Author Topic: Heterochromia  (Read 30281 times)

Mailbox-2100

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #200 on: April 15, 2018, 04:34:57 PM »
CIRCA 773

Maudlyn A Dupont


The Lord's Sword
Ezekiel 21   And the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, Son of man, set thy face toward Jerusalem, and drop thy word  toward the holy places, and prophecy against the land of Israel, And say to the land of Israel, Thus saith the Lord; Behold, I am  against thee, and will draw forth my sword out of his sheathe, and will cut off from thee the righteous and the wicked, therefore shall my sword go forth out of his sheathe against all flesh from the south to  the north: That all flesh may know that  I the Lord have drawn forth my sword out of his sheathe: it shall not return any more.

   Argali examined her sword at length. It glittered in the twilight, catching and reflecting the final facets of light, as night settled in. Would she could part the mists as she might marrow from bone. Her pilgrimage brought her far, and so she drew near.

   Such strange eyes, which walked by faith, and not by sight. They brought her here now, overlooking the provincial malaise. Her heart longed to belong, but what was duty without sacrifice? What gift was life if death could not be conquered? All her life she strove for some thing  beyond her reach. Certain moments assured her her place in some cosmic scheme, and it was certainly no game. Where words failed her, she rose,  this sword would not.; and though she may fall, it was into the sky, time & time again.

   What she could not comprehend vexed her very being, all could see, but none could say. Until this storied, fateful day. As darkness settled in, a rattle proceeded a hissing. Her sword glittered now by starlight as she turned it against the disturbance. "Who goes there?"

   She saw nothing, but the rattling continued. "Who am I?  If not your greatest foe."  Some thing hissed, and slithered just in to view. "That which lies  in the deep."  She squinted at the serpent, her shoulders laxing, the tip of her sword dipping. "Another little worm..."  She seemed disappointed. The serpent hissed its displeasure. "I confound men! I turn hearts! I- "  In a twinkling she traversed the gulf between them, literally cutting off the surprised and too late in retreating figure. "You talk too much."  It gave a final death rattle.

   Stuffing the remains in a sack, she continued.


   Such strange eyes, which walked by faith, and not by sight.
« Last Edit: April 15, 2018, 04:47:04 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #201 on: May 01, 2018, 12:38:58 PM »
The Beatitudes
Matthew 5   Blessed are ye, when men  shall revile you, and persecute youand shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is  your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

   Argali made her way into town, and came across two boys fighting in the street. When she was seen to observe, they fought all the fiercer. Ultimately, the larger one won, grinning proudly over the whimpering boy. "Why were you fighting?" asked the armored maiden. "He called me a name."

   "Go home." she commanded. His grin vanished, and he may as well have too. Argali crouched near the fallen lad, he looked up at her pitifully from behind bloodied hands.
"Up." she offered a hand to his surprise, which he gingerly accepted, and rose. "Why did you call him such a name?" He seemed to deliberate as he held his nose. "He's always picking on me, and calling me  names." Argali smiled. "So you became like him."  This shocked the boy. "N-no! I'm nothing like him! I hate him!"  Argali frowned. "Would you like to be different from him?" Argali stood from her crouched position, his eyes following her form. He alighted, "Yes, ma'am."

"Forgive him, and go do what you love. Fight him no more."

"B-but he was picking on me! He always does!"

"And maybe he always will, but in doing what you love you will know life. Here, you will only know death. Win or lose."

The boy was dour. "What if I love to fight?" Argali smiled. "Then you are a liar."
The boy was shocked as she continued on her way. "For you claimed to be nothing like him." She offered a small wave in parting.

He stood there, mad, watching her go. "H-hey!" He called out, and chased after her.
She never slowed, but she smiled.

Teaching about salt and light
Matthew 5   Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Mailbox-2100

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #202 on: May 04, 2018, 07:50:03 PM »
Tribute to John the Baptist
Matthew 11   And as they departed, Jesus began to say unto the multitudes concerning John, What went ye out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken with the wind? But what went ye out for to see? A man clothed in soft raiment? behold, they that wear soft clothing  are in kings' houses. But what went ye out for to see? A prophet? yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet. For this is he, of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee.
   Argali only stopped when the boy passed her side, to stand before her angrily. She was amused. "What's your name?"
His posture instantly transformed. "I'm Pavel," he flustered at her gaze, "M-miss.."
"Dupont." she prompted. He stood frozen, perhaps once having had course in his action, but no longer.
Argali continued, "What is it, Pavel? You have something to say?" To this he nodded rapidly, and shifting shyly collected his words.
"You- you said not to fight him.. but you're a knight. It doesn't make sense," He lowered his eyes a moment, "Miss Dupont." His tone and posture were deferential now.

"Don't you  fight?"

   She considered him, and smiled, drawing a blush from the boy's countenance.
"I do, only as my Lord bids me. Such is my honor, and failing that, I repent of my folly." Quirking a brow, she smiled still.
"There are matters beyond such aspects of vanity to consider. Your scuffle with the neighborhood boy is insignificant and erroneous in its nature. Small minds yield small imagination, afterall." Glancing around the quarter she passed through, it was destitute and ill repaired. She settled her gaze on the boy again, who shifted uncomfortably.
"It will take greater minds than which exist to extricate such.. poverty." She sighed. Pavel wondered.

