a l l i e

"Who I am and what I want are a secret."

Another adventure gone, another one begins.

Such is life, no? It never fails to give you something to do. I guess that's why such things happen; they want to make your life more beneficial...give you something to remember, telling you that, "Hey, at least you did this, right?"

I suppose I could subscribe to that.

In any case, that is now what I am here to talk about, neither am I going to talk about half the things that are going on in my life right now. That's not the reason why I made this blog. But...if anything, I can say one thing though; I'm more determined this time. And I will make things right. I have to.

That story I will save for another day, today, I will tell you a different one...

- - - - -

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a kingdom ruled by a king whose rule was fair and just. Since his ascend to the throne at the age of eighteen, the kingdom bloomed and prospered under his rule. The people of his kingdom loved their king and the soldiers and knights were loyal enough to die in his service.

But for a kingdom that prospered and a king that ruled justly, war was a rare occasion. The king was tactful enough to maintain good relationships with other kingdoms.

For thirty years, he was a happy king for as he ruled the kingdom, he had his loving wife, the queen, to support him every time he falls. He was blessed with two sons and loved them both very much.

The two sons were very close, often helping each other whenever they get into trouble.

On the king's fortieth year of rule, his beloved queen passed away. He grieved for her death and slowly, the kingdom slowly lost its glory.

Not long after that, he fell into a sickness that took away his ability to walk. Knowing that his end was near, he named his eldest son as the heir to the throne.

The eldest son knew that it was his duty to ascend to the throne, and thus, he accepted his duties. However, he was unaware of his youngest brother's flaring jealousy.

On the fiftieth year of the king's rule, the king finally released his final breath and died peacefully. For a long time, the people grieved on the passing of their beloved king.

The eldest brother was named king and soon after that was his coronation.

On the day of the coronation, just as the eldest brother was about to receive the crown that signifies him as the official king, the youngest brother summoned his army and attacked everyone present in the ceremony.

The eldest brother managed to escape the massacre, but left the kingdom with a broken heart. So, he wandered across the continent, trying to just die as he wandered...until he came across a certain something that changed everything.

While the elder brother fled the kingdom, the younger brother took over the throne and became king.

But after ruling for so long, he suddenly thought of his beloved brother and how horrible he was back in the past. He felt the guilt in him and at that moment, the love for his eldest brother returned.

He sent out search parties to look for his brother and after months of searching, he finally found his beloved brother.

The eldest brother returned, carrying a strange sword with him. Many noticed the change within the eldest brother, and most concluded that he was not the same person he was before this. Soothsayers warned of an approaching danger to not only the king, but the entire kingdom itself. Yet the younger brother denied their words and welcomed his brother with open arms.

There was a feast made in honour of his brother's return and for three days and three nights, they dined and celebrated. And for three days and three nights, the eldest brother remained silent.

On the fourth night, when everyone was fast asleep (including the younger brother), the eldest brother began his revenge.

In the dead of the night, he slaughtered every single one of the people who lived in the kingdom. No one was spared, not even children or women.

No one but the current king, the younger brother.

But that was momentarily, of course.

When the younger brother woke up, all that he saw was blood. All that littered around him were corpses. All that he smelled was death. And before him was Death himself, in the form of his eldest brother.

The younger brother begged for him to be spared, reminding him of the brotherly love they had for each other. But the eldest brother stood there, his face revealing nothing but emptiness. There was no love in him for the younger brother, or the kingdom, or anyone else for that matter. There was nothing in him.

And so, the eldest brother raised his sword and smite it down on his defenseless younger brother.

Then there was absolute silence.

The eldest brother took the crown from his younger brother's head with his sword and walked all the way into the throne room.

He sat on the throne and struck his sword to the ground. The crown was then placed on the pommel of his sword and remained there, unmoved.

And there he sat.

And there he closed his eyes.

And there he ruled the land of the dead.

There, he waited.

- - - - -

I think I've posted this before. Somewhere. I don't remember.

Something tells me that I should work on this one too.

But when you have so many other things in your head, it makes you wonder when you'd be able to spare some time for the others. This isn't the only one that is still labeled as WIP; there is plenty.

And I am determined to finish them.

One by one.

P.S. I meet all sorts of interesting people everyday. I hope to keep meeting them. They're my source of inspiration, and my reason to keep doing what I'm doing. =]

I watched her as she grew.

I watched her as she created her dreams.

I watched as they tore her out from her dreams.

I watched as she was tossed into this cruel, cruel world.

I watched, oh-so-painfully, as she created a fragile bubble around her from the fragments of her dreams.

I watched the bubble burst.

I watched it formed around her again.

Burst.

Create.

Burst.

Create.

Hardened.

I watched as she trapped herself within that hardened shell of a bubble.

I watched as the surface of that shell formed faces attached with different emotions to it.

Sorrow.

Humility.

Sacrifice.

And joy. Plenty of joy.

But they were mere masks, for she remained hidden, protected within that shell. There, she dreamed of endless pastures, of bliss, of company, of love.

I watched as a crack began to form around that shell, and saw her peek out from within it.

I watched as another being approached her and offered her his hand.

I watched as she took it into her hand and held it for a very long time, feeling the warmth that is reality and not the coldness of dreams.

I watched as she suddenly released that hand and retreated deeper into her shell, forming more surfaces across the already hardened shell around her.

I watched as the faces around the shell began to twist and turn, forming strange and odd expressions.

Fear.

Lust.

Loathe.

Submission.

BLANK.

I watched as more and more beings begin to gather around her, in an attempt to crush the shell hid herself in.

I watched as she screamed in protest, like the selfish little girl she is. She formed more surfaces, only to watch it shatter before her very eyes.

I watched as the shell began to crack open, and watched as they dragged her from within it once more.

I watched as they tossed her to the side and left her there.

I watched her as she sat there, rocking back and forth miserably.

Lost. Angry. Sad. Confused.

I watched her when they started to touch her hair, lips, cheeks, ears, neck, shoulders, breasts, stomach, waist, thighs, crotch, thighs, calves, and feet with their bare yet ghost-like hands.

BLANK.

