A Bladesmith's Journey

"You can't go home again."

2009-05-10T22:18:00.000+06:00

Walking under the harsh lights of the city, a thought creeps up behind me and stabs me in the heart.

There are only two things I deeply fear.

Leaving this city and never being able to come back.

And never being able to leave. Ever.

Ode to Decadence

2008-08-22T01:01:00.001+06:00

Carry over in quiet delight

Run along your lonely shore

Walk off into the vast expanse of your private wasteland

Go off in your senseless search for something more

Go play in the sand like children do

Start the new day that your yesterday refused

Stare into the sun and watch angels fly home

Run after the last cloud in the sky, run along home

Let go of old ties, old lies and old wives

Go and find your something new

Shut out the voices of those you hold dear

Ignore their wailing calls, ignore their bitter tears

Turn away from whatever they taught you to be

Throw away dreams that were never you

Alone is how you were and how you're meant to be

Lose the illusion of me, lose the illusion of you

Far away from binding ropes and closed doors

Chase after open skies like you're given to do

Lose yourself in your madness

Lose yourself in you.

the silence at my door

2007-02-09T15:16:00.000+05:00

Is that why the daylight gets to me?

How hard we try to keep them out;
those unwelcome souls trying to peer over the walls we've built.
Bitter and scared, how desperately we hide, wishing they'd just leave.

The wolves still knock on our door.

But you know what's scarier?
It's when they stop knocking altogether.

The utter terror of that moment, when the cold silence hits you;
when despair tears right through you.
Few things rattle the core of your soul like that horrible silence.

In an instant, all your defenses are ripped away and you're exposed to the unforgiving bitter truth:
You are alone.
Your silent scream reaches a crescendo, but there's no one left to hear you.

What do you do then?

of a place called home

2006-11-12T03:07:00.000+05:00

Time has a way of teaching you to how to build walls around you; each brick laid carefully in its proper place at the proper time.

Slowly, you build your own little world inside the private landscape of your soul;
an Eden sheltered from the barbs of humanity's frailties, a small escape from the desolate desperation of the world outside.

And so here I rule, king of my private kingdom with tender loving care, far from the ghosts that haunt my troubled mind;
a place I can be myself.
A place I can call home.

Then why is it always raining here?

The Lightmaker's betrayal

2006-03-23T12:58:00.000+05:00

Rain tore down from a steel-grey sky writhing in madness, hammering down on the desolate ruins that Eternity had left in its unforgiving wake.

Bound in chains of jagged memories, I labored in the lost quarry of Yesterday’s Dreams, hacking away relentlessly at the Marble of Wishes. Time, the Silent Spectator, was bored with my futile efforts; it had bled off my tired resolve and long since abandoned me to the bitter hands of Fate.

Even the greedy earth sought to slow my efforts but oblivious to it all, I carried on stubbornly. Warmth deserted me, then Voice, and finally Thought too decided to take flight and was lost to me, but my grim task still beckoned.

Day and Night continued their sickening dance in their tyrannical sky above; only the cruel rain stayed to keep watch over me.

How long I labored in that forsaken quarry, I do not know or care.

It was only when the Betrayed Siren’s morbid song wove its foreboding shadow into the tattered remnants of a once-beautiful Flower of Light, did the Marble succumb to my blunt insistence.

Far beyond the horizon, deep in the shade of the Forest of Forgetfulness, a half-muted prayer escaped the lips of a faithless man and the Forest’s delicate shimmering violet blossoms drifted to the ground, fading to a lifeless grey as the vampiric Earth basked in the carpet of songless petals.

The once-white flawless marble crumbled to jagged pieces of the blackest hate as I laboriously cleared the rubble to clear a passage into the depths of the hulking mountain that stood in my way.

I was close. So very close.

It wasn’t until the Night had fallen asleep and had lost itself in its own whimsical dreams that I found the Lightmaker’s ethereal temple nestled deep in the mountain’s oppressive embrace.

A vast crystal hall flushed with the gentlest light stretched out before me; through a maze of serene glass walls etched in intricate desire, unerringly I made my way to the cell in which salvation hid.

And there, in the very pit of this vast cathedral I found Despair intoxicated in its own sweet nightmares, bound by the flimsy Ropes of Reason.

Its distant eyes glinted with recognition at the sight of my desperation.

With all my might, I drove my axe deep into its icy chest.

A deafening scream of white agony ripped out of Despair’s yawning mouth as it writhed in its bonds.

