Seven sentence or less

Posted on December 2, 2017 by Swor under Shorts

Nerio, the Hero of the Shield

It all began long before the events near the small village on the outskirts of our world but the Fates had placed them both under the moon that night.

An Armageddon between the battleworn hero, who valiantly fought to protect his family and his country from the darkness that was to come, and the tortured demon seeking to quench his thirst in seas of blood.

One became none and the other less than even that as the hero became the villain and the villain came to no more be.

Having lost the blood of his blood and the flesh of his flesh but not the heart of his soul, he ripped his heart out before it became foul.

Exiled from his life, banished from his death, he sought revenge and wandered the nether and the never only to become stranded in the silver city with barely a sliver of a hope or a chance.

And yet he made the spark of life come from his still heart, becoming what he hated most and learning the accursed arts of the new family that hosted his rise to power.

The wrongs he wrote were the rights he wronged, what was lost became found again, though in another way, as simply as the bloody moon turned back to the ocean’s jewel.

Another little experiment of mine. Oh but don’t mind me, do keep reading!

An unusual request

Posted on November 28, 2017 by Swor under Shorts

The shop had been quiet for a few days now, which was completely normal, mind you, with everything that was going on around the Curve and its gates. It was like this every damn season: Leaf had its refreshing resorts opening their doors, Tear, its holidays and family reunions, Sand had holidays AND great weather, always, and Zephyr and the rest managed to make people get off their asses to move even though she couldn’t understand why after all those years… But what was the most mind-boggling was the people themselves, those who stupidly thought that by starting a few hours or days early they would manage to wiggle through when, after so many cycles, it was always the same thing. The same damn thing, always. Too many people would all think of getting an early start at the same time and it would end up like always, with the gates over-packed and her shop more quiet than usual…

This time was no exception. It even seemed even more quiet than the previous cycles. She knew that clients would always end up coming back at one point, often in much higher numbers in the first weeks following the change but it still managed to freak her out to an extent, even after all this time. I am no better than those idiots, am I? Thinking it’ll be different this time… She sighed and adjusted the new items she had received the previous day. Dust-globes of the citadel, animae of the shuttles gliding along the Curve’s rainbow paths, a bunch of Nat’ur magazines – stupid hipster name – and, last but not least, a dozen pairs of the latest lenses of truth by Trigon, supposedly able to display events past and future of the location you looked at. She knew it was a scam, as most merchants and tourists did – even Trigon themselves, the product’s distributing guild had admitted it sometimes operated in ‘unpredictable ways’ for Io’s sake! – but it never seemed to stop selling, the speed at which they disappeared even seemed to increase.

She was in the middle of putting the contents of the last box on display when the gong echoed. She looked up and saw a red-haired mudborn walk towards her. No, a human, she corrected herself silently. Not cool Vee, not cool… Those were the remains of the old her, she tried to let those apprehensions fizzle out in the far reaches of her mind but it was much more easily said than done. She had learned to see past what her clan had taught her when she had left her home all those years ago but it wasn’t perfect yet. Who is perfect anyway? Nothing it lost as long as you know it’s bad Vee, as long as you know it’s bad, she repeated the words of the preceptor as a mantra. She stood up and dusted her hands on her robe, everything needed a good scrub anyway and she still had some time to get the shop clean and proper before the number of clients soared again.

“Hello, how may I help you?”, she asked, putting on her best smile as the woman walked up to her.

“Hello”, the woman replied with a slight accent, which she found cute, “I am looking for a specific item and have been… unlucky in acquiring it in the shops I have visited previously. I was told that if I asked for a certain Verian here, they would be able to help me…”

The way she had paused in the middle of her sentence had caught Vee’s attention, she studied the woman a little more closely. She looked and sounded like a tourist passing through with her light clothes – an ample white blouse, an equally floating lilac-coloured skirt and a large curved straw hat – and her slightly rolling accent. The only thing missing to complete the look were large sunglasses. But as Vee observed the red-haired woman a bit more closely she noticed the small wooden stick – probably a wand – hanging by her side and the deep yet cold brown of her eyes. Not a passing client, she is dangerous… Vee immediately settled the broad smile on her face so as not to let on her thoughts. Now that she thought about it, the woman had an unfamiliar and spicy aura around her, which was definitely not common. And if he had been recommended to her by her peers, it must mean she was ot a usual client either.

“Of course, I am Verian,” Vee replied, “what is it that you seek to obtain? I may already possess something of the kind in my inventory.”

She went straight to the point and the woman seemed to appreciate that.

“To be frank, I am not looking for an object, rather… a creature. One of great power. I was hoping you would be able to provide counsel on this.”

Interesting, thought Vee. Usually when clients came to her with special orders they were seeking materials or objects, those who came to obtain other types of merchandise like living creatures or other were even more rare. And yet she felt that woman in front of her was of another kind still. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted already and someone who had the means to acquire it by private circuits rather than through merchants or guilds. So why would she come here?

