Skaargoroth
May 21st, 2009, 07:29 AM
While I still pondered on what to write for this Forum I stumbled an old document on my external HDD, iOmega. In it I found some old writings I wanted to post, yet only uploaded a selective few I did. I looked them through, long and hard and I discovered that I lacked the proper imagination, the lack of description of characters in those stories and seeing that it was written back in '04, I decided to write this story in order to both re-polish my writing skills and see what I have learned during the Creative Writing course I am currently taking.
Enjoy.
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If the Forgotten Gods had no need for sleep, then Izdiharlia Dhaakra followed. Sometimes she would find herself wandering in the vast and empty halls of her grand palace within her memories when she nodded in a short slumber or when her body required and demanded rest. It was an elaborated series of rooms and with no sets or beginnings of being endless. Each time she opened those closed doors she would notice that they are of the same shape and size, only artifacts appearing as paintings, vases and closed books on shelves that made some difference. Each represented a memory within her; both wanted and unwanted.
There were also those rooms that were colored black and dark, being lost without a source of light and their wide windows forever shut. It was here the carpeting was splashed with blood and the walls smeared with gore as both paintings and furniture were hacked and carved, mostly burned by the small bonfire in the middle; It smelled hatred. These black rooms were created from her younger years, her years as the grim youngling who tried so boldly to corrupt last survivors of the White Remnants from within only to fail and fled from the reach of City of D and the Lionheart Alliance. She is still grim, she admits, even if her appearance did not resemble from what people remember her from the lower streets of the city itself. Izdiharlia remembers her strive for survival was but a daily routine. It was in fact in those nightmarish rooms she found more suited for her tastes than being at the other rooms. Those rooms were made of simple wood and stone and it smelled like a mystical forest, its colors were too natural and earthy for someone like her to suit in. But the largest of them was an armory with a rather large verity of weapons in all shapes and sizes. By the room’s corner was the wooden wall already been hacked with brute force and two simple long bladed swords rested against it. There were no sign on who had been violent enough to hack the wall apart from the verity of swords being there. Izdiharlia left the room and closed the doors behind her. She closed her eyes, concentrating her grip of her mind. For every once in a while, she would feel a shadow lurking around the corners but would rather disappear each time she would turn to catch its sight. It was childish Izdiharlia thought and had felt as it posed no threat to her own or the safety of her sanity only the shadow posed as a vestige of a malformed mind of a child.
Izdiharlia concentrated on tracking it down and the more she twitched in annoyance of childish giggles and laughter which echoed the empty hallways. At the brink of her cracking sanity, Izdiharlia quickly drew her sword and swung a horizontal slash. The blood sprayed its full red color both on the wall and on herself. She lowered her bloody sword and looked down on the pool of blood before her with a blank stare, without emotion. The red pool turned black started to move around but it looked like more of a fight within.
- “Still alive, I see.” She finally said a word.
The pool turned into a shadow began to struggle more in which it was not surprise in Izdiharlia’s eyes. Without taking a closer look on the shadow’s newly selected form, she rose her eyebrow; she had not seen this form for months, years even. Izdiharlia even thought that the shadow had faded away into nothing, into the darkest depths of her mind the first time she saw it. Now the deformed shadow stood in front of the gap, it took the form of a young girl with long hair, black and wild and dark blue eyes that didn't show any reflection to the lights of the hallway. The girl stared at Izdiharlia without any words, and Izdiharlia stared back.
- “Its my body.” The girl frowned.
- “So it is.” Izdiharlia agreed. “But it is also not polite to keep secrets from your guests.”
- “You are not a guest!” The girl objected. “I didn’t invite you! You just came in as it was your rightful place!”
Izdiharlia couldn’t help but smirk at the rage of the girl, “Nevertheless, I am here.”
- “You could always go away.” The girl suggested in a simple way that children were proposing to the most obvious solution to any problem they faced.
- “And you would go back to being that shapeless thing on the verge of death?” Izdiharlia pointed out. “The current arrangement benefits both of us.”
The child didn’t say a word and Izdiharlia was also silent for a while.
- “Let me see what you have built.”
- “I don’t want to.”
- “You do not posses the strength to deny me, little one.”
- “No.” The child agreed by turning her head away. “I just don’t want to.”
