A Dark Elf's Struggle

There lies strength within your shimmering steel,

 in my left hand lies 'Twinkle', forged by the elves.  

Gifted unto me, this shadowed and outcast of my race,

 Malchor's blade answers to my will, of the stars and the moon.

Tightly my hand grips upon the blade in my right,

 Ingeloakastimizilian, will notice your departure.

The white wyrm, felled by Wulfgar, and his hammer,

 your hoard on the other hand gave me Icingdeath to bare.

Your guidance has led my hand to many a victory,

 yet have found me no piece from the rage that echoes,

You have not staved the fear that lay deep within,

 these dangers that I may bring my true friends.

Yet, deep within my soul another echo has formed,

 piercing this darkness and opening this closed heart.

If only we could accept what she has tried to show,

 put aside the ranger, this killers instinct....

  I could welcome her love...Catti-brie would accept mine.

Or will the drow in me consume and swallow me,

 destroying everything I have tried to move past.

With bitter temptation, and drive I move onwards,

 with trusted companions I continue on my path.

--------------------------------------------------------------- 

("Every step of my journey out of Menzobarranzan

was guided by my inner map of right and wrong,

of community and selflessness.") 

- Drizzt Do'Urden - The Hunter Blade Trilogy Book II

(I wrote this a while ago as a homage to the dark elf

Drizzt, as he was my favorite fantasy character.  I 

hope you enjoy.)

Tags: Drizzt fantasy elves stars moon race blade wulfgar path drow journey dark p

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In Lost Steps

Was there ever an idleness to show?

 In this housed frame, a solitary, lonely soul.

To wash away the timeless days before

 Or to look upon the broken memories we adore.

Visions they haunt, the dead that have gone

 Whispering into the nether, cries of the forlorn.

We follow in their tracks, careful to tread,

  with dignified presence we bare their parting breath.

Was there ever a feeling of imprisonment?

 As you walked upon the broken road.

From above the skies walk their silent march.

 Can we the servants below, ever folow in  your step?

"Oh, quiet reprieve of death,

  light does not breach your house,

   nor does the archangel's bellow sound,

     only to leave the soul, wandering and alone."

Tags: Lost soul lonely solitary timeless days memories broken cries dead haunt fo

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Fate does not Die!  This is our planet...

              ...we've chosen...

       ...not to hear her cries.

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                                                                            Chapter 2

                                                                          Versie Wierson

                                                                                     I

Time passed.  Elaine had no idea how much time had gone by. The orangey gleam, that was coming up over the horizon, told her that she had fallen asleep.  The blaring sound of a truckers horn, had awoken her.  She was glad that she had slept.  Being awake had been a torture, after all time seemed so infinitesimal.  Each minute seemed to drag out.  She looked down to her right hand where the wooden box was still held firmly in her grip.  She felt a smile start to curve again… and soon let it pass, her mother would see it as a sign of victory.  

See, Elaine.  That didn’t take long now did it?  You will make new friends, and see new people.  This will enrich your life and help you grow as an individual.  She could hear her mothers words inside her head, mockingly speaking, in that stern tone of assuredness.  

“We are almost there, honey.  How did you sleep?”  Her voice was soft, smoothly laced with a newfound caring.  

“I slept.  That should be enough of an answer.”  Elaine’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, if one hadn’t seen that she was wearing a thin jacket, they would’ve thought she was in a straitjacket.  After all that was how she felt inside.  Her mother only let out a small sigh.

“How long are you going to stay mad at me this time, Elaine?”  Her voice did waiver, and it still held the firm tone.  Her green eyes peered out the corners of her glassed towards Elaine.  She waited.  

“Well…how long was I mad the last time we did this?“ Elaine said no more; she didn’t have to.  That was enough to bring this conversation to a finality.  

Her mothers hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.  She hated it when Elaine was like this.  More so, she hated when she wasn’t in full control of a conversation.  With the current situation, she really had no ground to stand on, and Elaine had every right to be mad.  A half hour passed before they had reached their exit.  Not a word had been exchanged between them.  Elaine’s head had been reclined into the window, staring up at the sky.  The blinking green light of the toll-booth had snapped Elaine out of her daze.  As they passed through the booth, Elaine could see the small town in the distance.  

