Monday 2 May 2022

My Work: Torment

Hi All.

Re-post of some of my older work, if you've been here before you may have read it, though its nice to look back now and then

“My story begins in darkness. And the story ends in darkness, and the middle?”

I sadly whispered into the night, it was a loving companion these days. But then hadn't it always been. Or was it me that had changed, so much was lost during that story. But what was gained?

For the first time in an age I felt weakness. The emptiness inside that one gets when all is lost. Something told me that my story wasn’t over, that a new page was being written even now. But how can a new chapter be written without them?

I stood from the cold marble throne I was sitting in. And again I looked around at the room. It had been beautiful once, a great hall of kings. The ruins were part of my story, not a great part. But this place reminded me of simpler times.

I walk slowly through the demented room. It seemed to have grown angry over the years. I see an archway a few steps in front of me. My eyes piercing the veil of darkness, and through the veil I saw runes scribed into the arch. I remember when I first laid my eyes upon these runes. Such a naïve fool I was back then. The distaste of remembering that time in my life left a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

And like fuel to the fire, the emptiness swelling, but a voice sounded from behind me, the voice was one that I knew. But my mind knew that wouldn’t be possible, the dead don’t speak.

“I have found you.”
So that is how our story begins, one twisted shell of a hero tormented by the past begins his second chapter so to speak.

But what happens next? Who is the dead man? Who is the hero? Well aren't you full of questions. Questions that will be answered all in due time. But for the moment know that this part of the story was used to bring these questions to the surface knowing full well that you weren't ready for the answers.

Ahh, where are my manners, I've yet to give introductions. I am a simple storyteller, I weave words together to spin a tale of the usual proportions. And as any good bard I have a reputation for embellishment, exaggeration, and most of all unnecessary bursts of song.

And you? Well as every reader knows all stories have a degree of truth to them. You are an interested party, someone looking for entertainment more than facts, and so I could relay the events to you as they happened, or I can add a touch of flavor to the events. And I am ever so good at the latter, some might say too good, although the people that do say that would say it well out of my earshot.

But my friend, this is the beginning, yet I appear to have began in the middle, and so I interrupt my own writing to offer a brief explanation, an explanation that will be unsatisfactory.

This story relays to you the myths of the past, but not of your world, earth, such a plain and simple name. But of a world of magic, a world of creatures of your myth. As the storytellers of your past once accidentally discovered my world, I stumbled across yours.

Now how did a bard end up in your world, that is best left for another story. And possibly another storyteller. But my dear reader I'm sure you need not know that this is page one of your journey with me. Follow me as I take you down the metaphorical rabbit hole into the wonderland that is my home.



Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. -Thomas A. Edison