When that time rolls around again perhaps I wont be as disappointing in the result. If I work towards it, I know I can make a better resolution then previously.
This is what I tell myself but I harden my heart expecting disappointment anyway. I feel mysel(more)f doing it as I try to think positively. These intrusive feelings always come. I can't stop them. I feel trapped.
I'm so easily influenced by my own mind. It's frustrating. My successes is ridding on my ability to break free and go beyond myself. Just once would be enough. Then I would know it was possible and perhaps I could do it a second time.
Perhaps more then for my goal to be achieved I hope for that initial validation. (less)
I came to the clearing of white barked forest. in the middle of the clearing there was a huge stump the size of a kings bed and on that stump a faun played a flute.
He had brown fur, black hooves and two short horns sprouted fro(more)m his curly hair. I drew my sword a lowered my visor with 'shunk'. "Great forest spirit, I come seeking your wisdom."
He ignored me.
I stood there looking foolish for a moment then said "I can- please. Just answer one question. How am I to defeat the demon at Rivia?"
The faun played a sour note. I couldn't see his face but he was shacking.
Shacking with laughter. He burst into giggles and fell on his side. "You-" he couldn't contain himself, "your going to challenge the- ah ha ha ha!"
My checks grew hot and I lowered my visor. The tip of my sword fell. "I fail to see what's so amusing."
The fauns regained his composure and wiped a tear away. He seated himself on the stump. He leaned forward with his hands in his lap, head tilted slightly like a little boy with a secret he might be willing to share. "Oh, you have no chance against that beast, mhmm. Perhaps if you unlisted the aid of, say, the stone wall giant."
The Faun looked at me expectantly. He wanted his payment up front. "I have gold or-"
The faun made a dismissive sound. "I do not accept useless trinkets. For my fee i'll need something much more valuable." He looked me up and down. "I could take your courage. What little you have that is. How about your eyes? Or your heart?"
My insides fell. I did have something valuable, something I regretted parting with. "How about this?" (less)
The crew trickled out from below deck as the sun peaked its face through the waning clouds. the fat cog was adrift. the ships rudder trailed uselessly, mast leaning over the railing as if it were see sick. there was no spare.
When the storm had hit(more) four days ago two men had been lost overboard. one was swept away by the waves, the other drowned going after him. the moron had put a rope between his teeth and dived over board. He was lost in seconds and stone-hearted men pulled the limp lifeline back without him attached.
Cramped together with the barrels of wine bellow deck. the crew had rotated between patient and caregiver as each took their turns being ill from the ceaseless motion. By the second day the crew were stinking and crazy. Fights broke out but they were weak and couldn't last long. The storm seemed to be a torture without end.
Eventually the deck ceased swaying and the wind died down. The crew shook off their melancholy one by one and stepped out of the cargo hold. they stretched and mourned the loss of their mast. gowning they retrieved the oars. It would be a long way from there. (less)
From the throat of the cavern there wafted a putrid smell like boiled beetroot and glue. The three explorers caught their breaths as they steeped into the atrium of the dragons maw. The miasma wasn't poisonous, as the research scouts had assured them, but it was the kind of(more) smell that a person couldn't get used to and forget.
The men affixed douf corp. fiber masked to their faces and clicked on their helmet lights. The glass like black walls of the throat shimmered and socked it up greedily.
The microscopic structure of the alien material leading and teasing scientific endeavors but giving away no secrets as to its origins or mechanisms. It's perplexingly simple face-centered cubic lattice promised advancements from computer processing to quieter engines.
The dragons throat, or just the throat as it was more commonly called, was the only documented instance of the phenomenon. Copious amounts of money had been sunk into researching it but safety regs insisted no maned team could enter until it was declared "a zone of acceptable risk."
The tests had finished. The mission statement had been proposed, reviewed and rewritten to the satisfaction of the board of eminently rich benefactors.
They had screened candidates for intrepid, resourcefulness and not a small mount of expertise. The men who had ended up being chosen weren't exactly Neil, Buzz and Collins. But they had all displayed in their own way, a certain subtle genius.
The board of the eminently rich had also given their profiles their stamp of approval. Which didn't hurt their chances. After, to the board the men weren't just being trusted with what could be the most important discovery of the decade. they were also trusting them with copious amounts of their money. (less)