"M-miss Dupont?"

"Yes, Pavel?"


   He looked pitiful in his hope. "Could you show me how?" The elfs eyes went wide, it was her turn to fluster, "I'm only passing through.. I.. "
His disappointment was heartbreaking. She couldn't hold the boys gaze and looked away.
"Can I go with you? I.. don't have any family. I'm an orphan."
Argali glanced sharply at him, she detected no lie, only a lonely little boy.
He suddenly looked hopeful. "You can show me to fight!"

   She considered a while, his excitement grew. "Can you read?" He nodded excitedly.
She was tempted to ask him how, but chalked it up to good Samaritans. "Good," she went into her rucksack, and produced a tome, "Read The New Testement,  beginning with Saint Matthew." The boy looked shocked, and dismayed. "Failing this you have failed my first ordinance, and I can not teach you."
The boys dismay instantly transformed to determination. Argali smiled once more and so did he. "I will return for what I came. Fare well, Pavel, and God bless you." She waved as she parted ways, and for some reason, Pavel was crying.
The judgement of the unrepentant
Matthew 11   Then began he to upbraid the cities wherein most of his mighty works were done, because they repented not. Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works, which were done in you, had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the day of judgment, than for you.
Spoiler: show

Mailbox-2100

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #203 on: May 20, 2018, 01:37:33 AM »
Israel's rebellion
Isaiah 1   Why should ye be stricken any more? ye will revolt more and more: the whole head is  sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is  no soundness in it; but  wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores: they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment. Your country is  desolate, your cities are  burned with  fire: your land, strangers devour it in your presence, and it is  desolate, as overthrown by strangers. And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city. Except the Lord  of hosts had left unto us a very small remnant, we should have been as Sodom, and  we should have been like unto Gomorrah. Hear the word of the Lord, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear unto the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah.

   As Argali made her way her mind wandered, leading her to find herself in some foreign quarter, and the sun quickly abandoning her. Some instinct bade her to beware, and surely, in short order, she became aware of a pair of men following her through the alleys and gutters. Quickening her pace she finally turned down a street to find a man in the shadows apprehend her at gunpoint. The pistol aimed at her chest gave her pause indeed, she knew well what they were capable of. The man spoke:

"Woman shouldn't be walking all alone this part a town, y'know?"

   She spied his accomplice further in the shadows, better hidden, a musket aimed in her direction. Her eyes sought to narrow, and her instinct was to reply, "Is that why you brought your friend?", but she knew better than to test herself against a robber. Instead she looked fearful, gently raising her hands in compliance to her assailant's will. The notion pleased him immediately. He motioned with his free hand.

   "The purse, gimme the purse." She moved to remove it from her hip, revealing to her grasp the vials she kept secreted beneath it. She stammered, "A-alright," as she offered a flick of her wrist, shattering a vial of black, enveloping the duo in darkness. A shot rang out just as she ducked! Her assailant cursed; he shouldn't have. The scrape of a scabbard was the last thing he ever heard as a sword found his teeth, and consequently an exit curiously enough at the back of his skull. She pulled the sword free with a squelch as she crouched to press the crumbling man's weight over her shoulder to shield her; from a shot that never came. Having paused the moment, her blood was up, and with a burst of strength she charged from the darkness, to find the musketeer unmoved, and unshaken. He fired. Argali's eyes went wide as the bullet pierced her hubris, and she came to a crash with the man over her shoulder tumbling away.

   The musketeer stood coolly and calmly walked over to where the breathless maiden lay gasping on her hands and knees, only dimly aware of his approach. When he entered her space she exploded into motion- only to be smashed in the face with the butt of his weapon. She sputtered as stars and ringing subsumed her. With a kick her sword skittered against the cobbles far out of reach. This couldn't be real...

   "Bloody ezrite.." She felt him rifle her purse, "you're gonna pay for what you done, y'know that?" She managed a gravely snarl in response, but this in itself proved detrimental, and she began gasping again. She was keenly aware that bullet passed somewhere it shouldn't have. He turned her cheek, though she could hardly see straight, he smiled, then gasped, his eyes going wide. In Argali's fading vision, she saw him look down at his chest.. where a sword protruded, blood quickly welling around the wound. As he fell away she saw a young boy, panting. His eyes were wide, her sword held firm in his hands. He was trembling.

   "Pavel.." she managed. And then she knew darkness.