Her mother had offered to stop and get food, and Elaine had tried to eat.  Her eyes kept drifting back to the small wooden box, and the small note that lay within.  She couldn’t stop herself from seeing Charlie‘s look of hurt.  The pain would cause her to put the burger back down into the paper wrapper it came in.  Her fingers tracing along the box.  Following the edges with the tips of her fingers.  She missed him.  She missed him a lot.  When her mother had gone out for a smoke, she would open the box again.  She would hold the key in her hand, staring at the vine-like image that encircled the surface.  When her mother came back inside the burger joint, aptly called, burger heaven.  Elaine’s eyes turned up to the clock that hung on the wall.  They had been trying to kill time really.  Their appointment had not been for a few hours yet.  An appointment her mother had not really opened up and told her about.  Just that it involved a family member.  

                                                                                      II

It had been almost 11:00AM, before they pulled up in front of a series of business offices.  Elaine smiled a little as she watched her mother trying to find change for the meter.  Her mother had always carried a bag that was entirely to big, and was almost always packed full with nonsense.  The building that they were going to was rather old looking.  From the outer appearance, she thought this had to have been the oldest on the block.  When they had reached the steps, there was a black sign hung crooked, on the brick wall, just to the right of the front door.  The faded letters of Pierce & Nathaniel, crept through the years of age.  When her mother had opened the door, a bell clanged shakily, from just above the door.

Pierce & Nathaniel, huh?  Sounds like a law firm.  So what have you gotten yourself into now I wonder? This place certainly isn’t the most welcoming now is it?  And maybe you know already don’t you.  

“Elaine,” the voice came from a few feet ahead of her.  Her mother waved her hand forward, in a snap out of it and get in here, kind of way.  She stepped in slowly, letting the door close behind and the bell sound once more.    

The lady at the desk was running a nail file back and forth, her eyes never met theirs.  A pair of thin wire frame glasses slanted down towards the tip of her nose.  Her mother had tapped the counter a few times.  The lady looked up momentarily from her nail filing.  Her finger pointing to a pair of couch’s that were to the left of the counter.  Elaine narrowed her eyes at the lady, who didn’t notice, as she had already gone back to her nail file.  The couch’s were uncomfortable, and a small piece of wire had made itself known a few times, by poking at her right buttock.  After nearly fifteen minutes had passed, she noticed her mother getting fidgety.

“Ma’am, her mother had said in a soft tone.”  The lady ignored her.  The sound of the file scraping across her nails, was like nails on a chalkboard.  Further echoed by the quiet atmosphere of the room.   

“Does Nathaniel know were here?” she inquired with a louder tone.  

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then he knows you’re here, doesn’t he?”  Her eyes never left her little manicure in progress.  

“But you don’t even know our names, so how do you know who we are?”  That confidence had returned, she could hear it in her mothers voice.  She watched her walk towards the counter again.  

“Like it matters, he’ll get to you when he gets to you.”  sharply the woman’s voice came, annoyed at being disturbed.  

“My name is Ms. Orren, and I supposed to have had an appointment with Nathaniel almost a half hour ago.  I demand to know what is going on.”  Her fist hammered down on the counter, if Elaine hadn’t been paying attention, she thought maybe she might have jumped like the lady had.  

“Orr-Orren,” the lady said shakily.  

“Yes, Orren.” her mother bellowed.  

A door opened up the hallway a little ways, and a tall lanky man came out towards the counter.  He rubbed his eyes, before putting a pair of gold rimmed glasses on his face again.  He looked from the secretary to the lady who’s fist was still planted on the counter.  His eyes widened.  

“Ms. Orren, when did you arrive?”  His voice was rough, but held a certain compassion to it.

“We’ve been here for a little over a half hour… your secretary here decided that we weren’t important enough to inform you of our arrival.”  Her mother glared at the woman behind the counter.  The nail file fell out of her hand and clicked when it hit the counter, before falling to the floor.  

“S-Sir, you said that you were busy and to not be disturbed, I, I was only doing what you asked.”  She was quick on the defense, as a child trying desperately to make up for a wrong doing.

“We’ll talk about this later, Cassie.”  His voice cut from the sound of compassion, to the fierce tone of a promise of repercussions. 

“Follow me back to my office please, Ms. Orren.”  He gestured into the office and towards a pair of leather chairs.  â€œPlease, sit.”  He closed the door behind him and came to sit behind the desk.  

“You’ll have to forgive Cassie.  Her attentions may be good… but she lacks a few conversational skills.  Rest assured that she will be disciplined, and that she is only a temporary employee.  With that aside, shall we commence with the will reading?” He looked to them both, his eyes trying to gauge their reactions.  

“Will?” Elaine whispered under her breath.  Her mother had not mentioned a will, and now she wanted to know why.  Who had died?  Why hadn’t she told her about it?  Her eyes went from her mother and back towards the man behind the desk.  

"Yes.  Well I would sure hope something would be done about that rude display.”  Leave it to her mother to not let anything go.  She couldn’t help but find the humor in that now.  

