Chronicles: Remembering Myself (5)

I walk the tattered landscape that I once called home. "Home" how could I have been so foolish? I walk away from it in disgrace as my head hangs down, more so in disbelief than anything else. Who had I become? How could I have lost myself so easily? I kick at a root in the dirt only to be rewarded with a stubbed toe. Whatever I had kicked was no root. It was too hard to be that. I knelt down and dug my fingers into the earth. Working my fingers around the base of the object, it soon became apparent. "My old sword." The great weapon of might that helped me along my path so long ago. Now it is old and rusted. Its inlaid markings all filled with dirt and mold. A shadow of itself, much like I had become. I knew my shield could not be far away. A few feet away, I found my shield. I had become the base of an old gnarled weed, the roots twisting around it like a prison. I began to pull at the weed the the thorns were sharp and unexpected. The small stinging pain in my fingers threw me for I had forgotten what pain was like. It angered me. Looking at my old rusted sword, I raised it up and slashed at the weeds in anger. Once, twice, three times I swung at them, until finally after the third strike, a memory flashed through my mind. The sword, the shield, my quest. It all came back to me at that moment. These were not tools of war. These were a part of me. They were my very appendages, only forgotten for so long. The forth strike met its mark and cleaved the gnarled weeds clean from my shield. I picked it up, shook the earth from it, and placed it in it rightful place on my arm. It was now a part of me again, and I then began to remember who I was and why my fight was not over yet.

Chronicles Lost: The Hunt (2)

"Choose someone."

The idea disgusted Nell as all men were alike. None of them appreciated her for who she really was. They just saw her as a prize to win and then show off. She had to clear her mind of all of this stress and the only way to do that was to sneak out of the castle and go hunting. Not killing or for game. She hunted to observe, and to try to outwit those she pursued, both human and beast. There had been tale of a foul beast, hidden amongst the woods that dared to kill any man who unfortunate enough to draw too near to it's clutches. The idea excited her and had decided to make this her last great adventure before giving into her parents wishes.

Chronicles Lost: The Princess (1)

Once upon a time, there was this beautiful princess. Amazing as she was, she did not feel that she belonged in her world of fancy lace and awkward dinner parties. The King and Queen kind and patient, very patient actually. They hoped she would one day grow out of this phase of hers and accept her royal duties as princess and one day as Queen. As they ears drifted by, the royal family continued to love their dear Nell as much as parents should love their children, but began to grow impatient. They began inviting a number of eligible Princes to their parties in hopes that one would catch her eye, but the idea bored her. All the Princes thought alike, acted alike, and all wanted the same thing. They wanted her as a trophy, not as a wife or a person to love. She was just a prize to them. Time passed and the princess got older and though unbecoming of a princess, be became more independent. Her parents were getting older, too and didn't want to leave things to chance. The thought of a princess becoming an old maid was unheard of. They loved her but grew impatient. One day, they told her that before her next birthday, she must choose. She protested and tried to explain how that was unfair to which her parents replied, " My darling Nell, you are almost thirty! Most princesses marry before they are even twenty. We love you so much, even we won't be around forever. Please dear, for us, choose someone."

Chronicles: The Awakening (4)

Arrows...
the sounds of battle.
My chest is heavy...
A light flashes before me as I am struck to the ground.
There now stands an angel of such beauty hovering above me.
Where is my heart?
It is so cold.

My eyes open as I gasp for air. The room is still. I lay there in cold sweat. My thick warm blankets and silken sheets are strewn about and kicked on the floor. The one's still wrapped around me are like pythons, heavy with sweat and worked around every limb as if to consume me.

My heart is racing. The only words that can manifest in my lungs are, "I remember."

How long has it been? Years? I can't tell. It has all listed lazily like some dream. Only now do I realize the trap that I was in.

I can see it so vividly now. The day of my so called victory. Standing there with my newly won kingdom before me. I thought the darkness looming on the horizon was the sunset. I should have never let my guard down. The second my sword and shield fell from my grasp, I had doomed myself. Accepting a lie that would keep me from knowing the light of day for all this time.

My sword? Where is my sword? No wait. I must be careful not to cause alarm. These walls. This whole kingdom has eyes. How could I have been so foolish?

I stand up from my bed. So soft and pleasing, I see it now to be only a granite slab. The cold sucking the core of my warmth down into the earth. My sheets of silk and think blankets are gone. There are only the torn rags of enemies long dead.
I am no king. I am a fool. Cold and weak with complacency.

Where is my sword!?