The Celestial Rift

Long ago, when the skies were still young and the earth was vast and wild, they reigned over everything that was.

The Sun, bright and powerful, was the king of Day, bringing warmth and power to all.

The Moon, softly glowing and graceful, was queen of the Night and mother in the dark sky.

Each of them was the ruler of an endless kingdom; they followed each other, dancing a never-ending dance.

But the Sun, even in his infinite brilliance and power, was jealous of the Moon and her soft beauty.

He saw the charming radiance of his nocturnal counterpart as an unequalled perfection, more beautiful than his own.

He therefore devised a plan to gain supremacy over the Moon. For days and nights he tirelessly worked to breathe life to a new creation.

On the fourth day he finished and on the fifth night he finally revealed his creation to the Moon.

As soon as the last lights of day vanished he released thousands upon thousands of shining jewels into the aether.

“I have named them Stars”, he said to the Moon as she curiously watched him unveil his work. “A gift for you my Lady.”

The Lady of the Night revelled in this newfound beauty and found herself unable to look away for a long moment.

Finally she praised the Sun for his marvellous work, enthralled by its magnificence.

“How shall I ever repay you for this infinite kindness my Lord?”, she finally asked.

The Sun replied it was a gift and therefore there was no need for repayment but the Moon insisted and the Sun replied he would think about it.

By the second day after his work had been completed the Sun returned to the Moon.

“There is no need for you to repay me other than with the joy I saw in you at the sight of my creation…”, the Sun said.

“But,” he continued as the Moon was about to protest once more, “if so is your wish then here is what I offer…”.

The Sun asked the Moon with giving ‘substance’ to the aether, a task he knew impossible, even for him.

Giving ‘substance’ to a void of substance so vast and dark was something unthinkable…

But the Moon in her excitement at the idea of being able to repay her counterpart, agreed with no reserve.

For many days and nights the Moon lay pensive, under the newly created shining dome that filled the sky, trying to solve the Sun’s unsolvable puzzle.

Finally, after what seemed like and eternity to her, she realized the only way to do it would be to use all her power.

It was a dangerous task, even for her, an astral being, but she was willing to try to repay the Sun’s kindness.

The Sun watched all of this with a fierce fire burning inside of him.

The Moon, once her task was decided, set on to complete it, just as the Sun, she tirelessly worked but for many more days and nights.

Her brilliance was even more beautiful and graceful as she worked hard on her task and the Sun couldn’t help but being captivated by it.

Finally her own creation was ready and she waited the following night to unveil it to the Sun.

The Sun, of course, had watched all of it and he knew the Moon had put all her heart and her soul into her work.

Her genuine will to repay him stirred a wave of remorse inside him as she was about to unveil her creation.

But it was too late, the Moon offered him the gift and the Sun had to accept it.

He opened it, releasing the newly created ‘substance’ into the aether and for a moment he thought she had succeeded.

He stared into the endless sky, amazed by the ocean of shimmering beauty that was spreading between the stars and filling the void.

The Sun almost wished that it didn’t stop and that it completed itself.

Unfortunately the magic didn’t last, it was not powerful enough, and the spell broke.

The ocean fell apart and faded into the void, leaving only a feeling of emptiness inside the Sun’s heart.

He turned to his nightly counterpart to comfort her, unable to withstand the wave of sadness he knew would fill her whole being but it was too late.

The tears had already rolled on the Lady of the Night’s ivory skin and she was pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You set an impossible task for me,” she said in a voice as cold as ice, “you knew it was impossible and yet you still asked this of me.”

“My heart and soul went in this gift for you and yet you cannot be contempt… Your wish cannot be fulfilled…”

“I will remember this ’til eternity, the shame, the anger and the emptiness will never leave me…”

“Living with this knowledge will now be your burden, your curse… For I curse you to know the pain I feel!”, the Moon said before vanishing.

The Sun, for the first time since he could remember, felt something far greater than physical pain and far more real than excitement: regret.

He tried to help her but it was too late, the Lady of the Night was gone, her brilliance had faded away, her power was gone and her heart was empty.

Never did he see her smile or her pale grace tenderly wrap around the world again, the nights had gone dark and cold with only his creation to light them.

He could feel the regret, the anger and the bitterness that were slowly eating at her heart and consuming her but was cursed to be unable to help.

Another eternity seemed to pass as he waited, looking at the lost Lady who was now unable to shine her peace on the world and longing for her return.

She was but a lost child, wandering the sky without a purpose or a goal… longing for her lost radiance…

But it would never returned, it could never return. He had made sure of that he had thought up the task he would give her.

Nothing would ever be the same again. But what was all this power and brilliance if he couldn’t share it with her? His heart wanted to break a million times.

