yet they knew of it from the very start. The curse we bore. It was then when Ostarius fell to it did they inform all of it. Of the burden our Lady bore from birth. And as we all looked at each other with uncertainty and distrust did our Lady exit her command tent. It was there she swore of her ignorance to the curse spreading to us. And that all who wish to leave may do so. Our great Lady in her sorrow then knelt before all of us and spoke of her failure to protect is from it. And it was then and there we knew. That our curse was worth bearing. After all who better to serve than one such as this? Our fair Lady who beckons a better tomorrow?

Pt-4: Crimson

In those days after we had a new name. The Cleanrot knights. Named so after the curse the eats away at our being. Now mantled with wings of red and with renewed purpose, we had a new campaign to march. Word of another child who bore a shard. One who did not hide like his kin. He who was called the greatest commander of man. He who conquered the stars. The Red Lion. And so we cut a path. From our camp in my home of ole to the heart of Caelid, did we fight. The Redmanes were warriors most pleasant. Many of nights after a battle we would met. To reclaim the dead. To partake in stories and woes. To share in our deeds. We did not hate eachother. We were simply enemies of chance. Their lord was a threat to our Lady's plans. It was that simple. And so they died, and at times so did we. But all of that changed when our Lady met their lord in battle. Upon the great field in the heart of Caelid did they cross swords. Each blow shook the very roots of the world. Us lesser beings could do naught but stand in shock and terror. Their battle waged for three days and four nights. Taking them from the heart of the nation to the far shore. And it was their battle drew to a close as the morning sun rose. Even from miles out I could see the bloom. The petals of a scarlet flower that reached across the nation. And as it did so all I could do was stare in horror. The very land around me warped and changed around me. The green wilted. The sky blackened. Even the animals felt its effects. The lucky ones died in seconds. Others were twisted into new forms before my very eyes.

Pt-5: Numb

We patrolled endlessly afterwards. Cutting down everything that moved. Even our own brothers and sisters at times, for they were far past the point of return. I know not the amount of time since the bloom. Rumors have spread that our Lady was comatose. I pray that if those words are true that she recovers quickly. We need her guidance now more than ever. The Redmanes joined us in our efforts in containing the curse. They are calling it the scarlet rot. A fitting name. One sure to spread like the very thing. But I can't help but feel hollow. We all knew of our curse and it's weight. But to see the true reality of it brought to bear upon a innocent nation and its people? It feels like a sin most heinous.

Pt-6: Putrefy

The Redmanes are all dead. Well, at very least all here in this accursed swamp. Captain Finley was able to flee with our fair Lady. May her recovery be swift. We are down to only fourteen knights. All others have had to be cut down. Only one did so willingly. Some of us wept afterwards. Yesterday we saw a great beast looking over the cliff side at us. It had fur the color of ash and a head twice the size of its body. It retreated after some time. Knowledge has been given to the other camps. This morning as the rising sun peaked over the canyon walls I felt its effects. The bile in my stomach, the twitching in my fingers, the ache in my spine. Tonight as the moon hangs over us I will have my brothers cut me down. And it is with the greatest pleasure that I insure that I won't be forgotten. After this is written these letters will be sealed away in these ruins. So that one day when another comes across it that they may know of my name and journey. So I beg of thee dear reader, remember me, Halicos the Cleanrot Knight. Remember my story. For that is all I have left now...

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[sturmruhig]

We

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When we awoke they handed us suits. Told us that our queens needed us to do our duty, to fight to make our queens stronger. We would look to our rights, then our lefts. Next to us were our brothers, and together we were stronger than if we were apart.

We were told to follow so follow we did. At our destination they suited us in armor. Handed us weapons, and finally gave us knowledge. Tactics, basic weapon handling, and so much more. All of it dumped into our minds. Some died, foaming from their mouths others blood dripping from every hole visible. Those who survived were marched to the next room. There we were ordered into ships. They told us we were going to fight the enemies of our queens and that we would bring glory to them or die trying.