“Come with me.”, Vee said before moving to the back of the shop, not even locking the front door as she was sure no one would disturb them.

The woman followed her to a larger, more lit room which served as a meeting room for the rich and important clients. Windows displaying different landscapes were placed along the walls. Of course they were false, this room had no other physical entry or exit that the one leading to the shop, and it was tailor-made to become a very, very sturdy safe-room if anything went wrong during or after a deal. Or if anything went wrong in general, with her establishment so close to the Curve it was always a risk, no matter what the officials could say, she trusted her judgement more than their corrupted one.

“Have a seat.”, Vee gestured and a row of different seats appeared behind the woman.

She sat on the one covered in pale blue fur. Nice choice, Vee thought, it was the most comfortable one, after her own of course, which she outed immediately after. She also outed a small table with refreshments, she always kept some in case of unexpected business.

“So,” she sat down in her own seat, a thin layer of ochre sand cut into the shape of an armchair, “what exactly brings you to see me?”

She shifted slightly, taking a cookie from one of the jars in front of her, resting her tale on her shoulder. The woman filled a small cup with the sweet ruby liquid in the bottle next to it and took a sip before replying.

“I have a – let’s say a project in mind, small and inconsequential to the scale of the Curve but which I hold quite dear right now. I am very peculiar on the details of this project but it requires a piece that I have not yet been able to put my hands on.”

She paused and took another sip, she seemed to enjoy the drink. Vee did not speak and simply bid her time, she knew when to respect her clients’ pace.

“The creature I am looking for is a dragon,” the woman said after a short silence.

Vee couldn’t help the slight surprise but nodded to hide her small frown. Why would a client come to her for such a simple task as this? There must have been something else…

“As you might expect, I am not looking for simply any kind of dragon, I wouldn’t have come to you if it was the case. I have specific requisites that must be met.”

Of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

“I understand. Would you care to give me these details? I will know immediately what preparations are needed.”, Vee said.

Dragons. She had a few of those in her own inventory but they were common and relatively easy to obtain. They would most likely not be what her client was looking for. That wasn’t a problem though, she hadn’t gotten her reputation by chance, if it existed, she could most likely get her hands on it and most assuredly make a nice deal of it.

“What I am looking for is a hybrid, cross between the black Zora and the small Iyor. It must still be in the egg state, that is very important.”

Vee was mentally reviewing her database to see if she could already pinpoint a location or at least a first move as to how she would fulfill this task and she visibly frowned at the second part of the request. A dragon, whether purebreed or crossbreed was relatively easy to find for someone with her background, but a specific crossbreed and adding the absolute condition it needed to be an egg made things more complicated. Not impossible, though she was confident she could achieve that by going through a few unusual channels. However she froze when the woman added a third condition.

“And you have to bring me along to choose the egg. I would normally ask for its location and go there myself but I am not familiar with these parts and I need a guide…”

Vee checked to see if this was joke, but nothing in her client’s attitude indicated anything of the sort. The red-haired human was completely serious. Damn… I should have expected this…, she silently cursed. Usually, for such a request, she would have her few trusted associates work for or with her and only move once the product was located, or not even move at all sometimes. But that damn woman wanted her to do it herself and to tag along, this was trouble, definite trouble! She did not want to be a babysitter to this human girl, even more so when she had this uneasy feeling about her. She was about to voice her refusal when she felt the spiciness of the air. The woman’s eyes were not cold, nor did they reflect any malice but she felt pressured nonetheless; there was power in those eyes, she could feel it and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go against her request. She wasn’t even sure she could as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Very well,” she said, refraining a sigh, “I believe I will be able to fulfill your request. However, for this special treatment, the fees will be higher than usual.”

The red-haired woman simply nodded her approbation and Vee waved her hand, vanishing the food from the table and outing the documents to validate this contract.

“Usually for requests like these, I require a month. But since you wish to come with me, I will need a few days to prepare, no more than three, to get the shop in order and to gather some information as to the place where we will begin our search. I hope this is fine for you.”

“I see no problem, it will give me time to continue my preparations and to take a closer look at the citadel.”

“Then if you would press your finger here…”, Vee said, pointing to the thin silver sheet before her on the table.

The woman followed her instructions and Vee did the same on the other side, explaining the exact details, the dangers and the rules that would have to be followed. A copy was then made and one was kept by her, the other given to the woman. Then she accompanied the red-haired human to the door with a smile. It was only partially forced this time, this trip would not be pleasurable to her, she was sure of it, but she would making a nice profit, whether she succeeded or not. However, considering her impression of the one at the origin of the request- no, the demand, she had a feeling that failing was not an option she would enjoy… Vee watched with mixed feelings the woman only known to her by her initial, a cursive E on the contract, take out what she believe was a wand only to have it grow to the size of a broom, and hop on it with elegance before silently flying off.