Judgement against Babylon
Isaiah 47   For thou hast trusted in thy wickedness: thou hast said, None seeth me. Thy wisdom and thy knowledge, it hath perverted thee; and thou hast said in thine heart, I am,  and none else beside me. Therefore shall evil come upon thee; thou shalt not know from whence it riseth: and mischief shall fall upon thee; thou shalt not be able to put it off: and desolation shall come upon thee suddenly, which  thou shalt not know. Stand now with thine enchantments, and with the multitude of thy sorceries, wherein thou hast laboured from thy youth; if so be thou shalt be able to profit, if so be thou mayest prevail. Thou art wearied in the multitude of thy counsels. Let now the astrologers, the stargazers, the monthly prognosticators, stand up,  and save thee from these things  that shall come upon thee. Behold, they shall be as stubble; the fire shall burn them; they shall not deliver themselves from the power of the flame: there shall  not be  a coal to warm at, nor  fire to sit before it. Thus shall they be unto thee with  whom thou hast laboured, even  thy merchants, from thy youth: they shall wander every one to his quarter; none shall save thee.
« Last Edit: July 02, 2018, 03:39:58 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #204 on: May 26, 2018, 02:29:43 PM »

Comfort for God's people
Isaiah 40   Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that  the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is  no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have  no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their  strength; they shall mount up with  wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and  they shall walk, and not faint.
Maudlyn... do you hear me?
 
She saw an impossible light amidst the darkness.

Maudlyn, its time to go.

Distantly, she could hear sobbing... she could feel  hands upon her.

"Miss Dupont, Miss Dupont! Wake up! You gotta wake up!"

The light shone brighter, three great pairs of wing stretched broadly as a figure floated into view. He was beautiful... he extended his hand, and Argali reached to take it.

"Miss Dupont..." She heard the sobbing once more, and turned her face from that glory before her.

Maudlyn...

She dared not look at that seraphic visage again; not for the moment.

"There's one last thing I have to do." She turned back to the darkness.

 Her eyes opened amidst a commotion, another duo of men brandished the alley, one was taking Pavel away as he kicked ineffectually at the air. Argali reached for her purse, and found it missing, reaching to her other side she felt the last remaining concoction she had secreted on her person. How fitting: a Heaven's Armor. Though her chest was heavy, and her breath was short, she sat up to quaff the potion. She never had the time as the man nearby saw and charged her with her own sword! She had just the time and energy to get to her feet as they met, the man bowled into her heavily, shoulder first, sending her tumbling backward, and the bottle spinning into a fatal crash against the alley wall. He pressed.

 Argali rolled with the momentum and dashed forward, her leg buckling under her for the effort. She succeeded in surprising the ruffian and tackling him from his feet to a superior position above him, but she had no breath for the landing. She gasped for air as the man smashed her head not once, but twice with the pommel of her sword before she rolled away and only by instinct threw her forearms over her face to prevent what would have been a fatal hack of her skull, instead emitting a loud crack against the chitin of her plate armor, her momentum never ceased and she rolled again and to a hand and foot. Everything was spinning. The man was lunging at her again.

"Miss Dupont!!!"

 The man came just within range to thrust, Argali rose into it batting with the back of her forearm, and following through to grasp the sword by the blade, her back pressing against the man. With a sudden movement her hips were under his, and she hurled him head over heel against the wall, twisting the sword into her grasp. She would have finished him.. had she not stumbled back to crash against the far wall herself, she could hardly breathe. Everything was stars.

 The sound of a cocking pistol broke her reverie. The man with Pavel held him squirming with one hand, and aimed at her with the other. His companion groaned ass over end in a pile of refuse. "That's enough of that, Fey lass. Give it up now, good show. I'd applaud ye but-" Pavel bit him and the man grimaced, a rage came over him and he slung the boy against the wall with all his might. There was a sickening crack as Pavel's face turned to gore and he slumped into a heap, rasping.

 Now Argali saw clearly. The man had the gun leveled at her and spoke with a snarl, "Tell ye what, lass," She approached, her eyes like fire. "You stop RIGHT there and we call it quits." Argali paused. He fired.

 Argali blinked and looked to the hole in her breast.. she felt the warmth drain from her body. She looked to the man, he was in disbelief. He only began running when Argali lurched toward him with her sword held over her shoulder, she wanted a limb at least, any would do, but he was gone; like a thief, in the night. She watched the end of that alley, before noting her foot over her purse. She snatched it up, her breath thin, her movements slowing, her sight failing. She saw the man she hurled limping away from the other end of the alley, she didn't care. She found Pavel, and fishing in her bag, she found her only healing potion. Children are so easily lost,  she thought, and fed him.

 When he awoke, it was in her arms, like the child she'd never have.

The defense of the faith
2 Timothy 4   For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my  course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.


The End


In memory of all the martyr's of the faith. Your glory be forever.
Amen.


The Beginning
Spoiler: show




Pavel would begin his journey, having found a way. He would never forget the woman who saved his life, and dedicated his own to honoring her first and only lesson. Like the mother he never had.

« Last Edit: July 04, 2018, 05:21:22 AM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #205 on: July 02, 2018, 12:33:33 PM »



The Watchers
-Herr Turm


Prologue

  How perfect. How exact.
The narrow river yawned and stretched far below and into the horizon in either direction. The glade and verdance of a world undiscovered sent whorls of fragrant sensation over and through her.
 "How do you feel?"
She turned and smiled freely, a certain emotion sudden to her eyes. She couldn't find words to express herself, and perhaps this was enough, for he smiled too, drawing inevitable laughter from the duo. She pealed off into her own ecstasy, and he watched with a certain and sudden pride. She noticed him before long and grew quiet, and demure.
 "I've known you before you were born," He began, "I watched you grow, and protected you as I was able."
Argali was silent, but her eyes spoke volumes with their intent; she watched in wonder.
 "Where so many have fallen," He smiled once more, radiant. "You are a rare thing."
 "I'm glad.." She intoned.
 "And I am proud. To have charge of you. Now come, there's much to show you."
Her eyes grew more.
 "A world of probability."
She gave pause, "Why probable?"
 He watched her and his eyes seemed to burn and smolder.
 "Because we  have yet to begin."



