Eddie’s Words

[Edema Rue]

23 hours ago, Ookla the Raveness said:

He'll eat your hair

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

1 hour ago, Ookla the foolish said:

Gently pokes with writing stick.

 This is really good! I need more!

Heeheehee thank you guys so much for the poking...I love this scene, so much.

38 minutes ago, Ookla the Resolute said:

I want to read more and less at the same time I've never had a more emotional split of interest in my life

If you don't want to read my lil words, you never have to.

On 12/11/2023 at 9:09 PM, Ookla the Believer said:

(Yes, this is more Liz, but not really. It's a letter to Ian, the hero, from his actual love interest (and yes their entire relationship was set up by Liz, but it's still very real) I had fun writing it, it's helping me flesh out the actual story)

(sorry, I know I keep jumping around to a whole lot of different things).

From Mari:

  Reveal hidden contents

You said she broke you.

You said she destroyed you.

You told me that everything she did ripped you into pieces so small you would never stand again.

And here you are.

Running.

Away from me.

I swept up your pieces. I sewed your bloody remains back into a person. I held your hand while you shuddered, and wiped away your tears when it became too much. 

I loved you when everyone looked at you and saw a monster. And now you’re...well...a king. And you've forgotten me. I never asked for anything in return. I never expected you to give anything back. It is enough for me to see that you are alive. That you can feel joy. That is worth the hours of stitching, the blisters on my fingers. That is worth every time you woke up afraid and clawed at my face and our blood ran together in a deep red river.

I don’t care.

I shouldn’t care.

I swore I wouldn’t care for you.

But I fell in love.

I fell in love with the way you fought everything that tried to keep you down. I fell in love with your strength. I fell in love with you.

And now I am torn, and bleeding, and broken. And instead of a needle, you hold a knife.

You changed so quickly.

From a hero to a villain.

I’m sure she’s proud of you.

Is that what she tells you, every time you visit her cell and try to kill her? That she's proud of what she made you?

Do you justify it, tell yourself her pain is payment for everything she did to you?

You aren’t the only one she hurt.

You aren’t the only one who broke in those dungeons.

You’re just the one who got out.

You’re just the one she loved. Maybe you didn’t see it. Maybe you’ve never seen it. But I saw. I saw the way she looked at you, even when she was hurting you. I saw the love in her eyes, even when she cackled at your tears. 

I saw it all, Ian.

If anyone had ever looked at me with half as much love as she looked at you with daily, I would take all your pain and more. If you ever looked at me with half as much…

Never mind.

She doesn't get to choose who you are, Ian. You do.

I...

I just…thought you should know.

Things have been better down here, since you took over; I’m even getting a letter to you! But...it's still bad. The food’s still moldy. The guards are still nearly as heartless as their former queen. It's still wet, and dark. And I’m still so cold. And it’s even more lonely here now that you’re gone.

I’m glad you came out on top, Ian.

And I don’t regret helping you.

But…for the sake of all of us down here. If you have any gratitude for the things I’ve done for you, and I’m not saying you need to, just…

I fell in love with a boy who was growing into a hero.

And now I see a hero wilting into a villain. Don’t lose what you had, Ian. Don’t let her take it from you. Revenge won’t get you anywhere.

Save the ones you still can.

Help us,

Or you are just as much of a monster as the Lady of Darkness.

We need you.

Mari

 

Okay. So this scene happens immediately after Ien reads this letter.

WARNING: romance ahead!!

Spoiler

Ien’s hand shook on the letter. He read it again, then again. Mari. I forgot Mari. How had he…he bowed his head, and was surprised to feel his eyes getting wet. She was right. He was becoming Liz. 

He was becoming a monster.

He stood abruptly, letting the page fall to his desk. He looked at the guard that had brought him the letter. “Bring her to me,” he said, no, he snarled. “The girl who wrote that. Bring her here. Now.” The guard bowed and left. Ien collapsed into his seat, pulling at his hair. What have I done…oh, spirits, what have I done?

There was a soft tap at his door. Ien jerked his head up. “Enter.” His voice was hard. When had his voice gotten so hard, so cold and unfeeling?

The guard came in. He was followed by Mari…in her same ragged dress, wearing chains. He suddenly felt very self conscious; he was dressed like royalty. “Give me the key.” The guard did. “Now leave us.” The guard turned and left, looking almost…disappointed. As soon as the guard was gone, Ien’s shoulders…slumped. He ran to Mari and unlocked the shackles, which fell to the ground with a loud clang. “I…” his voice cracked. “I didn’t–”

He cut off as Mari threw her arms around him. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Iendenn Marsvall.” 

He pulled her tight against him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her dirty hair, over and over. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Mari laughed and pulled back, shaking her head. “Ien, oh my Ien. You did it. You’ve saved us all.”

He blinked at her. “And then I forgot you,” he whispered. “All I could think about was destroying her, not helping any of you. I left you to hurt alone.”

“No,” she said firmly, eyes so full of love. “No, you didn’t. Maybe you got a little lost on the way, Ien, but it’s not too late. That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do now, and I know you. You’ll be a wonderful king.”

Ien barked a single, broken, laugh. “I’m a mess, Ri.” He gestured at the room, as if it could explain it all. There were pages scattered all over his desk, her letter on top. Books and ledgers were stacked on the floor. “And the country is too. Liz taxed them too high, everyone’s starving, the soldiers are taking what they want from the civilians, and I have nothing to give them.”

“Shh,” Mari said quietly. Stars and spirits, but Ien loved her. “Just shh, okay? You look so tired.”

“I am,” he whispered. “I can’t do this, Ri. I don’t…everything I do just causes more problems. It’s like all I can do is choose who to hurt. If I could step down, I would, but that would hurt even more people, there would be a succession war, and–”

“Ien,” Mari said, and he fell silent, looking at her. I shouldn’t be telling her all this. She just got out of the prison, she needs to rest, to recover… “Ien,” she repeated. “Let me be your hero.”

“I…what?” 

“Let me be your hero, Ien. You’ve been fighting so hard for so long. It’s okay if the steel around your heart is starting to rust. It’s okay if you need to lean on someone. At the end of these stories, the hero gets the princess, right? Then let me be your princess. Let me be a…a bottle of polish! Let me teach you how to shine again, because I know that you can. I am here for you, Ien. And if…if you don’t want me…” She seemed to shrink in on herself, but then she straightened and tossed her messy braid behind her. “Then I am sorry I’ve taken your time, and I thank you for my freedom.” She watched him, taking a heaving breath.

Ien’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, Ri. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. If you are by my side, I know we can do this.” He stepped forward and kissed her, wishing he had the words to say all that he meant, heart filled with the gentle fire of love. She kissed him back, and they held each other for a long moment. The world had collapsed around them, but their love was a flower sprouting from the ashes, a promise that all would be rebuilt.

Finally, Ien pulled back. Mari brushed her finger tenderly against his cheek, then laughed. She sounded like a fae, something from a long forgotten tale of magic. “Tonight,” she said, “I need a bath. And a new dress.

“And tomorrow, we can start healing this kingdom.”

 

[The Wandering Wizard]

3 minutes ago, Ookla the Believer said:

Heeheehee thank you guys so much for the poking...I love this scene, so much.

If you don't want to read my lil words, you never have to.

Okay. So this scene happens immediately after Ien reads this letter.

WARNING: romance ahead!!

  Hide contents

Ien’s hand shook on the letter. He read it again, then again. Mari. I forgot Mari. How had he…he bowed his head, and was surprised to feel his eyes getting wet. She was right. He was becoming Liz. 

He was becoming a monster.

He stood abruptly, letting the page fall to his desk. He looked at the guard that had brought him the letter. “Bring her to me,” he said, no, he snarled. “The girl who wrote that. Bring her here. Now.” The guard bowed and left. Ien collapsed into his seat, pulling at his hair. What have I done…oh, spirits, what have I done?

There was a soft tap at his door. Ien jerked his head up. “Enter.” His voice was hard. When had his voice gotten so hard, so cold and unfeeling?

The guard came in. He was followed by Mari…in her same ragged dress, wearing chains. He suddenly felt very self conscious; he was dressed like royalty. “Give me the key.” The guard did. “Now leave us.” The guard turned and left, looking almost…disappointed. As soon as the guard was gone, Ien’s shoulders…slumped. He ran to Mari and unlocked the shackles, which fell to the ground with a loud clang. “I…” his voice cracked. “I didn’t–”

He cut off as Mari threw her arms around him. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Iendenn Marsvall.” 

He pulled her tight against him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her dirty hair, over and over. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Mari laughed and pulled back, shaking her head. “Ien, oh my Ien. You did it. You’ve saved us all.”

He blinked at her. “And then I forgot you,” he whispered. “All I could think about was destroying her, not helping any of you. I left you to hurt alone.”

“No,” she said firmly, eyes so full of love. “No, you didn’t. Maybe you got a little lost on the way, Ien, but it’s not too late. That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do now, and I know you. You’ll be a wonderful king.”

Ien barked a single, broken, laugh. “I’m a mess, Ri.” He gestured at the room, as if it could explain it all. There were pages scattered all over his desk, her letter on top. Books and ledgers were stacked on the floor. “And the country is too. Liz taxed them too high, everyone’s starving, the soldiers are taking what they want from the civilians, and I have nothing to give them.”

“Shh,” Mari said quietly. Stars and spirits, but Ien loved her. “Just shh, okay? You look so tired.”