When we landed we were met with apathetic gazes. It did not fill us with joy. We soon learned that we were to be part of the defense force in the region, and that we were going to be sent to the one closest to the lake in the center of the region.

For months we watched helplessly as our fellow brothers were hunted endlessly by the demons. And night after night the ghost would take even more. Despair was soon to be upon us. After all if our older more experienced brothers were constantly reaped like crop how would we fair? We who had only fought off the smallest of the specters of the night?

It has been a full six months of service here and our number grows smaller. We have had many younger brothers join us. But of us that have been here longer we only number eight, once we were of one hundred. We wept only once together of such matters. Our commanders tell us that we bring great honor to our queens. We are silent on such matters.

It is a cold night upon the lake. We are alert though, the ghosts and demons could be anywhere. As a great light blooms in the sky none of us ponder it. That was our mistake. It was not one of our brothers ships. No, it was something different. Something like… the ghosts. As we regrouped we were set upon by the creatures their numbers uncountable. The very ground shook, and with it we all crashed to the ground our worlds going dark.

I was alone. I could not hear the chatter of my brothers, I could not see their brownish lumpy armor. Where was my brothers? Brothers? Could any of you see me? I was… “Don’t Be Afraid.” And then all was red.

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[sturmruhig]

Old Friend

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Pt-1: Distortion

I remember it all, every gasp for breath as my lungs turned into puddles and reformed, every hoarse scream as my very skin turned into a material as hard as steel, every drop of blood as my limbs were torn apart inside out. I remember when I first woke in that bed believing that I would die. If only I was so lucky. As my master and long time friend sat by my side he spoke to me. I could feel the taint pulse inside my flesh with every word. My very being screamed in agony, a thousand blades of rusted steel dragging through my heart. And yet I could not scream… I remember his words vaguely, he spoke of how the plague had stolen my voice. He spoke to me within my very own mind as well. Harsh words that contrasted his soft features and gentle smile. His disarming words filtered in my ears yet his damning statements striking in my mind. He whispered many things to me in those moments as my very body was consumed, twisted, transformed. He showed me that his words were commandments upon my very being. He told me of how I was his first experiment. How I would be his weapon. My flesh his eager slave. Now and forever.

Pt-2: Chains

His first command was to play a game of Go with him. He cheated, and yet there was nothing I could do against him. No even a twitch of my fingers. His second command was also simple. Yet it was the hardest command to ever exist. “Now Old Friend, would you kindly kill your son?” And after that all I felt was rage! Anger! Sorrow! I became a mad dog not even worthy enough to fall upon his own blade!For so many years after I was blind. Yet my body moved on its own. His commands pushing this tainted cursed flesh onward. I soon was given one more command that pierced through the veil of hate. “Sleep Now Old Friend” Sleep? He could command me to sleep!? How dare he! Yet I was powerless in the shackles of my own mind. When I awoke I could no longer feel his words binding me. I thought myself free. I was wrong. I was merely broken. Well more broken. More broken than he wanted. And so he hunted me, all the way to this moonlit grove. I cut down waves of minions until I finally reached him. And yet my blade would not cut him. This tainted body would not merely apply pressure. And so I was destroyed. Blasted into a million pieces. Yet I could not help but feel happy. Maybe I would find peace in the void…

Pt-3: Crucible

And then I woke once more. To the face of a child? I could feel them at the edge of my mind, how dare they?! How dare they try to command me like that man! I escaped. Barely making it to land, I fled. I would find that man and make him suffer for his crimes. However they followed after me, and then they caught me. They knocked me down to the cold ground and soon I could feel them worm into my very being. I could feel them watch my torture. My agony, and rage. I grasped onto them and dragged them out screaming all the while… and then I ran. I ran like a coward. And yet they followed. Each time they would catch me and dive deeper into my very soul.