Chapter 1
Heritage

  Somewhere in a cozy and secluded glen, by a trickling crystal stream, preceded distant grunts and shouts before a harrowing thwack  or snap.
A young boy stands bowed and panting over the remnants of a tree stump, now mostly just pulp and splinters. He leans on the sword protruding from the apex of the havoc. A marvelous and exotic brand if ever there was, the metal seeming to catch and reflect strange and unseen light from its facets. An inscription on the side read in an alien tongue, one young Pavel would never comprehend, though perhaps dabble, in his time.

  Planting his foot on the stump, he wrenches the sword free with great effort, nearly tumbling over in the process, and instead, with a huff, coming to sit at the base of the stump with the sword in his lap, where he marveled at it as he often did, though weary and sodden as he was.


  He suddenly bolted upright and craned his neck.
Did he hear something? After a long and tense moment he relaxed. This was  his  quiet place. His sacred place. This is where he came to be himself. This is where he came to ply his secret; this sword. The book that came with it was also important, even more important, he knew, yet somehow did not grasp. If they found him with anything his own, they would take it. Like they took everything from him, but not this, not his secret and most prized treasure. Its price was blood.

  He resumed his admiration of the sword; It was still sharp, he noted with some pleasure. After a while, a melancholy often associated itself with the blade, which would merely spurn the lad into greater and renewed efforts, as it did now when he rose once again and gave a mighty roar, spinning on the long and already vanquished tree stump.

Thwack!


  He turned to watch a sudden convergence of birds fly off from the trees, and there from the shadows beneath, a trio of familiar boys emerged. Fear gripped his heart. The leader of the whelps, the biggest and foremost in the pack, smiled triumphantly at Pavel as they came from the darkness.
 "Well, well, well!.. Looks like we found where you been hiding all these days! Nice sword. Where'd you steal it?"
Pavel's face was stern as he stood upright and wrenched the sword free once more, he was still panting, but subdued.
 "Can I see it?"
Pavel turned the point on the pack. They laughed mockingly. Their leader spoke once more,
 "You know I only wanna see it, right?"
He was wrong, and he smiled like only a bully could. Pavel was cold, but he spoke,
 "Leave me alone, Grigo. This is my sword, my mom gave it to me."
 "Pah! You don't got no mom, you mule!" Pavel snarled. Grigo grinned.
 "Now hand it over, before I beat you with it."

 
There was a moment of perfect silence.


  Pavel gnashed his teeth, his knuckles trembled, but he sighed lamentably, and hung his head. The boys chuckled as Grigo approached.
"Fight him no more."  He remembered her saying, like an echo through time, and though he quivered with emotion at the memory, he obeyed and offered the sword over with his head bowed. Tentatively Pavel approached the final gulf between them, and seeming to sober in its presence, took the sword from Pavel's hands with a sudden wide eyed wonder. Pavel lifted his eyes. The sword seemed to glow in Grigo's hands.
 "Woahh.." the boys wondered aloud.

 "I have the POWAA!" Grigo lifted the sword heavenward and everyone started cheering, except for Pavel, who pouted, second guessing his actions. Suddenly one of the whelps cried out in agony, frightening the lot. He fell to his knees screaming, clutching a feathered arrow which protruded from his chest. They were frozen in shock when they heard the war cry, "BAK JI MAK, GIODIN! AAAAAGH!" Goblins streamed from the bushes. A yellowskinned leader brandishing a bow stood behind them, It nocked another arrow. Pavel stood transfixed, as death with a hundred knives charged towards him. Grigo roused him from his wide eyed slumber, turning his shoulder harshly. "RUN!" He commanded. Pavel obeyed, darting toward the other boys with Grigo hot behind him. An arrow whistled overhead and planted in a tree beside the lot. The other boy was with the wounded one, and had him on his feet, but he wouldn't stop screaming. "GO!" Grigo cried, shoving the pausing Pavel toward the duo. He wordlessly helped the one carry the other into a stumbling race through the woods. Though they didn't stop, Pavel looked behind.

 Grigo had stopped, brandishing the sword against the first of the goblins to reach them, screeching!




  WACK! A shriek pierced their ears as a pair of wrists came arcing off with a trail of blood, a serrated dagger clattered off an unseen stone. Grigo was roaring as he fell from the other's sight.

  "Go!" Pavel commanded the others as they seemed safely off. The sobbing boy clutched the quarrel still, the other watched Pavel with amazement. "Where are you going?" Pavel spared a determined look. "To help Grigo." And he was gone.

  Racing back through the woods, he heard the boy's cries soon enough. Creeping more quietly now, Pavel came into full view of the carnage. Three goblin lay dead, were there really so few? Grigo was on his knees, head bowed, and panting, sniveling through tears. He kept trying to snort back the phlegm to no avail, it kept coming. There was an arrow in his stomach, but he refused to loose the sword; his knuckles were bloody.