“Well, this is going to be fun…”, she muttered, her tail purring with apprehension at what was to come.

Prompted by a Reddit thread.

The Shore

Posted on November 25, 2017 by Swor under Shorts

The waves had carried the small boat to the shore. She didn’t know where it could have come from but somehow it felt it had arrived right where it should be. As she approached she noticed the young man, lying in it, his face pale and his side bloody. His breath was ragged, his skin was cold and yet he was obviously burning with fever. He was dying. She knew it immediately. He was dying and there was nothing she could do. Nothing to save him at least, but perhaps she could ease his pain. The heavy wrinkles were unmistakable traces of the suffering. They were not scars and yet they were, momentary scars of the turmoil that went on inside. He was dying and she wanted to help.

How she managed to make her voice carry to the castle she couldn’t say, all she knew is that it had and somehow the guards had found her. She had given orders and the young man had been carried to a room in the high tower, her room – she would sleep in her sister’s, it was long unoccupied anyway. Her father had come with the doctor, finding her on her knees, by the large bed, lost in her patient’s form. Her patient he was now, for even after the doctor repeated the words she had already formulated in her own mind, she insisted that she would nurse him. Perhaps not back to health but at least to a more painless death. She would nurse him if none other would try, even if were to fail, even if he died. He wouldn’t die though, she could feel it. Or at least she hoped so with all her heart, day and night, by his side, she hoped and hoped. She would not stop hoping. She simply could not. Even thought she knew perfectly well that she didn’t know him, he was nobody to her, but she had found him on the beach and thus it had become her duty to take care of him.

Day and night. Night and day. Day after day. Week after week. For months she remained by his side, only leaving to attain to the basics of her status as the castle’s lady and to sustain her self. A full moon came and went and he remained bed-ridden, shivering with cold and burning up at the same time, unresponsive but breathing. He was alive. Alive weeks after the short time the doctor had given him, alive in spite of all common sense. Hanging by a thread of sheer willpower, or luck, or divine clemency – she could not say – and taking in breath after breath, each ragged and difficult, but taken in nonetheless. Finally, one fine morning, as winter began to melt upon the world and the sun rose to the east, after refusing to go away for so long, the wound at his side finally shed its last bloody tear.

No matter the cataplasms, the potions or the spells, nothing had worked, it had kept spilling the life out of him, each day annulling the care that the lady had put into treating and keeping the young man on the edge of the last breath. Nothing had worked. It was cleaned, disinfected and stitched shut each night, and every morning it would be found open again, spewing blood. Not profusely but never a small enough amount to hope for him to recover. However, that one morning it had stopped, after hours upon hours of sweat and prayers, after days of struggling and nights of wakes, as the young woman woke up she saw no blood. It had refused to close, the deep and fateful cut as fresh as on the first day she had laid eyes on him, but bleeding no more. The day had passed and although his state had not changed in any way, it had not gotten worse. Then came night and then day again, with no sleep on her part, no rest for her weary heart and mind, which over time had grown accustomed to his uneven breathing and the boiling chill of his skin.

It was on the first light of the next day that the countless prayers she had thrown into the air, all the hopes she had kept afloat for so long, for the first time, crystalized into something beautiful. A single tear, running from the corner of the eye to the corner of the mouth. It glided soundlessly on the pallor of his skin, stopped only by her finger as she ran it on his cheek. Awestruck, she had seen the water collect and the power of gravity slowly do its deed as it attracted the painful rains to the ground. She could barely believe it but, refusing to let this miracle be lost, she let her hand shoot to his cheek without a second though and collected the living pearl. Reflexively, as her fingers touched the cold and gruff surface, she let them keep contact and run further, along the hill of his cheekbone to the ledge of his jaw line. A small beard had begun growing again and the fever had kept him at the edge of freezing and boiling, and yet, under her finger, nothing had ever felt more soft.

Still in the most complete of silence, a small wind began to blow through the half-open window and sunlight poured in over the bed. Suddenly, the world seemed to halt as she felt it. It was lightning quick and softer even than the songs of birds outside, yet she had felt it. As clear as she saw the tear run along her finger now and as strongly as she heard his ragged struggle for life, something she felt she had not in an eternity. A heartbeat. A single, solitary heartbeat, lacking strength, lacking its ever-present echo, but a heartbeat nonetheless. There, in the morning-lit room, where the dead man had kept bleeding for so long, and where silence reigned unchallenged, her shoulders began to shake…

The scene where it all begins again.

In a part of the story inspired by an old legend.

