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Ciarto Chronicles 11After traversing the steep mountains, Ralian, Lorel, and Lucille had finally reached their destination: Talaria City, or the City of the Winged Heels. The city itself is situated on top of a steep cliff of the mountain of the same name. It is best known for several things in particular: scenic views of the Chasm Valley below, Talarian ale, and airships.
Lucille was enthralled by the view and the sight of airships flying overhead. Lorel, on the other hand, has been to Talaria before, resulting in a not-as-enthusiastic-as-Lucille expression. Ralian was looking forward to the ale more than the view.
With their next destination, Fairfen, being far away, Lorel suggested that they take the airship, which is the reason for their visit to the city. With Ralian's money, buying his own airship would be no problem.
After a little sightseeing, Lorel led the group to the shipyard.
"His name is Sir Edward Airship," said Lorel. "Long story short, he's the only man to talk to if you want an airship."
Ciarto Chronicles 10"Hold it right there, Ralian Ciarto!" said a voice that echoed through the mountain pass. Ralian's two companions turned their backs to see the owner of the voice but saw nothing. Ralian himself, on the other hand, simply stopped and looked straight in front of him.
"Who are you?" Ralian asked in a vexed voice. "I have no time to play games."
In front of him appeared a robed person. As the wind blew, the robe flew away, revealing a feminine figure, a bit younger than either Lorel or Lucille. She stood in front of the three, bearing a proud posture, demanding attention. Her face and hair are covered in black cloth.
"It doesn't matter who I am," she said. "Because you are going to die."
With a swift reflex, he pulled the sword from the sheath of his belt and parried the incoming attack from the assassin. Lorel didn't even see it coming and was sent aback in shock. She too instinctively pulled out her sword. On the other side, Lucille raised her staff.
"Stay out of this," said Ralian to t
Ciarto Chronicles 9Lorel ran as fast as she could. She paid no heed to the exhaustion trying to sink her body to the ground. As the sweat on her forehead instantly turned cold against the wind, all she could think of at the moment was to run... or die...
Are they gaining on us? gasped Lucille, who was running not far behind Lorel. How much more to the end of the forest?
Keep moving and don't waste your breath, said Ralian, whose voice wasnt of someone who is out of breath. These wood fiends have unending stamina within the shadows of this forest. Once we get out, they cant get to us.
The forest air was heavier, which made breathing a little bit difficult. Despite this, Lorel and Lucille gasped for as much air as possible to fuel their escape from the wood fiends. Hearing their jeering cries from behind didnt strike fear into their hearts, though, but annoyance.
As the cries from the wood fiends drew closer, Lorel, by instinct, had to take
My Static HeavenFrom the black abyss, he looks up,
A fluorescent look in his eyes
An unearthly light envelops him
The rebirth after his demise.
A farewell to the realm he left,
His soul escalates beyond the well,
Severing his link from life,
Arriving somewhere far from Hell.
Embraced the infinite future,
Erased all memories of reality,
Not even a hint of rejection
Staying for the rest of eternity
Senses stripped from his mind
Forcibly taken from his soul,
Replaced all with absolute joy
What was broken was now whole.
All thoughts were prohibited
Like an impregnable ivory prison,
Enslaved by the accursed bliss
Locked into everlasting temptation.
Insanity within known insanity
But a broken shell beyond repair
His pale lips wrench into a smile
Untouched by the vines of despair.
Incapable of showing any grief,
Never feeling the need to sigh
Without a tinge of regret in his heart
Intoxicated by an eternal high
From up the precipice, he looks down
A vacant stare from his face
Beside him is whom he cal
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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