Pt-4: Harmonious

I could feel their soul just as easily as they could feel mine. And it feel like peace. True peace. I couldn’t help but find comfort in it. And yet I fought them. My blade would cut deep and my howls would deafen. It became our dance. A waltz of death and rage, that would finish with a bonding of souls. I could not help but find myself reaching towards them. They watched the man as he twisted my very being. They watched as my blade cut my own child in half. And they did not judge. They opened their arms and accepted me. What else could I do but fall into them? It was addictive, the void that seeped from their soul. It’s cold dark and so very peaceful void.

Pt-5: Phoenix

I did not realize it when our dance led us straight to that fateful grove. And yet I found it fitting. The place that I had been destroyed would be the place that I would finish this lovely waltz. Our blades clashed in a most delightful melody. A song of steel honed upon a thousand swings and a ocean of blood. And so I fell one final time. They stood over me victorious. I could feel as their mind merged with me once more. And for the first time in years I felt whole once more. And then HE ruined it. His disgusting vile gaze searching for a weakness he could exploit. His words like knifes to my ears. His puppets damn near impossible to count. We cut down his minions like a reaper and grain. And soon he was all alone. And yet I could not cut him. My arm would not move. I could feel his arrogance rolling off in waves. And I felt so very smug when their hand appeared on mine and PUSHED. And just like that, he was dead. We watched as his body was carried away by our foes. Yet they did not care for them. They simple reached up and picked up a piece of metal off the ground, and slotted it into the wound upon my shell. Hiding away the rage filled eye from the world. And so I swore there and then that I would be their protector, faithful and dutiful. Their sword now and forever. Their Umbra.

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[sturmruhig]

Symphony of Symmetry

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Pt-1: Rove

The soft pitter patter of the rain was contrasted by the baritone clop of boots. It was a sound all of us had grown used to these days. From one place to another we marched. The muted browns of our heavy cloaks offset by the soft reds, quiet yellows, and heavy blacks underneath. Most of us rested our tools on our shoulders, me? I held mine at my side where it belonged. Picking up my pace I could hear my brothers voice carry over the wind. He spoke of a new job. One were we would no longer be cold and hungry, and most importantly, out of this twice damned rain. Settling by his side I asked him of just where we were going. Speaking tersely and quickly he told me it was merely a good day of travel away. I could only scoff at that. Merely a day he says. The ground beneath our feet will have turned to mud and water by then. But at last it was still too good of a job to pass up. So I could only grumble softly to myself as we walked.

Pt-2: Rest

It was a cold and dreary night fit only for the most desperate and foolish. Unfortunately I guess that includes me, and this half dead band of misfits. As we settled and made camp for the night I could feel the pit in my gut grow deep.

Pt-3: Work

I hate being right, and I most definitely hate when my advice is not heeded. The soft whispers of steel through air clashed with the hissing and sharp clanging of metal meeting metal. It was a sound I wish I could have forgotten and moved past. Alas fate has deemed me it’s bitch. And so I drew the tool upon my side and waded into the thick of it. Blade singing as blood was freed from its warm prison, coating the dirt and myself as if it was spilled ink. My tool was one well cared for and despite my misgivings my body remembered the motions well. Bodies fell as if grain before a sickle. But I had grow blind to my own shortcomings, arrogant in my prowess. And as I felt pain blossom from beneath my lungs I could only chuckle wetly. A man once told me that those who killed should be prepared to be killed themselves. I had agreed with him that day. Yet as pins and needles spread from my feet and fingers and my breaths grew shallower and sharper I could only think of my regrets, of the what if’s. Of what I could have done better. But as the tears dried upon my face and the rattle of my breath finally faded I could hear a most beautiful sound. One of duality, of the good and bad, of the right and wrong. Of bright stars and a cold abyss. And it felt so right. Like a missing piece of a whole I did not know was incomplete. And so as I died I knew death. And so as I breathed again I knew life.