Over the edge

Posted on March 17, 2016 by Swor under Shorts

Here you finally are, on the edge. Not of glory -oh no, silly- you’re on the edge of the world, frightening isn’t it? From here you can contemplate the vast unknown, the dark emptiness, the infinite abyss. From here on it’s just nothing, on and on, for thousands upon thousands of leagues. Out there is the cold reality, the source of the fear that has been crippling your kind since the beginning of time, out there is the void. No light, no sound, no life. Nothing. From this point on to eternity. Few have reached this place -oh many tried but so many didn’t make it this far- and fewer yet have tried to continue further, to go… beyond. But -hear me well when I say this- none has ever come back. Once you jump over the edge there is no coming back. There is not going forward either. Heck! There is not even a forward to go to. Are you scared? Of course you are. But, my dear adventurer, my sweet sweet brave one, the question is: are you willing to take the leap? This is not a leap of faith, if anything it is a leap of foolishness -of complete and utter stupidity if you ask me-. This is a simple choice. No arguments, no pondering, no reward for your bravery, no prize for your achievement, just a simple act of will. A simple decision: whether to take the plunge or not. It is simple but of course it is not easy, is it, my friend?

Hahaha. I can feel your fear, your indecision. I know. But will you be man enough to make a decision, will you be foolish -or brave, whatever you prefer- enough to choose? Or will you just cower away like so many other before you? Don’t kid yourself, if you do this you will never come back. But if you don’t do it how will you ever know? Aha! There it is, the greatest weakness of your kind: curiosity. I can see its fire burning in your soul, the flames may waver at time but it is there, always burning, waiting to devour more and more. Whatever you choose, whatever you do, is entirely up to you. I will not stop you either way. But will you be able to live with the consequences of your decision? In any case, never will you come back here again. Oh…! Interesting. You have made your choice. So it’s gonna be like that huh? I’ll admit, I couldn’t be sure but I really hoped it would happen this way. The fear in your eyes, the crippling doubt eating at you, are always so much fun to watch, I can’t get enough of it! Well, not that it matters anymore, you’ve made your decision, now you will have to live with it, forever. But don’t worry, you’re not the first to make this choice and, if I may say, certainly not the last one. Leave your regrets behind you, no need to go crazy over this. Anyways, adieu my dear adventurer!, for we will never meet again. Know, however, that it has truly been a great pleasure meeting you and I thank you for this. … Oh come on now! You have chosen, no more hesitation, no more stalling, off you go now! The first step is always the hardest but don’t forget: your new journey awaits! Hahahahaha…

Enough music is never enough!

Posted on June 17, 2015 by Swor under Thoughts and other ideas

I couldn’t live my life without music, this is an absolute truth. I don’t simply like music or enjoy it, no, it’s something much deeper than that. Music is a bit like the weather to me, as strange as it may seem it influences my emotions and my attitude much more than most other aspects of my life. When the sun is up and the sky is clear I feel extremely happy and motivated to do whatever I want to do, whereas when it’s raining or cloudy I almost automatically feel depressed or unmotivated/lazy.

The difference between night and day also impacts my writing, I’m a lot more inspired to write during the early mornings or the late evenings, when the sun is either rising, setting or completely down, like during the night. I don’t know why but it seems to stimulate my mind and my imagination. That can be a problem from time to time as I finally get inspired to write when I am completely exhausted… (Yep, that’s annoying when it happens.)

Well music also plays an equally important role in my life. With music I feel happy, emotional, inspired, I feel alive and free somehow. I don’t know why or how but some songs just have this deep effect on me, they touch something deep inside my mind and they give me strength, imagination and love. I just realized that I had already made a post about this subject a few weeks back, you can find it here : Music is love, music is life, so I wont expand too much on this subject since I believe I’ve already said a lot back then.

I will simply say this : today the song that makes me feel alive and free is Louder, Harder, Better by Galantis, that I just found yesterday on SuicideSheep’s Youtube channel, it’s really an awesome piece of sounds. I don’t know why but it resonates within me and it make me smile. In these sort of situations the only thing I can hope for is to one day be able to make people feel and smile with my writing, just as this song makes me feel and smile!

Enjoy! ;)

The demon

Posted on May 23, 2015 by Swor under Prologue, Shorts, The Lord of the Red Moon

night sky

Credits to Elias Stern / LordDoomhammer for this amazing piece called Graceful Moonlight.

It the olden days there was another,

A sphere of light high up in the sky,

That lit up the world just like a mother

During the dark nights, high up it would fly.

The night was dark but the sky was clear. One could see the stars and the soft light of the moon. The night was dark and the air was cold. He could see the creature’s breath shimmer slightly before disappearing mysteriously. He should’ve been cold but the fight had lit a fire in his heart, each breath spread the warmth all over his body. He could feel his blood pumping in his arms, in his head and in chest. He was alive. No, he was still alive. How could he still be alive? How could he have survived so long against such a monster? He saw its red eyes shine in the dark, looking intently at him as if they were piercing his mind, as if it could see directly into his soul. His breath was heavy as he tried to recover from the exhaustion. His muscles were burning, his mind was getting fuzzy by moments and, even if he was still standing, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he crumbled under the immensely powerful attacks of the beast in front of him.