I watched as she grew numb to their touching.

I watched as a man approached and drew them away with his mighty blade.

I watched as she struggled to gather the remaining pieces of the shell and wore it over her face.

I watched as the man got to his knees and took the mask away, smiling at her.

I watched as he tied a red string to her finger, joined to his.

I watched as he presented a door before her.

I watched as he undressed himself and stepped into it.

I watched as she sat there, looking from the red string to the man that waited for her on the other side of her door.

I watched as she brought her hands to her eyes to look at the remaining shards of the shell that latched itself on her hands.

I watched as it weighed her down when she approached the open door to where the man was.

I watched her fall to her knees and begin to crawl towards the door.

Then, she stopped.

And then, I moved towards her and stood behind her.

"Why do you stop?" I asked.

She whispered: "Heavy,"

"But you could still move just now,"

"I can't now. I'm unsure,"

"Why?"

"I don't know what's there. I'm afraid. I'm afraid I might hurt him,"

"Why would you want to hurt him?" I asked; confused.

"I don't want to hurt him. I don't. He is very kind to me. Very kind. I love him. Very much. I don't want to hurt him. I never want to. I never will,"

"But you stopped," I said, and pointed at the red string on her finger, "And he tied that on you,"

"Fear, Saaya. I fear," she whimpered, "I fear for him, and for me. I want to run,"

But I stopped her, and pulled her back to the open door, where he stood waiting for her. She looked so fearful, yet, that apparent longing expression on her face was stronger.

I held her in my arms as I pulled those shards off her, watching as blood began to flow from the wounds left by the shards I pulled out. She winced, twitched, and turned about. She cried out names, our names, as I pulled them all out.

"We are stopping you. We are planting machinations into you. We are blinding you," I explained softly to her, "We must go,"

"Please, please, pleeeeease, don't take them away from me. I need them. I need them," she wailed, flailing her arms to reach for the fallen shards.

"No," I replied sternly, plucking the others but leaving only two shards in her. One of them was mine; "You must stop making us. You must stop creating us,"

"But without you, without all of you, I..."

I spun her around and made her face the man, "You have him," and I gently lifted the red string to her eyes, "And this. See-" I tugged at the string, smiling at her, "It is strong, stronger than any of ours,"

She watched in wonder, but with a tinge of doubt.

"And it can grow much stronger than it is now," I continued, holding my hands tightly on her shoulders, "All he needs is you, as you have once needed us,"

"I..."

I took her hand and let her touch the string, letting her feel its smooth texture and the strength within it. I watched as she caressed the string gently, lovingly, before lifting her face up to look at the man on the other side of the door.

"Fear no more, my dearest one," I whispered into her ears, "You are in safe hands,"

She shuddered as my wings came down upon her trembling body, giving her one final embrace before I backed away from her.

Whimpering, she almost turn-- "DON'T," my voice boomed towards her, "We are gone, Alissa. We are no more. We cannot be,"

Softly, she asked; "Why?"

"Grow with him," I looked at the man beyond the door, "Move forward, and don't turn back,"

From where I stood, I watched as she lifted her head high and closed her eyes. And for the longest time, she remained silent, her eyes closed, her mind thinking. Her fists were clenched tightly on her sides, but it softened soon after.

I watched as she undressed herself before the door, before him.

I watched as revealed the last two shards that sunk deeply on her back. They were much deeper than the others.

I watched as she bit her lips in pain as she removed both the shards from within her.

I watched as she held them tightly in her hands, sobbing, and throwing them both to the floor. At that moment, I could feel myself disappearing. My sight began to blur. My senses grew numb. And my thoughts, my memories, fading slowly.

Yet, I continued to watch her, watch as she got to her knees and picked the smallest piece from one of the shards she broke. Needless to say, it was not mine.

I watched her as she stood up once more, held on to that speck of the shard in one hand, and the red string on the other.

I watched as this girl looked up to the man, smiling as he held his hand out towards her.

I watched as the girl took a few steps through...what was it? A door? Something. I don't know. I can't remember.

She walked, and then she...moved faster. Running? I can't see very well.

Did the girl fnd th mn wth th...red...str....i.....n...g..

W...ha...t........ws......h....e..e...e...eeee....r........

.............n.....................n..........nn......na........m............e

................................................A.......................

...............

......

BLANK.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Growing up is not an absence of dreaming
It's being able to understand the difference between the ones you can hold
And the ones that you've been sold
And Dreaming is a good thing cause it brings new things to life
But pretending is an ending that perpetuates a lie
Forgetting what you are
Seeing for what you've been told

Amidst the green leaves, the mosses upon the tree barks, the bushes that formed a painting of green with everything else; there, five figures hid. Three were roughly the same height, one was the tallest of them all, and the last of the five was the shortest. All were clad in similar garbs of black with a dash of green, which tells us one thing; they were all part of the same group. And the five stood there, eyeing an abandoned village not too far from where they stood.

"Is that the one?" asked one of the three, huddling close to the tallest one, "That village?"

He nodded, "Yes, that one. According to our scouts, that village was recently abandoned by the villagers due to some...event that occurred not too far from here,"

"Shouldn't we be worried about that little event than going there?"

The shortest figure in the group flashed out a knife and began to proceed towards the abandoned village; "We can discuss about that later. For now, our objective is to secure the remaining food supply in this village,"

The others watched the short one shifting from tree to tree, keeping close to the shadows until the short one eventually stepped outside of their hiding place. Her sharp violet eyes scanned the area before signaling to the others to come out. Seeing them slowly moving past the bushes, she turned back and strode straight into the village. Sheathing her knife, she drew out her sword and began to slowly pace about the area, eyeing the houses for any signs of food in the houses.

"Found anything, Goldhair?" asked the tallest man in their group.

The woman shook her head and turned back to the others; "Spread out. The faster we find something, the sooner we can leave this place," she pointed a finger at the tall man, "Berthold, check these houses near the entrance," and then she looked at the other three, "Auld, you go with Grenn to the houses near the crops. Don, you're coming with me to the houses on the other end,"

Nodding, they dispersed to their assigned locations. The woman, who was called 'Goldhair' earlier, hurried to the houses at the end of the village with Don tailing her from behind. She entered the first house to her left and with a swift kick to the door, she brought her sword down in a single arc. But what she slashed was nothing but air, the empty air of this abandoned village.

