Prologue
"In this time the only law was to live or die." The story began this way for centuries. That's what Avalon loved about it. It had such rich history. She remained silent as she waited for the storyteller to continue. "A more savage time then you could ever have remembered young one. When an innocent could be slain for blood as a right, not a punishment. To die was an honor. To live was a curse." The storyteller paused looking at Avalon with a grim smile before continuing. "This a tale of the heavy heart. Dear one. Stay close to me, and I will tell you. Don't say I didn't warn you though. Your mind can not possible comprehend the events I'm about to spin for you. My webs of sorrow.. not lies."
The youth looked up at her wise grandmother with soul interest. A slight fear in her as she sits by her, but he curiosity stronger. The old woman licked her lips and took a deep exaggerated breath before continuing. Avalon held her own anxious for her to proceed in telling the story. "It was ages before my own ancestors had even discovered the idea of riding these demons. To feel the thrill of battle. It was also before we realized that the demons and creatures could understand or feel like we do. They were thought as heartless animals with the soul purpose to exterminate us, and to be destroyed in return." Avalon closed her eyes imagining the battle field between the two most dominant beings on the food chain. Man and demon. "The Seraphs." The old woman began. "Were the first to attempt at giving the demons rights. To try and communicate with them. Thus began the revolt. Which ultimately lead us to our doom...
...2
100 B.R(Before Rights)... Journal of the mage3
My heart joins the thousands. As our friends cease fighting today. Their lives finally at peace as soon will I. Their is no greater joy in the world than death. We drink to them and parade around the streets causing a mockery of ourselves. Drinking was the dull reliever of our pain, but it was only temporary. I hope to soon join them. Alas. My usefulness has not ended. Until I write again. I hope I do not. But if I am to still be alive. I do. 4
...5
Chapter One
The heavy steps of the soldiers marching the deserted valley could be heard again as well as the endless cries of pain and war. The once flourishing crops withered and died years ago, and the once majestic river dried and cracked under the weight of thousands. Drumming in the ears of the shadowed beast. His long powerful body grasping the limbs of the thick tree above the endless swarm brutes. A powerful growl erupting from his throat, but he does not alert the men below of his presence. His eyes blazing in disgust and hate of the disgusting species under him that refer to themselves as the Reincarnated. An unforgettable horn blares in the distance making the Reincarnated stampede instantly. The Gods and Goddesses above a blue and orange glow in the form of devastating storm that roared over head. No sooner had the two armies collided with sword and claws did the rain pour down against their blood stained armor. Lashing his tail the demon strained to keep himself perched where he was as the Seraphs and demons came into sight charging to their deaths at their enemies. No one would win this battle. They all knew that to. He winced while witnessing the devastation. The slaughter between the right and the wrong. Struggling the demon stayed where he was and soon drowned in the agony and horror. The sounds of war blurring and his vision fading as he drifted to sleep in the tree's safe embrace. Consumed by the angry souls of the dead the demon slept only from exhaustion. Nothing could wake him.
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You'll have to wait. I will say that most of my dreams inspire most drawings and poetry I do. Unless it's something that really is bugging me and pops in my head. Any who. I might have to make a poem/story of any dream I had years ago but sadly reoccurred and is sort of a nightmare.