The coldest quicksilver of Indifference gushed forth from its black heart; greedily I cupped my trembling hands and drank deep.

Liquid metal tore through my veins while crystal walls twisted and shrieked in an unearthly cacophony, rebelling against my act of mutiny.

Raw emotion impaled Reason upon its ephemeral spear as it found swift, savage release leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Insanity had at last found its precious moment as the shimmering pool of liquid metal dragged me down and claimed my last tortured breath for its prize.

I awoke under judgmental starlight and a moon wallowing in a sorrow it was never meant to carry.

Before me the last Flower of Light concluded its deep black song and crumbled into glittering dust, entrusting its remains to the fickle night-breeze.

The Temple of the Lightmaker mourned loss of its soul, the very soul I had so selfishly stolen, and in its luminescent sadness returned once more to its celestial kingdom far beyond the reach of mortal eyes.

And far above in the glittering heavens it wrote its tragic poetry in magical starlight, its crystal tears staining the nightsky in beautiful violet sorrow.

A tinge of regret pierced my heart, but only for a moment.

It was a heavy price to pay, but at long last I could hold some small measure of Solace in my hand, if only for a little while.

And maybe for just a little while, I could be free.

under the veil of weathered twilight

2005-12-26T01:38:00.000+05:00

The cold night-air hung listlessly in the soft moonlight.
Countless stars drifted in the sky's black ocean, beautiful in their serene stillness.

I closed my jaded eyes and took a slow deep breath.
Tired limbs ached in muted protest: it had been a trying road, but they had earned their rest.

Seeing me sitting alone in the vast barren Field of Thoughts, Silence decided to stay and keep me company.

The Cold firmed its hold on me; but my faded cloak held me close.

I was in no mood for a fire; I didn't want to get used to its fickle warmth.
Best I learned to get by without it.

Reason and Doubt had harried me through the day and, truth be told, they had beaten me soundly.
Further down the road, I knew Reflection and Despair howled for my blood.

But they were mere hound dogs.

It was Truth that I feared most; because I had seen myself in its reflection…and I did not like what I saw.

At least out here, I can find some small respite, even if only for a few fleeting moments.

I tried to drown out the call of the road and brought my wandering thoughts back to my side.

Gingerly, I tended to the wounds that I had picked up on my journey.

I grimaced as a few reopened.

It was a good thing no one was around to see me like this, I mused.

I knew there were a few inns a little farther down the road.
Yet another place full of strangers.

I'd rather take my chances out here; it's better than wandering aimlessly in the Sea of Nameless Faces.

The stars watched me with detached curiosity from their tranquil playground.

It was so peaceful here.

A coward's refuge, some would say.
Maybe it is.

I tried to rest, but Sleep has little patience with troubled minds, and so it kept its distance.

My thoughts strayed from my side and basked in the distant moonlight until Dawn’s arrival drew near.

Oh, how I hated the sunrise. But it always comes.

I shrugged in tired resignation, and a whispered curse escaped my lips.

Unsteadily, I got on my feet and slowly trudged back to the road away.

my own reverie

2005-11-12T00:54:00.000+05:00

Somewhere far above my troubled head,
in hesitant skies;
flies a lone bird strung up by hidden threads.

The puppetmaster's game has yet to unfold;
dancing to someone else's song,
I tell stories that shouldn't be told.

Dreading daylight in all its frightful light,
I shield my tired eyes;
At least here in the gentle starlight, I may find some respite.

The velvet night does not judge me,
but the cruel sun and its followers will;
so I wait patiently, until dusk's arrival sets me free.

Brooding and listless I walk in a daze,
stumbling amongst puppets all day long;
In my own mirror, all I see is a stranger's face.

Silence, my truest friend still,
shows me the illusion that is life:
tells me how man is a slave to his own will.

somewhere between sleep and dreams I lie,
I must remind myself of who I was,
before I forget that lie.

guilty as charged

2005-10-08T14:05:00.001+05:00

It was a hard journey across the Field of Memories; the deceitful terrain had slowed me down to a snail’s pace.

As Evening inexorably stifled the dwindling light, the Fog of Truth shrouded me in an ever-thickening swirling wall of grey.

Lost and disoriented, my feet sunken in the sludgy soil underfoot, I struggled on.

But soon, exhaustion took its toll; I stumbled and fell down on my hands.

That is when they came.