  Pavel almost made toward him when the leader of the attack came into sight, strolling, casual, its head held high and mighty. It paused some paces from Grigo and barked some order, motioning him to toss the sword. Grigo just cried. The goblin spat and lifted its bow, nocking another arrow. Pavel watched in horror, and in that moment of passion gave a final cry of defiance and charged from the treeline, tears streaming from his cheeks.

  Grigo looked aside dully, the goblin with a moment of surprise; yet it turned the bow all the same and set Pavel in its fatal sights. With this final image, Grigo faded from conciousness. Just as the goblin loosed the arrow, a pair of butterflies danced before its eyes, fouling its aim. The shot went wide. A roaring Pavel barreled into the ungainly beast, bowling them both over. When they landed, Pavel scrambled madly to best the beast, but there was no need, a shuddering rattle escaped its teeth, and it fell back limp.

  Calming, Pavel rose slowly, observing the still and lifeless carcass before him. He saw no evidence or cause of death, he was panting, near beside himself in a sortie of emotions he would spend the better part of his childhood deciphering. He turned the goblin with a boot, to reveal the sliver of wood that had inexplicably pierced its ribs, and subsequently its heart. All was silent.

  Finally, Pavel turned to Grigo. He was still, as death. The sword gripped firmly in his hands. A pair of butterfly danced between them, and Pavel noticed them, watching as they disappeared, silently into the sky.





Luke 20   Neither can they die any more: for they are equal unto the  angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.

Spoiler: show
Thanks to all my readers. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your critique and support. God bless you all. :)
« Last Edit: July 02, 2018, 04:03:01 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #206 on: July 15, 2018, 11:34:38 AM »



The Watchers
-Herr Turm

Chapter 2
Pixie Dust

   A lone goblin raced through the woods, constantly looking over his shoulder as he ran in abject terror. Leaves and branches whipped him as he passed in a blur.
 "Gotta tell boss, gotta tell boss!" he kept squawking like a mantra.
Arriving at the den, he was quickly brought before the chief to report what happened. Blacktooth scowled.
 "Be e-z, boss!" A little voice chirped and giggled.
A feral pixie buzzed in the air near his shoulder. She clasped her hands together and bobbed her head encouragingly.
 "Be e-z!" She giggled and Blacktooth waved her away. He settled his jaundiced gaze on the poor goblin before him.
 "What happin?"
The little goblin babbled,
 "Two wing warrior! They fly! Flyyyy!!" he shrieked, "One before- one behine! One turn arrow, one gut Yem! From behine! I swears it on me stash!"
 "Take 'is stash."
 "NAAAOW!" ,he cried as they dragged him away under his arms.
Blacktooth rubbed his disc, glancing sidelong to a suddenly smiling Quin.
 "Looks inta thizz."
Quin bobbed up and down like a good pixie, but she grinned like a bad one; devilish. Smiling once more, she chirped, "O-ki, boss!" and flew off cutely. Blacktooth settled back on his throne and drained the dregs of his cup, turning it upside down as if checking for denied remains. He slumped in his seat and scowled.
 "There better be a feather,"


  Pavel bawled, like only a child can best. He was on his knees before Grigo and wept bitterly, clutching at Grigo's clothes and wringing them.
 "Wake uup!" he shook the fallen boy,
 "Wake uuup!" he wept. Suddenly, sniffling, he stopped.
He watched in otherwise silence as Grigo stirred, turning his head, and lifting the sword slightly. He examined it before offering it back to Pavel and groaning. Pavel took it in hand with astonishment, before returning his attention to a weary Grigo, who was smirking haughtily.
 "Only wanted ta... see it." He winced settling his hands on his knees, as he tried ineffectually to stand. Pavel helped ease him back to his position, Grigo's cockiness began to wither.
 "Told ya so.." he winced and began to tremble and double over.
 "No, no, no!" Pavel set a hand against his descent, and helped him upright.
 "We gotta get out of here, Grigo! More might come.. Or worse.."
Grigo nodded, consumed with pain. Pavel helped him to his feet, he was shaking and unsteady. Pavel supported him with one arm, and brandished the sword with the other. He looked determined.
 "Let's go."