“I am,” he whispered. “I can’t do this, Ri. I don’t…everything I do just causes more problems. It’s like all I can do is choose who to hurt. If I could step down, I would, but that would hurt even more people, there would be a succession war, and–”

“Ien,” Mari said, and he fell silent, looking at her. I shouldn’t be telling her all this. She just got out of the prison, she needs to rest, to recover… “Ien,” she repeated. “Let me be your hero.”

“I…what?” 

“Let me be your hero, Ien. You’ve been fighting so hard for so long. It’s okay if the steel around your heart is starting to rust. It’s okay if you need to lean on someone. At the end of these stories, the hero gets the princess, right? Then let me be your princess. Let me be a…a bottle of polish! Let me teach you how to shine again, because I know that you can. I am here for you, Ien. And if…if you don’t want me…” She seemed to shrink in on herself, but then she straightened and tossed her messy braid behind her. “Then I am sorry I’ve taken your time, and I thank you for my freedom.” She watched him, taking a heaving breath.

Ien’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, Ri. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. If you are by my side, I know we can do this.” He stepped forward and kissed her, wishing he had the words to say all that he meant, heart filled with the gentle fire of love. She kissed him back, and they held each other for a long moment. The world had collapsed around them, but their love was a flower sprouting from the ashes, a promise that all would be rebuilt.

Finally, Ien pulled back. Mari brushed her finger tenderly against his cheek, then laughed. She sounded like a fae, something from a long forgotten tale of magic. “Tonight,” she said, “I need a bath. And a new dress.

“And tomorrow, we can start healing this kingdom.”

 

We really need to writing prod you more :3

[Weaver of Lies]

2 minutes ago, Ookla the Believer said:

Heeheehee thank you guys so much for the poking...I love this scene, so much.

If you don't want to read my lil words, you never have to.

Okay. So this scene happens immediately after Ien reads this letter.

WARNING: romance ahead!!

  Hide contents

Ien’s hand shook on the letter. He read it again, then again. Mari. I forgot Mari. How had he…he bowed his head, and was surprised to feel his eyes getting wet. She was right. He was becoming Liz. 

He was becoming a monster.

He stood abruptly, letting the page fall to his desk. He looked at the guard that had brought him the letter. “Bring her to me,” he said, no, he snarled. “The girl who wrote that. Bring her here. Now.” The guard bowed and left. Ien collapsed into his seat, pulling at his hair. What have I done…oh, spirits, what have I done?

There was a soft tap at his door. Ien jerked his head up. “Enter.” His voice was hard. When had his voice gotten so hard, so cold and unfeeling?

The guard came in. He was followed by Mari…in her same ragged dress, wearing chains. He suddenly felt very self conscious; he was dressed like royalty. “Give me the key.” The guard did. “Now leave us.” The guard turned and left, looking almost…disappointed. As soon as the guard was gone, Ien’s shoulders…slumped. He ran to Mari and unlocked the shackles, which fell to the ground with a loud clang. “I…” his voice cracked. “I didn’t–”

He cut off as Mari threw her arms around him. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Iendenn Marsvall.” 

He pulled her tight against him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her dirty hair, over and over. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Mari laughed and pulled back, shaking her head. “Ien, oh my Ien. You did it. You’ve saved us all.”

He blinked at her. “And then I forgot you,” he whispered. “All I could think about was destroying her, not helping any of you. I left you to hurt alone.”

“No,” she said firmly, eyes so full of love. “No, you didn’t. Maybe you got a little lost on the way, Ien, but it’s not too late. That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do now, and I know you. You’ll be a wonderful king.”

Ien barked a single, broken, laugh. “I’m a mess, Ri.” He gestured at the room, as if it could explain it all. There were pages scattered all over his desk, her letter on top. Books and ledgers were stacked on the floor. “And the country is too. Liz taxed them too high, everyone’s starving, the soldiers are taking what they want from the civilians, and I have nothing to give them.”

“Shh,” Mari said quietly. Stars and spirits, but Ien loved her. “Just shh, okay? You look so tired.”

“I am,” he whispered. “I can’t do this, Ri. I don’t…everything I do just causes more problems. It’s like all I can do is choose who to hurt. If I could step down, I would, but that would hurt even more people, there would be a succession war, and–”

“Ien,” Mari said, and he fell silent, looking at her. I shouldn’t be telling her all this. She just got out of the prison, she needs to rest, to recover… “Ien,” she repeated. “Let me be your hero.”

“I…what?” 

“Let me be your hero, Ien. You’ve been fighting so hard for so long. It’s okay if the steel around your heart is starting to rust. It’s okay if you need to lean on someone. At the end of these stories, the hero gets the princess, right? Then let me be your princess. Let me be a…a bottle of polish! Let me teach you how to shine again, because I know that you can. I am here for you, Ien. And if…if you don’t want me…” She seemed to shrink in on herself, but then she straightened and tossed her messy braid behind her. “Then I am sorry I’ve taken your time, and I thank you for my freedom.” She watched him, taking a heaving breath.

Ien’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, Ri. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. If you are by my side, I know we can do this.” He stepped forward and kissed her, wishing he had the words to say all that he meant, heart filled with the gentle fire of love. She kissed him back, and they held each other for a long moment. The world had collapsed around them, but their love was a flower sprouting from the ashes, a promise that all would be rebuilt.

Finally, Ien pulled back. Mari brushed her finger tenderly against his cheek, then laughed. She sounded like a fae, something from a long forgotten tale of magic. “Tonight,” she said, “I need a bath. And a new dress.

“And tomorrow, we can start healing this kingdom.”

 

I love it! Character arc, let someone else be the hero for once, let them teach you instead of you trying to save them. It’s just so great!

[Edema Rue]

3 minutes ago, Ookla the Raveness said:

We really need to writing prod you more :3

3 minutes ago, Ookla the foolish said:

I love it! Character arc, let someone else be the hero for once, let them teach you instead of you trying to save them. It’s just so great!

*excited giggling*

Their false happy ending...

At some point I'm going to write a time skip, and they'll have kids and it'll be beautiful.

And then Liz will break out of his dungeon because she has a bet to win.

[The Wandering Wizard]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Believer said:

*excited giggling*

Their false happy ending...

At some point I'm going to write a time skip, and they'll have kids and it'll be beautiful.

And then Liz will break out of his dungeon because she has a bet to win.

Oh no xD

hehe I'm so excited :3

*cackle giggles*

[Weaver of Lies]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Believer said:

*excited giggling*

Their false happy ending...

At some point I'm going to write a time skip, and they'll have kids and it'll be beautiful.

And then Liz will break out of his dungeon because she has a bet to win.

*excited giggles as well*

Crush their spirits into the dust!

[Aeoryi]

21 minutes ago, Ookla the Believer said:

Heeheehee thank you guys so much for the poking...I love this scene, so much.

If you don't want to read my lil words, you never have to.

Okay. So this scene happens immediately after Ien reads this letter.

WARNING: romance ahead!!

  Reveal hidden contents

Ien’s hand shook on the letter. He read it again, then again. Mari. I forgot Mari. How had he…he bowed his head, and was surprised to feel his eyes getting wet. She was right. He was becoming Liz. 

He was becoming a monster.

He stood abruptly, letting the page fall to his desk. He looked at the guard that had brought him the letter. “Bring her to me,” he said, no, he snarled. “The girl who wrote that. Bring her here. Now.” The guard bowed and left. Ien collapsed into his seat, pulling at his hair. What have I done…oh, spirits, what have I done?

There was a soft tap at his door. Ien jerked his head up. “Enter.” His voice was hard. When had his voice gotten so hard, so cold and unfeeling?

The guard came in. He was followed by Mari…in her same ragged dress, wearing chains. He suddenly felt very self conscious; he was dressed like royalty. “Give me the key.” The guard did. “Now leave us.” The guard turned and left, looking almost…disappointed. As soon as the guard was gone, Ien’s shoulders…slumped. He ran to Mari and unlocked the shackles, which fell to the ground with a loud clang. “I…” his voice cracked. “I didn’t–”

He cut off as Mari threw her arms around him. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Iendenn Marsvall.” 

He pulled her tight against him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her dirty hair, over and over. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Mari laughed and pulled back, shaking her head. “Ien, oh my Ien. You did it. You’ve saved us all.”

He blinked at her. “And then I forgot you,” he whispered. “All I could think about was destroying her, not helping any of you. I left you to hurt alone.”

“No,” she said firmly, eyes so full of love. “No, you didn’t. Maybe you got a little lost on the way, Ien, but it’s not too late. That doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do now, and I know you. You’ll be a wonderful king.”

Ien barked a single, broken, laugh. “I’m a mess, Ri.” He gestured at the room, as if it could explain it all. There were pages scattered all over his desk, her letter on top. Books and ledgers were stacked on the floor. “And the country is too. Liz taxed them too high, everyone’s starving, the soldiers are taking what they want from the civilians, and I have nothing to give them.”

“Shh,” Mari said quietly. Stars and spirits, but Ien loved her. “Just shh, okay? You look so tired.”

“I am,” he whispered. “I can’t do this, Ri. I don’t…everything I do just causes more problems. It’s like all I can do is choose who to hurt. If I could step down, I would, but that would hurt even more people, there would be a succession war, and–”

“Ien,” Mari said, and he fell silent, looking at her. I shouldn’t be telling her all this. She just got out of the prison, she needs to rest, to recover… “Ien,” she repeated. “Let me be your hero.”

“I…what?” 

