Dragon Rider: Twigleg's StoryAfter many, many years of living in a castle on a top of a mountain, a large brute of a dragon, who had twelve servants, called that castle their home. But this story is not about the fierce, golden dragon. Instead, it is about one of the servants. A homunculus, a small manikin, with spindly limbs, named Twigleg, who was sitting on the ground with his eight brothers in their own room that they each shared, but only had the cold, stoned ground for comfort. The nine of them were silent as they were mourning for their four brothers, who were just eaten by their master.
"I can't believe it," one of them muttered, who was sitting across from Twigleg. They all had red hair and crimson eyes, and wore tailcoats with pointed boots, but you could tell some of them apart. This one was Crimson, who had hair that was the darkest red out of all of them.
"We just have to pay more attention next time," Nidus, the one who kept the other brothers in order and was one of the most sensible. His crimson ha
Behind the VeilWith the path of rose petals
scattered down the hall,
a young bride fallows
the path to holy matrimony.
Behind her veil
lays a smile of love
as she meets the groom
of her dreams.
Her steps make not
a sound as the
Wedding March plays
with the tears of joy fall.
When white turns black
and wedding becomes a funeral
as her soundless steps
approach the fallen love.
Behind her veil,
lays a face of heartache
with tears running down
like rain during Winter.
The GraveyardThe moon was in a crescent as the night sky was littered with grey clouds. There was a light chill in the air as Fall was coming to an end when my brother, who was nineteen and two years older than me, and I were heading to a graveyard near the outskirts of town. "So I heard that this graveyard was haunted," he said with a grin as his long blonde hair was gently blowing in the breeze.
"Yes, so I've heard," I muttered, annoyed by his failure of trying to scare me as I zipped up my black jacket to my neck, fighting the night's cold. We made a deal that if he dragged me to some haunted place and I won't get scared, he would stop playing his stupid pranks on me and if I did get scared, well, the torment would not end until he would move out.
Then the Gothic black fence came to our view.
Of course. Black fences of the Gothic style. How charming. I was never fond of cemeteries and here I am being dragged by my brother to a supposedly haunted graveyard. Why did I agree to this?
Castle of OursHe promised me heaven,
he promised me hell.
My dearest love,
who treated me well.
My dearest love,
who treated me well,
gave me his heart
as well as his soul.
We lived happy
in this castle of ours,
where there was no
care in the world.
Until one night,
my sweet beloved
left this castle of ours
and took along my heart.
I still wait for
my dearest love,
who treated me well
in this castle of ours.
Worth Fighting For: Ch 10The orange rays of the setting sun was beaming over the grassy hills as the numb woman was standing at her window, dressed in her white wedding dress, but felt that she was dressed in black. Her father was not here to give her away, nor was she getting married to the man she loved. The wedding was in a hour, and her heart had no longer had a beat to it. She clenched the dagger in her hands that once belonged to her mother. The sun was beginning to set forever.
A tear ran down Arcane's cheek as raised her head and looked at the wooden ceiling. She'll meet Ryvren again in the next life. Her hand slowly raised the dagger over her chest and closed her eyes.
Just was she was about to deliver the blow, an arm with armor wrapped around her waist tightly and tore the dagger from her hand, making her eyes spring open in rage and heartache. "Let me go!" She screamed. "I'm not marrying that bastard of a lord!"
The dagger fell with a clatter and she continued to fight the soldier. "I'd rather die!
Worth Fighting For: Ch 9Five days had past since Ryvren had left Korth on the black horse, Zeth, that belonged to the town's alchemist. The sun was setting when the tired elf returned to the familiar walls of Eogan, but the joy was short lived when he found black and purple flags waving in the gentle breeze.
Ryvren placed the horse away from the walls and kept a low profile when he got to the stables that was broken and rundown. He knew this was not the same Eogan he left and had to be swift about getting inside. The walls were too high and it would be a suicide mission to walk right through the gates.
The front gates then began to open.
The elf quickly hid inside the home of the horseman and peeked from the broken windows to watch the two guards in black armour walk out, then close the gates behind. He knew exactly how to get in: Don his disgiuse. He spotted the tallest one on the right and watched them spilt ways around the city's walls. He knew looked around the home that looked like a fight had broke out
Worth Fighting For ch 8It was moments after Arcane returned to her home that was under new rule. Her father was dead, everyone of the guards was dead, and only some shopkeeps remained, but scarred and terrified. The young woman went to her room to see if anything had changed since it was the only place she could go without being watched. When she opened the door, she took a deep sigh.
Her things and dresses were thrown everywhere and bed was in tears as if someone just wanted to create chaos. The young woman fought the tears and knew she had to be strong. Her home needed her.
The sound of footsteps nearing her, made her turn around and found a guard in the usual black armour, standing at her doorway. "My Lord wanted me to bring news of your wedding."
"Wedding?" She asked softly, confused.
"Of course. He wants to marry you in five days aproximately."
Anger burned in her heart. "I'll never marry him. Do you hear me? Never!"
She could feel the guard's smirk under his black helmet. "He knew you would say that. H