Don got to her side and looked about them; "Nothing here," he stepped away from her, "I'll search the kitchen,"

She acknowledged his words and proceeded to check upstairs. Goldhair reminded herself to be quick. After all, villages do attract other bandits aside from her group. If the other bandits were to arrive while they are still scavenging for food, well...

I lost a man back then. It won't happen again.

The first door to her right was open, as though to indicate that these people left in a hurry. But what could have made them leave so soon? Goldhair was aware of the current situation of the world, from everything else going down the drain in a matter of days to the New Erudia's armies claiming lands all around them; perhaps these villagers fear the coming force and fled before facing that danger. But to where? Even those people did not know. So long as they are far from danger, they will be fine; but how long can these people run with no place to go? She understood their sufferings, their pains, their sorrow.

She vowed to change all that.

Goldhair searched the rooms and found nothing but old clothes and smelly blankets. Sighing, she grabbed some of the old dresses and tunics and went downstairs, only to find Don with nothing but a piece of dried bun in his hand. The villagers really made sure that nothing was left.

Don shrugged and smiled sheepishly, "It's better than nothing, right?"

She managed a wan smile; "Come on, let's rendezvous with the others,"

But just as they were about to step out of the house, something sharp flew past her ear and hit the side of the door. Goldhair quickly turned, seeing Don on his knees with blood sprouting out from the arrow in his throat. Cursing, she snatched the bun from his hand and hurried back to where the others gathered, trapped between four bandits.

Berthold drew his sword and swung at them in full, causing the bandits to back away from his swing. As he did this, Goldhair took the opportunity to stab at one of the bandits, who was unaware of her presence from behind, and quickly got to Berthold's side.

"Why, all we want is food, missy," said one of the bandits, inching closer to grab the bun from her hand, "We're nothing but poor hungry folks, so give us some, eh?"

Goldhair was half planning to throw the dried bun away, but before she could do it, Auld and Grenn stepped in front of them and attacked the bandits head on.

"Your Highness!" cried Grenn, "We'll hold them off!"

Auld managed to land a clumsy blow on one of the bandits, "Avalantiaaaaa!!"

She looked at them in amazement; not too long ago, Auld, Grenn, and Don were mere peasants with no experience with a sword. Of course, three lessons in swordplay with Berthold was not enough to make them efficient fighters. But they had no choice; they were the only few able-bodied men in their group that were able pick up a sword and do a good swing with it. Now, she had already lost Don, and soon, Auld and Grenn.

Berthold placed a firm grip on her shoulder, realising what she planned to do; "We are outnumbered, Goldhair. Let's not put their sacrifice to waste,"

She turned to glare at him, her violet eyes full of hate and loathe, but within it, there was defeat too. He was right; they were outnumbered. Goldhair uttered a curse under her breath and turned away from the struggling two, running back to their camp, their current home, with Berthold following close from behind.

And once again, she vowed.

- - -

It was quite a sight to behold, she thought as she leaned on the side of her tent. Goldhair watched the children tearing the buns into very small pieces and gave them to the elderly men and women first before they munched on it themselves. Their mothers helped their children by feeding the rest with a spoonful of rabbit broth, something they managed to catch while Goldhair and the others were away. This was both a delayed lunch and a late dinner. This was how it went on for months after the fall of the kingdom of Avalantia.

One of the women offered her a bowl of rabbit broth, but Goldhair took only a spoonful of the broth and gave the rest back to the woman. She smiled; "If you are all having a spoonful, then I too will have a spoonful,"

Minutes later, Berthold returned with two young men, their newly-trained scouts, and had his fill of dinner as well. She watched him for a moment before gesturing for him to enter her tent.

Goldhair pulled the flap down over the entrance to her tent after he entered and turned to the map that was laid out on a table before them. She looked at it and noted that it was quite an old map, salvaged from an abandoned house not too long ago. It was old simply because Avalantia and the names of the rest of the kingdoms were still mentioned on each part of the continent when it is already gone by now, either destroyed by other kingdoms or 'taken' by New Erudia. In the case of New Erudia, 'taken' signified both destroyed and conquered.

"Berthold," she began as she stared at the map intently, "Today, I have lost three men in a...worthless attempt to search for food,"

He only looked at her, as though he knew what to expect from her.

She slammed her fists on the table, "THREE MEN, Berthold! Not one; THREE, ALTOGETHER!"

"Calm down, Goldha--"

"You think I should be calm? You think I should...just...sacrifice my people like that!?" Goldhair glared at him, "I am Princess Daena Avanteo, the First of Her Name, daughter to King Duval Avanteo III, ruler of Avalantia. I am a princess, and a princess is suppose to protect her people, to offer them safety!"

"And you have done so, Your Highness, for the time being," he replied, leaning on one of the poles that held up the tent, "You have accomplished more than any other princesses have ever done in times like these,"

"For what, Sir Berthold Orrey? So we can go hungry for another day and lose more men!?" she squeezed the ends of the table and stared down at the map, "We can't go on like this forever, Berthold. We...we need Avalantia, no-- a home. A home for all of us,"

Sighing, he moved to where she stood and looked down at her, "I understand your concerns, Your Highness. Like you, I too have seen the people traveling with us. I have seen their suffering," he placed a concerned hand on her tired shoulders, "But you are still young, only 20 years of age, and the fall of your homeland happened only months ago. It is natural for you to feel this way, Your Highness, but you must understand that certain things cannot be accomplished in a matter of minutes,"

She looked up at him, holding back the tears in her eyes; "I am at loss, Sir Berthold, truly, I am,"

Berthold paused for a moment, pondering on something, and then he continued; "You say we need Avalantia, no?"

Daena nodded, "Yes,"

"Then we need an army to face the rest of these forces, and a safe place where we can leave our followers in the mean time," he stood back and touched his beard thoughtfully, "Do you remember the lords? The lords who were part of the court of Avalantia?"