The Fog suddenly became alive, seething with unseen hands dragging me down, trying to swallow me whole.

Threatening to break me, consume me.

I refused to surrender my individuality.

I fought and fought and fought...never stopping, never breathing; grubby fingers pulled me close, their sickly metallic stench flooded my lungs.

Caught in panic’s unrelenting embrace, I let out a scream to drown a thousand screams; hacking, biting, slicing, I tore my way through the sea of grey.

But the Fog had bled the strength from my limbs; painfully slowly, I was dragged to the ground.

The taste of the bitter soil forced its way into my mouth as my head was pushed hard down into the dirt.

Kicking and screaming, a blood-curdling roar born of blind anguish and desperation tore out of me.

Then, just as suddenly, it all stopped.

I found myself face down in the dirt wrestling with thin air.

There was nothing there.

The Fog had dissipated into an ethereal mist.

Pain ripped through my arm as the acrid smell of burning flesh flared into the air.

My eyes widened when I wrenched up my arm.

Still smoldering, the word “guilty” had been branded into it.

For a brief moment, the distant sound of children’s laughter fluttered around me.

I listened closely.

Only, it wasn’t a child’s laugh.

It was something grossly inhuman mimicking a child’s laugh.

Too exhausted to stand, I let sweet blackness overwhelm me.

Unwelcome consciousness slowly seeped into my head as my senses grudgingly began to work again.

I was slumped against a wall in a dark corridor. With some effort, I stood up.

There was a door at the end of the corridor.

Hacked roughly into the wood were the words:

“No one is innocent”.

I went inside.

There in the centre of the room lay a corpse; the word “innocent” was branded into its arm.

Scrawny mindless demons, forms that were a gross parody of human bodies, devoured the corpse ever so slowly, relishing every bite.

The faint sound of their raspy inhuman breath hung in the air.

Their eyeless faces turned to me. Shreds of putrescent flesh hung from their hideous teeth.

One of them smiled sickeningly slowly.

A rivulet of blood dripped off its jaws.

I declined its invitation and turned away in disgust.

They returned to their feast.

The soft wet sound of flesh being chewed followed me for some time.

It was a several hours’ journey to the nearest road. I had a lot of time to think on that walk.

Fear followed me like some mindless phantom, always staying just out of sight.

The demon’s smile lingered in my thoughts; that depraved smile that said “you’ll come around...... you and I are the same.”

I had been judged….and I had been allowed to leave.

I felt the brand on my arm.

“Guilty”?

In this world, no one is “guilty” or “innocent”.

Those moral high roads exist only in tales and stories.

No, in this world, one does exactly what one must; nothing more, nothing less.

Innocence and guilt don’t even figure into the equation.

I grunted in contempt.

The guilty condemning the guilty... how ironic.

“No one is innocent.”

The house at the end of the world

2005-09-21T01:55:00.000+05:00

The black night smothered the earth, shrouding it in its silent embrace.

Walking through the bitter cold darkness, I sought shelter at an ungodly hour.

I held my heavy cloak close but the cold still seeped through it unbidden.

Far above me storm clouds gathered in an oppressive black sky.

The rain will be merciless tonight.

There, at the end of the world stood a lonely house; I made my way towards it.

It was an old and broken abode drenched in shadow. Darkness bled from its broken windows; a half-shattered door hung listlessly from its broken hinges.

Parts of the tired walls had already fallen in several places.

Shadows slithered across the walls and grounds of the house; demons silently kept vigil upon its decayed walls.

I walked up to the door unchallenged; they weren’t interested in me.

They were here for something else.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few watching me from a distance, their jaws twisted in savage putrescent grins, unmoving faces drowned in black.

The sky above me thundered threateningly.

Not much of a shelter, but it would have to do.

The door creaked in protest as I entered. The gloom engulfed me like some blood-hungry parasite.

Guilt and regret stained the walls while remnants of shattered dreams crunched underfoot.

Remorse hung heavy in the air.

The gloom flooded into every corner, stifling any shred of color in this pitiful abode.

Something caught my eye. In the blackest corner of this of this lifeless house, there sat...a man?

I moved closer.

There, huddled on the floor, sat a man blanketed in obscurity.

I could just barely hear the sound of his quiet breath.

A flash of lightning revealed him sitting unnaturally still, blindfolded, and bound in heavy rusted chains.

I looked up; the roof was riddled with holes, some large, some small.

I turned my attention back to the morbid curiosity that sat before me.