The only thing that kept him alive and standing was that he couldn’t fail. It wasn’t a question of honor or pride, no, he simply couldn’t fail. He had to protect them. He had to protect everyone. If he died here it didn’t matter as long as he took the creature with him, but he couldn’t be defeated, he couldn’t lose. For if he was… He shivered as images of the burning village flashed in his mind, his wife and child, his friends and his neighbors, so many innocent slain by one single being. No! He definitely couldn’t let it happen. He was the only one that could stop it, the only one that had a chance. He couldn’t lose but he didn’t see how he could win either. They had been at it for so long and he hadn’t managed to injure it even once yet. How do I defeat that thing? How? The question echoed endlessly through his mind as he parried and counter attacked over and over again. How do I kill it?

He had felt its aura long before it had reached the village, the deathly smell that characterized its kind. He had known it was coming long before he had seen its bloody eyes glow menacingly at him. He hadn’t been able to believe it at first; they hadn’t been seen for centuries. Why had it appeared now? And why here? How could it be possible? He had no answer to the many questions that had flooded his mind, answers were not important though, action was. He had known what he had to do almost immediately: he had to go face it. He had to kill it before it killed them. Night had already begun to fall when he had jumped on his horse and had left them, not even looking back once as he disappeared in the horizon. He had ridden for hours before reaching the place where it had appeared and a few more before he had encountered it. The night was dark but the light of the moon offered just enough vision to survive its attacks, at least until now.

It was tall, much taller than him, with long limbs and skin darker than night, red eyes and claws so long and so sharp they could tear a man apart without difficulty. The only reason he had managed to survive until was because he had been a royal knight in another life, he had become the protector of the village after years of faithful services and the armor he had donned all these years was reinforced with magic. His lion shield had been enchanted to resist to the strongest blows as well as the passing of time and his sword was a cursed blade, it was the only way to injure a magical creature. And boy, what a creature he had in front of him. Easily over two meters tall with sharp with teeth and deadly magical power, it was easily a mediare daemonis, a middle class demon. A very powerful creature that was said to come from the burning fires of hell. One must have been crazy or foolish to go up against such a monster but he hadn’t lost his mind, he had no other choice if he wanted to keep them safe.

Claws clashed against shield and sword against scale, over and over, relentlessly. Each time he could see the hellish fire burning in its eyes and felt as if the demonic glare was tearing his mind and soul to shreds. He parried and counterattacked, throwing mad sword thrusts at the dark limbs but never succeeding in wounding them. The demon would smile from time to time, as if it enjoyed toying with him, displaying blood-red teeth as sharp as knives. Suddenly he jumped and rolled to the side to evade another blow, the large arm passed right by him and hit the ground with so much strength it crumbled the rocks beneath it. He used this single instant to get back to his feet and thrust his sword at the creature’s exposed chest but the demon was faster and caught the sword between its claws, turning towards him with a wicked smile.

“Foolish human… You cannot defeat me, not even with your sacred weapons…” Its voice was deep and it seemed to echo in darkness.

No, he thought, not in darkness. It was as if its voice was the darkness and as if it took form as it left its mouth. I’m never going to be able to kill that thing… he thought, his mind slowly going numb. He felt as if his body had suddenly been tossed into water, his movements were sluggish, his breathing was ragged and he had difficulty moving his chest to take in a new wave of oxygen. The world had suddenly solidified around him and he could literally feel the weight of it on his shoulders, forcing him to the ground, dragging him to the depths of the underworld. He fell to his knee, only managing to stop himself from falling to the ground by burying the tip of his sword in the dry dirt under his feet. Images flashed before his eyes, the village in ruins, every house burning up in flames as dark as the night, his family lying on the ground, in each other’s arms, dead. No… No! This can’t be happening, no! His head was about to explode, he couldn’t go on anymore, it had to stop.

“Do you see now, it will only end in death and suffering… And that will all be my doing. You cannot stop me, it is already too late!” The demon spoke again, boring its eyes into his, breaking every wall and piercing every barrier to touch his soul.

As soon as it happened he felt a searing pain, this time his head had exploded, it couldn’t be otherwise. He had died and gone to hell where the demon was tormenting him. Hahaha. You are a mine and so are all the others, I will crush you like the insects you are… This time the voice was in his head, it echoed endlessly, sending flashes of unbearable pain and images of his family. His wife, bloody and crying over their son’s body, all torn up and burnt. A sword pierced her heart and a single cry echoed in the night before she fell to the ground next to the young boy. Now die! The voice added and he felt a searing pain in his mind as the demon’s consciousness retreated from it.