“Let me be your hero, Ien. You’ve been fighting so hard for so long. It’s okay if the steel around your heart is starting to rust. It’s okay if you need to lean on someone. At the end of these stories, the hero gets the princess, right? Then let me be your princess. Let me be a…a bottle of polish! Let me teach you how to shine again, because I know that you can. I am here for you, Ien. And if…if you don’t want me…” She seemed to shrink in on herself, but then she straightened and tossed her messy braid behind her. “Then I am sorry I’ve taken your time, and I thank you for my freedom.” She watched him, taking a heaving breath.

Ien’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, Ri. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. If you are by my side, I know we can do this.” He stepped forward and kissed her, wishing he had the words to say all that he meant, heart filled with the gentle fire of love. She kissed him back, and they held each other for a long moment. The world had collapsed around them, but their love was a flower sprouting from the ashes, a promise that all would be rebuilt.

Finally, Ien pulled back. Mari brushed her finger tenderly against his cheek, then laughed. She sounded like a fae, something from a long forgotten tale of magic. “Tonight,” she said, “I need a bath. And a new dress.

“And tomorrow, we can start healing this kingdom.”

 

I do want to read them! It's just that 

[Edema Rue]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Resolute said:

I do want to read them! It's just that 

Just that...?

Okay  

[Aeoryi]

3 minutes ago, Ookla the Believer said:

Just that...?

Okay  

Just that they're emotional stuff and that hurts me to read

[Edema Rue]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Resolute said:

Just that they're emotional stuff and that hurts me to read

Ah. *hugs*

If you ever need anything, I'm here.

[The Wandering Wizard]

2 minutes ago, Ookla the Resolute said:

Just that they're emotional stuff and that hurts me to read

*hugs*

Me too, I'm always here too, sis

[Aeoryi]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Believer said:

Ah. *hugs*

If you ever need anything, I'm here.

 

1 minute ago, Ookla the Raveness said:

*hugs*

Me too, I'm always here too, sis

I can't be the only person who cried watching the force awakens

[Just a Silvereye]

Really excited for how all of this is turning out!

[Edema Rue]

38 minutes ago, Ookla the Dreamer said:

Really excited for how all of this is turning out!

Thank you!! I'm enjoying it  

[Edema Rue]

Okay.

This girl isn’t Mari.

She isn’t anyone, actually. You’ll never see her again. But she’s helping me build Mari.

And it was cool to write a story in poem format.

So yay!!

(also ack italics on a phone are a pain)

Anew:

Spoiler

The girl sat in the dust,

All that remained of a life she’d hoped to live.

And she looked up,

To the coolly angry sun. 

It was harsh and unyielding.

So she bowed her head,

And let her tears fall in the shadow,

Where the sun could not reach.

She cried for many things.

She cried for the dreams, now shattered and broken.

She cried for her love, who’d left her so easily.

She cried with longing for another home she had to leave. 

But she stood up anyway. 

Her tears dried in the sunlight.

And her heart trembled.

She looked up to the sun and she cursed it. “Still watching me?” 

She asked bitterly.

“Fine, then.

You see me.

You know my heart.”

She shivered, though the desert was hot.

“You know that I’m scared. Scared for all the wrong reasons.”

And, to the girl’s surprise, a voice whispered back.

And what are those reasons?

The girl froze, but after a moment, she answered. 

“I’m afraid,”

She whispered,

“Not to die, but to live.

I’m afraid,

Not that I’ll never fall in love,

But that I will.”

 

And the voice in her head,

It murmured assent.

It understood. 

And then it sank deeper. It searched the girl’s mind for reasons, and answers, and the girl tried to run but she could not run, there is no way to run from a demon in your mind, be it the sun or the moon or something from the dark.

And memories floated out,

Drawn to the voice like moths to a flame.

The girl found herself remembering her first love. A boy with bright eyes and an excited grin. He would run, bringing her flowers and pretty stones. And she thought she loved him.

She remembered other lovers.

The one who wrote her poems,

And fought with the one who wrote her songs.

The one who placed a chain of gold around her throat,

And the one who gave her his bread when she was starving.

The one who held her when she cried,

And the one who broke in her arms.

She remembered the families they’d promised her, the lives they’d sworn to help her live.

And she remembered how it felt to be in love with them. With the lives, that is. With the promises. With not being alone, and believing that she would never again be alone.

It felt like leaning on a boulder. Something sure and strong and unchanging.

And losing it…

Losing it felt like an earthquake.

Like the very ground was falling from beneath her feet.

“Why?” She asked the voice, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block it all out.

The voice echoed the question. Why? Why do you keep caring? If it hurts you every time, why do you keep trying?

“I don’t…I don’t know,” The girl whispered. But as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. “No. It’s…I…I don’t think I can help it. I can’t help it. Because I want it, I really do, and I always think it’ll be different, better, that it’ll last this time, and…I’m naive. There’s your answer,” she spat.

But you are brave too, the voice decided. 

“No, I’m not,”

The girl snorted,

Squinting into the light.

“If I were brave,

That would mean it’s my choice.”

You’re still alive, aren’t you?

The words chilled the girl,

Chilled her,

To the depths 

Of

Her

Soul.

She ignored it,

And walked on.

With every step,

She grew stronger,

And the pain faded.

 

The girl kept walking.

She wasn’t sure for how long.

But eventually,

After her throat was sandier than the ground around her,

And her eyes were blurred

With mirages

Of water,

The girl saw a wagon.

No, two.

They were surrounded by figures.

And they saw her.

And ran out to meet her.

And welcomed her into their little home.

 

The voice watched the girl,

From the back of her mind.

It watched 

As she gave herself a new name.

It pondered

As she remembered how to smile,

And laugh.

It was silent

As she found a new home.

It made no sound

As she thought it a hallucination,

A mirage,

Like everything else.

It did not speak,

Until the little tribe

Arrived at a city,

And left her

Alone.

 

I understand,

It whispered into the back of her mind.

And the girl stiffened

On her bed in the inn.

“You’re there?”

Yes.

And I understand.

The girl was silent.

You may not control

All that you feel.

But you are still here,

And you still let yourself laugh,

Because it’s worth the pain.

“Is it?” The girl asked,

Eyes red,

Heart broken,

Hope trembling.

Yes,

The voice decided.

And because someday,

It will be real.

“I’m still afraid,” 

The girl said.

I know,

The voice replied.

And I know being with them

Didn’t take away your fear.

But the laughter,

And the tears,

Are better

Than years

And years

Of nothing.

And the girl,

Once she was threw with crying,

And falling,

And tearing at her hair,

She agreed.

And she moved on.

And she found people to love,

Wherever she went.

And she cried,

And she laughed,

And she lived.

 

[The Wandering Wizard]

27 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Okay.

This girl isn’t Mari.

She isn’t anyone, actually. You’ll never see her again. But she’s helping me build Mari.

And it was cool to write a story in poem format.

So yay!!

(also ack italics on a phone are a pain)

Anew:

  Hide contents

The girl sat in the dust,

All that remained of a life she’d hoped to live.

And she looked up,

To the coolly angry sun. 

It was harsh and unyielding.

So she bowed her head,

And let her tears fall in the shadow,

Where the sun could not reach.

She cried for many things.

She cried for the dreams, now shattered and broken.

She cried for her love, who’d left her so easily.

She cried with longing for another home she had to leave. 

But she stood up anyway. 

Her tears dried in the sunlight.

And her heart trembled.

She looked up to the sun and she cursed it. “Still watching me?” 

She asked bitterly.

“Fine, then.

You see me.

You know my heart.”

She shivered, though the desert was hot.

“You know that I’m scared. Scared for all the wrong reasons.”

And, to the girl’s surprise, a voice whispered back.

And what are those reasons?

The girl froze, but after a moment, she answered. 

“I’m afraid,”

She whispered,

“Not to die, but to live.

I’m afraid,

Not that I’ll never fall in love,

But that I will.”

 

And the voice in her head,

It murmured assent.

It understood. 

And then it sank deeper. It searched the girl’s mind for reasons, and answers, and the girl tried to run but she could not run, there is no way to run from a demon in your mind, be it the sun or the moon or something from the dark.

And memories floated out,

Drawn to the voice like moths to a flame.

The girl found herself remembering her first love. A boy with bright eyes and an excited grin. He would run, bringing her flowers and pretty stones. And she thought she loved him.

She remembered other lovers.

The one who wrote her poems,

And fought with the one who wrote her songs.

The one who placed a chain of gold around her throat,

And the one who gave her his bread when she was starving.

The one who held her when she cried,

And the one who broke in her arms.

She remembered the families they’d promised her, the lives they’d sworn to help her live.

And she remembered how it felt to be in love with them. With the lives, that is. With the promises. With not being alone, and believing that she would never again be alone.

It felt like leaning on a boulder. Something sure and strong and unchanging.

And losing it…

Losing it felt like an earthquake.

Like the very ground was falling from beneath her feet.

“Why?” She asked the voice, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block it all out.

The voice echoed the question. Why? Why do you keep caring? If it hurts you every time, why do you keep trying?

“I don’t…I don’t know,” The girl whispered. But as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. “No. It’s…I…I don’t think I can help it. I can’t help it. Because I want it, I really do, and I always think it’ll be different, better, that it’ll last this time, and…I’m naive. There’s your answer,” she spat.

But you are brave too, the voice decided. 

“No, I’m not,”

The girl snorted,

Squinting into the light.

“If I were brave,

That would mean it’s my choice.”

You’re still alive, aren’t you?

The words chilled the girl,

Chilled her,

To the depths 

Of

Her

Soul.

She ignored it,

And walked on.