Strange. His bonds had almost rusted away; and he was not injured in any obvious way.

Why was he here?

He jerked his head up suddenly, and faced me.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

His voice was completely void of feeling, slow, deliberate.

After a long pause in that same dead manner, he asked me to leave.

I stared at him impassively.

He turned his head down slowly, and repeated his request.

Adjusting my heavy cloak, I sat down against the wall facing the man.

It started to rain.

"Who are you, old man?" I asked.

He slowly opened his mouth and a long abrasive scream from deep inside him poured out.

It just kept building higher and higher.

Thunder boomed outside, drowning his scream.

He was silent again.

Unimpressed, I watched him with mild disdain.

Rain gushed down from the holes in the roof.

Undead demons cloaked in black stood in the windows. They were smiling.

I looked at the window. There was nothing there.

After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.

“I am…a prisoner.”

I could feel the weight behind his words.

“Long ago, I built this house with my bare hands. Now, it is my prison.”

I looked at the walls again. Stains of guilt and regret splattered everywhere.

“For all those things that I have said and done…”

His head dipped even lower.

“…for all those things I should have said and done…I deserve to be punished.”

He jerked his head up and cried out in anguish: “I DEMAND PUNISHMENT!”

His voice dropped to a whisper: “Let me pay what I owe, so I can sleep at night.”

The sound of the falling rain filled the empty silence after his words.

For the longest time, neither of us said a word.

The demons watched. Never-moving, faceless, noiseless.

I laughed out loud.

“Fool.” I muttered witheringly.

His head turned slightly.

“You were a coward then and you're a coward now, old man.

You rant on about punishment, but it’s not going to find you sitting in this hole.

Your penance lies out there..."

I pointed to the door.

"If you really wanted punishment you’d be out there, facing your demons…if only you had the guts."

Once more he turned to impassive stone.

A thought occurred to me.

“Or maybe, you’re not looking for punishment after all...” I mused.

“…maybe, you’re just looking for an escape.

In that case, there's an easier way to do that."

I let out a chuckle.

“I’ll make it easy on you, old man.”

It had stopped raining.

I got up and doused the walls with fuel oil.

I rattled a small box of matches loudly.

That and the smell of oil got his attention.

"I'm going to set this house of yours on fire, old man....whether or not you're inside it.

If you want redemption, then go outside and claim it. Or burn to death with your precious prison.

Either way, I will destroy this pathetic dungeon of yours.”

I stepped outside; darkness still held on fast to the tiny house.

The demons watched me in perfect stillness. Dark faces that weren’t faces frozen in sick smiles.

I set the house on fire.

Sitting on a nearby rock, I watched the house burn itself down.

The farthest reaches of the horizon began to lighten softly.

Dawn was on its way.

Did the old man escape?

Or would I find his charred corpse in the burnt ruins of that house?

I stood up.......

and turned my back on the house.

I didn’t really give a damn.

I went on my way.

Buried In Time

2005-09-04T01:53:00.000+05:00

The boy ran through the woods in sheer terror.

Something was chasing him, but he didn't know what it was. He hadn't even seen it; and he sure as hell didn't want to see it.

All he knew was that there was something monstrous chasing him.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his lungs ready to burst.

Tripping over some roots he crashed headlong into the grass.

Getting his bearings, he looked back in horror, waiting for the inevitable attack.

But there was nothing there.

Nothing but miles of serene forest all round.

He sat there too scared to breath, listening intently; but he was pretty much all alone.

He calmed himself down, and allowed his racing pulse to subside.

There was nothing there.

He took a deep breath of relief.

He realized he didn't know where he was. After some wandering, he came across a clearing and saw a man standing beside a tree.

"Can you help me?" he asked the man.

The caretaker turned around, a bit puzzled to hear another voice in this lonely neck of the woods.

He saw the boy and put on a gentle smile.

Though the caretaker wasn't exactly old, he was certainly getting there.

His face was hard, weathered....but his bright eyes were full of warmth.

"What’s wrong, son?" he asked the boy.

The boy explained what had happened, in as much detail as he could.

The caretaker held his long wooden staff thoughtfully as he listened to the boy’s story.

There wasn’t much to explain, really. All the boy knew was that he was being chased by something vicious.

"Do you know what it was?" the boy asked.

The caretaker nodded grimly and muttered:

"Something that should be lying dead and buried somewhere far away; I should know, I buried it myself."

