It feels like it's been years, on the outside. It /has/ been years, but I just saw you again, didn't I? You're worthy of admiration, as always. But it's the first time for you, every time. I'm not sure how I feel about that anymore. I love you. I(more) want to stay with you. I could die for you. I did die, over and over, but... I'm sorry. There are so many things I didn't account for, but that feels like an excuse. I'm sorry I hurt you. Again.
I've seen so many things, now. So many worlds. Under the multitude of starry skies there is one constant - you're not someone who should die. Please believe me. You are the future, always. At least I was right about that from the beginning. I will continue to fight for you, no matter how long it takes. I still have hope, because I chose to have hope. Will is not a fickle thing. I believe. I couldn't not. I believe that this time I'll make you happy. I'm sure of it. Wait for me.
(If I could have one request, I'd like to stay by your side... Wherever, whatever, it doesn't matter.
"Whatever," the mantra of the teenage years was never something that affected Anora Avalon. Sure, sometimes she thought it and thought it loudly but she knew that it was a product of hormones and not really something that she should ever let past her lips.
The only time sh(more)e ever actually uttered the word was with her brother Adrian, he thought he was more worldly than her and was forever trying to tell her what to do. They teased each other about it. He would tell her that he was older and so she should respect him.
In return she told him that he was older by five minutes and she highly doubted that he had gained any valuable life experience in that span of time. He would tell her that at the end of it he had gained the most precious piece of knowledge on earth. The knowledge that he would never be alone on this earth. The he world grab her and bear hug her until she was laughing and tickling him in return.(less)
"You mean I can make anything here?" Corvus asked. He had seen strong magic before, done a lot of it himself, and while the Dark Forge, if that's where this really was, seemed impressive in a lonely sort of way, he wasn't sure if it would live up to(more) the claims that he had heard. Forging weapons of world slaying power...could that be done on this dismal little planetoid?
The Smith laid one of his massive hands atop the polished surface of the lone anvil that seemed to be thrusting its way up out of the dark rock. "You can make whatever you wish," he said. "For a price." The anvil seemed to shine a little brighter at those words. Its surface was smooth, and didn't look like someone had ever pounded on it with a hammer. It was so glossy it reflected the stars perfectly, almost like...Corvus blinked to clear his eyes. The Forge was confusing his sight. For a moment it had seemed like the reflected stars were not reflections at all, but were INSIDE the anvil.(less)
I was going to write a story about a guy that is in love with this girl that only comes in the summer and how each year he tries to improve and each year he fails and realizes no matter how good he looks, how fit he is, how(more) smart and social he becomes, he hasn't changed a bit. It was going to reflect life's insecurities and the theme was that improvement shouldn't be the real goal and only for insecure people. But then I realized nobody cares and I don't care about my own writing and that this was just me trying to improve my writing, and become better than myself like the guy in the story.
I realized it doesn't matter and doesn't bring me joy. I would only be happy if others would recognize me for my skill and that means I'm not doing this for me I'm doing it for my pathetic image. That means I have to stop writing. I'm done. Whatever.(less)
"Lord Thomas Bard, Emissary of Underhill" The Queen's secretary announced as the tall, spare man walked through the door and bowed before her.
"Well met, Lord Bard." Sophia gestured for the man to rise. "Lord Leander said you had a question for me."
Sophia saw the man's shoulders rela(more)x at the omission of the royal pronoun. "Yes majesty, I thank you for granting me audience."
"And so?" Sophia said, leaning back in her chair, watching the young man before her. He was young, no more than nineteen, with a good natured face, kind hazel eyes and a strong, stubborn jaw. He had a prominent, slightly hooked nose and a nervous smile. His light brown hair was slightly wavy and fell in profusion to his collar where it curled at the ends.
After a few moments, Thomas sighed. "Majesty, there is simply no delicate way to put this, I'm in love with your granddaughter."
Sophia allowed a smile to cross her features, "and so?"
"I ask your permission to pay her court. I would make her my wife." Thomas' ears flushed red and Sophia smiled again.
"Granted, though the person you should be talking to is Sebastian."
Thomas looked startled, "but you are matriarch?"
"You did no wrong in asking my permission." Sophia reassured Thomas. "It will pave your way with Sebastian."
Thomas bowed again, "thank you majesty."
"Do not thank me, you have a bit of work before you." Sitting forward in her chair, Sophia stared at Thomas. "And of course if you hurt her, well, Gaul is large and parts of it are still quite wild."
Thomas nodded, "I understand you utterly, Majesty. No one would never find my body."
"You have my blessing Lord Bard. I wish you luck." the Queen sat back in her chair again.(less)
Its like I've spent most of my life in a waiting room, reading trashy magazines and picking the stuffing from well-worn chairs, waiting for someone to call my name--but I never even made an appointment. The doctor I'm waiting for has never heard of me(more), I never even told the secretary I'm there. I'm just sitting, waiting, hoping someone notices the girl with the square glasses sitting in the corner and when no one does I pretend its their fault.
I watch people come and I don't let them get too close to me. I give them my name, muse them with small talk and wait for them to leave, because they always leave. And when they do I shake my head and act as if I'm okay with it. I don't say 'come back' I don't ask for their phone numbers I just sink further and further into myself.
And I wait in this stupid waiting room doing the same thing I've been doing my entire life, waiting for someone to call my name when I've made zero effort to let the staff know I'm there. I sit and act as if I'm important when really all I've accomplished is finding the perfect excuses to hide behind.(less)