She wondered about this, and instantly, the memory returned; "Yes, I remember they...managed to flee before the attack began," the word 'flee' intrigued her. If they managed to get away before the castle went down with the attack, they may still be alive somewhere out there. Probably back in their homelands; "Berthold, I know what you're thinking of, but persuading the lords..."

He chuckled lightly, "And the lords claimed that they could never refuse your words. You shame me, Goldhair,"

A small smile formed on her lips at his jest, "It seems that I haven't been my optimistic self, lately," she nodded, "It is decided then,"

Berthold nodded in agreement.

"We will form an army, and we will march for the one force that took away all our hopes and dreams of Avalantia," her finger moved to a particular spot on the map, the only part of the map that still proved its authenticity,

"New Erudia,"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm really horrid at fight scenes. It's either I become too abstract with it or too straightforward.

This is actually a post in reply to a roleplay forum I joined a very long time ago. I thought it might have potential. Somewhat.

At the very least, the story is very much influenced by none other than George R.R. Martin himself. For those who find the name somewhat familiars (to readers of ASOIAF), Daena reminds you of Daenerys, does it not?

Well, technically, the names are both quite similar. But Daena herself is a character of her own (not this one that I wrote but in the actual story by Martin). She was said to be very headstrong and adventurous. A lot of...back-stories to that, but the fact that her traits were so brought about the creation of Daena Avanteo.

Similar to Daenerys's (or Dany, as others would call her), she leads the survivors away from her father's kingdom, Avalantia, in hopes that she will find a safer haven for her people after New Erudia's latest expansion plan that involved Avalantia in the process of it.

She has siblings, yes. In fact, she had four brothers. Three died protecting the kingdom from New Erudia. The other one, Daena's eldest brother, Daeren, was believed to have drowned at sea. But Daena refused to believe that, instead, choosing to believe that her brother was still alive; missing, but alive.

You would think he'd come running to save his family, but no, he didn't.

And I suppose it's also one way for me to test the human limit through this one. How much stress can one person endure before they break completely?

Then again, this story is one of the many stories I've put on hold. My current focus is on an old one, one that I've been wanting to finish all these while.

You see, it all began with this abandoned temple...

So here's a slice of real life coming from yours truly:

One:
I'm currently juggling two jobs (one which I have been slightly neglecting...I should get back to work on that. Fast); my tutor job and a part-time at my aunt's science journal in Universiti Malaya. And I do hope to keep these two jobs to keep the money coming, at least till William returns to continue his study here. At the very least, I would be able to help him until he's able to help in return.

Two:
I find myself missing college. A lot. Not just the food, but going there to study and doing assignments. I miss them all. And I miss seeing my friends there. I miss hanging out with them.

Three:
At the same time, I can't wait to graduate from this course, get a job, and support William.

Four:
Dance Dance Revolution (DDR) is my current fad and obsession since my PS2 started scratching my lovely games. I would go to Pyramid every week to practice 3 games, and then leave.

Five:
Paranormal Activity haunts my nights. Even zombies could not beat this. I don't know why, and I do not like it.

Six:
I am half-considering going back to Role-Playing online again. Last time I did, the idiots were...well, idiots. Maybe I should, maybe I shouldn't.

Seven:
Will is not going to have Internet for a while. I'm currently planning my budgets and keeping a good eye on my phone bill. Not to mention, the previous editor of the science journal told me that she was not paid 3 months in a row. That's the reason why she quit and why I got the job. It is worrying. I hope my classes are enough to support me if that were to happen.

Eight:
I like U.M. It has such a nice atmosphere to it, compared to the likes of UiTM. I hope William will enjoy his time studying there and taking part in their activities. Give him the undergraduate student life he deserves, you know? I'll see to it that everything goes well. I swear.

Nine:
Pirate Bay, you will be sorely missed.

Ten:
I have improved in my studies, and I will continue to improve. You won't see me coming, 2010, till I strike!

- - -

The day moved slowly, he realised, perhaps a bit too slow for his liking. He wanted it to go, follow its usual, speedy pace and run. Just keep it moving, as long as this day ended as soon as possible.

But the rain was hard and bitter. It slowed him down, it slowed everyone else down. He found himself hesitating to leave the room, insisting that he should stay and continue on what was left of his paperworks. There were reports to be made, losses to be calculated, amendments to lessen the damage that was already done to this place from the recent war; he was in charge of all these, and he wanted to do it, just to take his mind off it.

There was a knock on his door; "Lord Silverberg," said a solemn voice from behind it, "It is time,"

Yet, as much as he wanted to avoid it, he had to put it all to a hold.

He hated farewells.

"I'm not certain of your rituals here," he replied, taking nothing but his sword that was strapped around his waist as he opened the door, "Where do you conduct the ceremony?"

"By the shores of Gibrantar, where the mighty kings journey beyond the sea,"

- - -

For the first time ever, Gibrantar stood in silence as it watched its king being carried by its loyal knights down the path towards the shores. These men were the men closest to His Majesty back in the days. They were the ones that were true to him till the end of his days.

Not him, no. He was a betrayer.

The kingdoms before Gibrantar were all taken by the Harmonian forces, thanks to his work on digging every bit of information there is about the kingdoms. After all, Harmonia has always been interested to expand their territories and economy. It was the only method he was left to do to clear his name from his crimes and from being exiled.

Yet, something about him changed when he was here in Gibrantar, the last kingdom at the very south of the continent. Till now, he continued to wonder what it was that made him change his views and motives.

Then he looked at the mighty king that once ruled this place, lying peacefully in his coffin. Perhaps that was what changed him; the man himself.

Never has he seen a man so true and honest until he met him. Perplexed would be the best word to describe his initial feelings towards this man. But it soon grew to something he never thought he would feel again; respect and honour.

"His Royal Majesty, King Andovan II..."

The words went on, but he paid no attention to them.

Surrounding the king's coffin were loyal men, true to his cause. They pledged their sword to this man, and silently begged for forgiveness for their failure to protect their king.