He turned to the boy: "It's dangerous, I’ll tell you that much. Let's just say it’s looking for something."

The caretaker put on a smile.

"Don't you worry, son. I'll take care of it; you just go home and never come back here again."

The boy was puzzled, but relieved.

The caretaker pointed him homewards, and watched him leave.

Of course, the caretaker knew what it was.

He stood perfectly still, lost deep in thought.

It was something the boy shouldn't have to face, for now, he mused.

All those flaws, all those frailties, all those doubts and insecurities about themselves that the young so desperately avoid facing.

All those demons that threaten to devour him whole...

The next morning, the caretaker was finishing work on an unmarked grave.

The boy came up from behind him.

"So, you've buried it." he said.

The caretaker turned around in mild surprise; his face betrayed a hint of annoyance.

"I told you not to come back here." he frowned.

The caretaker stood up, leaning on his staff.

"I've buried it deep. Don't worry; it seldom roams around like that."

He paused.

"But, sometimes it does wander. Usually I manage to bring it back before it wanders too far, but I can't be here all the time."

There was a long silence. The boy looked at the caretaker, studying him for a moment.

"What happens if someone comes looking for it?"

The caretaker didn't reply.

The boy held his gaze.

"What if...I came looking for it?"

The caretaker turned his head slightly in the boy's direction.

He didn't meet his gaze.

"In that case, I shall make many graves. No one will know which one is its grave."

He sent the boy away and set to work.

The next evening, the boy stood with the caretaker in the middle of a small cemetery.

There were all sorts of tombs there, from intricate mausoleums to just plain mounds in the dirt.

All of them were nameless.

"Daylight's fading away, lad. You'd best be on your way."

The boy looked to the horizon and nodded.

The caretaker watched him leave.

The caretaker turned his attention back to the graveyard; unerringly, he made his way to a certain grave, by no means the largest or most elaborate.

He stood in front of it, and just gazed at it for a while.

Its surface was disturbed ever so slightly.

He leveled the surface with his staff.

He spoke, his voice a barely audible whisper.

"You leave that boy alone, you hear?"

He turned his eyes to the path along which the boy had left.

"He's not ready for you yet."

Turning his attention back to his task, he continued,

"When its time, he'll come looking for you himself."

"But for now, its time to rest."

He stood there for some time, looking at the ground, lost in thought.

Grasping his staff, the caretaker went on his way.

Rooted In Dreams

2005-08-26T01:52:00.000+05:00

The light is blinding.

My sightless eye stares into a stray beam of sunlight.

The tree holds me close; nestled in its mesh of branches my cracked face stares lifelessly ahead.

The dry branches bleed away my will, they’ve bled me dry.

I can’t think anymore;

I can’t feel anything anymore;

I don’t care anymore.

Like some beast, half-starved and skeletal I decay;

Too weak too live, but unable to die.

The tree hides me from the cruel world outside; it keeps me safe in exchange for my life’s blood.

I consider it a perfectly equitable arrangement.

Mindless, dreamless, thoughtless…

Safe from truth, choice, failure, success; in this pit of decay peace finds me.

I drift in my perpetual mindless daydream…

Reality? Who needs it.

Let me daydream for a little bit longer.

A butterfly lands on my dry cracked open lips.

I jerk with a cough and gasp for air.

The branches slowly pull me close;

The leaves whisper me back to sleep.

Yes, I think I’ll daydream for just a little bit longer.

Days In Black II

2005-08-23T01:50:00.000+05:00

I woke with a start under a night-filled sky. The sun had not found me yet.

I had best get a good start, I thought. Hurriedly I set off towards the Hills of Yesterday, across those fields where Sleep chased down unwary travelers.

I arrived at the bottom of the Hill just as daylight bled through the dusty horizon. There sat a brave man who told me the City of Glass was expecting me; apparently, it had a few secrets of its own to share.

Taking in a deep breath, I set off for the City of Glass, but the hours were not my allies today. Through a brooding day I journeyed without rest, till the sun had little light left to share.

Full of worry, I hurried down to the end of that long road just to catch those last few rays of the mourning sun.

Under amber skies laced with wisps of velvet clouds, a pinch of the early stardust glittered down from the violet heavens.

I held the sunrays close and helplessly watched them die in my arms.

There in the Barren Plains I stood empty-handed as an unforgiving horizon watched on impassively. The horizon and I shared a challenging stare for the briefest moment, but I stole my gaze and turned my back on it in tired resignation.