With every step,

She grew stronger,

And the pain faded.

 

The girl kept walking.

She wasn’t sure for how long.

But eventually,

After her throat was sandier than the ground around her,

And her eyes were blurred

With mirages

Of water,

The girl saw a wagon.

No, two.

They were surrounded by figures.

And they saw her.

And ran out to meet her.

And welcomed her into their little home.

 

The voice watched the girl,

From the back of her mind.

It watched 

As she gave herself a new name.

It pondered

As she remembered how to smile,

And laugh.

It was silent

As she found a new home.

It made no sound

As she thought it a hallucination,

A mirage,

Like everything else.

It did not speak,

Until the little tribe

Arrived at a city,

And left her

Alone.

 

I understand,

It whispered into the back of her mind.

And the girl stiffened

On her bed in the inn.

“You’re there?”

Yes.

And I understand.

The girl was silent.

You may not control

All that you feel.

But you are still here,

And you still let yourself laugh,

Because it’s worth the pain.

“Is it?” The girl asked,

Eyes red,

Heart broken,

Hope trembling.

Yes,

The voice decided.

And because someday,

It will be real.

“I’m still afraid,” 

The girl said.

I know,

The voice replied.

And I know being with them

Didn’t take away your fear.

But the laughter,

And the tears,

Are better

Than years

And years

Of nothing.

And the girl,

Once she was threw with crying,

And falling,

And tearing at her hair,

She agreed.

And she moved on.

And she found people to love,

Wherever she went.

And she cried,

And she laughed,

And she lived.

 

[Edema Rue]

12 minutes ago, The Wandering Wizard said:

[Weaver of Lies]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

Okay.

This girl isn’t Mari.

She isn’t anyone, actually. You’ll never see her again. But she’s helping me build Mari.

And it was cool to write a story in poem format.

So yay!!

(also ack italics on a phone are a pain)

Anew:

  Hide contents

The girl sat in the dust,

All that remained of a life she’d hoped to live.

And she looked up,

To the coolly angry sun. 

It was harsh and unyielding.

So she bowed her head,

And let her tears fall in the shadow,

Where the sun could not reach.

She cried for many things.

She cried for the dreams, now shattered and broken.

She cried for her love, who’d left her so easily.

She cried with longing for another home she had to leave. 

But she stood up anyway. 

Her tears dried in the sunlight.

And her heart trembled.

She looked up to the sun and she cursed it. “Still watching me?” 

She asked bitterly.

“Fine, then.

You see me.

You know my heart.”

She shivered, though the desert was hot.

“You know that I’m scared. Scared for all the wrong reasons.”

And, to the girl’s surprise, a voice whispered back.

And what are those reasons?

The girl froze, but after a moment, she answered. 

“I’m afraid,”

She whispered,

“Not to die, but to live.

I’m afraid,

Not that I’ll never fall in love,

But that I will.”

 

And the voice in her head,

It murmured assent.

It understood. 

And then it sank deeper. It searched the girl’s mind for reasons, and answers, and the girl tried to run but she could not run, there is no way to run from a demon in your mind, be it the sun or the moon or something from the dark.

And memories floated out,

Drawn to the voice like moths to a flame.

The girl found herself remembering her first love. A boy with bright eyes and an excited grin. He would run, bringing her flowers and pretty stones. And she thought she loved him.

She remembered other lovers.

The one who wrote her poems,

And fought with the one who wrote her songs.

The one who placed a chain of gold around her throat,

And the one who gave her his bread when she was starving.

The one who held her when she cried,

And the one who broke in her arms.

She remembered the families they’d promised her, the lives they’d sworn to help her live.

And she remembered how it felt to be in love with them. With the lives, that is. With the promises. With not being alone, and believing that she would never again be alone.

It felt like leaning on a boulder. Something sure and strong and unchanging.

And losing it…

Losing it felt like an earthquake.

Like the very ground was falling from beneath her feet.

“Why?” She asked the voice, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could block it all out.

The voice echoed the question. Why? Why do you keep caring? If it hurts you every time, why do you keep trying?

“I don’t…I don’t know,” The girl whispered. But as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. “No. It’s…I…I don’t think I can help it. I can’t help it. Because I want it, I really do, and I always think it’ll be different, better, that it’ll last this time, and…I’m naive. There’s your answer,” she spat.

But you are brave too, the voice decided. 

“No, I’m not,”

The girl snorted,

Squinting into the light.

“If I were brave,

That would mean it’s my choice.”

You’re still alive, aren’t you?

The words chilled the girl,

Chilled her,

To the depths 

Of

Her

Soul.

She ignored it,

And walked on.

With every step,

She grew stronger,

And the pain faded.

 

The girl kept walking.

She wasn’t sure for how long.

But eventually,

After her throat was sandier than the ground around her,

And her eyes were blurred

With mirages

Of water,

The girl saw a wagon.

No, two.

They were surrounded by figures.

And they saw her.

And ran out to meet her.

And welcomed her into their little home.

 

The voice watched the girl,

From the back of her mind.

It watched 

As she gave herself a new name.

It pondered

As she remembered how to smile,

And laugh.

It was silent

As she found a new home.

It made no sound

As she thought it a hallucination,

A mirage,

Like everything else.

It did not speak,

Until the little tribe

Arrived at a city,

And left her

Alone.

 

I understand,

It whispered into the back of her mind.

And the girl stiffened

On her bed in the inn.

“You’re there?”

Yes.

And I understand.

The girl was silent.

You may not control

All that you feel.

But you are still here,

And you still let yourself laugh,

Because it’s worth the pain.

“Is it?” The girl asked,

Eyes red,

Heart broken,

Hope trembling.

Yes,

The voice decided.

And because someday,

It will be real.

“I’m still afraid,” 

The girl said.

I know,

The voice replied.

And I know being with them

Didn’t take away your fear.

But the laughter,

And the tears,

Are better

Than years

And years

Of nothing.

And the girl,

Once she was threw with crying,

And falling,

And tearing at her hair,

She agreed.

And she moved on.

And she found people to love,

Wherever she went.

And she cried,

And she laughed,

And she lived.

 

*hugs*
It’s great Eddie.

[Edema Rue]

Heeheeheeheehee...

@Lightweaver2 @The Wandering Wizard @Just a Silvereye (can't remember if you're reading my Liz stuff)

LIZ AND MARI *giggles*

Spoiler

Liz was sitting in darkness. It was fitting, almost. The Lady of Darkness was finally home, finally in her own domain. She wondered, faintly, what Ien would tell the people. Would he say that she was dead? Or would he hold her over them, a threat, a promise that if they didn’t obey him, she would get out? Liz hoped it wouldn’t be that way. It wasn’t a particularly heroic way to live, and the goal was a hero…but Mari would help with that. Her love would soften him, keep him from becoming too solid, too hard. He needed to be a tree, not a boulder. Because Siylna’s champion would be a rock. Their duel would not be beauty if they were only fighting each other like little boys with sticks.

No. Ien needed to be more than that. He needed to be able to grow. Roots could shatter stone, and her hero needed to be the same way. A slow smile spread across her face. Ien was strong. He would break Siylna’s champion, and then…his story wouldn’t end with their bet. And hers wouldn’t either. Someday, he’ll find a way to break me. Liz would never admit it, but she relished the thought. Looked forward to the day he would come for her and be able to destroy her.

Liz sat up, hearing a faint noise. After a moment, she heard it again, and she leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh. It wasn’t Ien. His footsteps were strong, brave. These were more like that of a mouse. Not quiet enough for one of her assassins, not loud enough for a guard…Liz could see the light now, casting long shadows into empty cells. The footsteps paused just out of sight and Liz smiled darkly, knowing what that mouse was doing. Preparing herself to confront an enemy.

“You coming, Mari?” She called, her voice silky and playful. “I don’t bite, little mouse.” Well, not most of the time. For this girl, she might make an exception…she forced the emotions away. You are above this. She is a tool. She is not worthy of your anger.

Mari rounded the corner, and only years of careful practice kept Liz from gasping, or even reacting. She didn’t look like a prisoner, though that was to be expected. But she didn’t look like a farm girl, either. She didn’t even look like a noble. No. The girl looked like a Queen. Her jeweled crown seemed like an extension of herself. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, glowing in the firelight. Her dress was a pale lavender, a mockery of Liz’s own deep purple silks, and her eyes were hard and strong. 

Liz saw it all and despaired. Despaired for the light that radiated from her. Despaired for the love this…this girl got to share with Ien. Despaired because she was alone.

“I am your Queen,” Mari said simply. “You must learn that you don’t control me, or anyone.”

Liz glared cockily. “I serve no one. Especially not you, little mouse.”

Mari smiled softly. Pitying, almost. Liz wanted to tear her to shreds. “I didn’t say you serve me. I wouldn’t want you to if you begged on your knees.”

Liz sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Why are you here?”

“Maybe I’m going to try my hand at killing you,” Mari said smoothly.

Liz’s eyes widened, just barely, but it was too much. She cursed inwardly. The girl’s just trying to get under your skin…she’s learned quickly. “Please do, little mouse,” Liz said, snorting. “Maybe I’ll kill you first.” She lunged forward suddenly, her chains snapping taught. They twisted painfully at her arms, but she was rewarded as Mari took a sharp breath and stumbled backwards. She laughed. “Poor child…scared of the dark? Scared of me?” She snarled, almost like a rabid animal.