Not too far off from the circle of men was Her Highness, Queen Clarisse. She stood tall and proud at the sight of her beloved's passing, yet none could truly fathom the sorrow that muddled her thoughts and dulled her senses. Standing next to the proud queen was the king's young son, Horace. Still a child of seven years, yet he understood the scene shown before him.

The others stood behind him, each murmuring a different prayer for the fallen king.

Yet, when it came to him, there was nothing. He had no prayers, he had no tears, and he had no remorse or any guilt that loomed in his heart like the others. Albert was empty, devoid of feelings and the rational thoughts that made him a renown tactician.

Like the queen herself, he too was numb.

Words were exchanged, prayers were left, and soon, the funeral ended with a mighty push into the sea.

One by one, the people left the shore and returned to their homes. The knights gave their final salute to their king before retreating into the castle.

Soon, it was just the queen, Horace, and himself standing at the shores of Gibrantar.

"Lord Silverberg," she started, her eyes fixed upon the sight of her husband drifting further into the sea, "My husband spoke a great many things of you,"

Albert managed a small smile, "He was a great king. I only gave my very best,"

Queen Clarisse turned to look at him, "You protected us, and you were there when he needed you most,"

"Except for that time,"

And then there was silence. Again. He cursed himself for his own stupidity.

Yet, the queen continued, "He knew his time was coming, Lord Silverberg," she said, "As much as I tried to deny it, I knew it too,"

He only watched her. There was nothing else he could say.

She approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "'I trust Albert more than anything. I could only hope that he would forgive me for giving him such a heavy burden to look after Horace for me'" she smiled softly, "Those were his last words to me before I learned of his death,"

Once more, he said nothing.

"Ponder on it, Lord Silverberg," she turned to walk back to the castle with Horace in her hand, "And I will see you at the castle,"

At her departure, he turned to the shores and watched as the last remaining sight of the mighty King Andovan disappeared into the darkening horizon. It was a sight to behold, he thought, with the sun sinking into dusk, carrying the king along with it. Another day ends, another life gone.

He went closer to the shores and stared at the Harmonian emblem engraved on his silver ring. In his mind, he remembered the many troubles he went through to return to Harmonia, his homeland. Yet, all that seemed to have disappeared, and the silver ring eventually lost its meaning.

Silently, he took it off his finger and in a single swing, he threw it into the waters.

"May you forgive me as well for the things I might have done to you, Andovan," he spoke.

With that, he turned and left the shores of Gibrantar.

Love.

The first thing that comes to mind when you think about it are warm feelings, the kind of feelings that make you feel safe and secured at all times. It makes you happy, lustful, and it's a place where you can cling to for support. Heh, it can even make you do things you would never do before, like...risking your own life for the other.

Sure, that's human, but that act was driven by the very thing called 'love'. This feeling can be both a good thing, and a bad thing, of course. It can turn into an obsession, a curse, a change in life, a recipe for disaster, a monster. But when it all comes down to it, 'love' is just a feeling and these good and bad definitions we have for it are merely the machinations of the mind.

Some would agree, others would deny this fact.

But that is as far as I know about this strange feeling called 'love' because when I look at her, I see new meanings, new definitions, new...new everything.

Ah, no, don't get me wrong here. I am only her travel companion, someone she wanted as company on her travels. Her mind is elsewhere, and her heart drifts in the wind; I was nowhere in there. But to be honest, I never wanted to. My heart longs for the fiancee I left back at home, but for some strange reason, I ended up in her company.

Who is she, you ask? Well, that's what I have been trying to find out all these years. You see, she never really gave me a name or any clue about her identity. It was a difficult task when we first travelled together; I was unable to call her by anything.

"Lady, don't you have a name that I can use to call you?" I asked, a long time ago.

But she only smiled and shook her head; "You can call me just that, Mikhail,"

"Lady?"

"Yes,"

So from then onwards, I called her Lady. It suited her, I guess.

And did I tell you that she was the most beautiful woman I have ever met?

Of course, the term 'beauty' is only a perspective and as you know, different people have different perspectives of their own. But when it came to Lady, she was beautiful in every perspective, both mine and the others who see her. It was as though she...morphed herself entirely when it comes to others. Not physically, of course, but....there was something about the way she does to certain men that piques their curiosity and interest.

Let me give you an image of her; imagine a slim young woman, probably around the age of 18 to 20. Imagine long raven-black hair that reached down to her waist, wavy and bouncy. Imagine a pair of bright brown eyes that seemed to shimmer like gold. Imagine a slightly tanned, smooth skin covered in cloths of deep blue and pale yellow. Imagine perfection when it came to her limbs. Imagine that. Don't get me started with her nudes.

But even with her beauty, I was never aroused by it. Amazed, yes, but not aroused or interested. Like I have said before, it was as though she chooses when to do those to others.

And of course, a woman with her beauty has a line of both suitors and lovers behind her. But Lady never accepts their hand. Entirely. She takes their hand in matrimony, in an oath of undying love; and then she would disappear. Like the wind, she leaves as quickly as she would come.

Was she in great sorrow when she does that, you ask?

Honestly, even I fail to find the answers myself. Let's not start with my endless pondering on her decision to do so, though I have asked her before. But her reply was as enigmatic as the very perfection that is her to begin with.

"So you come, you give them a little something to dream of, and then you leave," I said during one of our stops, after leaving a city whose name I failed to remember, "Why do you break their hearts like that? Why do you smile when you step out of their beds and leave their humble abodes?"

Lady smiled and leaned back, "Why do dreams end when you wake up, Mikhail?"

For a moment there, I was taken aback by her question. Once more, I pondered at this, but Lady continued on.

"Why do people dream?" she stared at the fire wonderingly.

"Because it's the only place where they are given the freedom to do what they want. They can have everything there," I replied, certain of my answer, "But it's...it's not right to be that way because no one can have everything they want in the world. That is why they wake up,"

She giggled and looked at me, "So it is not right for you to desire Anna?"

What the hell did I just say? "No, no! Anna..." the image of my fiance flashed across my mind, "In time, Lady, in time. What I desire from her is something that we cannot grant each other until the day of our wedding,"

"And of poor men who dreams of riches?"

