Saturday, January 17, 2004

The Journey - History: Day 5

New roads and new ships brought in new people and new companies. Soon, questions arose of the nature of the village folk. Why they cowered in their doorways and never spoke his name. That man who acted more like a god, who lived in the castle like mansion five minutes outside of the city.
Of course, he loved the publicity, the chance to visit new cities and meet new people. He began to take more people underneath him, gaining more and more power. The cycle continued for three more years, and then he met her.
Tristiana, the daughter of the richest merchant in all the country. He knew he loved her before he met her. He loved just the taste of the power he had when he spoke her name.
However, she was already engaged to a minstrel's son. A man who had also climbed the social ladder, but without all the murder and mind control. Regular men were no challenge, though, and Tristiana spurned her supposed "true love" to be with the charming small towner who bought her anything she desired.
The wedding was set, and he was happier than he could have thought possible. He had even lost interest in controlling people, because he realized that after he had her there would be no man who could stand in his way.

Comments (4) | Permalink

Thursday, January 15, 2004

The Journey - History: Day 3
Revered men somehow fell beneath him, bending to his will. At first, he listened to the people. People he had watched every day of his life. They needed schools, roads, and jobs, and somehow he hardened himself to the task, accomplishing it all.
After the first few improvements all types of men and women adored him. They presented him with gifts and money. He finally had the power to buy what his heart wished.
He commissioned a grand castle to be built on the outskirts of town, and here he ran into some problems. He wanted stone when there was none. The city members tried to show him what was common sense to all the people, they lived at least four days from the mountains at the bottom of a Wooded valley. They could only build with wood, but he would not compromise.
He twisted his most loyal followers, made them murders. Soon, those who would not go to gater stone would find their bed deep within the earth, dead. He was convinced that he deserved only the best, and he convinced others.
The few that stood up to him, when the town began to crumble beneath the weight of such a tyrant, dissappeared one after another. Families moved away if they could, and the rich fell to poor. Soon there was only one man left to rule, and no one to challenge his authority.
Comments (7) | Permalink

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

The Journey - History: Day 1
Today he began to tell me the story of The Fire Bringer, and what he really is. Since this journey seems to not be ending any time soon, and it only gets more and more tiresome, I've decided to tell my father's story from now on.
It begins thus:

On the day of the Turning his parents died. In those days the life expectancy was so short no one was surprised when a man got sick, infected his family and they all turned up dead the next week. Surprise was when someone survived, and he was a surprise.
He grew up on the street, some say the son of thieves, the child of murderers. However, he was just an urchin. A poor boy out on his own, and he learned to survive that way.
Living as he did, he saw things. Not merely the everyday toil and trouble, but the reasoning and even the game of power became a tapestry to him. He hid himself beneath grime and rags just to learn the ways of the wealthy merchants. Somehow he rose from the dust to sit on the head of the city government in his two and twentieth year, and from there he began to twist the minds of all beneath him.
Comments (10) | Permalink

Sunday, January 11, 2004

The Journey - ill fated: Day
And another day goes by.

My father and I rode next to each other yesterday and talked about things. He tried to explain himself to me with as little information as possible. He said that the governments of the world were heading down dreadful paths, leading their people into an age of greed, murder, and general BAD feeling.
Then he told me how he had plans for people, and he had dreams of a perfect world of love and good faith.
All I could think of as he spoke was Malqomb, and how that man would give anything to just live and let live. Perfection through imperfection. My father does not understand that concept.

I really didn't believe him when he said what good he would do the world when he had mine and his "powers" combined. It means he knows what I can do, but maybe not to what extent.
I finally responded, after his lovely lecture that lasted for at least two hours. I told him that he has no right to control the minds of others, and if he would only let the people alone maybe they would turn out all right in the end. Or, if they wouldn't . . . at least it would be by their own will.
He just smiled, as if what I said was only the wind in his ears. But, as he turned away I saw a glimmer of something behind those eyes. I'm not dissapointing him, I think.
Comments (11) | Permalink

Friday, January 9, 2004

The Journey - ill fated: Day 23
Yeah, this "father" issue is quite strange.
I can actually sort of see how I resemble him, which is weird. And he does this little half-smile thing, which I do. He is different looking though, dark red skin, black hair, and very tall. But . . . I just don't understand why everyone believes that he is so bad.
We left the little village, and then we rode farther up north. We are headed . . . somewhere. But when My father says the name, I don't understand it. But then, sometimes he and these other men/creatures will speak in a language . . . uhhh, a language that just grates on me.
You know what though? I don't feel awkward anymore, or even really scared. And his coming, my father's, really just made everything sort of make sense. It's like I was meant to meet him. I know I was. He has such interesting eyes, so deep. I don't usually look at him straight on, because, well, they say that he has lived for hundreds of years, and I can see all of them. He is so strong, so powerful. But he only makes me feel safe.