***

Mari stepped forward again, smoothing her dress. “I don’t fear you,” she said. And it was true. She didn’t fear Liz. This wretch, chained in a cell, struggling to hold on to some shred of power? No. She was not afraid. In fact…Mari shoved down her excitement. It was not fitting for her to enjoy the pain of another, not even someone like this…but oh, she wanted to. After all this woman had done to her, had done to Ien… “Tell me,” she said bluntly. “How could you hurt someone you love so much?”

Mari couldn’t see Liz, her cell was unnaturally dark, but she heard the chains clinking. “Me? Love him?” Her voice was flat and emotionless. As cold and cruel as she’d always been. Mari almost doubted, then, but…she’d seen Liz’s eyes. She’d seen the longing even as the monster had been breaking Ien, poor Ien, to pieces.

So Mari laughed. She could play this game. Liz was nothing compared to the court she’d grown accustomed to. “Are you going to lie to me, rat?”

***

Fine. What harm will it do to talk to the girl? I only need to let Ien fall in love with her, only a little longer now, only until Siylna sends her message, and then I’ll kill her, no, worse, I’ll let her live. I’ll carve her precious face until even Ien will scorn her, I’ll break every one of her clever fingers, her blood will run until she begs for mercy…

“No,” Liz decided. “I love Ien. I’ve loved him since you were still moseying around your pitiful slum of a village. I held him while you were still traipsing around in the mud. He–and I–are more than you could ever be. You are nothing. You are a pawn in this game, a tool to serve me until your use expires. Ien is a king, and I am the queen. You have no place here,” she hissed. Even as the words were leaving her mouth, Liz knew it was a mistake. But stars, it felt good. 

Mari frowned. “You said…before. Before you brought Ien into the dungeon. You remember our conversation?”

Of course I remember…it was the last time Liz could really recall being afraid. Afraid that she’d messed up. That she’d break Ien. Break the only boy she had ever loved, and who had loved her back. Maybe. Once. She remembered her exact words.

“‘He doesn’t deserve to be alone.’ You told me that,” Mari said, as if echoing Liz’s own thoughts. “You put me in a cell next to him on purpose.”

“Yes,” Liz whispered.

“You wanted us to fall in love. You wanted it to work out like this.”

Liz nodded, then remembered that she was cloaked in shadows. “I did.” I did. Everything is going exactly the way I wanted it to. It’s all…it’s all going so well…so why does it hurt so much?

“Why?” Mari demanded. “Did you know Ien would beat you? Did you know you would fall? Does…does some part of you understand what a monster you are?”

Liz laughed bitterly, letting the shadows fall from around her. “You know nothing of my plans, little mouse. Scurry off, now. You gain nothing from being here.” And if you stay any longer, I might just kill you, and that would ruin everything…

***

Mari leaned forward, intrigued. She saw something in Liz’s eyes. Something past the cold, dangerous magic. Liz was…she was…she was angry. But it wasn’t the anger that came with insanity. No…it was the anger that followed sadness. It was the bitter rage that came from sharpening the edges of a broken heart into daggers. “You really do love him,” she whispered.

Liz bowed her head, and Mari found herself wanting to…to comfort her? No, no, she’s a monster. She doesn’t know what love is. She wants to kill you, and Ien, and she would do it…she would do it… “I do,” Liz said. 

“He’ll never love you,” Mari said, suddenly feeling oddly defensive.

“You think I don’t know that?” Liz snapped. “Do you think I’ve missed the hatred in his eyes every time he looks at me? Do you think I just haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? Do you think I expect him to put aside all his scars, everything I’ve done to him and to his people to wrap his arms around me and hold me like he used to?” Liz stood up, staring Mari in the eyes. “I know him, girl. I know all the pieces of him. I changed him from a scholar to a hero and I loved him all the while. And I know that he will never forgive me. I know. I know the road I’m on. This endless, lonely road.” 

Liz spat, then, and Mari ached for her. Ached for the pain she knew so well. Could this…

Could this have been me?

Would I have ever resorted to becoming this?

“You chose this…” She said slowly.

“Get out,” Liz snarled. “Get out now, unless you’d like to learn how little these chains are holding me back.”

Mari wanted to stay. She wanted to…

Oh, spirits. 

She wanted to help this monster.

So she left. Not because Liz told her to; because she needed to clear her head. Because though it was a queen’s duty to care for her people, it would do no one any good if she started trying to understand such a creature.

***

Liz watched her go, bringing her shadows back up and catching her breath. “Attend.”

A figure stepped out of the darkness in a cell opposite her. “You always know,” the man marveled. “How did you…?”

Liz didn’t answer. Instead, she asked a question of her own. “Are you doing as I commanded?” 

The man nodded sharply. “Yes, my Queen. We’ve told King Iendenn that we serve the sovereign. That we are his.”

“Does he believe you?”

The man smiled, a quick flash of sharp white. “Yes. And he needs all the help he can get, so as much as he hates us…we are very competent. He’s using us.”

“Good,” Liz said, leaning back and thinking. After a moment, the man spoke again.

“I…my Queen.”

“Yes?”

“I must say, I don’t…that is…some of the others. They wonder why we should obey a chained queen, even one such as yourself.”

Liz smiled darkly. “Do you trust me, Assassin?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“Good. Will you obey me?”

“I will, my Queen. But many of the others…”

“Bring them here,” Liz said. A purple glow spread into her shadows. “I’ll show them just how chained I am.”

 

[Weaver of Lies]

59 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Heeheeheeheehee...

@Lightweaver2 @The Wandering Wizard @Just a Silvereye (can't remember if you're reading my Liz stuff)

LIZ AND MARI *giggles*

  Hide contents

Liz was sitting in darkness. It was fitting, almost. The Lady of Darkness was finally home, finally in her own domain. She wondered, faintly, what Ien would tell the people. Would he say that she was dead? Or would he hold her over them, a threat, a promise that if they didn’t obey him, she would get out? Liz hoped it wouldn’t be that way. It wasn’t a particularly heroic way to live, and the goal was a hero…but Mari would help with that. Her love would soften him, keep him from becoming too solid, too hard. He needed to be a tree, not a boulder. Because Siylna’s champion would be a rock. Their duel would not be beauty if they were only fighting each other like little boys with sticks.

No. Ien needed to be more than that. He needed to be able to grow. Roots could shatter stone, and her hero needed to be the same way. A slow smile spread across her face. Ien was strong. He would break Siylna’s champion, and then…his story wouldn’t end with their bet. And hers wouldn’t either. Someday, he’ll find a way to break me. Liz would never admit it, but she relished the thought. Looked forward to the day he would come for her and be able to destroy her.

Liz sat up, hearing a faint noise. After a moment, she heard it again, and she leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh. It wasn’t Ien. His footsteps were strong, brave. These were more like that of a mouse. Not quiet enough for one of her assassins, not loud enough for a guard…Liz could see the light now, casting long shadows into empty cells. The footsteps paused just out of sight and Liz smiled darkly, knowing what that mouse was doing. Preparing herself to confront an enemy.

“You coming, Mari?” She called, her voice silky and playful. “I don’t bite, little mouse.” Well, not most of the time. For this girl, she might make an exception…she forced the emotions away. You are above this. She is a tool. She is not worthy of your anger.

Mari rounded the corner, and only years of careful practice kept Liz from gasping, or even reacting. She didn’t look like a prisoner, though that was to be expected. But she didn’t look like a farm girl, either. She didn’t even look like a noble. No. The girl looked like a Queen. Her jeweled crown seemed like an extension of herself. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, glowing in the firelight. Her dress was a pale lavender, a mockery of Liz’s own deep purple silks, and her eyes were hard and strong. 

Liz saw it all and despaired. Despaired for the light that radiated from her. Despaired for the love this…this girl got to share with Ien. Despaired because she was alone.

“I am your Queen,” Mari said simply. “You must learn that you don’t control me, or anyone.”

Liz glared cockily. “I serve no one. Especially not you, little mouse.”

Mari smiled softly. Pitying, almost. Liz wanted to tear her to shreds. “I didn’t say you serve me. I wouldn’t want you to if you begged on your knees.”

Liz sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Why are you here?”

“Maybe I’m going to try my hand at killing you,” Mari said smoothly.

Liz’s eyes widened, just barely, but it was too much. She cursed inwardly. The girl’s just trying to get under your skin…she’s learned quickly. “Please do, little mouse,” Liz said, snorting. “Maybe I’ll kill you first.” She lunged forward suddenly, her chains snapping taught. They twisted painfully at her arms, but she was rewarded as Mari took a sharp breath and stumbled backwards. She laughed. “Poor child…scared of the dark? Scared of me?” She snarled, almost like a rabid animal.

***

Mari stepped forward again, smoothing her dress. “I don’t fear you,” she said. And it was true. She didn’t fear Liz. This wretch, chained in a cell, struggling to hold on to some shred of power? No. She was not afraid. In fact…Mari shoved down her excitement. It was not fitting for her to enjoy the pain of another, not even someone like this…but oh, she wanted to. After all this woman had done to her, had done to Ien… “Tell me,” she said bluntly. “How could you hurt someone you love so much?”

Mari couldn’t see Liz, her cell was unnaturally dark, but she heard the chains clinking. “Me? Love him?” Her voice was flat and emotionless. As cold and cruel as she’d always been. Mari almost doubted, then, but…she’d seen Liz’s eyes. She’d seen the longing even as the monster had been breaking Ien, poor Ien, to pieces.

So Mari laughed. She could play this game. Liz was nothing compared to the court she’d grown accustomed to. “Are you going to lie to me, rat?”