I frowned, "I am not a sage, Lady,"

"Neither am I godly enough to answer your questions with no err, Mikhail," she sighed and turned away, looking at the starlit sky above her, "I seek freedom, and I seek love. Two extreme ends of desires. I want to love, more than anything else, but I do not want to be tied down by its chains. Thus, I run far when the chains begin to form,"

I could not find the words to reply to this, so I kept my silence, waiting for her to continue.

"Selfish, I know, but....it is in my nature, I suppose," her eyes lowered to the ground, and in a soft voice, she whispered, "But I do love all of them, very much,"

Love? This is her view on love? Momentary dreams and hopes, only to be snatched away in mere seconds? I was outraged, of course, for this was not the love that I know and feel when I think of Anna! But then she looked at me with those bright brown eyes of hers piercing through mine as though she was expecting this anger in me. And my god, she smiled.

In that instance, my anger subsided, but only to be replaced by something else, something I realised at this moment. Perhaps it was an answer to the questions I posed above.

"You fear loneliness,"

Lady laughed unbelievingly, "Is that so?"

"You fear the chains, because they would later bring about lonelines. You left them because you know that one day, they would leave you. You left them because you do not have faith!"

My last word came out hard and cruel, as though I literally slapped it across her face. And it worked as I thought it would; she was sitting there, stunned by my words, and for a moment, I felt triumphant for being able to solve this puzzle, to exact justice upon this wrongdoer of love and hope, to exert the love that I have for Anna.

For the longest time, I stood there, staring at her, just waiting, no- daring her to say something.

"We are alone, Mikhail,"

I wanted to retort, but when I thought about it, I realised she meant something else. I waited for her to continue.

"We are all alone in the end," the expression on her face faded to nothing. Only a calm, pensive stare; "Faith is what keeps the dream on. People lose their faith, they wake up and start from the beginning. But to those who succeed, they would live in their dreams for as long as their faith lasts.

And then, it will be gone,"

It was so flawed, yet it rings with truth; why does it work that way? I cannot fathom it, despite her explanations, despite her words; I simply cannot...or rather, I choose not to. But to choose such a choice meant that I had nothing else to say in return.

"You cannot understand my thoughts, Mikhail," she added softly, "Because you have always deluded yourself with your thoughts, like most people do,"

I was at loss for words, and at that moment, I felt my very beliefs shakened by her words. My minds returned to Anna, my dearest Anna, but I could see nothing but those cruel possibilities that tainted the very image of my fiancee itself. Separation, anger, sorrow, disappointment, distrust, loneliness; I would have mentioned more if it were not for the depression that finally got to me.

You haven't seen the things that I've seen and felt throughout my life's journey.

But you're stronger than I am, Mikhail.

Because you are still pure, and I am tainted by my own thoughts and actions.

Perhaps deluding yourself in this makes a man the happiest living being in this world.

Yet, I only wish you the best.

We will part ways here, my friend.

Farewell, and pray that we may never cross paths again.

When I awoke, she was gone. But I heard her whispered words as I drifted between waking up and sleeping, and I thought about it for a while.

She may be right; we are all living in a dream we strongly believe in, and that we always try to make our dreams stay the way we want to. Hence, we become selfish in our ways, that then leads to separation. Betrayal. Silence. We are weak and selfish like that.

But she is wrong about one thing.

Not all of us are dreamers forever.

I, for one, intend to make mine and Anna's dreams come true. And there is nothing she can say against that.

And so, with a triumphant smile on my face, I begin my journey back to the village. To home. To Anna.

I'm coming, Anna.

- - -

This was something I wrote a long time ago, just trying to comprehend Akiko's/Alaistar's/Lady's thoughts and feelings to her actions. She...how do I put it, well, she is very, VERY emo when it comes to issues like this.

Well, that tends to happen when you live too long to see the whole scene played before you over and over again. Immortality screws you up a lot, that's why we're only given a limited lifespan.

Cherish it. And cherish every moment we spend.

It's the only thing we have left while time ticks our deaths into motion.

"My king..."

He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, deep in his thoughts. The voice that spoke to him in his mind seemed far away. Too far, perhaps. Whether it was real or an illusion, he knew not. The man was in his mind, probing to the far reaches of the domain of his creation.

"My queen,"

And there she was, his lovely queen. Beautiful, nubile, and voluptuous; she was his morning and evening star. The king loved her dearly, and she to him. They were both young and foolish, but back then, those thoughts never once crossed his mind. She was his world, and he was given a mission; to crown this beautiful flower as his queen of love and beauty.

It was a difficult mission, but he was not one to give up so easily. As skillful as he was in bed with the lady, he was also an excellent tactician and speaker. Couple that with his position as the ruler, he was unstoppable. The lady stood no chance against him, nor did his assailants and protesters. In the end, he was king, and he gets what he wants.

It was a chase, a thrilling run, a stressful ordeal; all to reach that goal. And like any other man, he enjoyed challenging games very much.

"I am with child, my king," she bowed, "Your son,"

He was sure, he was so very sure that it was. The guests were invited, the christening arranged, the envoys sent to deliver the good news to the other rulers; he had them all arranged.

"A son?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow, "I am to have a son, you say?"

"An heir to your throne, beloved," she smiled, rubbing her hand over her bloated tummy, "The continuity of your legacy,"

The king rolled to the side of his bed, staring at his table filled with books. He was preparing. Yet...

There was a knock on the door. "Your Majesty," said a voice from behind it.

He looked up to the door, remembering who it was, and sighed; "Enter,"

The door opened...

"What is it?" she cried in desperation, "Please, tell me!"

Her dearest sister stood by her side, calming her down with her gentle caresses and coos. She smiled and whispered into her sister's ears of the child.

And as soon as she heard that, the queen of love and beauty fainted.

The king seemed to ignore whoever it was that entered the door. He rolled again and landed on his back, his eyes going back to the ceiling once more.

"What is it?" he demanded, stepping into the room.

The queen, in all her grace and beauty, announced it with pride; "A beautiful princess," despite her words and her demeanor, she was highly disappointed with herself.

