Logbook

As the memories fade over the years, they revisit him in his dreams. In one such instance, he recalls her face and voice.

"Lucretia," he says, handing her a skewer, "try this."

"What is it?" she asks, taking it. She's young—far younger in appearance than the first and last times they met.

( Read more... )

Hey, you. How much longer are you going to do this?

. . .

Ignoring me now? Hah! That's just what a coward does.


"̷̫̦̩̗͛̈́̒͜Ŝ̴̜̦̟̐͆́̕͜͠ĭ̷̡̻̫̭̠̯̔̄̃̅͛̎ẻ̸̢̺͎̤̹͈̥̳̞̥̘̩̃̍̈͛͋͌͝͝͝g̵̨̢̤̤̬͖̥̠̝̼͕͊͛̍́̓̆́̒͘h̷̙͔͇̰̗̯͛ͅa̶̛̦͑̊̌͊̍̈́̔̿ṛ̴̬͙̭̀̆̾̑͋͠͝t̶͍̫̮̘͕͍̣̔̿̓͆͆̉̆͠͝͠?̷̣̄̔̌͗̏̈́́̚͜͠"̵̗̦͈̄̄̅̌̈́̍̈͛̐͌͝


"Keeper?"

( Read more... )

Apparently, I wrote these last year and forgot that I had until I stumbled across them just now. Wild. So I'll post them without editing for posterity.

He writes about Neo-Kounat, the resurrected kingdom of magic founded by the sole survivor of the original. He writes about the stories of magic from a limited point of view, but never inserts himself. Neo-Kounat prospered longer than its father.

( Read more... )

Before.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see Elesis giving you a skeptical look. Little escapes her notice, but even fewer skirts by yours. Your demeanor has shifted since the moment of your timeless return, and she's the first—perhaps even the only one—to have noticed.

( Read more... )