Aspiring to Inspire

Working on a project or two, I still fully intend to post more short things here but busyness has kept me away for a spell.

Hope any of you that still follow me will continue to do so when I return to posting content!

Much love,

Raucous screaming came from the town square. Townsfolk scattered in every direction possible, tripping and falling over each other and trampling anything that was laying in their path. In the opposite direction came the towns-guard, the city-watch. While the townsfolk panicked and flushed out, they were soon replaced with the garrison. Men quivered in their boots once they reached the town square and bore witness to what incited the panic. Some few deserted their posts but none moved an inch in toward the center of the square for at its center did a most majestic and terrifying beast make rest.

“My lord you cannot,” the man protected by armor of the finest quality forbade. Worn by the countless times it had saved his very life.

“But I can, and I must, for it is my duty to my people to stand before any such threat that cannot be met by force alone.”

“This threat is beyond our men, we must see to a proper evacuation and-“

“Escort my people to safety if you must, but I will not abandon my lands to this creature no matter how impressive it may be. Has it not been peaceful thus far?”

“That doesn’t mean-“

“Has it been peaceful thus far?” the lord repeated sternly.

“It has, my lord.”

“Then we will see what it wishes.”

Moving through the city streets the lord, accompanied by his guardsman, made his way toward the town square. At the center of the fortifications that were meant to protect from invaders but were useless to an invader of this nature. At the center of the square the most noble dragon did wait.

Laying his hand on the shoulder of one of his guardsmen the man jumped at the fright, but calmed when he saw the stoic and cool expression of his liege. Guided aside by the hand of his lord he made way so that his liege may pass.

Stepping forward from the men surrounding the beast in the square, none capable of figuring out what they would do should the worst come to pass. Many were like to flee, but the lord wondered how many would fight against the imminent threat of death. A thought he held only long enough to entertain his thoughts as he took a most leisurely pace toward his guest.

“Dragon,” he spoke clearly into the stillness of the moment, “legends have spoken of your kind but I fear you have stricken fear into the common folk by jumping out of those very legends and into my domain. To what might I owe this pleasure?”

“A question,” the ancient being spoke directly into the mind of the lord, never to any other did it appear that the beast spoke. “Wouldst thou most humbly accept destruction of this town, your land, that another may grow and flourish?”

Adjusting his stance, the lord looked over the men surrounded, none had heard the beast spoke but he knew what it had asked. “I would not, such a request must be summarily denied. My people are my most chief concern as is their well-being. Is there aught I can do to influence your decision to leaving these lands in peace?”

“Already hast thou done so,” the dragon did reply once more before preparing to take wing.

“May I make a request then?” the lord interjected.

“Thou may.”

“What did bring you hear with this request?”

My father was a king man, a humble man. My mother died a few years ago, age had taken her and now it too had taken my father. Together they rest eternally upon the hill behind our home. We were never wealthy, but my father left me enough that I might live a comfortable life until I married of my own volition. Instead I have chosen a different life.

With my pack in tow I searched the house for where my father kept it, the source and reminder of so many stories of the world he had seen. My father was a merchant, eventually, but first he was a traveler of the world. Not an adventurer like so many others who were far more daring he kept to the safe roads and saw the world. It was his tales of these far-off places that lit the fire in my heart when I was only a child.

Now that I am grown, a woman of my own right, I have nothing left to keep me from my dreams. Today I set out for my new life. My inheritance spent on the equipment I need, most importantly of them all the sword I now wear on my hip. Strong leather boots and a pack filled with rations for the road, camping material.

Before me is the world.

Still, I need only one last thing from my home before I can leave it behind for good. The box that lit up my young eyes with wonder. A small, broken little thing. Never in all of my years, in all of his attempts, had my father been able to get it open like the merchant had once said. Still, that was never its worth. For me it was always the proof of all of those stories my father had once told me. Every place he had traveled to and all of the sights he had seen were within the grasp of anyone who only wished to walk forward and claim them. This box was proof that the wondrous bazaar of the Rafaari had existed.

Finding the box deep within my fathers room I slipped it away into my pack. Offering my last respects to the place where my father had created a life for himself, my mother, and given me mine.

Now it was time to make my own, and it began the moment my boot first touched the dirt just outside my door.

Children shouted, screamed, and laughed as they ran through the bazaar. Colors of every imaginable shade and tint painted the streets. Adventurers, merchants, kings, and the common folk all walked these streets as equally as another. The Rafaari caravans had long since come together to make this place their home, a home of commerce and trade that outshined all the rest of the world. Far from the conflicts of man, elf, and the more bestial races. Here among the sands there was no fighting as there was nothing to fight for. Rich trade came to these lands for the peace the fruitless desert brought to the area.