The Moon was consumed but her emptiness and her regret, slowly her heart turned dark with thoughts of revenge.

Making the Sun know and regret what he had done wasn’t enough anymore, she had lost it all. He also had to feel it…

She thought of many ways to get revenge but in her immense knowledge she knew of no solution… None she could use now at least…

Her despair was growing and she thought it was all lost, however the demon race offered her a pact.

Her brilliance and power restored in exchange for her blessing.

Blinded by pain and the prospect of revenge the Moon gave way to her hatred.

The demons taught her a powerful but complicated spell and helped her use it to restore her power.

She thought of having been betrayed once more when, once the spell done, nothing had changed.

But her power was indeed restored and slowly she felt her aura become more brilliant once more.

It grew and grew, brighter and brighter, lighting the heavens and the earth in a light even more brilliant than that of the Sun.

Too late however the Moon realized her mistake, her aura had become crimson red and her once brilliant and pure blue glow had transformed into a blood-red light.

Too late she realized that the demon race was planning to use the spell to do the unthinkable.

The Sun rushed to her help, using all his power to free her from the spell but the harm had been done.

“The harm you have done me, nothing can ever repair it, nothing can ever heal the wound inside my heart…”

“But I forgive you for now I understand how foolish one can be when blinded by temptation…”

“It is too late for me my friend… No longer can I share your burden, no longer will the world know my love for it…”

“But you know. Atone for your sin by remembering my legacy…”

The spell the demons had created was too powerful to be fought and the Moon could barely resist it.

The Sun could only watch with despair as the queen of the Night let herself be consumed by it.

“It is the only way…”, he heard her whisper as she faded away into the void, leaving behind her only a large scar in the heavens.

A scar of dust glowing in a soft blue light.


Okay, this is something that I’ve been thinking about for a few days now and that I’ve spent the whole evening writing.

I’m really inspired by this story and I think that I managed to get the story-telling right and the character quite right too.

It is still far from finished/perfect, -though I’m a bit proud of myself, it’s not so bad for a first draft is it?- and will need some rework but I wanted to share it immediately with you guys.

Hope you enjoy! ;)

 

Pope’s Lock

.

Pope’s Lock

.

For a small lock of hair

Not brilliant, not shiny,

Not precious, but rusty,

Lost to the lady fair

.

They fought so hard and true

Batteling fro and to

Fists banging, swords clashing,

Cries and shouts resounding

.

The furniture was trashed

Walked upon, thrown around,

Blood was shed, flesh wounded

.

As, all around, fighted,

All for honor of fair

A lady’s lock of hair.

Love, mom.

Love, mom.

.

Mother died this morning.

I never did love her very much. I’ve always preferred father to her. I don’t really know why though.

They say she fell down the stairs, broke her neck on the wooden floor.

She didn’t love me either, always telling me to go play elsewhere or to leave her alone because she was too busy to deal with me. 

Her face was stiff but calm when I saw her, there was a pallor to her skin that suited her well.

Strangely I’ve never resented her for not paying attention to me, I just stopped caring.

They told me she had something like stroke and lost her balance on the first step. A silly accident.

She never tried to improve our relationship either, she completely let go of our ties.

Apparently they found a few letters she had written that were addressed to me in her drawers. They said they’ll send them over soon.

I don’t think I’ll go to her funeral. I only went to dad’s because she wasn’t there

I’ve never thought the police to be very efficient, this time isn’t an exception to that rule.

I would’ve like to not be noticed if possible, to not even know. But apparently it’s the procedure.

They didn’t think to check if slipping and falling like that was possible.

I’ll have to throw my gloves away. I like them though. Shame…

This morning, mother died.

Such poetry, very wow.

Revel in my talent.

*

This is just a poem made out of random words,

It has not a meaning nor any real purpose,

But notice how it works despite being senseless,

‘Tis the most majestic of all existing turds.

.

Without any real thought and so lacking in depth,

Without any grammar or respect for language,

Oh, only he who writes, decides what he doeth,

And only he can choose what words go on his page.

.

Writing some poetry isn’t complicated,

Just find a good rhythm and then make the words rhyme,

Whatever the order, it will work out. Sometime.

.

You will get there whether or not you’re talented,

Just think of a colour, add a deep emotion,

And all that’s left to do is a tree to mention.


Oh but do try to make it readable though.

And yeah, I did just write that…

Three men in the desert

 

They walk the walk and talk the talk

Walking the plains of desert lands

Roaming the dark and grey expanse

They talk the talk and walk the walk

.

Ever wandering in circles

Again and again, round and round

Oh, following an endless trail

Those three strange men in the desert.

.

Footsteps in sand, shadows in dust

They dream greatness but one day must,

For time away, old age come, rust.