He stared into her eyes, seeing all his hardwork and all the troubles he went through just sinking down the drain like it was all for nothing. This beautiful flower of his had conceived a princess when what he dreamed of was...

"My queen, you and I," he started slowly, swallowing the disappointment, swallowing the frustration that was about to burst forth from within him, "We are both young. There is still time," but even he doubted his own truth that he wanted to believe in.

He turned and left.

"Your Majesty," she bowed.

That was it, this was his downfall, again; he lost it.

He turned to look at a young woman, standing by his door. Smiling, he rose from his bed and approached her, scanning the woman's physique from top to bottom like a predator to its prey. She was a pretty little thing; scared, timid, and in awe of the king's presence.

Her body tensed as he moved in closer, his hands groping her small, lithe body. He touched the smoothness of her skin, letting his tongue run across it from the nape of her neck to her white shoulder. He heard her gasp, and in his grasp, he felt her shudder; she was ready.

Smirking, he moved his lips closer to her ears, breathing into it first before whispering his request to the woman; "Do you play chess, my lady?"

And there, in his arms, was his most prized possession; his queen of love and beauty. His, and his alone.

"I love you," he said to her, "You are my only one, my love, the only one I ever wanted,"

And she, his lovely queen, smiled gently in return as she caressed his cheeks, "Yours alone, my king?" apparently, she did not seem to understand his words. He had to further accentuate it to his beloved.

"Yours truly,"

- - -

Just a written adaptation from the end of episode 3 of The Tudors, season 2.

Lately, I can't seem to grasp the very idea of living at all. You could say that this life I'm living is like...a routine, something I have to go by until my battery runs out. But is this all there is?

Yea, go ahead. Tell me to be more religious and maybe through this, I might just find the meaning I've longed searched. But that would only result in me trying to find god. And you know what they say nowadays; god's dead. Not that he's literally dead, in fact, I think he just took off the moment he was done with this god-forsakened place he called The Universe.

At least that's what the world taught me.

"Hey there. You've reached Ryo Hirasaki's house phone, and you guessed it; I'm not at home. So leave a message after the beep"

"You asshole, I know you're there. Pick up the goddamn phone,"

My name is Ryo. I'm a detective. And I decided to answer the phone.

"Fuck off, Mitsuo. It's my day off,"

"Ryo, it's about your client..."

My client? Oh yes, I remember working on a case a few days ago. My client is some senator's wife, whatever her name was. She wanted me to keep an eye out on her husband's activities. Apparently, she was told that her husband was seeing another woman behind her back. Yes, the usual ones about affairs, et cetera. Normally, I'd turn down those kinds of offer, but I figured there was something I could get from her...maybe something that I can use against those corrupted higher-ups.

To be honest, I wanted this city to be rid of them all for good. I mean, that's what a cop does, right? The citizens first before anything else, right?

"What about her?" I asked while getting dressed.

There was a sigh, and then he continued; "She's dead,"

I paused for a moment there; dead?

"You'd better come down here, Ryo. It doesn't look good,"

I contemplated, and decided to go pay her my last visit; "Be there in 5,"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'll continue this tomorrow. I'm...terribly tired right now.

Ah, and I have found another obsession today:



This...is addicting. It's...affecting me too.

Goddamnit.

Lay a whisper on my pillow
Leave the winter on the ground...

I would love you, yes, I would, if I remember how it felt. It had been so long since I last had a woman in my arms. Centuries, eons, forever; these words surround the very thing you hold in your hands, beloved.

Would one go beyond death? Perhaps, for I am the living proof of it. Sadly, only I can exist in such a way. How amusing; you, who are at the brink of death, and I, beyond death. We truly are meant for each other, even if this moment is just a second away from your doom.

I would hold you close to me, my love, my nameless lover. My warmth will shelter you from Death's touch, claiming you as mine before I release you. My hands will caress your skin, and I will lean close to your ears and whisper loving words.

I would love you, yes, I would. And my memory returns gradually.

I would watch you fall, sprawled across the bed like a beautiful porcelain doll. Your lovely red hair, now a reminder of what was once an inferno of lust in the night, would dangle from the edges of the bed. You would raise your hand to me, beckoning me to your side. You would whisper my name like a chant. I was the wish, your wish.

Oh, love, if the gods were kind to you, I would rape you. I would take you with such force that would leave you begging for more!

Alas, your body grows weak by the second. Your breaths short and desperate, the fire in your eyes, dimming. Yet, in these hopeless moments, you would still give your love to me.

Make believing we're together
That I'm sheltered by your heart...

Gods, give me time! Let me feel the humanity that I lost long ago, let me feel.

In the midst of my despair, you would calmly pull me to your side and kiss me. Your lips; they were cold yet...comforting. I would shudder, feeling your legs wrapped around my waist. I could hear your breaths growing shorter, and your voice, softer than before. But you would scream, moan, laugh, and cry.

You loved me.

And so did I.

It must have been love, but it's over now

Then you fell.

It must have been good, but I lost it somehow

There was a smile, a loving caress. And then, release.

It must have been love, but it's over now..

I watched you for a very long time. And in those moments, I remembered. In all those eternities I spent searching for immortality, I remembered.

From the moment we touched

till the time had run out...

I love you.

- - - - - -

Honestly, I could have done better, but I wasn't in the mood for it. To be precise, I can't remember how it all happened. I forgot the passion, the love, the lust, the desire when I wrote this down.

In case you're wondering, I was merely re-enacting a scene in a book by Anne Rice called Servant of the Bones. No, this scene only appeared once in the book (unlike her other vampire books) and this was a hetero relationship, not too worry.

I remembered reading this scene and strangely, at that moment, this song was played. And now, every time I hear this song, I remember Azriel and his lovemaking with that woman whose name I failed to remember. It was...bittersweet, really. He was her first and last lover. And yes, she did die in the end.

Bah, what a time for me to be feeling sappy. Hope you enjoyed the entry though.

I hope life has been treating you nicely, Dear. I can't imagine the things people would do to one another these days. It's either they kill you with mainstream or kill you. Physically. That's a bad thing to happen, especially to someone like you.