Izdiharlia paid the comment no heed or attention as she veered around the child and opened the double doors of the newly constructed room in the memory lane.
At first she couldn’t see anything at all. Even the space of a foot ahead of her was covered completely in a ink-colored darkness. Moving forward Izdiharlia heard the sounds of ocean waves crashing against on a beach and felt how her heels sink into the sand. It was a beach and a vast ocean before her, blending a night sky that unfolded around and before her. Izdiharlia began to wonder if it was just a piece of the child’s imitation or a dream instead of a real memory. Without a warning, six shadowy figures appeared out of the darkness. Izdiharlia realized that they were obscure shadows and with a guess, it was the child’s doing. The child was deliberately trying to hide those memories that had been good, and she managed to succeed without failure. Izdiharlia frowned down at the child but she paid her no attention.
In her annoyance, Izdiharlia rose her hand and snapped her finger. It lifted the shadows that the girl had cast over the figures. Izdiharlia instantly recognized the four of them and was not surprised at all. It was natural for the child to be drawn to her parents and her two twin brothers. The beach and the vast ocean was a mere dream, an escape from where the girl belonged even if she had never seen a place like this before. Izdiharlia knew she hated that place and so did the child.
- “You remember them.” There was a note of disbelief in Izdiharlia’s tone. “Even if they abandoned you, even if they cursed you, casting you down; You still remember them.”
- “I will not let you hurt them.” The child lift her chin in defiance and with tears in her eyes. “I will protect them.”
Izdiharlia stared down on the child; drawing out her bloody sword, the stars of the night sky vanished and the sea turned black, a bloody dusk enlightened the black night.
- “Was it not you who called upon me?” Izdiharlia asked. “Was it not you that you wanted them dead?”
- “No!” The child cried but sat down, sulking in defeat. “I… I couldn’t…”
Izdiharlia took a grip of the child’s hair before pressed down against the sand with her own weight. In fear the child looked down on the edge of the sword Izdiharlia held.
- “You cried in my name and you abandoned everything.” Izdiharlia coldly stated. “It was by your hand that you finished them and it was you alone that threw these memories away.”
- “You liar! I would never do such a thing!” The child cried.
- “Do you know what is your flaw, little girl?” Izdiharlia licked her lips before she grinned. “You care too much.”
Pressing the sword further down, Izdiharlia felt how the blood sprayed once more.
Her humanity was lost forever.
Enjoy.
-----------------------------------
If the Forgotten Gods had no need for sleep, then Izdiharlia Dhaakra followed. Sometimes she would find herself wandering in the vast and empty halls of her grand palace within her memories when she nodded in a short slumber or when her body required and demanded rest. It was an elaborated series of rooms and with no sets or beginnings of being endless. Each time she opened those closed doors she would notice that they are of the same shape and size, only artifacts appearing as paintings, vases and closed books on shelves that made some difference. Each represented a memory within her; both wanted and unwanted.
There were also those rooms that were colored black and dark, being lost without a source of light and their wide windows forever shut. It was here the carpeting was splashed with blood and the walls smeared with gore as both paintings and furniture were hacked and carved, mostly burned by the small bonfire in the middle; It smelled hatred. These black rooms were created from her younger years, her years as the grim youngling who tried so boldly to corrupt last survivors of the White Remnants from within only to fail and fled from the reach of City of D and the Lionheart Alliance. She is still grim, she admits, even if her appearance did not resemble from what people remember her from the lower streets of the city itself. Izdiharlia remembers her strive for survival was but a daily routine. It was in fact in those nightmarish rooms she found more suited for her tastes than being at the other rooms. Those rooms were made of simple wood and stone and it smelled like a mystical forest, its colors were too natural and earthy for someone like her to suit in. But the largest of them was an armory with a rather large verity of weapons in all shapes and sizes. By the room’s corner was the wooden wall already been hacked with brute force and two simple long bladed swords rested against it. There were no sign on who had been violent enough to hack the wall apart from the verity of swords being there. Izdiharlia left the room and closed the doors behind her. She closed her eyes, concentrating her grip of her mind. For every once in a while, she would feel a shadow lurking around the corners but would rather disappear each time she would turn to catch its sight. It was childish Izdiharlia thought and had felt as it posed no threat to her own or the safety of her sanity only the shadow posed as a vestige of a malformed mind of a child.