“Please, continue with the will reading, this is already hard enough as it is.”  Her mothers voice had started to crack, and Elaine had never heard her mother cry, let alone get shaken up by anything after her fathers death.  

“This is the ‘Last Will & Testament of Johnathon E. Orren’.”  Elaine’s hand went to her mouth, her eyes started to quiver.  This was her Uncle John.  She looked to her mother, who had pulled a small piece of cloth out of her purse and tried desperately to hide the onset of tears.  As Nathaniel continued to read the proceedings, and the distributions of his estate and properties, she remained silent.  

“To Elaine N. Orren, I leave to you a set of lock boxes, made of elm wood, oak, pine, and red wood.  These are to be presented upon the event of my death.  Along with this message, 

“Elaine, I know this will be hard for you to understand.  After all we  have yet to meet, and I fear if you are reading this, than that time has passed.  I implore you to take care in the boxes I present to you.  â€˜Remember well that there is no reverse point from the entry’… ‘There is taking back, and last but not least, there is only one stone… don’t lose it.’  With all the love I could not offer you in your life, your Uncle, Johnathon E. Orren.”  Rachael looked from her daughter and back to Nathaniel.  

Nathaniel reached down beside his desk to a small safe, and after a few clicks and a digital combination, the door opened.  Carefully he pulled out the four boxes.  Each one in length and width was slightly larger than a regular piece of print paper.  They were each about five inches thick.  He slid each of them forward, and nodded to Elaine slowly.  Her hands shakily reached out for them and pulled them one by one onto her lap.  Her attention was fixated on the wooden boxes.  As he continued to read the rest of the estates, his mother nodded in small choked sobs.  After sliding a piece of paper over and a quick signature on her mothers part, a pair of keys were handed across the table.  

“Ms. Orren, I would like to have a word with you in private.”  Her mother motioned for her to leave, and Elaine didn’t argue, or hesitate.  She carried the boxes in her arms and exited the room.  On her way out, her mother handed her the car keys.  She could see the tears welling at the corner of her eyes.  She didn’t know what to say to her, and just took the keys.  When she had rounded the counter, Cassie was still sitting, but not longer filing her nails.  Instead her eyes followed Elaine until she left the building.  When the door closed behind her and the bell sounded from above, she let out a deep sigh, only to feel a pair of hands push her sideways and onto the sidewalk.  

                                                                                     III

“Watch where you going!”  the voice came from a brown haired boy, who wore faded blue jeans and a sleeveless gray shirt.  The tone had quickly turned into a fit of laughter, as he pointed and was thoroughly amused by the display.  â€œLooks like we got new blood…” he sneered between his clenched teeth, making the words sound more like a hiss.  

“Why don’t you watch where your walking, or is that beyond your mental capacity.”  Elaine belted out in defiance.  Getting back to her feet, and gathering the boxes up.  When a foot came down on the elm box, she looked up and into his brown eyes.  His heel dug down into the wooden surface, and she heard a small cracking sound.  

“Stop It!”  Elaine screamed.  Her hands reached out and grabbed a hold of his leg.   In one jerking move he was off balance and falling backwards onto the pavement, arms flailing.  

“Why, you little…, you’ll pay for that.” he snarled as he quickly got back to his feet.  Elaine had gathered the boxes and looked up towards him, her eyes showing him she was not afraid.  When he came to approach her again, a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder.  

“Branden, what are you doing?  I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” Her voice was soft, melodic and he stopped in his tracks.  She stood about five foot four, her long black hair fell along her shoulders.  Her soft blue eyes looked out beneath long strands of hair, that hung in front of them.  

“I am sorry, he gets that way, when he doesn’t think.”  she held a hand out towards Elaine.

Elaine hesitated, she wasn’t sure who to trust, after all Branden had been right about one thing, she was new.  If she knew this boy, than where did that place her in the pecking order of the situation.  When she waved her hand in front of Elaine’s face a little annoyed, Elaine grabbed it.  Once she was on her feet again, she turned a sharp gaze towards Branden again.  

“Yea, he doesn’t think.  That I can agree to.  I think you could find better company than him.”  her voice was filled with frustration.  Branden’s lips furled back, revealing his teeth; and his anger at her words. 

“He doesn’t speak for me, and his actions; lets just say... a work in progress."  She held her hand out for a handshake, and Elaine shook it.

"Welcome to our town.  His name is, Branden Veach.   My name is, Versie Wierson.” 