He felt it was an eternity before he finally opened his eyes again, he was still on his knees, his body completely paralyzed by intense pain. The demon was towering over him, its dark form expanding in two large wings on each side and its eyes glowing a deep dark shade of red. The creature was holding a large silver blade in its hand, its edge seemed like it was made of a different material than the center and glowed with an eerie purple light. The sword was much longer than what he had ever seen and the edges seemed to be made like teeth of a saw, as if it had been forged to tear apart instead of cutting. The creature lifted it in the air and displayed a wicked smile.

“Now die.” Its voice sounded mocking and amused as it brought down its large and dark arm.

As the deadly weapon was about to hit him an image flashed in his mind, the last look of his wife as he had left and the fear in his son’s eyes. He felt a sudden warmth in his chest as his blood started to boil again, anger coursed through his veins. He couldn’t let it win, it was simply not a possibility!

“No.” He managed to reply, planting his foot on the ground and raising his shield once more to protect himself.

He parried the blow and quickly took a step back, readying his sword once more. He would not fall now, he would not let his loved ones get slaughtered by this monster. He saw surprise flash in the demon’s eyes as he got back up and could have sworn he had seen a hint of fear.

“Impressive…” The demon’s voice was still as calm and deadly as before, there was no hint that he was worried by his opponent just getting back up. “You have a noteworthy resolve for a human.” The creature added before thrusting his sword forward.

He parried with difficulty, feeling his arm go numb as the sword hit his shield. The lion head resounded for a few seconds as the shield shook powerfully under the assault. He could only try to parry as best as he could as the creature attacked relentlessly, over and over again with a blood lust and rage he had never felt before. Its aura was overwhelming and had he not known that they would all die if he didn’t kill it he would have succumbed to it and been utterly destroyed. Dust flew around them as the danced furiously under the moonlight. One might almost have viewed this scene as poetic if they hadn’t known it was a fight.

He tried to fought back, parrying and counterattacking as fiercely as he could, but he was still getting overwhelmed and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be defeated. Even with the sacred weapons that had been given to him by the royal smith himself he couldn’t match the creature’s natural raw power and strength. It was from another realm and very few men had fought one and lived to tell the tale, all of which were far stronger than he had ever been. Still he hung on, still he fought back. He couldn’t let them be killed, he was the only one who could protect them.

Another unbearably strong hit on his shield, then a clash of swords that sent him a few feet backwards, his arms were starting to give out. His armor was dented and bent everywhere, his shield was close to breaking, he could feel it, and his sword never got close enough to lend a hit. Blow after blow he was pushed back and toyed with, as if the demon was taking pleasure n chipping away his spirit and soul, piece by piece. Another block with his shield, it effectively cutting of the trajectory of the ethereal sword but this time his legs gave out and he was sent flying backwards, landing painfully on his back.

As he tried to get back up he felt something wet on his side. A large gash was open in his top and blood was flowing from the wound, tainting his armor with a deep red color. The demon had finally managed to wound him seriously. He felt the cold spread in his left side, the arm with which he was holding his shield was starting to grow weak. Damn it! He thought, it can’t end like this. I can’t die now! Ugh! A wave of pain coursed through his body and he winced as he tried to get back up. The demon was looking at him, slowly walking to him, as if it enjoyed this moment.

“Sadly you are still nothing but a human…” It said as it stopped before him, preparing to strike.

Finally, with great effort and a wave of pain he managed to raise his shield to try to protect himself. The demon was about to strike when suddenly the light of the moon changed, it went from the usual bluish shade to a deep red one, the reflection of the light on his shield seemed to take the creature aback. Its eyes widened with surprise and fear and it took a step back. He used this moment of distraction to get back up and, stumbling to keep his balance as his wound hurt, he got back in a fighting stance, readying his sword to strike once more. The demon got its balance back, suddenly looking at the moon and letting out a furious roar.

“How?! How could you…!” It turned back towards him, the fire in its eyes burning with much more intensity as it let out its rage.

The demon raised its sword once more and launched a furious series of attacks. However he was ready for this and he managed to block the first two before the creature’s unmatchable strength blew his shield away. He was wounded once more on his right arm this time and almost dropped his sword as his hellish opponent caught him by the throat and lifted him up from the ground. Then, before he could even have a moment to notice he couldn’t breathe, the creature readied its sword again and struck. He felt a deathly cold pierce his chest as the silver and violet blade plunged in him before a hot searing pain took over.

This time he couldn’t suppress the cry of pain as he felt his mind explode in a myriad of pieces. His vision went blank for a second before he saw the fire once again. Its eyes that had been burning with an intense and hellish fire up until now were dark, the fire had turned black and seemed to suck out any light around as if it was consuming it.