Looking for shelter late into dusk, I lay my head down to rest under the Tree of Sorrows.

Taking stock of its uninvited visitor, the Tree denied offering me its most generous gift.

The gift of my regret was denied to me.

I told the Tree that, if it may be allowed, its gift was one that I would graciously accept; if only I could hold that Smile just once more.

But the Tree had nothing to offer me.

Seeing this, the Soft Grass offered me its modest comfort even as the Night Flowers judged the proceedings quietly.

The Dreamless Night was not a gracious host to me, and dawn awoke from its silent reverie to find me making ready to depart. The Night Flowers wished me farewell in their own colorless fashion.

The City of Glass was lifeless, as always. But those Sapphire Towers told me my reasons had long since fled this place. There was nothing for me there.

Silently I combed the crystal streets, gathering up the stray shards of cold Crimson; and set off once more on the road away.

Long was the journey back; many a thought I had believed lost forever fleetingly ruffled my hair, but they meant little to me now.

The road had never seemed longer.

Under jaded twilight, I found Home waiting patiently where I had left it, watching the road.

We greeted each other like old friends so often do, and under its trusted roof I took off my weathered mask.

And there I let merciful sleep overwhelm me, knowing the treacherous Sun would not chase me here.

Farewell To Dreams

2005-08-21T01:42:00.000+05:00

It had been a long day.

Tired, I sat down to rest under a shady tree.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the bark; it was a quiet day.

Soon enough, a familiar fragrance drifted in the air. I muttered a curse under my breath.

“Will my thoughts never be free of your profane influence, woman?” I sighed.

I opened my eyes.

A young woman stood there watching me. She was simply beautiful, her angelic face full of compassion, and her deep crystal eyes filled with kindness.

She wore long flowing white robes, her rich hair hung carelessly over her delicate shoulders.

The very picture of serenity.

I gave her a withering look, and stood up. I gathered up my things so I could be on my way.

“For the last time: leave me alone.” I growled.

She smiled at me; a patronizing smile, like the way a mother would smile to pacify an angry child.

“Why do you hate me?” she asked in her soothing sonorous voice.

“Don’t pretend; haven’t you done enough?”

Without looking at her, I set off down the road.

She followed.

There was a time when she was the only thing that kept me sane. I’d visit her often, and her small comfort was all I would crave. But that was a long time ago.

“Why are you still here?” I asked out loud.

“You should know…you created me, after all” she answered gaily.

I turned around to face her; she was picking flowers from the ground.

“You lied to me, you always lied to me!” I calmed myself down.
”But what else could you do? You’re nothing but lies given form.”

“Don’t blame me for your frailties.” she said sweetly, admiring the flowers.

I turned my back on her. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? All I want is a few moments of peace. Is that too much to ask?”

My face hardened.

“I’m better off without you. I won’t be sucked into your delusions anymore; you’ve already caused me enough pain.”

I closed my eyes.

“Heed me, you cruel heartless wraith; if you dare cross paths with me again…”

I couldn’t even finish the threat.

She looked at me with those deep crystal eyes.

“You're the one who keeps me alive; after all...despite all you've seen, all you've been through...I’m still here. Why?"

She smiled that patronizing smile again.

Her soft voice was as smooth as silk.

“You can't bear to let me go, can you? ....in all your loneliness, I’m all you have left.”

Those clear eyes searched my own.

“Then again, I could be wrong. In which case, shall we be taking my life today?”

I could’ve sworn there was a hint of mockery in her voice.

My face darkened dangerously.

“Tread carefully, Dreams. Don’t underestimate me; your treacherous half-sister Hope made the same mistake.”

She was completely unfazed.

“Drop the pretense.” She said.

She held out her hand.

"Don't abandon me now. You know you need me. Come, take my hand."

That damn patronizing tone again.

“I’m all you have left.”

I don’t know what happened to me. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, or maybe I was just so sick of it all.

Whatever the reason, something inside me just snapped.

I lunged at her and wrapped those heavy spiked chains around her delicate neck.

Snarling, I pulled as hard as I could.

I growled “I will not be manipulated, bitch!!”

My own hands bled as the flesh was shredded from them, the spikes biting deep, but I was oblivious to the pain as I pulled with all my might.

She gasped and clawed weakly at the chains.

“LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE!!!!” I thundered.

That was the last coherent thought I had before my rage engulfed me.