***

Fine. What harm will it do to talk to the girl? I only need to let Ien fall in love with her, only a little longer now, only until Siylna sends her message, and then I’ll kill her, no, worse, I’ll let her live. I’ll carve her precious face until even Ien will scorn her, I’ll break every one of her clever fingers, her blood will run until she begs for mercy…

“No,” Liz decided. “I love Ien. I’ve loved him since you were still moseying around your pitiful slum of a village. I held him while you were still traipsing around in the mud. He–and I–are more than you could ever be. You are nothing. You are a pawn in this game, a tool to serve me until your use expires. Ien is a king, and I am the queen. You have no place here,” she hissed. Even as the words were leaving her mouth, Liz knew it was a mistake. But stars, it felt good. 

Mari frowned. “You said…before. Before you brought Ien into the dungeon. You remember our conversation?”

Of course I remember…it was the last time Liz could really recall being afraid. Afraid that she’d messed up. That she’d break Ien. Break the only boy she had ever loved, and who had loved her back. Maybe. Once. She remembered her exact words.

“‘He doesn’t deserve to be alone.’ You told me that,” Mari said, as if echoing Liz’s own thoughts. “You put me in a cell next to him on purpose.”

“Yes,” Liz whispered.

“You wanted us to fall in love. You wanted it to work out like this.”

Liz nodded, then remembered that she was cloaked in shadows. “I did.” I did. Everything is going exactly the way I wanted it to. It’s all…it’s all going so well…so why does it hurt so much?

“Why?” Mari demanded. “Did you know Ien would beat you? Did you know you would fall? Does…does some part of you understand what a monster you are?”

Liz laughed bitterly, letting the shadows fall from around her. “You know nothing of my plans, little mouse. Scurry off, now. You gain nothing from being here.” And if you stay any longer, I might just kill you, and that would ruin everything…

***

Mari leaned forward, intrigued. She saw something in Liz’s eyes. Something past the cold, dangerous magic. Liz was…she was…she was angry. But it wasn’t the anger that came with insanity. No…it was the anger that followed sadness. It was the bitter rage that came from sharpening the edges of a broken heart into daggers. “You really do love him,” she whispered.

Liz bowed her head, and Mari found herself wanting to…to comfort her? No, no, she’s a monster. She doesn’t know what love is. She wants to kill you, and Ien, and she would do it…she would do it… “I do,” Liz said. 

“He’ll never love you,” Mari said, suddenly feeling oddly defensive.

“You think I don’t know that?” Liz snapped. “Do you think I’ve missed the hatred in his eyes every time he looks at me? Do you think I just haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? Do you think I expect him to put aside all his scars, everything I’ve done to him and to his people to wrap his arms around me and hold me like he used to?” Liz stood up, staring Mari in the eyes. “I know him, girl. I know all the pieces of him. I changed him from a scholar to a hero and I loved him all the while. And I know that he will never forgive me. I know. I know the road I’m on. This endless, lonely road.” 

Liz spat, then, and Mari ached for her. Ached for the pain she knew so well. Could this…

Could this have been me?

Would I have ever resorted to becoming this?

“You chose this…” She said slowly.

“Get out,” Liz snarled. “Get out now, unless you’d like to learn how little these chains are holding me back.”

Mari wanted to stay. She wanted to…

Oh, spirits. 

She wanted to help this monster.

So she left. Not because Liz told her to; because she needed to clear her head. Because though it was a queen’s duty to care for her people, it would do no one any good if she started trying to understand such a creature.

***

Liz watched her go, bringing her shadows back up and catching her breath. “Attend.”

A figure stepped out of the darkness in a cell opposite her. “You always know,” the man marveled. “How did you…?”

Liz didn’t answer. Instead, she asked a question of her own. “Are you doing as I commanded?” 

The man nodded sharply. “Yes, my Queen. We’ve told King Iendenn that we serve the sovereign. That we are his.”

“Does he believe you?”

The man smiled, a quick flash of sharp white. “Yes. And he needs all the help he can get, so as much as he hates us…we are very competent. He’s using us.”

“Good,” Liz said, leaning back and thinking. After a moment, the man spoke again.

“I…my Queen.”

“Yes?”

“I must say, I don’t…that is…some of the others. They wonder why we should obey a chained queen, even one such as yourself.”

Liz smiled darkly. “Do you trust me, Assassin?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“Good. Will you obey me?”

“I will, my Queen. But many of the others…”

“Bring them here,” Liz said. A purple glow spread into her shadows. “I’ll show them just how chained I am.”

 

I love it Eddie! Liz is such an interesting villain.

[The Wandering Wizard]

5 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Heeheeheeheehee...

@Lightweaver2 @The Wandering Wizard @Just a Silvereye (can't remember if you're reading my Liz stuff)

LIZ AND MARI *giggles*

  Reveal hidden contents

Liz was sitting in darkness. It was fitting, almost. The Lady of Darkness was finally home, finally in her own domain. She wondered, faintly, what Ien would tell the people. Would he say that she was dead? Or would he hold her over them, a threat, a promise that if they didn’t obey him, she would get out? Liz hoped it wouldn’t be that way. It wasn’t a particularly heroic way to live, and the goal was a hero…but Mari would help with that. Her love would soften him, keep him from becoming too solid, too hard. He needed to be a tree, not a boulder. Because Siylna’s champion would be a rock. Their duel would not be beauty if they were only fighting each other like little boys with sticks.

No. Ien needed to be more than that. He needed to be able to grow. Roots could shatter stone, and her hero needed to be the same way. A slow smile spread across her face. Ien was strong. He would break Siylna’s champion, and then…his story wouldn’t end with their bet. And hers wouldn’t either. Someday, he’ll find a way to break me. Liz would never admit it, but she relished the thought. Looked forward to the day he would come for her and be able to destroy her.

Liz sat up, hearing a faint noise. After a moment, she heard it again, and she leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh. It wasn’t Ien. His footsteps were strong, brave. These were more like that of a mouse. Not quiet enough for one of her assassins, not loud enough for a guard…Liz could see the light now, casting long shadows into empty cells. The footsteps paused just out of sight and Liz smiled darkly, knowing what that mouse was doing. Preparing herself to confront an enemy.

“You coming, Mari?” She called, her voice silky and playful. “I don’t bite, little mouse.” Well, not most of the time. For this girl, she might make an exception…she forced the emotions away. You are above this. She is a tool. She is not worthy of your anger.

Mari rounded the corner, and only years of careful practice kept Liz from gasping, or even reacting. She didn’t look like a prisoner, though that was to be expected. But she didn’t look like a farm girl, either. She didn’t even look like a noble. No. The girl looked like a Queen. Her jeweled crown seemed like an extension of herself. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, glowing in the firelight. Her dress was a pale lavender, a mockery of Liz’s own deep purple silks, and her eyes were hard and strong. 

Liz saw it all and despaired. Despaired for the light that radiated from her. Despaired for the love this…this girl got to share with Ien. Despaired because she was alone.

“I am your Queen,” Mari said simply. “You must learn that you don’t control me, or anyone.”

Liz glared cockily. “I serve no one. Especially not you, little mouse.”

Mari smiled softly. Pitying, almost. Liz wanted to tear her to shreds. “I didn’t say you serve me. I wouldn’t want you to if you begged on your knees.”

Liz sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Why are you here?”

“Maybe I’m going to try my hand at killing you,” Mari said smoothly.

Liz’s eyes widened, just barely, but it was too much. She cursed inwardly. The girl’s just trying to get under your skin…she’s learned quickly. “Please do, little mouse,” Liz said, snorting. “Maybe I’ll kill you first.” She lunged forward suddenly, her chains snapping taught. They twisted painfully at her arms, but she was rewarded as Mari took a sharp breath and stumbled backwards. She laughed. “Poor child…scared of the dark? Scared of me?” She snarled, almost like a rabid animal.

***

Mari stepped forward again, smoothing her dress. “I don’t fear you,” she said. And it was true. She didn’t fear Liz. This wretch, chained in a cell, struggling to hold on to some shred of power? No. She was not afraid. In fact…Mari shoved down her excitement. It was not fitting for her to enjoy the pain of another, not even someone like this…but oh, she wanted to. After all this woman had done to her, had done to Ien… “Tell me,” she said bluntly. “How could you hurt someone you love so much?”

Mari couldn’t see Liz, her cell was unnaturally dark, but she heard the chains clinking. “Me? Love him?” Her voice was flat and emotionless. As cold and cruel as she’d always been. Mari almost doubted, then, but…she’d seen Liz’s eyes. She’d seen the longing even as the monster had been breaking Ien, poor Ien, to pieces.

So Mari laughed. She could play this game. Liz was nothing compared to the court she’d grown accustomed to. “Are you going to lie to me, rat?”

***

Fine. What harm will it do to talk to the girl? I only need to let Ien fall in love with her, only a little longer now, only until Siylna sends her message, and then I’ll kill her, no, worse, I’ll let her live. I’ll carve her precious face until even Ien will scorn her, I’ll break every one of her clever fingers, her blood will run until she begs for mercy…

“No,” Liz decided. “I love Ien. I’ve loved him since you were still moseying around your pitiful slum of a village. I held him while you were still traipsing around in the mud. He–and I–are more than you could ever be. You are nothing. You are a pawn in this game, a tool to serve me until your use expires. Ien is a king, and I am the queen. You have no place here,” she hissed. Even as the words were leaving her mouth, Liz knew it was a mistake. But stars, it felt good. 

Mari frowned. “You said…before. Before you brought Ien into the dungeon. You remember our conversation?”