“You are just a puny human, you are not even worthy of my efforts…” The demon said as he looked directly into his eyes.

It was all over. He had lost. He was going to die here and so were all the other, massacred by a ruthless creature that took pleasure in inflicting pain in others… Damn it… How could I let this happen…? He thought with dejection as he felt his consciousness slip away. He felt the weight of his sword in his hand and as he felt like his soul was slowly getting sucked in by the darkness in the creature’s eyes another image flashed in his head and realization dawned on him. This was his chance! He just needed to get close enough to land a blow, this was it… He felt the pommel of his blade start to slip away and swore inwardly. Come on! You can do this! He grunted, trying to make his hand move.

Everything was happening in slow motion now, he felt his fingers move, gripping the blade as he caught it before it fell. He then looked into the demon’s eyes and tried his best to display his determination. He readied his arm, tensing at the pain he felt and he was about to feel. The creature’s eyes narrowed a split second before he struck. Its mouth opened and slowly his opponent looked down at its chest, following his arm, the pommel of his sword and finally the blade which had sunk all the way in its chest. After what seemed an eternity it looked back up and stumbled on its feet.

“H- How…?” Asked the demon, its voice was soft, almost a whisper as incomprehension took the place of surprise.

He saw the creature look up at the sky and the reddish colored moon, its eyes now back to their normal hellish fire and filled of fear. He felt all the anger and the determination he had swell up inside him and forced himself to smile. His breathing was ragged but he still managed to get the words out, the first one since they had started the duel.

“Humans… are not weak…” He said and the creature looked back at him.

“No… no…” The demon’s voice was but a whisper now. “No, no, no… NO!!!” Its voice became louder each time it repeated the word, not believing what was happening.

He felt the grip on his throat loosen and fell to the ground. His vision was getting blurry but he still saw the creature fall to its knees as it pulled his now blood-red blade out of its chest and threw it on the ground. A dark liquid was gushing out of the large wound, forming a pool around the creature’s knees. Come on, die you bastard! He thought, almost praying to all the gods he knew for it to die. The demon looked at the moon for a moment, its breathing getting heavier, before raising a raging fist and letting out a deafening roar. It seemed like an eternity before the sound faded away and he saw the monster slowly fall to the ground, face first.

Its body jerked a few times before becoming completely still. At what seemed to him to be the same time as it drew its last breath a flash of light momentarily blinded him. As his sight came back he noticed that the silver and violet sword had disappeared and that a pool of blood was forming around him too. Breathing was getting more and more difficult, he didn’t have the strength to move anymore but still a small smile formed onto his face as he realized he had killed it. Finally… He let out a painful sigh. Thank you, thank you… He didn’t know who he was thanking but only the gods could have allowed such a miracle to happen. He had defeated the demon… Now they were safe. You are safe… The world around him went dark as the thought crossed his mind. He felt his consciousness slip away as a comfortable cold slowly took over his body.

He was dying and he knew it, but he didn’t care, they were safe and that was all that mattered. They were safe. As the man that his village would later know as a hero lay there, unmoving, the moon’s light slowly went back to its usual bluish color. A small breeze blew over the two corpses, slowly blowing away the demon’s body as if it was sand. That night would later be known as the first night of the red moon, when a demon had been defeated by a brave human who had managed to protect everyone by sacrificing his own life. None knew what happened to him after that though, his body was never found, only his shield with the mighty lion head engraved on the front side, planted in the ground where the fight had taken place.

The death of a king

Posted on May 11, 2015 by Swor under Poetry

There once was an old king,

From a far away land he had come,

Chased away by his kin,

Many years before when the revolt happened.

They said he was a monster,

They said he had to pay with his life

For the sins of his father

And all those that had lived before

So his parents fled their land,

Taking the young child on a long journey

Across oceans and mountains,

Through forests and fields of barley.

They ran and ran and ran,

As fast as they could to escape their pursuers

But hey were caught up with

And only the boy managed to keep going.

He lived a long and full life,

Sometimes looking back towards the land

Where he had come from,

But never halting his march forward.

Every man has to die. It is fact, one day or another each and every one of us will pass on to whatever comes next. Whatever we do, whatever we try, death will always catch us. Wether we are a simple citizen or a king, whether we are rich or poor, whether we are a good man or a bad one. Death will always catch up with us. But that is not necessarily a bad thing, for what would life be if it wasn’t for death? Would we come to appreciate it as much if it never came to an end? No, I don’t believe so. Life is a gift and we have to make the most of it, however hard or painful it is, we have to keep marching forward, we have to keep going. Always.

Versatile Blogger Award Nomination

Posted on April 5, 2015 by Swor under Random

Well, apparently I have just been nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award, or at least I have just noticed I was nominated, by Laura Clark at Inspiredstoriesandpoems so I’m going to do what I should’ve done a few days ago already.