“Anything you like, you like?” a plump creature much alike a cat that stood on its hind legs asked a passing traveler.

“Nothing, ser,” responded the young man. Brown cloak worn over his shoulders, a fresh look upon his young face. “I have traveled many nights to see a sight such as this and it is mine intent to take it in each and all before I might depart.”

“Ah! But what is it, you would wonder, that you might miss if you did not make a purchase of the bazaar before you depart, you depart? Come come, come into my shop, see my wares, see what it is you might take when you depart, you depart.”

“I have but spare few coins from the kingdom of man,” the young traveler said, revealing his small sack of coins.

Scurrying back into his shop the plump shop-keep did scurry about to find an item of interest, an old container that had never opened in a hundred lifetimes. A worthless trinket, for what could a container hold if it would never open. Yet, a purpose it might yet serve for the young master with little coin he thought.

“All coins we accept here,” the shop-keep did say when he returned from within. Placing the container down before the traveler. “Be they from the kingdom of man or the elves of the father do we give only the best of price, of price, For this container here has not opened for many lifetimes, but it is yet a reminder of so many years past, years past. Is it not such a good momento for a young man to spare only just a few coins to the Rafaari, the Rafaari?”

Who am I? I crossed the street and came across a theater, I liked the music I heard within. Maybe I was a musician? So I took up an instrument and joined a band. Many others knew which instrument they liked but I did not. While they practiced every day I only practiced once a week. They became so much better than me much more quickly, soon I was no longer able to keep up. Perhaps, I thought, I was not a musician.

I walked to the local library, there I read a book. I liked the book and thought that maybe I could be a writer? So I put my pen to the paper, and once a month I wrote a poem for a year. Other writers whom I met had written novels, they had put in the work day after day and had something great to show for their efforts. All I had were a few poems that no one read but I liked to look back at from time to time. Perhaps, I thought, I was not a writer.

Then I realized I gave much of my time to others, I thought I was generous. So I set out to find others who were generous, others who helped people. Some of them gave every second they had to helping others, I could never keep up with their pace. Perhaps, I thought, I am not so generous.

Maybe, I thought, I am kind? I found people I thought I could help. I offered them my ear, and I gave their worries a listen. They told me so many things. Some things I wish I had not heard. Some things I felt I should speak to them about. Then, I thought, perhaps I am not so kind.

I sat in a park for a long time as I thought. I thought of all the things I thought I might be, a musician, a writer, someone who was generous, and someone who was kind. All of these I thought I might be, but I am not any one of these things I have come to see.

I am someone who enjoys music but I am not devoted to it. I am someone who enjoys writing but it is not so much a passion as a hobby. I am generous but I am not selfless. I am kind but I am not blind.

I am all of these things, but I am not so much of these things that I am one of them. I wondered for some time who I am, I searched for someone like me but I could not find a single person. I realized I am not like any other person. So, I asked myself again, who am I?

“… that’s great, give ‘em the boot! Anyway, I’m with Jason now. No, of course not.  Yea I’ll be sure to. Alright, T-T-Y-L,” she smiled as she hung up her cell.

“So, who was that?” I asked, not looking away from my sketch. A small piece of two characters from a show I found last week and liked.

“Just Cassy, she was checking in and told me about how she just broke up with that guy she met a few days ago.”

“He didn’t stay long,” I commented, correcting a mistake on the page.

“Yea yea, doesn’t surprise me much.”

“Why not?”

“Cassy has been weird like that.”

“Weird like what?”

“You know, picking up this guy or that, talking to him for a few days and then just dropping them out of the blue. Never gonna find someone like that if she keeps not giving them a chance.”

“Maybe they weren’t the right fit,” I suggested.

“I just think its weird how she keeps going through them so quickly. Like she doesn’t really want to try or something. I dunno, think she’s just using them.”

“Doesn’t seem like Cassy, think she’s just a pretty good judge of what she wants.”

“Yea, maybe,” she swiped through her phone for a few minutes. Together we sat while I kept sketching up my piece. The main character, Dorian sat in the lap of the other. I’ve had the image in my mind all week of him nuzzling up against Rodrick, it gave me a warm feeling the love they seemed to share. It stuck with me and I just needed to put it to paper. That warmth.

“What’re you doing anyway?” she asked.

“Making some fanart. Well... it’s just a rough idea really. Not sure if it’s something I’m really going to finish.”

“Can I see it?”