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[sturmruhig]

Veil

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Ah that feeling, we know it so well. Is it guilt? Or something more? We know not. We know it is our only constant companion we have in these dark tunnels. And that is enough. Even fear fades in time after all. We began as many. Naive and vainglorious fools the lot of us. Clad in steel and teethed with the blessings of the Tree. Now? Now we are the few that were once many. Now we are cloaked in ghastly mantles that sheath a hide of blackened scales. Our teeth has shattered, replaced by fangs that reap. Where once we stood tall, mountains of pride and might. Where once we walked before the Golden. Now we sculk in these depths, these tombs. We are twisted now. Our companion boring deep into our very being. We blame Her for this. For it was She who set us upon this path. We Her kin who traveled beside Her. We Her most trusted warriors. Her plot has stained our souls. We remain accursed for our loyalty. Our sin. However things have changed. She is dead. Will remain dead. She has met Destined Death and has been found wanting. How fitting. Now new One rises. Beside the One a new Lady. We are curious of this Moon and her stars. Moon who art blood of She who plotted. We know of her part in our sin. We have not forgotten. For now though, we will wait. We are patient. But should the One and their Moon be found wanting? Destined Death shall reap once more. After all, what is one more sin for our black souls?

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[sturmruhig]

Tears of A Maker

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As I sat up all I could feel was the pounding of my heart threatening to burst from my chest. I desperately searched my mind for the cause, but it was all for nought. I could not remember why my heart pounded, or why my hands were clammy. Entertaining these thoughts for a few seconds I stood, and raked my gaze across my surroundings. I was encircled by wooden giants whose tops sealed away the stars, at my feet laid soft moist blades of green that tickled my soles. I could feel panic start to set in, but then cutting across the silence that blanketed the forest, a soft voice. “I can hear your thoughts.” It spoke, “Why do you hate my creations? Did I not make you perfect?” I could hear the voice begin to break up as the voice began to sob. Gazing upward I could see a face in a break in the canopy of green her face marred by tears, and as I went to speak I saw a tear descend upon me. It’s soft blue tone swallowed me whole, and as it did the world fell away. Plunging myself and the tear into a sea of black. Panicking I tried to claw myself to air, but just as I felt the grips of death. I sprang up, heart pounding, short of breath, and most importantly in my bed. Pulling the covers off my body I sat at the edge of my mattress. The sun peaked over the horizon gazing into my window and shyly kissed my walls. Reaching for my phone I noticed something new. A necklace, and on its silver chain a soft blue gem in the shape of a tear. Grasping it in my hands I spotted a creamy white paper sitting innocently upon my nightstand, and on its face it read. “I hope you too can see the perfection I made you in someday.”

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[sturmruhig]

Lull

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From our earliest moments the storm was in our ears, even if only faintly. From the lab deep within the faculty to the mess hall. From the barracks to the ranges. Only it, our brothers, and these bland durasteel walls were our constant companions. We started as mere DNA, cloned from our Buir. We were taught by Alpha. And we were trained by the verd. All so that we could fight. Fight for a Republic none of us have seen. But that doesn't matter now. Our original purpose is meaningless to us. Now we fight for our vod, our brothers. We fight and we fight. We give it our all, all so less have to. And so many of us die, for each other at the very least. A small comfort to many. But when we all sleep be it in the everchanging field of battle or on the warships that take us there, I hear them. I hear them all. My brothers, I hear them so clearly. It drives me mad. Their screams, their crys for help. Their gasps of final air. It makes my blood ignite like tiburna gas, sets my nerves alight with plasma. I don't know what to do. None of us do. The medics have it worse than even I. They whisper of the flickering pulse, the twiching, the loosing grip. The long-necks never included any lessons of these things. Alpha never taught us of phantoms that haunt. The commandos never spoke about what to do when you dream of battle and awake to peace. Of how to calm a brother blinded by the past, and more importantly, how to clear the fog when it is you who are lost. For some we have had to group together to hold them down, for others there was nothing we could do as they wept. So as I lay here on this mass produced cot, in a mass produced building, next to my mass produced brothers I cup my ear towards that cold durasteel wall. All so that the dizzle outside, one so similar to that of Kamino, may hopefully silence my hell, our hell.

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