Quin buzzed to and fro over the scene of the carnage, infinitely curious.
 "Huh? Whats that? Huh, huh? Oh! Ewww!" She cringed and shied away from one corpse to another, stopping finally at the most innocuous; that of the yellowskinned leader of the attack, Yem. "Hmmm?" She zipped back and forth, suddenly stopping and bringing a slow hand to her chin, rubbing thoughtfully. "Hmmm." She saw nothing but a lolling tongue and still life. Then she remembered Pwee's story about the backstab and clicked her fingers. With great effort she managed to roll Yem on his side, it would have been impossible for her had he not already been listing to one side already. She then examined his back to find a sliver of wood embedded cleanly between his ribs. Her mouth formed a great 'o' in astonishment. She shrugged,
 "Well, he dead!"
Suddenly, she spun around to a distant, muffled pair of voices in the woods.
 "Huh?" she beamed a line straight for the source. Woosh, swish, thwip! She cut and sliced deftly through the flora and fauna to spy stealthily from behind an old tree. She was still but for her silently humming wings. Below two boys trudged through the woods, one was wounded, the other was helping him; he had a sword.
 "Ooooh." she wondered.
It was a beautiful brand- Magical; She could sense it from this close. It was dripping blood. She grinned deviously, little boys are easy prey. She swooped before them. Pavel gave a startled cry and Grigo raised his eyes groggily, he chortled weakly. "Heh, thats funny.. I'm seeing fairies." Quin danced, "Pixie~ Pixie~" the boys were astonished. "He he he! Hi!" She waved, then suddenly clutched her cheeks in morbid shock. "Oh, no! You're hurt." She beckoned, "Come! Follow me! I help, I help!" she bobbed energetically, a glittery dust began to wash over the boys and she grinned deviously once more. "I help you." Immediately Grigo's eyes glazed over. Pavel wiped at his still running eyes, and sneezed.
Quin shrieked, covered in mucus, "AAAH! MY BEAUTY!" She zoomed around frantically, bouncing off leaves and branches, trying to rid herself from the filth. Sniffling and rubbing his nose, Pavel watched in confusion, when Grigo started tugging at him with completely wide and dialated pupils. Pavel got scared at the sight. Grigo continued to tug him toward the pixie.
 "Come on, Pavel.. lets follow her.."
He was no longer favoring his wound, but smiling dumbly and tugging at Pavel's arm. Pavel yanked away, double handing his sword and watching the pixie come to. He grew stern.
 "No.
She shrieked, throwing her fists in a tantrum,
 "Why you no listen to friend!"
She pointed,
 "Its cause you sick in the head, thats why you have boogers!"
Her pointing intensified dramatically. Grigo gasped and took a step back defensively.
 "Tell him, tell him!"
Grigo laboredly extended his free hand, the other clutched under his wound.
 "Gimme the sword, Pavel.. huh? I just.. wanna see it.." His eyes were perfectly dialated. Pavel shuddered and sneezed again, and Grigo recoiled in fear. Then, wincing in pain, he stumbled into a nearby tree and leaned heavily against it, panting.
 "Let him go, you bug!" Pavel brandished the sword and Quin flew into a fury.
 "Bug?! BUG!? I'll killll youuuu!" The pixie attacked and Pavel flailed ineffectually against her staggering reflex and speed. Repeatedly she punched and kicked him, pulled his hair and even bit him. Pavel cried out in distress under the assault, but suddenly seized, about to sneeze. Quin was busy pulling his hair when he did, launching her screaming into a tree, where she tumbled to the ground, stunned. "Guhhh.." She was completely frazzled. Pavel froze as Grigo picked her up, protectively.
"Give her to me, Grigo!"
 "No, she's my friend!"
 "No she's not, she's messing your head!"
 "Thats just friendship!"
 "No, its magic!" Pavel suddenly began to wrestle with Grigo for control, they struggled against another for a while, until Grigo yelped and Quin buzzed free rubbing her head and pouting. The boys both watched. She bristled with anger then, and burst into tears, flying away. "Stupiiiiiiids-" She could be heard disappearing into the distance. Grigo slowly turned his gaze on Pavel, and seemed to be coming to. Pavel swatted the back of his head, and he woke up, growling at Pavel, but only for a moment, as he remembered his agony and resumed favoring his wound. Pavel watched where she had gone as Grigo quivered under his touch,
 "Lets go home.."
He nodded.
 "Yeah.."

Quin finished whispering in Blackroot's ear, grinning diplomatically afterward and bobbing her head energetically. Blackroot turned his jaundiced gaze on the surviving goblin brought back before him. He scowled.
 "Pwee, you are da worse shaman." He palmed his face and shook his head.
Pwee gave protest, "What she say!" He growled at the pixie who stuck out her tongue tauntingly; he pointed accusingly.
 "You lie!"
 "PWEE!" He jumped at the chiefs bellow, and wringing his hands, returned his attention, gulping.
Blacktooth swiped a hand,
 "Quin fine some boyz wit one sword! An Yem wit woodz in hiz back, no sword! No sword, no feather, no wing warrior! How you ezplain dat?"
Pwee gulped once more, fidgeting with his hands.
 "I saws it boss, I swears it on me stash!"
Blacktooth was astonished. Quin giggled maddly. Blacktooth stood slowly, and ominous.
 "You tell me iz jus' boyz wit one sword kill all dem? An you RUN? An you LIE?"
Pwee began blubbering, Blacktooth cut him short.
 "Iz not jus' manz you fear, but boyz? You LIE! You are WEAK! You are LIAR!"
Pwee was trying to explain himself to no avail. The chief turned suddenly and made a dismissive gesture,
 "Feed him to Berta," Pwee howled as they dragged him away, "Liar iz best food."
Quin cheered and made to follow, but was stopped by the chief.
 "Quin."
Blinking rapidly, "Boss?"
 "You know dem boyz?"
She nodded energetically, clasping her hands and smiling sweetly.
 "Fine dem, an showz us."
 "O-ki, boss! E-z p-z!"
Blackroot smiled vilely. Quin deviously wrung her little hands.
 "He he he he!"