I hesitated, “Sure.”

She looked over my shoulder at the page, scanning it for a few minutes as if she was missing something.

“Huh, I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Into what?”

“Anime… or whatever that’s called.”

“It’s not… anime, but I guess I see where you’re going with that. My style is a little different than most, I suppose. Characters just caught my eye in the show, needed to put something on the page with them.”

“Right, little provocative though, isn’t it?”

“Not really, just an embrace.”

“Huh.”

“Well… what did you think?”

Rocks scattered and fled from the top of the cliff. Knocked aside by the trespass of the adventurers boots laid firmly into the summit of the tallest mountain of the range. Casting aside his cloak, his pack, the adventurer sat upon stone as he peered out over the peak and witnessing the great open, flat ground of pebbles that lay between him and the opening of a cave cut deep into the mountain. No mountain, he was sure, would have such an unnatural cave as this on its summit.

For certain he was that he had finally reached the right place. This place which might offer him and his family, his town, the freedom from oppression that they sought. Freedom from the yoke of the Empire. Deliverance from their woes. It was all his town could do to afford to send him alone on this journey, rusted sword for protection and a pack near only large enough to carry the most essential of essentials. Many nights had he slept under the stars and upon the dirt that he might see his dreams before him instead of in the stars. Only now was it finally at hand.

Here among the clouds did he set forward into the open realm of pebbles and stones. Standing at the center of the field. Here did he strike his sword down deep into the dirt, the rock, that he might not retrieve it again. Here he sat. Waiting for the arrival of the one whom he was told to expect.

Long was the day. Warmth of the sun turned to the cool breath of night. So cold to the touch upon this peak was it that his body shivered and quaked. Yet remain he did. For some more hours yet need her remain before he was finally acknowledged by the one whom he sought.

Old and great was the beast that set foot forward from the deepest depths of the cave before him. Great was his maw, and long was his form. Each foot set out with a great thundering as his majesty did waken all who might bear witness to him. Scales adorned its body, scars traced along each side where countless blows of the sword had made efforts to slay this majestic beast. Nigh on the size of a lesser lords castle did this creature appear at full size. Close did it come to the man that knelt before him in awe.

“O’ great dragon… I beg of ye, spare me and my people. Deliver us from the unjust Count who would see our town laid to waste. Go to him, to his castle, and destroy all those who would do us harm by suffering us of their unmatchable taxes. I beg of you O’ great dragon. Deliver me, this simple man and his simple way of life, this great boon.”

Respond the dragon did not. Question his request the dragon did not. Take wing did the dragon thusly do in reply to the man’s humble request. Spreading its wings that it might encompass the heavens with its wingspan. Knocking the man to the ground with the strength of the gust that it took to launch itself into the air with a quickened run, the thunder of the gods as its feet made each contact with the grounds surface.

With great effort did the dragon gain lift and fly in the direction of the Count and his men. Leaving the man battered and beaten by his experience to lay upon the pebbles of the mountains peak and wonder.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

I look up from my screen. Three people in front of me stood a man in line looking apologetically toward everyone near him in turn as he shut off the alarm on his phone. When he looks to me I smile, it wasn’t a real smile I just didn’t want him to feel like he’d done something wrong.

My phone says it is ten thirty in the morning, and I can hardly believe it’s already been two hours. Feels more like the whole day has passed me by.

Friends are getting married tomorrow, that’s what it says. Reads out across my screen like a newsflash and I tap the screen to follow it. A save the date by pond, standing on the dock, they’re holding a sign with it while kissing. It’s a cute picture, I think. For a moment I wonder if they will invite me; for a moment I wonder if I would even go if they did.

We’ve moved up again. I look up from my phone once more, find the guy with the alarm talking to the person in front of him. Whatever his alarm must have been for, he’s missed it. Maybe he forgot he even set the alarm at all. Maybe it was set originally for work today but he took off to be here.

I was supposed to work today. Couldn’t pass up the chance though, if I did I might have been left behind, left out. Didn’t want to stand there while everyone gushed over everything that was new while I remained clueless, so I came here. Seven thirty in the morning. I stood in line.

My phone goes off. Mom, the screen reads. Probably wants to talk to me about the recent breakup, we can talk later. I ignore it. I’m in line, wouldn’t want to disturb anyone else.

Next.

I look up, they’re looking at me expectantly from behind the counter. I forget when I passed through the doors but the space was very white, gray. There was a small open area between me and the counter, where they had us wait. I approached the counter and the girl behind the desk rattled something off at me before pushing the pay pad in front of me. I took out my card and paid. She looked at it, at me, smiled and then nodded to the man beside the counter. He wore a dark grey suit, broad shoulders. When I looked at him he handed me the next box from the stack at his side. When I grabbed for it I forgot my phone, dropped it.