The Award Rules

Thank the person who gave you this award.
Include a link to their blog.
Next, select 15 blogs/bloggers that you follow.
Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award.
Finally, tell 7 things about yourself.

Full details of the award can be found on the VBA website through this link.

Here are the blogs that I, in my great and infinite generosity, nominate for the award :

And of course (I don’t know if it’s allowed but who cares) :

InspiredStoriesAndPoems

And here are 7 facts about my awesome and extremely important life :

I love cheese, potato crisps and sausage/salami.
I’m 20 but I still play Pokemon a lot.
My Pocket Monsters dream team is composed of Snorlax, Sandslash, Scyther, Rayquaza, Lapras, Typhlosion, Leafeon, Pickachu/Raichu and Giratina. (Yeah, it’s more than six but IDC)
I have a younger brother who is annoyingly annoying.
I am annoyingly annoying with my little brother, that’s because I’m still a little kid at heart and I love to play pranks on him.
I have a gorgeous and loving girlfriend which I love.
I want to become super rich and to be able to buy myself a whole library so that I can read all the books when I want to.

Also, thank you again Laura for nominating me! :)

Death is but a transition

Posted on March 27, 2015 by Swor under Shorts, Tales of Ore

“Does the people wish to hear the last words of the criminal?!” Asked the head judge as he stepped on the wooden platform where the man was chained.

Many hands shot up as he asked this question, more than three-quarters of the crowd cheered to manifest their wish to hear his final pleadings to the judges and to the sky to let him live, while the other part of the crowd just wanted to see the execution and the monster, that was still breathing, die before their eyes. None of them were particularly excited by the idea of someone dying before their eyes but he was different, he had been such a pain in their life in his foolish quest to destroy everything. Now he was being punished for his countless crimes and they wanted to see him pay. The soul lance was almost ready and in a few minutes he would his existence would have vanished from this world and they would be at peace again.

“Very well, criminal, you may speak one last time…” Said the middle-aged man who had been presiding over his trial, scratching his long bear at the same time.

The executioners walked to the chained prisoner and proceeded to unbound his mouth before taking a step back to let everyone see him as he spoke. He had short brown hair and a short, well-trimmed beard. His eyes were of a surprising color, in-between pale blue and grey, as he lifted his head to look at the crowd that had gathered before him. He stared at them for a long moment during which everyone held their breath in anticipation before he spoke. His voice was deep and calm as he started to pronounce his last words.

“I am Ascendi, I am the prince and today I am to be executed like a vulgar criminal, here are my words to you. Death is but a transition, life may be taken away from me, I may be reduced to ashes, my soul may leave my body, but do you think that it will stop me? I am Ascendi and I will make this continent crumble, I will make your houses and you palaces, your cities and you countries, turn to rubble under my foot. This will no stop me, nothing will stop me. Death is but a transition…” As his words echoed around the wide square no other sound could be heard, all held their breaths either in shock, fear or anticipation.

The judge gave the order and the executioners took the veil off the large spear that had been levitating over the wooden platform, it started glowing brighter as the put their palms out towards it and started chanting in the ancient language. A few seconds passed, during which they were the only ones who dared speak, then slowly the air started blurring around the length of the lance and red flames appeared, quickly growing and turning to orange, then yellow and finally pure white.

The intensity of the heat and the light that emanated from the flames could be felt all the way to the back of the crowd, people could barely keep their eyes open. The executioners’ chant started getting louder and louder to finally reach its peak as they gave the final words. They both took a step back and the soul lance slowly started getting closer to the man in chains, he stared at the sacred weapon with pride until it reached the center of its chest.

Then it stopped moving but kept getting brighter. The man closed his eyes and opened his mouth, letting out all his rage into a single but powerful cry. It lasted for a number of long seconds, only his voice could be heard now as he was completely engulfed by the light. Then, suddenly, there was an even brighter flash of light that encompassed the whole square. As quickly as it had come the light had vanished, along with the echoes of the criminal’s voice.

When the crowd opened their eyes the only thing that could be seen were the chains that bound him earlier, nothing of the man remained, he had completely vanished and the spear had found it place back in the center of the wooden platform. It was once more covered with the veil by the executioner before the judge walked to the crowd.

“The criminal has been executed!” He exclaimed before turning around and leaving the platform as cheers erupted from the crowd.

To the sky…

Posted on March 12, 2015 by Swor under Poetry

Some, often many, say

There is only one way

For us all, when we die,

To raise up to the sky.

They say we have to be

At all times pious, good,

But most importantly

Never in the wronghood.

They tell us what is right,

What is wrong, what is sin,

Who is banned from His sight

And who we should’ve been,

When all we want to be,

Is, quite simply, happy.

Tales of Ore

Mainly poetry

Tag Archives: fantasy