she placed one delicate, pearly silk slipper ahead of the other, feeling the soft padding of the earth beneath it. she grimaced and plucked up her lace skirts. she peeled her eyes from the ground and up at the woodland before her. Heleena’s dark eyes wandered for quite some time. the violent bursts of lime and turquoise and fuschia caused her eyes to squint for another sight. tiny and frightened critters scrambled amongst each other, some even running into one another, as they desperately sought out shelter amidst the storm. the clouds above had been groaning balefully ever since she stepped foot into Pan’s Shuma*. it made Heleena wonder if it was she that was causing the unfavourable weather. but it was not. and it was very soon that she would find out. in fact, it was just as Heleena’s eyes gazed into the Path of the Elders*. there, a figure stood, casting the greatest of shadows she’d ever seen.
his mane was black, as were his eyes. they were so black that she need not move closer to inquire whether the abyss that stared into her was Darkness itself for she already knew. it bore a deep purple cloak, with dark blue trimmings around the hems. his skin was white, but not a shining, brilliant white - it was more of a greyish hue, as if looking upon the face of a corpse. he was no knight for he wore no armour. he was dressed something akin to a monk or sorcerer and he held a staff as tall as a Divlya*. he, himself, could rival the height of a Divlya. but his presence… his presence could rival that of the Iars*. Heleena let her skirts fall back to the earth. her delicate, pearly silk slipper withdrew as quietly as it had advanced. and in that split moment, she swore she saw the figure raise its arm, as if beckoning her …
and then it disappeared.
in a panic, Heleena slashed her eyes around the clearing, checking to see if it had decided to hide somewhere else, but alas, the figure was not to be seen. the only things surrounding her were the animals, the trees, the sky, the stream, and the path ahead. and now, when Heleena turned her attention to the path once more, she found it more discomforting than the figure itself.
she felt it was time to return home. Heleena withdrew once more, and, with a last look behind at the eerily silent path, she bolted for the castle.
Pan’s Shuma: an ancient, wild, uninhabited woodland
Path of the Elders: a long pathway of Elder trees leading to Valgara’s Pool, a feared and precarious reservoir
Divlya: old hybrid race [offspring] of the Epitrais (the guardians of the sacred realms of Vaga) and the Morae (humans)
Iars: gods sentenced to watch over the Morae
i take this sheet of blank paper
i fold it
i place it on my tongue
i chew it
i slip it out of my mouth and place it down
i stare at it
it bleeds with retorts of ink
i close my eyes
i place it in my mouth once more
tears cut at the corners of my eyes
i open my mouth again
a hot, stale air comes out
i’m left with a burn in my tongue
i’m left with smiling faces
please, sea, give me restraint.
please, sky, give me servitude.
please, soil, give me absence.
please, sun, give me d a r k n e s s.
So, I’ve decided to release my new project - the story to be told by all. That’s pretty vague, isn’t it? But it’s a simple concept, really. I create the premise for a story, I set it up, I introduce new characters, and I write up Chapter 1. Then someone comes along and writes up Chapter 2. Then someone else comes along and writes up Chapter 3. And so on it goes. That means any one of you may be eligible to continue the story!
How will this work? I’m going to be putting up Chapter 1 some time in the near future. It will be up just in time for the Christmas. Right after Chapter 1 is published, I will request everyone who is interested in writing for Chapter 2 of the story to inbox me (anonymous will be turned off) - and I will then provide you with further information on how to apply.
There are catches, however.
Aren’t there always?
Everyone can submit a chapter for the story. But the thing is - I can only allow one chapter to be submitted. This means that only one person’s pitch will be published. Here’s the interesting part, though - since this is a ‘public’ story, I believe it only fair that the public vote for the chapter they deem best (yes, I am able to vote, too). So, after you have sent me all your pitches before the deadline, I will release them to the public after the deadline and I will create a poll. Your chapter is up to the discretion of the public. Polls will be open for ten days. After that, they close. Results will be shown to the public and the chosen chapter shall be released the following day.
All of this will be done through tumblr. As for matters concerning length and style and format, that shouldn’t matter too much. Once again, this is up to the discretion of the public. The only limitation you have is that it has to be fictional. And well, that’s not much of a limitation now, is it?
- Ana P.
What if a soul wasn’t one piece? What if the body, acting as a temple, housed a soul, which was, in turn, comprised of multiple, older souls? What if they were recycled souls of the past, formed into new bodies, new souls. What if they’re all trying to compete for control of the body? Or how about they’re unanimously trying to harmonizing their souls within you. What if it’s your responsibility to harmonize these souls? But the question I’m wondering is - WHO are these old souls? Where does this competition or harmonization take place? What if a soul is ripped or removed or released improperly?
you’re draining me like a fag
but the ironic part is
that i’m the one left
with the addiction.
when i’d asked him why,
he said to me
i’m sorry, you’re just not pretty enough
you’re too dull
pauline had gotten the part
won with her incandescent locks
and cherry lips
and those glassy, goodly orbs
so it was all too natural that my face’d haunted me for years since that fabled day
i stared at it
and could only hear his acrid words
silvery wisps flooding my mind
and then one night, i’d realized how wrong he’d been
i wasn’t not pretty enough
i wasn’t pretty at all
i was clear,
clear in my features,
almost vociferous and perfect in being so
with my thick dark mane
my long and smooth nose
my brown and burnished eyes
those eminent cheek bones
and my capacious jaw
whereupon my embonpoint lips sat
already metamorphosing into a smile
there i stood
and so beauteous
that i’d bewitched myself