Screen was shattered. Wouldn’t be able to call mom back now anyway, will have to wait till I get home. I pocket my phone and look to the small box in my hand. I open it, dig inside, and pull out the contents.

A phone.

I turn on the power and watch the little 3-D sprite flash to life. It starts to tell me about the features it can provide… I look toward the sky instead. Clouds painted the grey and grey image from above the city skyline. It’s probably going to rain. I put my phone into my pocket.

Birds chirp as they fly between treetops.

Orange, gold, brown, leaves sway with the blowing of the wind.

Hooves of a horse clap against the stonework of the road with a satisfying click as if a musical tune, echoing.

Wood snaps, crash of crates and boxes against the stone, horses neigh loudly. Birds cease their flight. The sound of the wind disappears under the swearing of a man,

“Y’ve gon’ and don’ it now Paulie, gon’ and don’ it ‘gain,” the larger, rotund man rose high from his pedestal at the front of the carriage. Straight up, unburdened by the reigns.

Calming the horses, holding the reigns tight, was that of the smaller man, lanky and dressed in last year’s clothes that belonged even then to the year before that. “I.. I,” he stammers as he focuses on calming the horses. Calling out to them, shushing them gently. It pained him to see them like this.

“I, I,” the larger man repeated back at him mockingly. “Y’ weren’t thinkin’ Paulie, that’s what y’ were doin’, not bloody watchin’ the road like y’ were supposed ta, and look’in what you gon’ and done now. Why I oughta tell the boss what y’ gon’ and done again.”

“I-it-weren’t me last t-time Jaune, y-you know-“Jaune turned violently to face, Paulie throwing him nearly backward off the wagon.

“What is it I know Paulie, what is it why don’ you tell me?”

Paulie let go of the reigns, held the side of the cart and pulled himself back atop it- “N-nothing Jaune, nothin’ I-I didn’ mean nothin’ by it, just that-“

“Just nothing, right?” Jaune said, crossing his large arms over his broad chest.

“R-right Jaune.. j-just nothin’,” Paulie resigned as he settled the horses further, saw to the reigns.

“Bloody right,” Jaune snorted, stepping back down off the wagon carefully, using the front wheel for support. Finding it a slow and arduous process on account of his massive size.

Leaves cracked underneath his boot, every step toward the rear of the wagon was announced with the pronounced sound of autumn. Groaning over the exertion Jaune lowered himself to check the cart. It was the back right wheel, it had cracked in two in a most uneven way because of the misplaced broken stones along the path.

“Wheel’s all bent outta shape,” he barked back toward the front, where Paulie yet remained.”Yer gonna have to go inta the forest, find us some sticks and wood, can ya do that Paulie? Can ya do at least that?”

Paulie came about from the back of the wagon, forcing Jaune onto his back foot from the fright, “Why you want me to go and do that Jaune? To fix the wagon?”

“No!” he shouted, temper leaking into his voice. Heart racing from Paulie’s suddenness. “For a fire Paulie, we ain’t gonna be risking movin’ this wagon out in the dark. Not like this. Cracks anymore and we’ll be stranded out on the side ‘f the road in the dark, and I don’t need tah tell you how bad that is, do I Paulie?”

“N-no Jaune…”

“Well, then get to it!” Jaune barked.

So, this is the first post on my blog. What I wanted to do here quick was expand on what I aim to do here, why I am doing it this way, and how you can all expect to see it play out. 

I want to make characters, I want to make stories. 

I don’t really know how exactly I want to do that yet or in what form but I know that this is what I want to do. So, why this blog? Where else better to put up my work and keep myself putting something out there? Sure, some of it might be bad. Some of it I might look back on and hate it was ever posted up here and maybe some of it nobody is ever going to read.

But it’ll be up here, I’ll have posted it, and it will be mine. I suppose, in the end, I don’t need anyone to ever come on this blog and read what I post. I don’t need it, but it’d be really really cool if people enjoyed it.

What is there to lose, I figure, anyone who follows gets occasional content that might be cool. Hard to argue with that, right?

Anyway, if this is the first post of mine you’re ever reading it’s nice to meet you. If it’s not, then maybe I’ve actually gotten somewhere with this and in that case I’m glad you’ve chosen to read this too! 

I’m hoping this will be a cool place to come and write, chat, and explore.

Stay Excellent,