Nothing arrived - Legeriz 9

The muffled sounds of the car engine nuzzled the silent night as the creak of an older door crisped through the air and a shrouded figure emerged. His presence was unfamiliar to the silent country-side; a road that passed through was lost by the mountains that encompassed it. The area was dispersed, an island of green sheltered by nature yet with its arms wide open to the strangers that came through.

He sighed, keys turning against the engine, silencing the quiet purr and sinking the night back into serenity. The skylight gave way to the winter blossoms in full bloom, as the night dew lay crystallising on them. He began a brisk pace through an unfamiliar path, yet memory served as nd guide as his steps seemed to be taking him higher into the green hills. Muscle memory steered the stranger up the path as his breath grew laboured; time clearly sinking into his slowing body. The figure stiffened as he reached the summit and smiled at the view rewarded for his journey.

The moonlight dipped, illuminating the strangers' face as he slouched down upon the grass, damp with the dew, but unbothered by the wetness all the same. He smiled, hazel eyes glistening in the lights reflection, as his flecks of his auburn beard and long hair moved ever so slightly, jostled by the night wind, and memories began to come to life...

Her floral dress bounced in the sunshine as he lay a blanket onto the still wet grass, happiness bounding through her. The hillside looked beautiful as the mid morning sun ever so carelessly broke through the birch trees that sheltered its crest. He smiled at her, specks of auburn shooting through his young and energetic face as his eyes met the ones they had been searching for all day; blue, like the sky above them, and full of a love he still wondered why she felt for him. She gently lay down, head carelessly falling into his lap as his heart began to accelerate. A curious giggle, almost as if she knew the effect he was having on her.

'This will always be', she chimed, eyes never leaving his as her words created an eternity within them...

The moon began to sink into the hillside as faded rays revealed the stumps of birch trees that once stood at its crest. The stranger that had lay sitting there for what seemed like hours began to rise. Swiping away the last of the dew that clung to his jeans he made his way back to the silent car that now lay hidden in darkness. It had been 19 years since he had first started coming here by himself, 19 years where nothing arrived. 

Twins - Legeriz 8

Fire

The porcelain vase flew past her face, shattering against the wall behind her, as a large and menacing fist came into her line of sight, blinding her instantly... Darkness

She awoke, vision blurred as her lungs struggled to take in air. She gasped against the nothing as her hands scrambled to identify the surroundings. It was dark, dusty and her heart was pounding. Whispers of white light cracked through the porous walls as her eyes sensitised themselves to their surroundings. Marble; ivory and beautiful, as the one she had seen not long ago, adorned the square space. Neat chunks shaped into the wall intensifying the illusion of an infinity space yet still ensuring that its occupants were aware of the compressing size.

Head pounding, she pushed against the walls, tears hot and wild, running down her face as the fear of closed spaces took over her. Whimpers were heard and past to no avail as she broke down by the now suffocating room and collapsed into the silence. His face appeared and she felt his pain now consume her.

Ice

She playfully bit his lip as he throatily chuckled. His breath was alluring and cool as he grabbed her with a desire unmatched by any before. His lips traced hers as the embrace continued. The aqua waters playfully swirled around their legs as the sat on their boards, clearly uninterested in the golden sand and waves before them.

Smirking, his strong hands guided her towards the waves that lay ahead. They paddled eagerly towards the large and cascading white curls, fear playfully skirted away, hearts full of a desire to triumph. He rose, balancing perfectly on his board, as he began a large decent; the waters guiding him towards victory. The water crested, and he soared, ruler of the sea for a moment, eyes effortlessly staring towards the horizon ahead. She watched in awe, as the wave took him higher and faster; heartbeat accelerated as the water grew large, his balance stumbled and the ocean consumed him.

He fought, hands pummelling towards the surface, but the water continued to beat down. Irises widened as his lungs filled with sea water, and his breathing slow, suffocating into the darkness. As the air escaped him, he felt a familiar feeling of connection, tears streamed through the salt water as he felt his sisters pain. 

A Conversation to Myself

Outcasts
It pains me to say how much influence a person can have on your life.

People were shaped by surroundings as evolution determined that we would adapt to suit the life around us.

Yet resistance constructed itself as an outcast; torn from normality but born to be different. How would these individuals survive? Alienate or be alienated as social norms lured us to die down our differences and take a muted stance amongst the rest.