To Be Continued - Chapter 3 - A Secret Note, A Worn Key

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UNTITLED X

There exists no peace within this mind,

only an endless chaos, splitting aside,

desperate he forges through to find,

a shred of humanity that inside resides.

Maybe, when the shadows of the past fade,

again this life of his, he can retake,

instead of these lies his mind fakes,

just to hide the pain that you've made.

There exists no dawn, that will shine,

through the darkened barriers inside,

calmly the mask is gently reprised,

another act to fully disguise.

He couldn't begin to wonder why,

you could rip his soul in half,

just to see the tears fall, see him cry,

or was it just to see him broken down,

with nothing left, but this darkened half.

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Untitled IX

I am chained by this life,

Shackled by the invisible knife,

One that isn’t always made of steel,

Each painful cut, makes it no less real,

My hope is a fractured display,

Where joy leads only to dismay,

As I sit with a tear in my eye

You misunderstand, I do not cry,

This charade isn’t my life

Yet again another slice of the knife

Cutting away the imperfections

My mask carving it’s way to perfection

The rotation of night, turns back to day,

Where my mind continues echoes away,

Each voice pouring through my soul,

Hitchhiking on their way to the goal,

Leaving behind a fractured story told,

Another voice that shall be heard,

Going on with a life I am unsure,

Another slice, swift, and deep,

Making this truth seem concrete,

I am chained to this life,

Each scar on my soul,

Not made by a knife,

Invisible to the invading night,

Are the light that shines,

When you’ve lost your fight.

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Untitled VII

I’ve waited and I’ve seen

This hope of joy must be my source of pain

Deep within resides the sorrowful remains

Entreating into the anguish I lean

Sitting hear where tears can fall

That is until the time comes again

Rather takes a piece of me away

On the ebbing tides I sway

Yearning grows deep inside

Saying I must not hide

My happiness in memories reside

Eternally captured within the tide

Every time my heart beats

Vipers coil tightly in my veins

Edging away from this love

Recklessly I fight back

You haven’t noticed

Did time pass so quickly In your mind

Are these antics your life style now

You haven’t noticed 

I can’t help but think

Never will you feel the same

Such love is singular to me

I can’t force this love to stay

Depressing is this life, when,

Each day I feel like I’ve died

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PART I:  The Latch-Key

Chapter 1

An Unstable Life

On November 8, 2004, a girl name Elaine Orren stood where the driveway ended and the street met, thumbs hooked in the pockets of her jeans, looking down the road towards the end of the lane.  She was twelve years old and tall for her age.  The wind swept back her brown hair, in long trails, flowing away from her face.  She stood there, filled with deep confusion, and painful feelings, after all she had lived at this place for two years.  Her life seemed empty, and devoid of stability.  They had not settled down for long, that was her mom and her that is.  As she stared down the empty street, waiting for the movers once more, Elaine felt a sense of dread inside.  Her father had passed away four years ago, from an unknown illness, leaving an emptiness inside of her heart.  Her mother had not looked for companionship.  Instead, she would never stay in one place for too long…that way no one could cause that kind of pain again.  What her mother had not seen, was the pain each move was bringing upon her daughter.  

“Elaine..,” the weak voice had come from behind her, from the other end of the sidewalk.  The boy was panting…trying hard to catch his breath, his hands bracing upon his knees, his gray eyes looked up at her, and his black hair fell in leaflets over his sweat covered face.  

“Charley Arnal, what are you doing?”  She didn’t mean to be short with him, in fact, Charley had been one of the few people that she could rely on to bring a smile to her face.  â€œYou’ve got to be careful, your asthma and all, you shouldn’t be running like that.”

“I wanted to be sure I caught you,” his voice was slow, she could tell he had been crying.  She bent down on one knee, her hand moving the thick black hair away from his face.  Charley, had always cried, but today she understood how he felt.  â€œI wanted to be sure that you got this before you left.”  He raised a small box shaped gift wrapped in newspapers.  

Elaine, paused; her hands fumbled around the box.  She looked from the box to Charley, who had caught his breath.  She tore away the small pieces of newspaper and scotch tape.  A wooden box, small and brown, lay in her hands.  On the front of the box was a small metal clasp, in the shape of a lock.  Her thumb ran over the surface of the clasp before she flipped it upwards.  

“Oh…Charley…,” she stared in disbelief into the box.  The tears that had not fallen, the realization having at last set in, and she felt the tears roll freely along her cheeks.  His gray eyes watched her, a smile spread across his face.  When she brought her fingers to withdraw the item, a loud honking sound came from up the road.  Her hand stopped, her heart sank…the movers had arrived.  She closed the box slowly, her hands tightening around the edges.  She walked over towards Charley, her arms wrapping around him.  He could feel her tears wetting the shoulders of his shirt.  

