This is a late, late night quickie just to say that this account will be closed in the near future and all my (exceedingly juvenile, now SIGNIFICANTLY revised) prose will soon be relocated to another account.
That said,
Adios!


Untitled - Chapter 3UNTITLED - CHAPTER 3Untitled - Chapter 3
THE ANCIENTS' LEGACY
Fàolan opened his eyes. For a moment, he could recall nothing. Then, slowly, dimly, he became aware of the pain and then he remembered: last night Astraea
How do you feel, Fàolan?
He turned to find Alasdair at his bedside.
He flexed his arm once, and found that the pain was bearable. Well enough, he replied, to begin another day.
He made to get out of bed, but Alasdair shook his head.
No, Fàolan. You are wounded, and you were fevered in


Untitled - Chapter 2UNTITLED: CHAPTER 2Untitled - Chapter 2
EXPECTATIONS UNREALISED
Lady Gwynne Callaghan, creature of habit, paused yet again before the gilt-framed mirror in the Eastern Hallway. Not for the first time in that same dwindling hour, she stood gazing upon her own reflection with loving pride vanity, some would call it, but Gwynne would pay them no heed.
She wound a stray lock of hair around her finger as she studied the image in the mirror: her round face, framed by corn-coloured tresses that fell to her shoulders in soft ringlets; her emerald eyes; her smooth, golden skin; her cheeks rouged to a warm pink and her small,
Lamplight

RedemptionMyths of legend, and myths of yore. The gap is bridged and the veil torn. The rich replaced by sick and poor. They that lose need never to mourn.Redemption
Debtors live in desperate grief With worries blanketing like sheets Wondering when that lawful thief Will come and take their land, their seat.
But though the grief be thick and strong How glorious will be that throng when debts are paid by fortune's song? Broken made whole. Nothing is wrong.
The human sickness ever healed. A single blossom in a field. It's God's mercy ever sealed. &nb


The StormLightning shrouds the mountains A dark herald of things to come As gods and mages number the fallen And count the damned sum.The Storm
A bloody sky is the scene That sets the tragic stage, But the actors are fighters and fiends of war; It's the wicked that name the age.
The clouds swirl and shortly part, A crying moon is revealed, But all that's left is the blood stained patch Where the last of Truth had kneeled.
Obscured again, nought remains But the battling fiends below, Life and Grace stomped dead, And hatred left to grow.
Th
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"Those that didn't die trying, came out of the ordeal with stories to tell and pictures to paint. That's what makes the risk all worth it."
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"Those that didn't die trying, came out of the ordeal with stories to tell and pictures to paint. That's what makes the risk all worth it."
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