Most of this rarely affects us till we find ourselves in a situation where like for like rarely seems to be the case. Then what?

I've always wondered whether humans can test the concept of being social beings. We are after all considerably dispositioned to interact amongst ourselves without alternate thought.

Perhaps it is the case that we enjoy the normality of it? It becomes second nature to conduct a muted version of ourself around others and then we are trained to relish that diminished encounter.

For the last 22 years I've recognised the limitations of my ability to interact with a wide range of people. A majority of that time I spent developing my ability to understand the more niche aspects of personalities to better blend into the surroundings. Yet was it all worth it?

True; I stand now an individual with a chameleon-like ability to force a personality onto myself to better represent the company I am in, but at what cost? We try so hard to be relevant amongst others that we lose the relevance to ourselves without them.

All I've wanted was to be passionate about what others felt passionate about. It was more of an obligation to better showcase how much I cared, and hence, how much value I would add to that person's life. A bit like a selling proposal where people pitched their interests to match that of others but more sophisticated than the random draw that had been our system of selection for so long.

An errant thought that has been nagging at the back of my head for weeks to resolutely recognise as being not a problem of who I am, but rather a personified flaw that should have been noticed long ago. By very definition a majority of people would consider it an asset, but I now realise that I grow tired of the charade that is the self imposed interest onto the lives of others.

Do not get me wrong, I am by no means broken from normality. Rather I find myself more able to command a larger depth of difference when dealing with individuals who consider themselves to be more exotic in personality types. Yet the constant weight of constructed emotions begins to burden me for minor scenarios and I find myself withdrawn from individuals who I do not view as being selective priority.

Does this make me a bad person? Perhaps not. It does however make me human; at least a part of me. 

A time once forgotten - Legeriz 7

[Part 2/2]

'Some things never change', she chimed in happiness, her voice unfamiliar to the beautiful silent apartment they glided into as the lift door made its familiar 'ding' back down.

'Do you like it?', he questioned tersely, knowing the answer already, a familiar vision he'd replayed in his mind over and over ever since he foresaw it many years ago.

'It's beautiful', she spoke in awe, the moonlight now filtering in through the disappearing clouds, highlighting the penthouse in all its glory. The white engraved marble extended from the lobby into the magnificent living room. Skylights and floor length windows brightened up the muted home, as victorian pillars supported the 3 stories. She gently placed her hand on the cold Italian marble that covered the open-kitchen counter tops and looked at him, a sense of pride about her of all that her brother had accomplished since the last time she had left him.

'Bit of an upgrade', he chuckled, as his elder sister took in the awe of the place that he had come to call home. 'Just a bit', she teetered back, a game they had played in unison over the past years. 'But some things are just the same', she smiled eyeing the boxes of Chinese takeaway containers carefully placed on the carved mahogany table. He chuckled to himself, his voice echoed through the marble pillars as they sat down to eat.

'So how long are you here for this time', he asked, tensely awaiting her response. 'My client's being flown here by private jet as we speak, and I expect to have things wrapped up within a week or so', she answered, mind flashing through the millions of minute details that underlay the foundation of this case. He sighed, placing his chopsticks precariously on the half eaten box of Kung-Pao. The rain had picked up outside, and Manhattans streets were feeling the beating of mother nature.

'How's things on your end?, she asked, shifting the topic in an attempt to take his mind away from what she knew he was thinking about. 'Have you spoken to her?'

His eyes flashed silver as he glared back, like diamonds ignited as he realised the energy he was releasing and once more retained perfect composure... It had been nearly a decade since he had lost control, and he would not be starting now. 

Stay like this forever - Legeriz 6

[Part 1/2]

The raindrops beat against the glass pane as he overlooked the New York skyline. 'Typical Manhattan', he smirked, back against the rapidly cooling glass as he slipped on the black jacket that lay on the leather couch, a gift he hadn't yet forgotten to remind her of. The lift door chimed as he left the now silent penthouse, 34 floors down and he was out, the concierge kind enough as always to call him a cab.

The silent humming of the black Mercedes was relaxing as they swerved through the streets. 'It won't be long now' he thought, as the car gilded into the airport. He tipped the driver as he escorted him under umbrella through to the airport lounge. The lighting was dimmed as per custom at this hour as he looked at the terminal announcements. 'Delayed', he sighed to himself as he trod to the lounge bar, a familiar face greeting him with a smirk and a flash of red hair, a dry martini placed in front of him. His phone buzzed as he nibbled on the olive, clearly old habits were hard to beat. He smiled as he headed down to the arrivals gate where he lay precariously in the distance, able to see but not be seen.