Me? I've been good. In fact, I've been really really good. I made sure I get up early in the morning and brush my teeth before I do anything else. Of course, I'll bathe as well, but that is later. What I do in between is a question from me to you. Then again, I won't expect a reply, knowing your condition now. Hehe.

Let me tell you some of the things that are happening in this world. Really, you've been missing a lot of things.

The real world I live in now has turned somewhat hostile lately. Everyday, I see people getting killed, other people squabbling over small little problems, women getting raped and murdered, and...other bad stuff. I don't think you want to hear the rest, Dear. It's not safe to walk alone as well or else the bad guys will come and get you. =(

But still, it's not that bad when compared to other things going on outside this place.

Yea, there are worser thingies lurking out there. And everyone's out to get at each other. It's really scary.

Umm, I don't mean to scare you or anything, but...this is really what's going on. I would really like it if you could come, but right now, it's not safe. I know you've been inviting me over to your place a couple of times, but I simply have to refuse.

Despite all the baddies here, I still have people I love in this wicked world. People that I love, people who loves me, and people I want to protect. I may be small, but if I have the will, I would gladly do it! So...that's why I can't go with you. That's why I have to stay.

You can come visit soon, if everything else is safe~ =)

Oh! And don't worry about me! I'll be fine. It's you that needs to be taken care of, hehe.

The world may be wicked, but there are things small beings like me can do to make a big difference. All I need to do is just to find a way. Somehow.

Pray that I'm successful, Dear! I need all the prayers and luck I can get for this to happen!

Also, pray that my mother doesn't beat me again. Really. I don't understand why she does that to me.

Pray that she won't find this letter.

Or else I have to write again and go through the horrible parts up there. Again.

I have recovered from my momentary mother-sister-homesick feeling after giving my mother a brief call to just check on her and everyone else. Lol, I thought I was calmed down, but when I heard her voice over the phone, I broke into sobs again. I suppose I just try to look strong but the truth is, I'm not that strong.

They're fine, and I was glad I called her. Now the mother-sister-homesick isn't as bad as this morning when I woke up.

I had a good rest today. Decided to skip my swimming/gym exercise that I planned to go today. Sadly, there was no dream. Then again, it was just two hours. I feel very refreshed and I feel like writing a story now. So, for those who's not interested, I suggest you turn back now before you plunge into the vortex of boredom.

For those who are...well, let's just say you're not in for any big surprises. At least I know a certain someone wouldn't be surprise. I wrote this story in the first few pages of our collaboration, and if she ever come across my blog, she'd know this. Then again, it's nothing much. I was simply remembering this story and I thought it'd be best if I could expand its story. It had, to me, a wonderful plot. Simple, yet nice.

So now I present to you my short story...
A tale of two brothers, a king, and a kingdom.

* * *

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a kingdom ruled by a king whose rule was fair and just. Since his ascend to the throne at the age of eighteen, the kingdom bloomed and prospered under his rule. The people of his kingdom loved their king and the soldiers and knight were loyal enough to die in his service.

But, well, for a kingdom that prospered and a king that ruled justly, war was a rare occasion. The king was tactful enough to maintain good relationships with other kingdoms.

For thirty years, he was a happy king for as he ruled the kingdom, he had his loving wife, the queen, to support him every time he falls. He was blessed with two sons and loved them both very much.

The two sons were very close and loved each other, often helping each other whenever they get into trouble.

On the king's fortieth year of rule, his beloved queen passed away. He grieved for her death and slowly, the kingdom slowly lost its glory.

Not long after that, he fell into a sickness that took away his ability to walk. Knowing that his end was near, he named his eldest son as the heir to the throne.

The eldest son knew that it was his duty to ascend to the throne, and thus, he accepted his duties. However, he was unaware of his youngest brother's flaring jealousy.

On the fiftieth year of the king's rule, somewhere in the middle of the year, the king finally released his final breath and died peacefully. For a long time, the people grieved on the passing of their beloved king.

The eldest brother was named king and soon after that was his coronation.

On the day of the coronation, just as the eldest brother was about to receive the crown that signifies him as the official king, the youngest brother summoned his army and attacked everyone present in the ceremony.

The eldest brother managed to escape the massacre, but left the kingdom with a broken heart. So, he wandered across the continent, trying to just die as he wandered...until he came across a certain something that changed everything.

While the elder brother fled the kingdom, the younger brother took over the throne and became king.

But after ruling for so long, he suddenly thought of his beloved brother and how horrible he was back in the past. He felt the guilt in him and at that moment, the love for his eldest brother returned.

He sent out search parties to look for his brother and after months of searching, he finally found his beloved brother.

The eldest brother returned, carrying a strange sword with him. Many noticed the change within the eldest brother, and most concluded that he was not the same person he was before this. Soothsayers warned of an approaching danger to not only the king, but the entire kingdom itself. Yet the younger brother denied their words and welcomed his brother with open arms.

There was a feast made in honour of his brother's return and for three days and three nights, they dined and celebrated. And for three days and three nights, the eldest brother remained silent.

On the fourth night, when everyone was fast asleep (including the younger brother), the eldest brother began his revenge.

In the dead of the night, he slaughtered every single one of the people who lived in the kingdom. No one was spared, not even children or babes.

No one but the current king, the younger brother.

But that was momentarily, of course.

When the younger brother woke up, all that he saw was blood. All the was littered around him were corpses. All that he smelled was death. And before him was Death himself, in the form of his eldest brother.

The younger brother begged for him to be spared, reminding him of the brotherly love they had for each other. But the eldest brother stood there, his face revealing nothing but emptiness. There was no love in him for the younger brother, or the kingdom, or anyone else for that matter. There was nothing in him.

And so, the eldest brother raised his sword and smite it down on his defenseless younger brother.

Then there was absolute silence.

The eldest brother took the crown from his younger brother's head with his sword and walked all the way into the throne room.

He sat on the throne and struck his sword to the ground. The crown was then placed on the pommel of his sword and remained there, unmoved.

And there he sat. And there he closed his eyes. And there he ruled the land of the dead.

And there he waited.