"What lines of deceit and agony lead this tortured life. Threads that intertwine and weave a pitiful blanket and makeup of the entity of our lives .Coming to you as an unending plague, a dark crevice in which no life is meant to shine. No warmth to peak it's cold…Just darkness, an unending pestilence of rotting black, that seeps to your heart like a wicked poison, only set upon your demise,
your downfall, your death, only to rust as the rotting decay of your soul, that sits upon the rapture of this earth in a putrid prison of flesh and bone; No hope to escape…No hope too see the light, No Hope to die…. Yet live on, in the shattered cripple of your existence. How much you feel,
when that black, takes over the ones you love, yet leaves you, only to suffer, for an eternity.

~Nostariel Lyvianthe"


'The snow was gently laying quilts of new white blankets upon the ground. The sky was a stormy pale gray while laughs of children could be heard throughout all the houses that resembled that of a small town in the medieval Earth bound Britain. Insipid morning darkness
lay over the small neighborhood.

One house, the thuds of tiny feet were heard. The source it seemed started in a small white cottage, with a stone fireplace chimney that ran up the rear of the cottage, in which a small garden was held, frozen in time in the winter's frosty breath. Smoke curled from the chimney in dirty pearl turrets. A candle flickered to life, filling the fogged window with
a pale, luminescent glow.

In the house, there was a room, with large windows that showed into the garden yet were fogged over with the bitter frost. A boy sat next to the tree, fingers ripping into the wrapping and tearing off the paper. A new dagger sat before him, and a grin was plastered to his young face, dual colored eyes shimmering in an innocent radiance. Happiness
radiating in his brilliant blue eye, accompanied by it's emerald green twin.

A young girl thundered down the stairs. Plaid green draped over her delicate form while sandy blonde hair fell just above her shoulders, a twin replica of the boy, yet a slight feminine touch to her features. Jumping down the last step she skidded about sliding next to her brother and looking over the presents.


"Any for Me Arthion? Back there? “She articulated her voice smooth and light as she looked around hopefully about the tree. Arthion looked up and shook his sandy head, then turned back to his gift. The small five year old looked around sadly for a present just as a woman hurried into the room, sandy blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, with dark bags beneath her startling azure eyes.

"Nostarial" she said, walking over with a smile toward a large bulk in which there was a black blanket thrown over. "Come 'ere Nos" she said with a warm smile, her blue eyes twinkling with love and internal warmth. Pulling off the blanket there stood a Large harp, the wood was not of the best make, second rate to say at the least, yet…Their family was not exactly rich. The young girl's eyes lit
up in extreme delight, fingers running along the wood.

"Mother, for me?" she asked, her voice light and full. Her mother nodded,
"True Nos, just for you; Now play something darling…Play something for us" she said with a smile, pulling a small stool from a table in the foyer and setting it beside the harp. Nostariel smiled widely with small, pearly teeth. Closing her blue eye, followed by its brilliant bright green double.

Her delicate tiny fingers danced over the strings, created a mesmerizing tune, with a soft enchanting song. Arthion stood up, standing by his sister's shoulder, head bobbing with the sweet tune. His placid, guiltless voice popped in, followed by Nos's slightly higher voice. Last, their mother crossed her arms over her chest, head nodding and her own voice rung in with her children's. The pure sound of the family's joy completing the joyful holiday.
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A sudden whistling sound filled the air, first faint and soft, yet soon a deafening roar. Nostariel's delicate fingers stopped from their dance to raise her head to the ceiling, only to let out a startling scream as the ground rumbled and shook, and village
screams rang through the air.

The twin's mother stood up quickly, pulling her children both in her arms and starting to bring them to the hatch in the ground. The house groaned and flames could be scene leaping outside, the village aflame. It was quite unnerving, that such doom was brought about in such little time, yet none the less, It was there.
"Come darlings..." she whispered.