She walked, pink clutch and slate jacket a familiar sight, with an air of regality that he'd grown accustomed to over the years. After all it had been 6 since last time he'd seen her face. Suppose being a hot-shot lawyer does that to you. Now now, he teased at his conscience, she's doing this for the good of people; something with a far better purpose that what he was currently working for. She saw him, face lit up as always and then relaxed into informality as she brushed against his chest, a soft hug that welcomed her back. 'Welcome back sister', he breathed into her hair as he carried her bags back towards their awaiting ride back home.

We screwed up - Legeriz 5

The following is an extract of the author's exaggerated view point of a failed relationship. In no way is it meant to reflect reality.

- Pride.

A meaningless emotion, formed of our personification as  human beings of what we consider superiority. It defines us sometimes, vigorously running through our bloodstream, beating deeply inside our hearts as we look outside to the world, challenging it for our existence. 

- We run. 

Our pride, forces us to avoid what stands tall and strong, in plain black and white. Denial to accept, denial to believe in what we can't fathom to accept. It was done, from the moment that it started, and you and I both knew that. Yet we fight, meaninglessly, for the chance to not only rebuild but to claim back. Claim back that stance we had where we thought we knew it all. The perfect failure, a relationship doomed to start from the moment it was planned to succeed. Pride brought it down upon us, and like all tyrants, claimed another two for its victory. At the end of day, none of us won, pride did. 

- Then comes the humour. 

The sick, twisted, mentality that above all, this is perhaps is a bit ludicrous; almost amusing to an extent. 

"He giggled. An unusual form of laughter, that teetered on the edge between dark and light, its meaning quite indiscernible to those who weren't aware of its context. Surely this cannot be happening again. After all, you were supposed to be different. When you experience pain, you're not stupid enough to deliver back are you? You learn, and recognise and perhaps move on? Nope, he sighed, his breath laced with the fumes of early hours drinking. Never a good sign. Hysteria often cropped up in his list of common words to describe what he was feeling.

Relaxed, his mind seemed overjoyed by the thought of the future. Deep down he knew he was above this, but the joy of tormenting someone for the pain they had caused him, was far too tempting a treat to give in. He succumbed and so the cycle of emotion began once more."

- Live for the drama, die for the pain; do it all over again. 

"It's all a game to you isn't it? Yes, agreed, cheekily smiling back as if his mind was cruel enough to inflict such a rhetorical response. True he knew he'd hurt, but at this moment, this was a game, that nobody won. And if nobody won, he sure as hell was not going to end up on the bottom of the pile. His responses, grew increasingly more platonic and cryptic, simple words delivering context with a finality about it."

- Freedom.

The first few days are the hardest. Then time begins to lapse, a blurred memory of evil, sighs become that of remembrance, and what would have been. Bruised but not broken. A lesson to learn from, for next time. 

The reality of it all - Legeriz 4

There comes a point where acceptance of the inevitable is a less painful alternative than continuing to fight a battle lost. You've experienced the very best and the very worst of a path that life could offer, and now you've reached a point where perhaps you end up feeling nothing at all. The truth is hardest to acknowledge, where pushing for something gives you the chance to relive the memories again, rather than let the dust settle and move on. It's done, things never worked out and we continued to be. 

It has been a while since I last keyed the point in my life where we had paused off. Perhaps it was something that I mentioned earlier, where I really only write when things aren't going the way I thought they would be. Drifting is a common emotion that I tend to channel, where we tend to experience a blur of moments, each day passing by as a second; as if we induced a rush to escape the moment. Distracted by all else, yet focused on one, it's quite amusing when you think of it. That we as people fail to recognise the speed of time until we reflect upon a chapter closing; then it all slows down. We hurt, embrace in the moment and then move on. Time speeds up. We're a blur again. 

The reality somehow never appealed to me. I was always a bit delusional with my view point of life, choosing to believe in the extraordinary. Defiance to common human problems was an addiction hard to beat, a chance to reflect upon as a higher power, one I feel stemmed towards megalomania rather than anything else. Hunger for the chance to be different, to not be burdened by how life could affect you. Yet we are human, and we can break. 