Izdiharlia concentrated on tracking it down and the more she twitched in annoyance of childish giggles and laughter which echoed the empty hallways. At the brink of her cracking sanity, Izdiharlia quickly drew her sword and swung a horizontal slash. The blood sprayed its full red color both on the wall and on herself. She lowered her bloody sword and looked down on the pool of blood before her with a blank stare, without emotion. The red pool turned black started to move around but it looked like more of a fight within.
- “Still alive, I see.” She finally said a word.
The pool turned into a shadow began to struggle more in which it was not surprise in Izdiharlia’s eyes. Without taking a closer look on the shadow’s newly selected form, she rose her eyebrow; she had not seen this form for months, years even. Izdiharlia even thought that the shadow had faded away into nothing, into the darkest depths of her mind the first time she saw it. Now the deformed shadow stood in front of the gap, it took the form of a young girl with long hair, black and wild and dark blue eyes that didn't show any reflection to the lights of the hallway. The girl stared at Izdiharlia without any words, and Izdiharlia stared back.
- “Its my body.” The girl frowned.
- “So it is.” Izdiharlia agreed. “But it is also not polite to keep secrets from your guests.”
- “You are not a guest!” The girl objected. “I didn’t invite you! You just came in as it was your rightful place!”
Izdiharlia couldn’t help but smirk at the rage of the girl, “Nevertheless, I am here.”
- “You could always go away.” The girl suggested in a simple way that children were proposing to the most obvious solution to any problem they faced.
- “And you would go back to being that shapeless thing on the verge of death?” Izdiharlia pointed out. “The current arrangement benefits both of us.”
The child didn’t say a word and Izdiharlia was also silent for a while.
- “Let me see what you have built.”
- “I don’t want to.”
- “You do not posses the strength to deny me, little one.”
- “No.” The child agreed by turning her head away. “I just don’t want to.”
Izdiharlia paid the comment no heed or attention as she veered around the child and opened the double doors of the newly constructed room in the memory lane.
At first she couldn’t see anything at all. Even the space of a foot ahead of her was covered completely in a ink-colored darkness. Moving forward Izdiharlia heard the sounds of ocean waves crashing against on a beach and felt how her heels sink into the sand. It was a beach and a vast ocean before her, blending a night sky that unfolded around and before her. Izdiharlia began to wonder if it was just a piece of the child’s imitation or a dream instead of a real memory. Without a warning, six shadowy figures appeared out of the darkness. Izdiharlia realized that they were obscure shadows and with a guess, it was the child’s doing. The child was deliberately trying to hide those memories that had been good, and she managed to succeed without failure. Izdiharlia frowned down at the child but she paid her no attention.
In her annoyance, Izdiharlia rose her hand and snapped her finger. It lifted the shadows that the girl had cast over the figures. Izdiharlia instantly recognized the four of them and was not surprised at all. It was natural for the child to be drawn to her parents and her two twin brothers. The beach and the vast ocean was a mere dream, an escape from where the girl belonged even if she had never seen a place like this before. Izdiharlia knew she hated that place and so did the child.
- “You remember them.” There was a note of disbelief in Izdiharlia’s tone. “Even if they abandoned you, even if they cursed you, casting you down; You still remember them.”
- “I will not let you hurt them.” The child lift her chin in defiance and with tears in her eyes. “I will protect them.”
Izdiharlia stared down on the child; drawing out her bloody sword, the stars of the night sky vanished and the sea turned black, a bloody dusk enlightened the black night.
- “Was it not you who called upon me?” Izdiharlia asked. “Was it not you that you wanted them dead?”
- “No!” The child cried but sat down, sulking in defeat. “I… I couldn’t…”
Izdiharlia took a grip of the child’s hair before pressed down against the sand with her own weight. In fear the child looked down on the edge of the sword Izdiharlia held.
- “You cried in my name and you abandoned everything.” Izdiharlia coldly stated. “It was by your hand that you finished them and it was you alone that threw these memories away.”
- “You liar! I would never do such a thing!” The child cried.
- “Do you know what is your flaw, little girl?” Izdiharlia licked her lips before she grinned. “You care too much.”
Pressing the sword further down, Izdiharlia felt how the blood sprayed once more.
Her humanity was lost forever.