.

Their journey is long, dangerous

But time is rare, even precious

And they cannot stray from their course.

In these locks

In these locks

.

Not before did I understand,

In all those songs and all my reads,

The true value of these long strands,

The real beauty of those thin threads.

.

Her hair was long and cascading

Of warm bronze colour, calm beauty,

Oh, all these years – how many? –

Took it to grow to this dreaming?

.

If I could touch, if I could feel,

If in these soft locks I could pass

My fingers and, oh so gently…

If, just for a second, I dared…

 

Welcome to life.

I feel crazy. I’m excited, elated, unable to rest, focus nor calm down. Ideas, so many ideas. Or, more seriously, flashes, bribes, pieces of ideas, coming, going, dancing all around me, toying with me, my emotions and my memory. I have beginnings, ends and a thousand romances in between my fingers but none of them can I write down because of this unstable state of mind. Jumping from Ore to Alexandre then to the one with the magic ink writer back to the Halfling and so on and so forth. every moment of every second! I want to make something out of this, out of these ideas. Something good, something great, I want to write, to tell my stories, but I can’t… not until I settle down and make a choice, decide, choose, set the course and follow a single path. So many possibilities. Exhilerating, annoying, awesome feeling but frustrating. With ifs I could rebuild the world from scratch. But that’s not what I wanna do, I want to build my world from scratch. I want to, I need to, I have to, I will. But how? When? Soon. Perhaps. I hope. I can’t decide. I can’t write if I can’t decide. I have to write. Damn it!


 

So this is something that I wrote an evening, a few days ago, as I was trying to write something but couldn’t manage for my life to write down anything I had in mind. I just went with the feeling and let the pen do what it had to, I let my hand guide itself and came up with this rant. I don’t know why but tonight a song reminded me of this rant and the feeling I had in my heart while I was writing it. I have such amazing stories to write, such great ideas I don’t manage to make the most of… It’s extremely frustrating! You can’t even imagine! Or perhaps you can, I don’t know… But I the worst is that I realized that this doesn’t only apply to my writing, it also happens in the rest of my life too!I’m not someone who can manage to get motivated without any reason or to be serious and dedicated in doing things.

‘I have beginnings, ends and a thousand romances in between my fingers but none of them can I write…’

Especially my studies and finding a job.I try but not enough and, as soon as it gets hard or complicated I avoid it as best I can. Unconsciously or consciously I don’t know but it does happen. And in writing it happens too, I try but when I struggle I move on to something else and don’t try hard enough… It’s a big problem. I realize that but getting over it is extremely hard. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, at least not easily or very quickly, but I am working on it. I will be trying harder, even my hardest, to work on my writings because it’s one of the only things I really feel motivated for! Also I will try to apply some of that motivation to my studies, I like what I’m doing this year, I can’t screw things up, I have to suck it up and just do it.

If I try hard enough then, one day, perhaps…

Anyway, I’m not here to rant, just to try to explain what motivated me to write this and what I feel. I don’t know why, I just had to do it… I think that this song is not for nothing in this feeling : “J’essaye, j’essaye” from the Casseurs Flowters, a french singer (or band I don’t really know), which I just discovered and fell in love with. I’m not usually a fan of the genre of music they make but this time I seem to really be growing fond of it. Both the melody and the lyrics stir something inside me in a way that I don’t really understand but that I can feel deeply. Especially during the parts where the old woman sings. I can’t explain it, I can just feel it. It’s a bit like when I read poems that, without knowing, I end up loving for reasons unknown to me. And I wanted to share it a bit with you, somehow hoping you could get what I feel or at least what I mean or try to mean…

Anyways, that’s all for tonight, thank you all and enjoy. :)

♪ J’essaye, j’essaye de faire de mon mieux et je m’ennuie quand tout devient sérieux. ♫

(I don’t know if you’ll be able to understand the lyrics but both the meaning and the melody are worth listening to, at least they really get to me.)


Oh, and just before I go : no Echoes of Power tonight, I have literally no idea about how I’m going to write the next part which is very important and is going to (hopefully) start the really interesting part of the story (I also have very little motivation, which really doesn’t help). So yeah, no update on that side today, hopefully tomorrow I’ll have figured out how I want to write this and with great luck you might even get two parts instead of one. Who knows… In the mean time, have a great evening and see you later.

Anything hallow, anything mellow.

*

This story took place, be told my deary,

By a night like this, cold and dreary.

Came a strange fellow, old and weary,

On a steed of stone, mold mystery,

He offered riches, golden jewelry,

To those who would dare, bold and fiery,

Bear an ancient curse, ten fold eery,

Then, vanishing in the wold, leery.