1780

Blotted Ink with a Broken Quill

United States

13 years old.
In love with books.
Ranger's Apprentice. 1
Dawn of Wonder. 2
Wings of Fire. 3
Warriors. 4
Percy Jackson. 5

ENFP-T

Coldplay.
Beatles.

Guitarist.
Artist.
Screamer.
Lover.
Actor.

Join Date: September 12, 2018

Message from Writer

I have found that what I put here before was very deep.
Nah...
Just wanted to say hi.
So hello.

And remember that whoever you are, however you look, in what way you think, what you drink, how you express yourself, how you write, what music you listen to, and even how long your fingernails are, the only real thing about you is what you decide to be.

Of Ash and Elm

June 16, 2019

Windswept plains and towering mountains stood over and around the rushing rivers, the stoic trees, the stretching flowers, and the singing birds. 
In time came villages, towering cities, with flourishing colors found in dresses and tunics and cloaks and leathers. 
But it had been a long time since I had come. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
    I awoke to the sound of... nothing. Not surprising exactly. 
Grasping around, I felt cold earth and a pressing weight.  
    I opened my eyes—which was a relief; it would have been hard to go without them for a few days. There was nothing, or what a simpler man would call nothing. 
    Darkness spoke in silent yet overpowering whispers, and the presence of it demanded respect, but I wasn't overly worried. 
When I tried to move, not much happened, so I applied more strength until the earth above me shifted. 
    I slowly dug myself out, relishing the feeling of movement; after all, being trapped underground for a hundred years isn't exactly pleasant. 
Finally, a hand struck air, and the other began helping ravenously, and soon, my head broke out.  
    I looked up into the sky and found stars and the fourth and seventh moons. Back near the site of impromptu burial, black stained dirt and small crumbled pieces littered the ground. I smirked. "Burning me? What a silly thought." 
    My voice was like a fire poker being dragged across cobblestones. 
"Demonic superstition reaches farther than I thought." 
    There was no one to hear me, but it felt right to speak out load. The sound of my voice was hoarse. I tried a laugh, and the laugh turned into hysterical noise, which only made me laugh harder. It was good to be back. 
    I took a moment to look around, noticing there was a beautiful sheen cast over the forest by the moons. A badger tucked its head into its den in a bramble thicket, and small squirrel scampered over the grass up a good sized elm tree with beautiful branches, a lark flew to a nest in a nearby oak with golden leaves. 
        So peaceful... 
Time to change that. I took a deep breath, flexing my will; I had a few loose ends to tie up around the kingdom. In an instant, the world snapped with a sound like rolling thunder, and I disappeared. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
    "Yer right bloody mad, Jacob! Comin' inta town, and causin a racket like this 'un? What deh yah mean, demons? Right silly superstition that is," Said Jameson, the town's tanner. 
    Jacob, the smith's son, had ran through town a handful of minutes earlier screaming, "Demon! Demon in the woods!". Of course, no one believed him. 
    "Calm down." This was Cassandra, Jameson's wife; a kind women with a soothing voice and caring hands. She turned to Jacob, put a hand on his shoulder and said in her most soothing voice, "Now what'd ya see, hon?"     
    Jacob took a few gasping breaths, then, stuttered through his explanation, "It's only a few m-mile outt'a town, near the elm; t-t'won't take yeh long." He looked as though he'd seen a ghost, all pale and the like. 
    Jameson huffed. "Why shud we'havta go hunting for bedtime stories?" 
   "Give the boy a chance, Jameson. It's probably no demon, but we could'ave something else as nasty and just as real. No reason to leave a wound to fester, even if ya don't know what caused it." This time, it was Ander, the innkeeper. 
    By now, Jacob had pulled to the back of the crowd and was being comforted by his mother. The fact that he was so shaken was a testament to the legitimacy of the threat, whatever it happened to be. The boy rarely showed more emotion than a nod or a shake of his head... unless he was with Lyla, Ander's daughter. 
    "Who wants to go an' take a look?" Inquired Taldin, breaking the silence. He one of the few in the village who knew which way to hold a spear, and he was favored by most of the townsfolk. Ander gave him a grateful smile. 
    Half a dozen raised hands, and the man nodded. 
    "Alright, that's settled then, we leave in half a sundial mark from now." 
    The motley group of villagers gathered their meager equipment, then plodded through the forest, some with spears, some with hunting bows, and others with only scythes and pitchforks.  
    They all knew their way to the old elm: along the paved path, up the ridge with the deer path, around the salmon fishing pond, then down to the thick part of the forest with the barrow, then the elm and t-... 

The men stopped dead in their tracks. Ander, with horror on his face, poked at a ember with his foot. The group of men were silent as they looked upon a massive crater the size of three inns put together. The area looked as though hell had decided to pay a visit. There were only ashen stumps and blackened husks. Flames licking greedily at the last specks of wood. 
    "It is a right demon," said Jameson quietly. 
    "Or it was one that caused this," added Taldin. 
    There was a break in conversation. 
    "That ain't no a demon," breathed Corin the peddler. "No demon in living hell could do something like this, no."  
     
"It's something much worse."

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