“Elaine!” her mother called, from behind them both, standing in the doorway of the place they had once called home.  A cigarette was hanging from between two fingers, as she tapped her foot on the ground, impatiently.  

“Thank You, Charley.” she whispered into his ear.  His arms didn’t want to let her go, but when she backed up, he found them opening.  His eyes quivered as he looked into hers, “you’re welcome,” he barely got the words out, before he took off running down the sidewalk, away from her…and away from the pain.

Elaine, turned back towards the house, her footsteps were slow.  Her mothers tapping foot, sounded like that of a funeral march, echoing, intrusive, giving the finality of the situation, with each tap.  She could find no happiness to muster, or any gladness in the decision, they both had somehow made, even though her mother had chosen this.  

“Elaine, would you hurry up.  Honestly, child, you always find a way to put me behind schedule.”  She stepped up and into the house.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother stamp out the cigarette on the peeling door panel.  

Out of all the things that she had come to despise, the wallpaper had to have been the most unappealing to her eyes.  Her mother had chosen the wallpaper too, an unattractive pea green color.   Elaine, had associated it with that of vomit.  She tried to be happy for her mother, but the more and more she watched the changes come, the more she hated them.        

Elaine’s room had been upstairs, at the end of the hall, the last room on the left.  On the doorknob was hung a ‘do not disturb’ sign, from one of the many hotels they had stayed at.   She turned the knob and let the door open on its own.  The walls were bare, except for the occasional nails and wire still hanging on the walls.  She stared at the boxes, and the suitcases…her life and memories spread out.  On top of the largest box, was a face down picture frame.  She picked the frame up and turned it over, her fathers face smiled up at her.  She missed him.  Their family had been whole at one time…they had been happy.  

“Hurry up, Elaine!” her mother rudely shouted from the hallway.  Elaine dropped the frame into the box, and started taking the boxes down the stairs and into the moving truck.  

The sun hung low in the sky before the movers had finished loading the truck.  Elaine, watched as the moving truck left the drive.  Her mother turned and locked the door one last time.  When she had reached the drivers side of the vehicle, she turned towards Elaine, who had been standing at the edge of the drive.  Her brown hair was blowing with the wind, and in her hands she held a small wooden box.  Tears fell slowly from her eyes, landing on the wooden surface.  She heard the sound of the vehicle starting up, and she didn’t move.  

“Charley…I will treasure this always…,” she whispered to herself…before turning to head up the driveway.  Her mom opened the car door from the drivers seat.  Elaine, turned around one last time to look at the house.  She waved her hand at the place, that had served as another home, before getting into the vehicle.

Another page in her life had come to a close.  As they started down the drive, she opened the wooden box, her fingers ran across the shining surface of a small locket.  When she opened the locket, she saw Charles’s face; smiling that all too familiar smile.   She held the locket to her chest and inside she wept quietly.  Beneath the locket had been a small note.  When she had went to open the note, she saw a glint of metal coming from the corner cushion of the box.  She drew the black cushion free, and her mouth fell open.  What lay beneath was a silver key, with a vine like image etched into the loop.  She took the key into her hand, and her thoughts went back to Charley. 

“What have you got there?” her mother asked quizzically.  She didn’t answer, she placed the items back into the wooden box.  

“I asked you a question, missy.” her mothers voice had become firm.

“A gift from a friend…another person left behind, while we keep moving onwards.”  Elaine’s voice had held back none of her pain.

“You will find more friends, and soon you wont even remember what you have left behind here.”  her mother had sounded so sure.  Her mother hadn’t made many friends, at least not any that didn’t serve some other purpose.   The metal clasp came down to rest over the stud, and she leaned her head against the window, as rain started to fall.

“Charley, what have you given me…?” she whispered to herself.

(To Be Continued: Chapter 2 - Versie Wierson....)

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Living Memories

I keep expecting this to be a dream,

when in my waking eyes I do see,

your hands holding out to mine,

your smile the mirror of sunshine.

With carefully measured steps,

I move into you without regret,

holding onto the memories,

that have come by request.

Your head turns to the side,

and your attention wanders,

carried by some ethereal thread,

worried that this love will end.

As our hands hold on tightly,

our whispers come through,

filled with the loving truth,

the memories that come to surface.

I am comforted by the memories,

that we have forged in time,

which like a photo album,

can be opened within our minds.

As your head rests against me,

my hands run through your hair,

watching your eyes close slowly,

heavy with a thousand things,

that have filled the day,

creating another living memory,

between you and me.

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