  Blacktooth oversaw Pwee's execution with grim satisfaction. As the shaman screamed, and Quin cheered, he turned to leave, only pausing to observe a feather floating down in to view; he froze. Slowly, he looked up. There was nothing. He returned to the pit.
 "Ooo! She's hungrry! Ha ha ha ha!" There was a roar, and a scream. Quin cheered.
Blacktooth leaned over the railing to observe a poof a feathers from Pwee's headdress. Internally, he sighed with relief, and flicked the feather into the pit, smirking to himself. He stopped suddenly- eyes gone wide. He spun around to observe a perfectly white feather settle peacefully down among the black and the blood.





[Hebrews 1:14]   Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #207 on: September 24, 2018, 08:28:10 AM »
   Excerpts from an old and torn journal...



  It is said in the city of my blood- that those who fall the farthest, have the highest calling. The measure of worth is not a scale, or even time, but only the ground on which you stand. So many with every answer, but the question all along was: where do you stand?

  Faithful, my doubtless; forever my companion. To you I turn to voice my soul when my path finds me alone. A dark and weary road I tread, yet warmth fills my bosom at the memory of you, and the hope of what's to come. Free from this coil we all shall be when time runs its course, or have you bound to some yoke? Are you slave to some dark power... will you never shed this husk and inherit awe? And glory? Have you forgotten your worth? Have you forgotten your value? Did you believe a lie, and give yourself into bondage?

   It is also said, in the city of my blood- that those who believe only what they see, will always be slave to what they cannot. So, what do you see?





To know your self, is to know your enemy, and to know your enemy, is to know their weakness: your strength.




Be strong, my heart.
Though this world will pass away... my love is indestructible.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2018, 08:30:06 AM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #208 on: November 02, 2018, 08:31:22 AM »
O, to ever  I have wandered.


Argali knew but one thing.
It was to dance. To dance like none before.

To be given another gift of life,
do it honor...

unto death.


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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #209 on: November 12, 2018, 10:53:10 AM »

  I find myself irrevocably drawn,  upon a canvas of void and luminescence. It shimmers like a dream.

I was killed. I was dead. Months.. days... hours. Have I been forgotten? Will I be remembered? Those men. They shot me. They killed me.
All my years, all my training, it served me little in the end...

Only it was not the end, but only the beginning.


While I breathe I will never rest.


Mon sang pour les leurs.

  For only the love of the little ones...

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #210 on: November 26, 2018, 02:27:54 PM »
[The entry constitutes a depiction.]
So many memories...
There's only one way.

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #211 on: January 20, 2019, 05:43:13 PM »


CIRCA 774

Maudlyn A Dupont

"It is better to walk with God- then to run with the devil."




Hosea 4:6   My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee, that thou  shalt be no priest to me: seeing thou hast forgotten the law of thy God, I will also forget thy children.

Sunday School

  Argali awoke before dawn. Whatever reverie, lethargy, or imagination held her being dissipated by her morning supplication; her prayers. Like her fey sinew and muscles, her spirit had continued to grow, and even flourish here, so far removed from the miasma of the artificial Construct- what humans called Society.

  Out here, nature held dominion, and so she had come to understand certain things a life among the younger races had stymied, that their pagan culture and idols sought to consume. Her Lord, her Savior, how awesome truth was- though born another world, another reality, she had never known such beauty and simplicity. Though the devil ruled this world of flesh and bone, there were worlds yet removed, that of the spirit, that which she knew so well, for from it she was born, and in it she lived, died, and would remain eternal.

  The boys stirred, she could hear them clamor about as they fixed breakfast. It was Sunday, they would pray, and then they would train. Though her brood were young, they were strong, and most importantly, motivated. Perhaps it was their love for her, but such carnal thoughts would not sustain them, for she could not reciprocate such folly. They would learn, and they would grow. Just as she had, and would, and was. And so she rose from her private place of worship, and turned to meet the day. For fate is what we make of it.


Such strange eyes, which walked by faith, and not by sight.


Mon sang pour les leurs.
« Last Edit: January 20, 2019, 05:49:44 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #212 on: January 27, 2019, 06:46:13 AM »

ACTS 4:10-11  Be it known unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom ye crucified, whom God raised from the dead, even  by him doth this man  stand here before you whole.  This is the stone which was set at nought of you builders, which is become the head of the corner.


Pilgrimage

  Argali knelt and embraced the smallest child. She had already explained where she was going, and how long she would be, but the strength of the child proved almost insurmountable. "Don't go!" Argali couldn't help but laugh internally. She smiled therefore, and held the child at arms length, marveling over such a creation. "I have to. I am called by the Lord." The child cried, and Argali's smile turned to one of joy and sorrow. She rose before she grow overly maudlin- though her name was similar, her heart was stronger than any term or endearment. She heard Him calling: once more: and more; stronger then ever before.


ACTS 4:12  Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.


Only when she entered the city gates did she shed tears, for the evil which confounded the people. And her blood grew hot, and implacable.



Revelation 13:18  Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is  Six hundred threescore and  six.