When I came to, she was slumped lifelessly, her neck nothing more than a mangled mess of flesh. The skin of my hands had been shredded beyond recognition. The chain dripped with our blood.

I recoiled in horror, and let go of the chains. I stumbled backwards and tripped over myself.

What had I done?

I just sat dumbly on the ground, for how long, I don’t remember.

The pain from my hands jarred me from my daze.

“I killed her?” I moaned weakly.

I stared at my bloody torn hands.

I braced myself and expected guilt and remorse to wash over me, overwhelm me.

To drown me.

But they never came.

Instead, all I felt was a strange light-headedness… as if some great burden had been lifted off my shoulders.

A smile came to my lips.

“I killed her.”

A chuckle found its way out of my throat.

“I killed her!” I grinned.

Suddenly, ferociously wild-eyed, I dashed over to her and grabbed her head roughly by her lustrous dark blood streaked hair.

I stared intensely into her lifeless eyes, those beautiful crystal eyes that I hated so much; I grinned savagely and I laughed.

...and laughed and laughed and laughed...

Days In Black

2005-08-13T01:30:00.000+05:00

Frantically, I dug through the pile of Yellow Dry Leaves, but my efforts were fruitless.

I sat on the tombstone clutching my chest; the Thief had long stolen the Red Leaf of Autumn. The hollow dead trees cried out for its return; they blamed my weak arm for the loss.

I did not bother to pacify them. Cursing, I ran out of the Shady Place of Rest in search of what was lost. The Woods were deep, and it was not kind to strangers.

A day and a half I searched, and the only clue that crossed my path was a Glowing White Pearl.

The imposing trees cleared me a path, and led me to the Vast Desert beyond. Under velvet skies, I overheard the stars whisper forgotten secrets to the dunes, but I had more pressing concerns on my mind.

Fortunately, the night Breeze was an old friend, and it led me to The Waiting Rock. The Rock refused to help, but upon my insistence and the subtle persuasion of the Breeze, it did confide to me the trail of the Thief.

I would have to hurry, Dusk the Liar was seeping away into the horizon.

The Desert was not used to company, and it refused any comfort to its unwanted visitor. I did not blame the Sands for their reluctance; I dreamed the night away beside a soft fire, but Sleep seemed to be busy elsewhere, and did not come to me this night.

Dawn awoke to find me well on my way towards the Noisy Village.

I hated the Noisy Village for its myriad inhabitants were all deaf, dumb and blind, and yet, there was not a moment of peace within its decaying confines.

There in the Shop of Lost Things, I did purchase word of my Thief with the length of Rope that had held me strong.

I was told the Thief had stopped by this very shop, in search of swift transport to the North.

I set off for those Lone Mountains with a pouch of rice and grim resolve; and within a Snail’s week, I had arrived at those white peaks.

Those shimmering passes were stern with my efforts, and the snow too sought to slow my passage.

But eventually I stood at the threshold of the Meadow of Ice, tucked away in its lonely valley.

In the center of the Frost Garden stood, as promised, my elusive Thief, staring lost in thought at its stolen prize.

I asked for the Red Autumn Leaf, whereupon the Thief met my gaze hesitatingly. We stood there in silence, judging each other until the moonlight immersed the Frost Garden in its soft unearthly light.

Once more, I asked for what was mine.

The Thief asked me if I had found the Glowing White Pearl. I didn’t answer.

She looked at me with those distant eyes and apologized; and told me she had no idea I cared so much for one mere leaf.

She asked how cruel was I to come after her all this way, just to take back even so small token.

The Glowing White Pearl lost its luster and turned a deep crimson, before shattering into countless fragments.

She then lifted the Leaf into the windless air, and it drifted down to rest at my feet.

There, she turned into a statue of the clearest ice, frozen forever more.

Encased in her crystal armor she didn’t even wait for my answer. I stood there in regret; as the lightest snow did start to fall from that cruel sky.

At my feet, the Red Leaf slowly faded to a colorless grey.

The silence was deafening.

On the long journey back, I had never felt wearier; even my thoughts were no longer my own.

At last I arrived at the woods and came back to my Shady Place of Rest once more. The hollow dead trees were silent.

I put the Colorless Leaf in an old faded pouch and buried it at the foot of the nameless tombstone.

Sometimes, when I visit the Shady Place, I sit beside the tombstone in silence and that Colorless Leaf flits through my thoughts, though I know that I had long since given up the right to hold it in my hands.