Of course I remember…it was the last time Liz could really recall being afraid. Afraid that she’d messed up. That she’d break Ien. Break the only boy she had ever loved, and who had loved her back. Maybe. Once. She remembered her exact words.

“‘He doesn’t deserve to be alone.’ You told me that,” Mari said, as if echoing Liz’s own thoughts. “You put me in a cell next to him on purpose.”

“Yes,” Liz whispered.

“You wanted us to fall in love. You wanted it to work out like this.”

Liz nodded, then remembered that she was cloaked in shadows. “I did.” I did. Everything is going exactly the way I wanted it to. It’s all…it’s all going so well…so why does it hurt so much?

“Why?” Mari demanded. “Did you know Ien would beat you? Did you know you would fall? Does…does some part of you understand what a monster you are?”

Liz laughed bitterly, letting the shadows fall from around her. “You know nothing of my plans, little mouse. Scurry off, now. You gain nothing from being here.” And if you stay any longer, I might just kill you, and that would ruin everything…

***

Mari leaned forward, intrigued. She saw something in Liz’s eyes. Something past the cold, dangerous magic. Liz was…she was…she was angry. But it wasn’t the anger that came with insanity. No…it was the anger that followed sadness. It was the bitter rage that came from sharpening the edges of a broken heart into daggers. “You really do love him,” she whispered.

Liz bowed her head, and Mari found herself wanting to…to comfort her? No, no, she’s a monster. She doesn’t know what love is. She wants to kill you, and Ien, and she would do it…she would do it… “I do,” Liz said. 

“He’ll never love you,” Mari said, suddenly feeling oddly defensive.

“You think I don’t know that?” Liz snapped. “Do you think I’ve missed the hatred in his eyes every time he looks at me? Do you think I just haven’t noticed the way he looks at you? Do you think I expect him to put aside all his scars, everything I’ve done to him and to his people to wrap his arms around me and hold me like he used to?” Liz stood up, staring Mari in the eyes. “I know him, girl. I know all the pieces of him. I changed him from a scholar to a hero and I loved him all the while. And I know that he will never forgive me. I know. I know the road I’m on. This endless, lonely road.” 

Liz spat, then, and Mari ached for her. Ached for the pain she knew so well. Could this…

Could this have been me?

Would I have ever resorted to becoming this?

“You chose this…” She said slowly.

“Get out,” Liz snarled. “Get out now, unless you’d like to learn how little these chains are holding me back.”

Mari wanted to stay. She wanted to…

Oh, spirits. 

She wanted to help this monster.

So she left. Not because Liz told her to; because she needed to clear her head. Because though it was a queen’s duty to care for her people, it would do no one any good if she started trying to understand such a creature.

***

Liz watched her go, bringing her shadows back up and catching her breath. “Attend.”

A figure stepped out of the darkness in a cell opposite her. “You always know,” the man marveled. “How did you…?”

Liz didn’t answer. Instead, she asked a question of her own. “Are you doing as I commanded?” 

The man nodded sharply. “Yes, my Queen. We’ve told King Iendenn that we serve the sovereign. That we are his.”

“Does he believe you?”

The man smiled, a quick flash of sharp white. “Yes. And he needs all the help he can get, so as much as he hates us…we are very competent. He’s using us.”

“Good,” Liz said, leaning back and thinking. After a moment, the man spoke again.

“I…my Queen.”

“Yes?”

“I must say, I don’t…that is…some of the others. They wonder why we should obey a chained queen, even one such as yourself.”

Liz smiled darkly. “Do you trust me, Assassin?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“Good. Will you obey me?”

“I will, my Queen. But many of the others…”

“Bring them here,” Liz said. A purple glow spread into her shadows. “I’ll show them just how chained I am.”

 

[Edema Rue]

To the flower on my dresser:

Spoiler

You’re so young.

You’re so alive.

There’s…

There’s so much I wish I could tell you.

You’re so determined to grow.

Do you know how much it will hurt?

Every flower that blossoms on your stalks will wilt.

Every bright color you have now will fade and die so quickly. 

It will hurt,

This life you have ahead of you.

It will be lonely,

My sweet Amaryllis.

You will struggle

And break

And be told

That it’s your fault.

You will desperately wish

For someone to tell you it’s okay.

For someone to hold you.

To tell you you’re beautiful,

That you don’t need to be anything more than you are.

And instead,

Their cruel eyes will callously leer at your blooded flowers,

Searching for every imperfection.

And they will find them.

Because you won’t be perfect.

It won’t matter how much you work.

It won’t matter how you turn out.

Because your life is ever-fleeting.

Always drawing nearer

To its inevitable end.

Will you find even a moment of joy in this existence of yours?

Oh, precious flower.

Oh, darling Amaryllis.

Oh, little sprout.

Oh, unknowing bulb.

You’ve no idea.

You don’t know.

And so you keep living.

You keep growing.

Keep striving for perfection.

Keep looking for a life that you’ll never find,

A life that isn’t yours to live.

Do you want to help people?

Do you want to make them smile?

Fix their broken parts?

It doesn’t matter what you want.

You are locked in your prison of wax.

You will never escape.

There is nowhere else where you can grow.

There is nothing you can become besides what you are.

And what you are

Is not what you want.

And never will be.

You’ll never be more,

Than a mildly pretty flower.

Temporary.

Easily forgotten.

Keep dreaming, though.

Keep imagining you’ll be more.

Keep hoping you’re worth something.

Keep thinking you can achieve the perfection you long for so deeply.

Keep growing,

Little flower.

Your blooms are as red as paint on the lips of a lonely girl looking for her love.

And maybe

When that girl finds you instead,

She’ll smile

And take you home.

And then you’ll die.

And she’ll go on living, never remembering that you were there.

That is the best you will ever have, young one.

That is the most your sprout will become.

That is all anyone expects from you.

And,

For you,

Their expectations are a blessing.

Because you can easily surpass them.

Some of us don’t have that luxury,

Amaryllis.

Some of us are drowning in seas of their hopes for us.

But you aren’t.

And you don’t need to care for anyone but yourself.

So keep growing.

Keep caring for yourself.

O,

How shallow you are.

O,

How petty.

Stay on your path.

Grow tall

And straight

And true

And green.

"Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart."

So bloom, little bud.

Bloom.

And then rot.

Hermes:

Spoiler

He was the fastest.

It was funny, in a twisted sort of way.

Even Zeus couldn’t match his speed.

If they’d been mortals, it would’ve made him important.. The races he won would mean something.

But they weren’t mortals.

And he wasn’t the strongest. Or the cleverest. Or the loveliest. Or the cruelest. He learned, though. There’s no other way to survive as a god. He learned to be fast. He learned to be tricky. And, because rumors only grow, he became the trickiest. The fastest.

And if he’d been a mortal, it would have been enough.

But he wasn’t a mortal,

And his pantheon wanted servants.

And as we’ve mentioned, Hermes was not the strongest, and so he was the one to bend.

After so many years, he should have been used to it.

The bending during every conflict.

The feeling of being known everywhere, and belonging nowhere. 

The feeling of being known by all and knowing none, like an actor on a stage, easily recognizable by the entire audience, but lost and alone in a crowd.

Hermes told himself he didn’t mind.

It didn’t matter to him.

He could befriend the friendless. He could visit places even the eldest gods had forgotten. There was no harm in being the messenger. 

Being the messenger also meant that with a few well-placed…untruths, he could alter history more than even Zeus, king of the gods.

He tried to be glad.

Tried to be grateful that at least he was “serving something greater than himself.” That’s what the others told him when he voiced his anger.

So he kept it quiet,

And o,

So

Slowly,

His soul began to wither.

His spirit began to die.

Sometimes the messenger gets shot;

Sometimes the constant movement gets so exhausting that there’s no way to

Think

When there’s so much to do it’s impossible to

Feel

You forget, forget everything, until

You

Are

Nothing.

And so Hermes faded.

He lost his colors, his spirit, his hope.

He moved without thinking,

Struggled without caring,

Traveling the paths that had been put before him,

Without pausing to wonder where they might lead.

He faded.

He floated,

Like a leaf on the wind.

He fell,

From a god,

Past a mortal,

To a machine.

To a tool.

After all, he was serving something greater than himself.

He was doing his job.

There was a form of beauty in that, wasn’t there?

Hermes didn’t play tricks anymore.

Didn’t laugh, either.

Once he had served the travelers, given homes to the wanderers.

That didn’t matter, though. Why would it?

Hermes was the fastest.

And so he was the messenger.

The servant of all.

And the friend of none.

Neither of those turned out very pretty or fun, but I'm glad I wrote them, and if you enjoy them then I'm doubly glad, because they'll have done good to others  

[The Wandering Wizard]

31 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

To the flower on my dresser:

  Hide contents

You’re so young.

You’re so alive.

There’s…

There’s so much I wish I could tell you.

You’re so determined to grow.

Do you know how much it will hurt?

Every flower that blossoms on your stalks will wilt.

Every bright color you have now will fade and die so quickly. 

It will hurt,

This life you have ahead of you.

It will be lonely,

My sweet Amaryllis.

You will struggle

And break

And be told

That it’s your fault.

You will desperately wish

For someone to tell you it’s okay.

For someone to hold you.

To tell you you’re beautiful,

That you don’t need to be anything more than you are.

And instead,

Their cruel eyes will callously leer at your blooded flowers,

Searching for every imperfection.

And they will find them.

Because you won’t be perfect.

It won’t matter how much you work.