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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #213 on: March 07, 2019, 04:32:10 PM »

   Magic... Argali had never manifested signs before. Life in her father's shadow hid a scarred and stern visage, yet since meeting the Preacher her scars began to heal, and her rigidity had given way to a form like clear water, such that no lesser substance could long muddy her depths. She was young when she arrived on that misty and fateful day, and still she remained, but she was strong, in mind and in body, and still something more, quite intangible, but palpable all the same. She was a perfect enigma, and lovely to behold- if fleeting, like a blue sky, or a butterfly. While her smile could engender such fealty, she gave it free, and uncompromisingly. Never asking any thing  save peace.

   Magic... Argali had never manifested signs before.

Something had changed.


For all her love, for all her light, there were many who hated her still. For those who hate do so for hatred sake. For a bad tree bears bad fruit, as a good tree bears good fruit.

   And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance: but he that cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire: Whose fan is in his hand, and he will throughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.


How can I ever forget...
« Last Edit: March 07, 2019, 07:18:47 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #214 on: May 20, 2019, 01:44:01 AM »

" Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. "
-Matthew 5:13




She didn't need to hide.
Argali Dupont


  She shore her hair, long red locks spilling to the floor and washbasin before her...
She grinned at herself in the mirror. Her hair was short enough to stop snagging at bramble and in her eyes
- let alone a beast  of a man. Such savagery. They bathe in the blood of their enemies. They don't discriminate on any species I've yet noted.. Perhaps, in time, they may see me as I am. Until then, mine is the grand endeavor.

Ai ren yalo!


 Lord God... Glory be your name. May I serve you unto death for your love and creation. May we serve eachother, held in the promise of your law, which is your Word. May our faith prove holy, and sanctified, and rich in blessing. May we praise and honor your name, our king: Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Who bore the truth of our heritage, and the curse of death, for our salvation through Him.
Set your angels among us, Lord!

Selah!





Amen.
« Last Edit: May 21, 2019, 02:33:02 PM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #215 on: May 24, 2019, 01:10:00 PM »


He called me Maudlyn.



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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #216 on: June 03, 2019, 04:25:56 PM »
[Blood stains the pages, here... ]
   Argali sat huddled within her bearskin mantle, a hefty sack of coin sat in direct contrast to the crackling fireplace behind it. A life of serving bounties for the courts had accrued a small fortune. Blood money. Though it was hard to see the men and beasts she hunted as anything more than parasitic vermin. They preyed on the children, and anything else they could possibly pervert. Argali had served the courts by night, for a long time.
   Despite what she taught and was trained, she could not deny her greatest talent; her black hand. She could not help but feel she was too long down this path, but... perhaps there was purpose in her pain. Long had she lived by the sword, but as she well knew, a time would come she would have to die by it. It would not be the first time- but for most, the first is last.
05/31/774
   Since returning, I have done little but hunt bounties and occasionally socialize. I know to kill is a sin, but I have argued that what I am doing is not killing, but hunting. Not killing, because it is out of what I believe to be necessity. Without bereavement such as mine, the sorrows would proliferate. This blood money feeds many, but never enough.

 Is there faith, hope, and charity in it? This is a work of Argali, and not Maudlyn. She called you that. Your mother. Mother.
Sometimes it is difficult to see where one line ends, and another begins. Strange dimensions, where past meets present. Though we were sinners, may God keep us, and break this curse.


Mon sang pour les leurs.
06/1/774
Ghosts have a way to persist...
Upon visiting Vallaki, I could not find the whereabouts to some old friend of mine. I am beginning to feel I never will. His name was Gergely Cillei. I miss him.

 Let me not watch another generation die. Forsake us not, Lord. I am not finished. Till thy kingdom come.



"But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."


"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

Amen.
« Last Edit: June 06, 2019, 01:04:46 AM by Mailbox-2100 »

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Re: Heterochromia
« Reply #217 on: August 16, 2019, 05:52:02 AM »
30,000 Strong

Mon sang pour les leurs.
08/16/774
  It has been some time since I have had the heart to write. I have estranged myself from all I know, but for the love of you, Lord. Though my passions call me to many, my heart is after You before all. I bow in Your presence- Your way, Your truth, Your life- Lead me on the paths of wisdom, for that which men claim to be is foolishness unto You, Lord. I am testament. I strayed for the love of fear, but You promised me comfort if I but walked by faith some little more; evermore, everafter, and everlasting. I thank You for the blessings afforded me, especially when I was too blind to see; I rejoice! And the young and the old alike smile for the light I shew forth, even if some are in derision, it is no reflection of me, but of that which afflicts them: may they be delivered!

  I write these memoirs in the good faith that it will stir the heavens to move, and the earth to tremble underneath. Bless Your angels among us, and may I be honored to witness their radiance. I pray our strength is ever increasing, and thank You for the anointing You have given us. Even Toman, and he is so small! What wisdom begets his mouth! And wonder lights his eyes! I pray we can all remember such childlike innocence, but be delivered from ignorance.

  So much has passed between now, and then, but my eyes are set firmly. May my heart never harden, but grow as light as it glows.

Amen, God. In Jesus name, Almighty. Amen.