Controversial as this may seem, this limbo where currently my mentality exists, is quite comfortable. Think of it as a weightless experience, ethereal yet grounded. There is no significant influence on my life at this point and I remain unshackled by the opinions of others. The hardest part going forward will be to leave this place. To give in to temptation and will yourself to connect on a celestial level with someone who you find worthy. I suppose, there lies to beauty of it. The unknown has a lot to offer, but only time will decide when to invoke it. Till then I wait, a blur again as we continue to be.

The Traveller

The luminous aura of the fading sunset dipped into the shadows of the mountains as Larxan gave one final look to the scenic valley that now stood below him. There wouldn't be many travellers on this road after nightfall and the village that he had called home for the past 25 years grew silent, smoke trickling from the fires of hungry workers coming back to their families.

Greyback, his steed and companion for the last 3 years grew restless, his owner seemed unable to carry out the journey that had been planned for months. The master sighed and tugged his reins, pulling them forward into the cracked road that would be their path for the night. It had been years since he had been called to service but such was the life Larxan had chosen. Solitude and skill were two words that over the years had been brain washed into him and the 4 other souls like him. He dug his shoes into the side of Greyback's saddle, urging him to make haste for their mission was one of essence. The horse shifted from a stride to gallop, the fields blurring past them as the night swallowed the hills into darkness.

It would be midnight by the time they stopped, the aura of moonlight lighting their path to a grove where they would break for the day. Larxan unfastened the heavy saddle as his horse neighed a sign of relief, beginning to unpack the make-shift camp; light weaved through the thick redwood branches creating a spectral-light appearance. Flints were produced, and  a small fire heated the pair's meagre dinner. The chill began to settle as Larxan wrapped his weather-worn cloak around him, nestled close to the burning embers that grew whiter in the night. The sound of shuffled footsteps drew near.

The figure approached, taller than most, his shrouded face slowly unveiled by the now white hot ash of the previously roaring fire. The man gestured to the ground next to Larxan, indicative of sharing the space for the night; Larxan scowled but relented, offering the man the remnants of Greyback's meal. The stranger broke into a crooked smile, his wrinkled face excited by the prospect of food. "Crodeus", the man barked, before wolfing down the meal.

"Haven't met too many travellers on this path of late", Crodeus grunted, focused on consuming the scrap of foods now lodged between his grimy nails, "City folk mainly take the road past Harshmollow Creek to avoid the wolves that roam these parts". "That's a fine beast you have there", he motioned to Greyback who clearly seemed feral to the newcomer; "Bet he'd fetch a pretty penny over in Sardonia".

"Is that so?" Larxan questioned,  ignoring the latter comment and speaking for the first time since the two met, "And then where do you fit in?", his voice unforgiving in the night air. The stranger seemed not to take offence and prattled on, pleased in his own mind that this fool had stopped, already envisioning the gold he'd receive for Greyback after plundering the person who offered him his meal. "I am what you would call an acquirer, I take what is owed to me". He motioned Larxan to the glistening dagger that was neatly hidden in his robe fold.

Larxan seemed unperturbed by the weapon,"People are always fighting for what is not. Wars fought for land that belonged to others, blood shed for women and gold, champions battling to defend their title. There was a time when good and evil attacked with honour. Virtue held in the days of old. Time has changed sadly; there are those like you, parasites who prey on weak and scavenge the good", his voice held steady despite the rapid pace of delivery. The man with the dagger seemed irked, word stung more than blades. A broken smile appeared on his scarred face momentarily as he lunged at Larxan.

A glimpse of silver was all the warning that Crodeus was given before 12 inches of steel burrowed through his jaw killing him instantly. The man was dead before he collapsed onto the ground, blood darkening the earth, soaking into the grass now wet with dew. Larxan unhinged his blade from the figure, wiping it down on the wet grass before attaching his saddle. The horse seemed indifferent by the deadman, a sight that had been common over the years he had been with Larxan.

It was cold now, the fog swallowing the two as they drifted into the distance leaving behind the man that had been alive only moments before. A cloak preserved the now motionless body as a single note lay arched onto it. Figures shifted in the bushes, their paws wet from the mountain run, hungry for the dinner that had been provided. The moonlight glistened softly, shedding light onto the viscous ruby blood, as the letters on the parchment began to glow...