Another strange whipping through the air, and the side of the house buckled after the mass of a mammoth object hurled into the side. The rafter at the top of the roof, groaned dangerously like a wooden beast. Arthion's head raised just as the splintered beam, crashed into his chest, pinning him through to the ground, dual eyes, that mirrored Nostariel's flickering then falling lifeless Nostariel's mother cried out, jumping forward to her fallen son. The house groaned again and Nostariel jumped a step back as the ground behind her rumbled, raising her head to the ceiling, another part of the ceiling buckled, Crashing down on her mother, and her dead brother.

"MAMA!" her fragile voice screamed, ignoring the dust and smoke that swirled in her eyes and choked her throat.

She leapt forward, to the massing pile of debris, pulling away at the piles of wood and trying to dig out her mother, who was undoubtedly taken by the cruel fate of bereavement. A single drop, filled with love, and sorrow fell upon the wood and debris. The tear soaked into the solid, wetting the fibers in that one tiny spot. The house groaned dangerously again and her frail arms wiped the
tears on the back of her sleeves, Another hurt groan of the wood, sent her on her feet, hesitating at first on the pile of debris then sprinting forward, out the bay doors at the back of the house and stumbling into the garden. Outside was no less different.


Screams ransacked the air, while smoke tore at the sky, as if the heavens themselves were bleeding and hurt. Frail legs finally
gave way and she fell to the ground, her mind slipping into a black void, falling out of conscious, to the sound of screams.'


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There was a large gasp as a woman sat up straight in her bed. Perspiration matted her brow as her breaths came in raspy gasps. Her eyes held a wild fright as tears streamed from the dual orbs, yet it soon backed down in what could be a sorrowful irritation. Thin fingers grasped the furs draped over her and threw them off her body, rising from her bed. A gentle sigh surpassed her lips as she pushed her hand through her sandy tresses. After a brief moment of silence, she grabbed her clothes, dawning them quickly. Lastly she buckled her belt on her waist, staring down at the sword at her wait. Biting her lip for a moment, she nodded as if in self reassurance and headed out her door.

Leather soles graced the streets; Every step seeming to bring about a great threat yet something of a regal excellence. The air or the gait, would make no matter, for it seemed it was of both, as the woman who seemed to be nearing her twenties made her way through the streets. Head bent low, she finally raised her eyes to the bright glare of the afternoon sun, a hand resting on her brow to block out the shine the sun was casting in her dual eyes.
The warm smell suddenly caught to her senses, and the closest thing that could come to a smile perched onto her lips. Stepping forward, her keen vision finally caught it, The bread venders. Her gentle stride picked up, sword bouncing lightly against her leg. Stopping at the vender she pulled out her coin pouch. “Just a loaf” she intoned lightly with a nod, the smell now overwhealming this close. The vender nodded, turning around and taking up a loaf of bread from the oven, wrapping it lightly in cloth and smiling greedily as he counted the coins handed to him.

Nostariel turned about with her meal, the dark crimson imperial insignia standing out slightly as the sun struck the back of her cloak. Unwrapping the bread quickly she took a bite, smiling at the warm dough seemed to melt in her mouth. Tucking it gently in a pouch at her hip she continued her graceful gait through the crowds, melding into the crowds as she did.

‘It’s a bit lat for breakfast don’t you think’ grumbled a deep throaty voice in her head. Nostariel laughed softly, which caused some to turn their heads in curiosity and bemusement. ‘Vehiron, you never cease to pester.’ She replied to her bonded companion in thoughts. ‘I’ll see you when I return, I won’t be long’ The only reply was a grumble in her mind and the stark emotion of agreement. Smiling she took out her bread again, taking a small bite of the warm dough and looking to the sky.

Such a funny thing, such as fate is. A weaving of all threads that come to cross either way. Yet, when they do cross directly; It is an interesting weave of passion, emotion, and curiosity. What comes of the select few, of only destiny and fate can tell. Yet there is a story written for us all, it is us, as the rulers of that fate; Our duty, our responsibility…To finish it.-d-