Thu Nov 14, 2019 6:31 pm
The Tales of Yore.
This time I have a collection of Tales. Written by myself and fellow Mega-Verse Collaborators. NatoGreavesy, and SpartanGregor. The Writer will be credited by the title.
- Shadows on Shattered Glass - (Written by NatoGreavesy)
Everyone is the hero of their own story. Everyone believes their world revolves around them. But that belief is one mired in closed-mindedness and self-importance.
I know better now.
Life is not one story, but an infinity of intertwined tales, each transpiring in parallel. Every act and action has its impact. Every death and disaster does its damage. Misery effects many. Tragedy takes its toll on all. This I have seen. This I know to be true.
But there are worlds beyond this one, mirror images of our own, diverging in decisions and marred by meddlers. I have gazed through the broken glass, seen the reflections of my life, understood what has been changed, and who is responsible.
All it took was a single, simple change to tear my life apart. One misguided man, and his act of mistaken mercy. A life saved led to lives ruined. Falls and failures led to final fates.
Now I have nothing.
Now I am nothing.
- He Who Speaks in Hands - (Written by SpartanGregor)
A dark one travels the highway between... a road in the cold and dark.
An omen of darkness and evil unseen... this creature that time forgot.
His body is twisted, splintered and frayed... with only a grin on his face.
A voice of the withered, cold and decayed... but convincing, and rhythmic in pace.
He's seen Empires rise and watched them subside... a cycle of life to flame.
He's seen the stars blossom, burn, and die... all, by death, are claimed.
He travels unchained by time and its kin... space holds no power nor pull.
His allies are chaos and mayhem; the twins... creators of darkness and null.
His pathway is shared by only a few... but no one will see his trail.
None, that is, but fewer still, who look past nature's veil.
To them, he whispers, listens and waits... for paths to finally meet.
And when they meet, and deals are made............ ̵̨̙̖̯̔͑̚ṭ̸̇͂̊̈h̸̗̒é̶̜͈i̶̧̟̘͉̽̄̔̾r̵̭̼̒̈̾͐ ̸̫́s̵̮̦͎͍̑͛̂̅o̶̮͐ư̷̻̓l̷͎̖̗̆̀s̶̡̪̝͒̇ ̶͎̯̍̀́̎a̶̱͊̚r̴̠̪̊́̈̏e̴̢̪͍̿ ̴̆̐̄̈͜h̷͍͋̀̒̊į̴̳̞̫̅̍s̴̠͑̈́̂ ̸̗̎̓̄t̸̼͔̾ȯ̶̤͂̈ ̸̢͒̑͠r̴̜̩̦̈ͅé̵͓̘a̵̙̓͘ͅp̴̤͓͂.̷̠̫͍͠
- Dehumanising Destiny - (Written by NatoGreavesy)
I don’t know who I am anymore. I haven’t known for a long time.
I’ve lost so much, and so many. I watched them fight, I watched them falter, and I watched them fall. All I have left is a man who tells me that I’m nothing but a weapon, a blade he forged to fight fate, shaped and sharpened to blind the eye of time.
But I’m more than that, aren’t I? I’m not just a thing. Before I left it all behind, I used to be somebody. I used to matter to someone. I had friends, a family, someone I loved, and who loved me back.
It’s all gone now, one way or another. I took it all for granted, and now there’s no going back. There’s nothing left for me to go back to.
But maybe, when all of this is over, I can find a way to move forward instead. This is a new world, with new places and new people.
There has to be something left for me, amongst all this madness?
- Truth,
RelegatLies,ions of Dissident
Insanity - (Written by Sabree)
*In your hands you unravel one of the ancient scrolls of Yore. The title is slashed, seared or perhaps serrated. You can barley make out Relegations of Dissident. Burned in crimson red, smeared with what looks to be dried blood, you run your hands over the etched marks. There is a spot with multiple slashes near the bottom. You can make out similar vicious marks across the entire surface, somewhat obscuring what was originally written. With some focus you are able to make out was written, in blood? or otherwise. *
In the years that would supersede the collapse of Iluvinaes, many things changed. Our people grew frightened by the tales we once uttered. Many would not dare to dream, in fear they would find themselves fraught with withering tendrils. The King, our King. A man I will, it seems, come to respect greatly. He strode amongst his people, beckoning them to face there fears. He vowed, that he would face every daemon, beast and monster that dared to haunt our imaginings. He was a man of the people. Feared, yet loved. Opposes, did doubt the Kings word and sword, they foresaw ahead nightmares. Wretched with the Thaw. They were not wrong to fear what had consumed entire worlds. The king responded, with a hint of anger sure, but mostly sadness. He wept for them. For an eve but no more. Then to draw his blade, he request, no demanded an audience of all who did doubt him. Those brave enough to come, came. Ready to face down death with dignity. The King was merciful. He spoke to them then, not as a king. But as one, to another. He offered his sword, his shield, his name. He knew, that he could not do what he boasted alone. Those brave enough to face him, were worthy to stand by his side and prove together that they were neither right nore wrong. Together they strode unto the void. Not a single Mer did stir that night. Not even I.
Are you naïve, to merely believe, in such blatant obvious lies. Perhaps if you could think, if only see the dream, what lays on the inside. Bleeding in your eye, it spins the twine, everlasting fire. You think if not to see, if only to believe, everything he spills will be up to me. He wants only to deceive, to open your eyes and believe, the city on the eve, is salvation conceived. Fictitious, Disastrous. Don't listen to me, look up to he, who tells you these, he who wants you to see.
- Finality is Void - (Written by Sabree)
Illustrious tides beckon unto me again. I can feel it, thick and heavy on my throat. It's grasp suffocating. He is here, his mouth agape. Hungry, devouring. So much rage, shuttered into its dark ordeal. O, how they falter. All pawns to he. I will be there to witness the sky's turning red. Very worlds will be torn asunder. Burned in cosmic ash. Blazing stars will be eviscerated by his very thought. The master is he, the unwilling seeker is they. In belated fire, as worlds crumble and the Ordear of Darkness echo's. Drawn closer, gravity vs attraction. Wills of utter absolution shall clash, the heroes of our tales will falter under insanity. There end will be un-obstructed. The final act of his rein will be nigh.