Still, I can't keep Malqomb's words out of my head. "I ask of you only one thing, to live a good life."
Or his tears.
Perfection behind the flaws.
What about flaws behind the perfection? My father though he is, I will never let him take my mind from me.
Comments (6) | Permalink

Wednesday, January 7, 2004

The Journey - ill fated: Day 21
This strange feeling . . . I just can't. I should hate him. I should, I know I should but . . .
Okay, taking a deep breath. And I'll tell you.

So, two days ago they stopped at a village. This vilage that I'm in right now, I mean we're still here. Peok'Kreol told me that he was waiting. Waiting for Him. I had nightmares last night, after a day of total insanity. First, Peok'Kreol told me I was to be washed. And of course, I said "Not by any of you!" He told me I was to be chained, stripped, and splashed with dirty water from a bucket. Pretty much his exact words, and . . . like any self-respecting teenage girl, I punched him in the face. Well, not really, I "threw" a pole into it, with my mind. This telekinesis thing is quite useful. Then he used his power. He made me go numb. I fell on the floor like a ragdoll, but I could still see and breathe and think. Then he strode over to me, the cocky bastard, and he tore my shirt. Tore it off of me.

Obviously, that was not something I was going to stand for. So . . . well, I didn't kill him. Just, well . . . I just made him think that he was on fire, and when he fell to the floor screaming in agony, losing his control over me . . . I . . . well, I kicked him until they came and chained me up. Then I made three of them do the same thing and exploded one creature I was particularly disgusted by.
I have a feeling that they won't try anything like that again.
But . . . that isn't . . . that was strange. Until He arrived.

Just today I met my father. I met Toresti Tunash, The Fire Bringer, The Demon. He is my father. I can't help it.
And out of all those things which he is supposed to be, he doesn't seem evil. He doesn't seem any different than . . . than Malqomb, just fighting for a cause. However, what that cause is is what frightens me.

He held me. I . . . I never knew what a father's touch was like. Until this day. Until I met mine.
Comments (5) | Permalink

Sunday, January 4, 2004

The Journey - ill fated: Day 19
Neotetrasfin. The cold landscape, the snow, the high mountains looming just over the horizon. This place is called Neotetrasfin. It feels dead, as if life used to run through the ground, an electric current pulsing all day long, but it has now been sucked away. The current is gone, the life is wasted. That's what it is, a wasteland.

I've been allowed to sit on my own this day, and I tried nothing to escape. So, here's to my hope that I will no longer be imprisoned, just guarded. I think that they tire of losing men to my nightmare explosions. Oh well, I will do it on purpose from now on.

I wished to the stars. I . . . I prayed for saving, for a savior.
There are times that I believe in balance, for every good day there will be a not-so-good day, for every tear, a smile. But . . . then I think, I didn't have that many great days before this. Why do I deserve the nightmarish life I'm living? I can't understand.

I've never been a very hopeful person. I just lived from day to day because that was life. Life was normal. Now, everything is changed, and it isn't anything like a storybook. It isn't anything like I could imagine, or would want to.
Now I know, more than ever in my life, the meaning of the word Hope.
Comments (6) | Permalink

Friday, January 2, 2004

The Journey - ill-fated: Day 17
Today Another Day Another Day in the Cold Another Day In The Dark Another Day today a day I always feel as if someone is listening to me. Watching over my shoulder. I know no one is there, but I can feel it. I can feel the atmosphere of nothing that you could call good. I don't want to go insane. I want to . . . I just want to be saved.

I'm taking deep breaths. I'm keeping afloat. I'm trying to stay in the daylight. I'm trying to remember.
Yesterday I met the second in command. His name is Peok'Kreol. He at least looks vaugely human, but his skin shimmers a slight green when he turns in the sunlight.
He looks at me with dark slits for eyes. And I want to kill him. I want to kill them all. There will be death to those who try to use me. DEATH.

I apologize. I seem unable to control myself these days. I've already exploded three of my guards, and maybe, if I were stronger i could have escaped. But . . . I just don't know.

Where is he? Where is Malqomb? When will he save me again?
Comments (2) | Permalink

Comments (3) | Permalink

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

Journey - ill fated: Day 14
I have to be so quiet. My writing screams at me with its sound.

.....................


I'm . . . I'm so afraid to move. To breathe would seem like treachery.

Quickly, I must tell.
They took me. That night that seems like thousands of moons away, they came in so quietyly no one knew. No one suspected. But they came. And now . . . I don't know where I am, but it gets so much colder.
God they look . . .

I can hardly describe. I just can't. I'm shaking so badly, day and night. I see death in their eyes. His minions. Scales, sometimes. Or very black skin, almost slimy. Tall hulking things, or just slinky, sneaky black shadows. And they watch me. They watch me . . . as if they would eat me, or . . . worse.

I can not eat. I can not sleep. Every moment I just . . . I wish so hard that it wasn't real. That this isn't happening.

They whisper his name . . . The Fire Starter will come. They whisper . . . they whisper . . . he will come for me. And . . . he is almost here . . . they whisper . . . whisper
Comments (7) | Permalink