It won’t matter how you turn out.

Because your life is ever-fleeting.

Always drawing nearer

To its inevitable end.

Will you find even a moment of joy in this existence of yours?

Oh, precious flower.

Oh, darling Amaryllis.

Oh, little sprout.

Oh, unknowing bulb.

You’ve no idea.

You don’t know.

And so you keep living.

You keep growing.

Keep striving for perfection.

Keep looking for a life that you’ll never find,

A life that isn’t yours to live.

Do you want to help people?

Do you want to make them smile?

Fix their broken parts?

It doesn’t matter what you want.

You are locked in your prison of wax.

You will never escape.

There is nowhere else where you can grow.

There is nothing you can become besides what you are.

And what you are

Is not what you want.

And never will be.

You’ll never be more,

Than a mildly pretty flower.

Temporary.

Easily forgotten.

Keep dreaming, though.

Keep imagining you’ll be more.

Keep hoping you’re worth something.

Keep thinking you can achieve the perfection you long for so deeply.

Keep growing,

Little flower.

Your blooms are as red as paint on the lips of a lonely girl looking for her love.

And maybe

When that girl finds you instead,

She’ll smile

And take you home.

And then you’ll die.

And she’ll go on living, never remembering that you were there.

That is the best you will ever have, young one.

That is the most your sprout will become.

That is all anyone expects from you.

And,

For you,

Their expectations are a blessing.

Because you can easily surpass them.

Some of us don’t have that luxury,

Amaryllis.

Some of us are drowning in seas of their hopes for us.

But you aren’t.

And you don’t need to care for anyone but yourself.

So keep growing.

Keep caring for yourself.

O,

How shallow you are.

O,

How petty.

Stay on your path.

Grow tall

And straight

And true

And green.

"Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart."

So bloom, little bud.

Bloom.

And then rot.

Hermes:

  Hide contents

He was the fastest.

It was funny, in a twisted sort of way.

Even Zeus couldn’t match his speed.

If they’d been mortals, it would’ve made him important.. The races he won would mean something.

But they weren’t mortals.

And he wasn’t the strongest. Or the cleverest. Or the loveliest. Or the cruelest. He learned, though. There’s no other way to survive as a god. He learned to be fast. He learned to be tricky. And, because rumors only grow, he became the trickiest. The fastest.

And if he’d been a mortal, it would have been enough.

But he wasn’t a mortal,

And his pantheon wanted servants.

And as we’ve mentioned, Hermes was not the strongest, and so he was the one to bend.

After so many years, he should have been used to it.

The bending during every conflict.

The feeling of being known everywhere, and belonging nowhere. 

The feeling of being known by all and knowing none, like an actor on a stage, easily recognizable by the entire audience, but lost and alone in a crowd.

Hermes told himself he didn’t mind.

It didn’t matter to him.

He could befriend the friendless. He could visit places even the eldest gods had forgotten. There was no harm in being the messenger. 

Being the messenger also meant that with a few well-placed…untruths, he could alter history more than even Zeus, king of the gods.

He tried to be glad.

Tried to be grateful that at least he was “serving something greater than himself.” That’s what the others told him when he voiced his anger.

So he kept it quiet,

And o,

So

Slowly,

His soul began to wither.

His spirit began to die.

Sometimes the messenger gets shot;

Sometimes the constant movement gets so exhausting that there’s no way to

Think

When there’s so much to do it’s impossible to

Feel

You forget, forget everything, until

You

Are

Nothing.

And so Hermes faded.

He lost his colors, his spirit, his hope.

He moved without thinking,

Struggled without caring,

Traveling the paths that had been put before him,

Without pausing to wonder where they might lead.

He faded.

He floated,

Like a leaf on the wind.

He fell,

From a god,

Past a mortal,

To a machine.

To a tool.

After all, he was serving something greater than himself.

He was doing his job.

There was a form of beauty in that, wasn’t there?

Hermes didn’t play tricks anymore.

Didn’t laugh, either.

Once he had served the travelers, given homes to the wanderers.

That didn’t matter, though. Why would it?

Hermes was the fastest.

And so he was the messenger.

The servant of all.

And the friend of none.

Neither of those turned out very pretty or fun, but I'm glad I wrote them, and if you enjoy them then I'm doubly glad, because they'll have done good to others  

*hugs hugs hugs*

[Edema Rue]

38 minutes ago, The Wandering Wizard said:

*hugs hugs hugs*

*hugs back* I'm a lot better now, today's just been a day of many emotions. 

[Weaver of Lies]

2 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

To the flower on my dresser:

  Hide contents

You’re so young.

You’re so alive.

There’s…

There’s so much I wish I could tell you.

You’re so determined to grow.

Do you know how much it will hurt?

Every flower that blossoms on your stalks will wilt.

Every bright color you have now will fade and die so quickly. 

It will hurt,

This life you have ahead of you.

It will be lonely,

My sweet Amaryllis.

You will struggle

And break

And be told

That it’s your fault.

You will desperately wish

For someone to tell you it’s okay.

For someone to hold you.

To tell you you’re beautiful,

That you don’t need to be anything more than you are.

And instead,

Their cruel eyes will callously leer at your blooded flowers,

Searching for every imperfection.

And they will find them.

Because you won’t be perfect.

It won’t matter how much you work.

It won’t matter how you turn out.

Because your life is ever-fleeting.

Always drawing nearer

To its inevitable end.

Will you find even a moment of joy in this existence of yours?

Oh, precious flower.

Oh, darling Amaryllis.

Oh, little sprout.

Oh, unknowing bulb.

You’ve no idea.

You don’t know.

And so you keep living.

You keep growing.

Keep striving for perfection.

Keep looking for a life that you’ll never find,

A life that isn’t yours to live.

Do you want to help people?

Do you want to make them smile?

Fix their broken parts?

It doesn’t matter what you want.

You are locked in your prison of wax.

You will never escape.

There is nowhere else where you can grow.

There is nothing you can become besides what you are.

And what you are

Is not what you want.

And never will be.

You’ll never be more,

Than a mildly pretty flower.

Temporary.

Easily forgotten.

Keep dreaming, though.

Keep imagining you’ll be more.

Keep hoping you’re worth something.

Keep thinking you can achieve the perfection you long for so deeply.

Keep growing,

Little flower.

Your blooms are as red as paint on the lips of a lonely girl looking for her love.

And maybe

When that girl finds you instead,

She’ll smile

And take you home.

And then you’ll die.

And she’ll go on living, never remembering that you were there.

That is the best you will ever have, young one.

That is the most your sprout will become.

That is all anyone expects from you.

And,

For you,

Their expectations are a blessing.

Because you can easily surpass them.

Some of us don’t have that luxury,

Amaryllis.

Some of us are drowning in seas of their hopes for us.

But you aren’t.

And you don’t need to care for anyone but yourself.

So keep growing.

Keep caring for yourself.

O,

How shallow you are.

O,

How petty.

Stay on your path.

Grow tall

And straight

And true

And green.

"Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart."

So bloom, little bud.

Bloom.

And then rot.

Hermes:

  Hide contents

He was the fastest.

It was funny, in a twisted sort of way.

Even Zeus couldn’t match his speed.

If they’d been mortals, it would’ve made him important.. The races he won would mean something.

But they weren’t mortals.

And he wasn’t the strongest. Or the cleverest. Or the loveliest. Or the cruelest. He learned, though. There’s no other way to survive as a god. He learned to be fast. He learned to be tricky. And, because rumors only grow, he became the trickiest. The fastest.

And if he’d been a mortal, it would have been enough.

But he wasn’t a mortal,

And his pantheon wanted servants.

And as we’ve mentioned, Hermes was not the strongest, and so he was the one to bend.

After so many years, he should have been used to it.

The bending during every conflict.

The feeling of being known everywhere, and belonging nowhere. 

The feeling of being known by all and knowing none, like an actor on a stage, easily recognizable by the entire audience, but lost and alone in a crowd.

Hermes told himself he didn’t mind.

It didn’t matter to him.

He could befriend the friendless. He could visit places even the eldest gods had forgotten. There was no harm in being the messenger. 

Being the messenger also meant that with a few well-placed…untruths, he could alter history more than even Zeus, king of the gods.

He tried to be glad.

Tried to be grateful that at least he was “serving something greater than himself.” That’s what the others told him when he voiced his anger.

So he kept it quiet,

And o,

So

Slowly,

His soul began to wither.

His spirit began to die.

Sometimes the messenger gets shot;

Sometimes the constant movement gets so exhausting that there’s no way to

Think

When there’s so much to do it’s impossible to

Feel

You forget, forget everything, until

You

Are

Nothing.

And so Hermes faded.

He lost his colors, his spirit, his hope.

He moved without thinking,

Struggled without caring,

Traveling the paths that had been put before him,

Without pausing to wonder where they might lead.

He faded.

He floated,

Like a leaf on the wind.

He fell,

From a god,

Past a mortal,

To a machine.

To a tool.

After all, he was serving something greater than himself.

He was doing his job.

There was a form of beauty in that, wasn’t there?

Hermes didn’t play tricks anymore.

Didn’t laugh, either.

Once he had served the travelers, given homes to the wanderers.

That didn’t matter, though. Why would it?

Hermes was the fastest.

And so he was the messenger.

The servant of all.

And the friend of none.

Neither of those turned out very pretty or fun, but I'm glad I wrote them, and if you enjoy them then I'm doubly glad, because they'll have done good to others  

How did I miss these?! *hugs*

If you ever need anything you can always PM me.