Dear Hope of Mankind,
I realized that I have failed to mention the premise of these letters in my last message. It has recently come to my attention that the Great Eclipse, the air in the center of our world that blesses us with Life and Magic, is being rapidly drained. If the Great Eclipse runs dry then our bodies will become nothing more than hollow shells. This is obviously an extreme concern, is it not? And yet the townsfolk here mull about on with their business. Fools!
And so today, I depart, journeying into the Far North in aspiration of someone who will heed my profound and generous knowledge. And yes, I did leave the people of my small, rugged town with some instructions should they ever decide to read them. More than likely they will be used hastily in the application of a particularly moist buttocks. Huh! If nothing else, someone will be comfortably clean while their bodies get hollowed out. Nothing like a clean buttock, I always say!
I have decided to bring only the minimal amount of supplies that are necessary for my journey. Food, water, clothes, and the five essential Elemental Tomes. Helpful in making fires, or warding off danger in a tight spot. My sky blues Mage robes have been cleaned, their blood red cuffs shining nicely, and I have finally worn in my traveling boots. But there is something that concerns me greatly. During the two Epicenters of the day--noon and midnight--my ears ring with a violent piercing cry that seems to fluctuate on a magical field. Perhaps this is a surge within the Great Eclipse? Or perhaps I need to stop eating gravied lamb during the day. I'm going to go with the latter.
And so I press forward with a high spirit, and--for once--an empty stomach praying that everything goes my way (because the Sages know it never does)! For now then, I bid you adieu, and hope for a brighter tomorrow.
*~--Terris Rolland the Bright--~*
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
The Terris Letters-- Letter #1
Dear Hope of Mankind,
In a dehumanizing society full of grief and constant bickering, I often found the outside world rather...odd. It irked me to almost no end that one could find themselves slowly disintegrating into a vast sea of nothingness simply due to their lack of moral faith. That isn't to say that it was nonexistent, but rather that it was...how shall I say it? Neglected. But that's getting off the point. My name is Terris. And yes, I do tend to ramble. But, contrary to popular belief--popular belief being the belief of the rest of my no-good, ill-educated town--I am NOT a Wizard, or a Sorcerer. That being said, there is something you should know about me. I am a Mage. And yes, Mages are different.
Yes, I do find that most of my idle time is spent bent over a dusty tome or history, but what I find rather interesting is the fact that no one else in my dismal town does the same. They meander throughout their lives plowing the fields and sowing the seeds, giving no second glance to a young twenty-something or other magic-user with his face stuffed between the pages of a rotting book. That suits me just fine. I just hope that sooner or later they finally take heed to my pestering them about listening to the rantings of a wizened scholar. Not that they will.
But here I go off rambling again. My purpose in sending you this letter is that it may find its way into the hands of someone who has half a wit about them! To be put as frankly as possible...don't be a fool. Listen to me and everything will work out. I promise. Really.
*~--Terris Rolland the Bright--~*
In a dehumanizing society full of grief and constant bickering, I often found the outside world rather...odd. It irked me to almost no end that one could find themselves slowly disintegrating into a vast sea of nothingness simply due to their lack of moral faith. That isn't to say that it was nonexistent, but rather that it was...how shall I say it? Neglected. But that's getting off the point. My name is Terris. And yes, I do tend to ramble. But, contrary to popular belief--popular belief being the belief of the rest of my no-good, ill-educated town--I am NOT a Wizard, or a Sorcerer. That being said, there is something you should know about me. I am a Mage. And yes, Mages are different.
Yes, I do find that most of my idle time is spent bent over a dusty tome or history, but what I find rather interesting is the fact that no one else in my dismal town does the same. They meander throughout their lives plowing the fields and sowing the seeds, giving no second glance to a young twenty-something or other magic-user with his face stuffed between the pages of a rotting book. That suits me just fine. I just hope that sooner or later they finally take heed to my pestering them about listening to the rantings of a wizened scholar. Not that they will.
But here I go off rambling again. My purpose in sending you this letter is that it may find its way into the hands of someone who has half a wit about them! To be put as frankly as possible...don't be a fool. Listen to me and everything will work out. I promise. Really.
*~--Terris Rolland the Bright--~*
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Lantern
Here's a poem that I wrote yesterday. I guess it can be considered slam, but I HATE slam, so forget that. Anyway, it's probably one of the shortest things that I've written, but I like it a lot. Enjoy.
Lantern
By Adam Gonzales
And so what if a merciless vapor encircles its fingers around me?
Your fingers are bright and can tear through the night and on that I am counting
An angel's rapport can give nothing more than being a counter
And so for you I will wait, a more timelier date, my dear yellow lantern
For though courage I lack, it's patience I have and your voice will keep me
Afloat and aloft, a beautiful face, so pristine and lovely
Lantern
By Adam Gonzales
And so what if a merciless vapor encircles its fingers around me?
Your fingers are bright and can tear through the night and on that I am counting
An angel's rapport can give nothing more than being a counter
And so for you I will wait, a more timelier date, my dear yellow lantern
For though courage I lack, it's patience I have and your voice will keep me
Afloat and aloft, a beautiful face, so pristine and lovely
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