Let’s Start Again Shall We?

 

     

This is only a writing exercise. One to help me strengthen my bond with both the written word and you, my reader. See I’ve slacked off a bit recently, and for good reason. That’s something I won’t go into right now as I have more important things to focus on. This isn’t about my illness or what is gnawing at my sanity. Instead I want to just talk about one thing:

 

The power of the written word. It’s become apparent that the more I write the more my words gain strength. With just the tap of a few keys I have a grip on you. You’re future is in my hands, at least while you stare at my words. You may think you have free will but do you really? 

 

If i were to tell you something right now you would be lost in that world, Much like Velaria while she trudged down a putrid street, her boots gripping to the mud adding weight to each step while people sleep around her. Weathered stone buildings loomed largely over her. From on top of the arches and towers, intricately carved gargoyles sat, holding back their insatiable appetite, lips pulled taut revealing stony fangs. Fresh rain washed over their faces making them appear to drool in anticipation. 

 

Did you hear that noise? Of course not. You were engrossed in my words. They took you where I wanted them to. Now you can always stop reading. Really that’s up to you. But something deep down inside you is digging in, telling you to stay, and push forward. Not to turn around and see where that noise might have come from. In this moment this is what matters. 

 

You want me to open that door back up for you.  Even if it’s just to see through the crack. So I’ll oblige. For you see, Velaria was on a mission. Her heart pounded the closer she got to the temple. It’s colors broke from the plaid world around her. Flames licked at the orange and yellow tapestries that hung on either side of a broad entryway. It was warm and inviting, yet an air of menace clung to its very walls. Velaria would rather face the demons on the walls come to life than continue, but like you dear reader she was being compelled by words. 

“Come inside.” a quivering voice’s words beckoned. But there was no one around to speak them.

 

Did you hear it that time, or were you too busy trying to get past that door? I sincerely hope you didn’t. If you did, I am sorry. It means that I’ve not worked hard enough. But I can tell you are still safe and sound in the warm embrace of my cadence. In fact that is exactly where i need you. It knows me well. It hides behind me even as I type this. My ears are singing with its thoughts. So let me take you back.

 

“Can you feel it,” a man in purple cloth robes asked.

 

Velaria pushed the pain aside, even as the warmth of fresh blood pooled inside her pocket. “Yes, it’s strong.”

 

“It is alright child, here you are safe to pray. Please come in.” a bell jingled on his robe in rhythm with each stride. 

Inside the atmosphere was heavy. Fresh lavender pushed away the wretched smell of the town outside. A feast lined the tables and behind it, a dark blanket draped over an ash covered iron slab. The deposits seemed fresh, and at its base burn marks showed where the flames had tried to push away. 

 

Velaria hesitated. Should she really be here? This had to be done. But she wanted a way out. 

As do you at this point. Here’s the thing though, you are at my mercy as she is. You can say why would she do that, or why is she going there? You may even want to know more about the city or what’s behind the slab, but I choose what you know now. You want more and I’m your source. Protest all you like. This is where it is headed. And that thing behind you knows it too. It’s stuck watching and waiting like you. You haven’t felt its chilling touch. When you do, trust me when i say, it is invigorating. You’re not ready yet though. Instead let us continue further. 

 

The man, now fully lit by the brilliant fire roaring at the center of the room stared at her. A long claw mark accentuated his age worn skin. “First you must make the offering, then we eat. From there you will get what you are after should you be pure of heart. “

 

Velaria walked decisively, being aware to hide her body’s tremors of pain. She closed her eyes. 

 

“It is time.” it was that same voice she had been following for days now. This time it seemed less scared and more confident, almost arrogant. 

 

Velaria could feel it cutting to her core. Even the pain washed away in that moment. She opened her hand over the flame and her pale finger fell in. from the wood, a white light grew. 

 

“What are you doing,” the old man hissed. “You have soiled the sacred flame! Brothers come to…”

An invisible hand grab Velaria’s. She looked down at where the blood had been, only now to find a ruddy blade. Never thinking, she plunged it into the man’s chest. He gasped for air. The bell rang wildly as he tried to do anything to survive, but again the blade struck at him piercing his side. Unable to cry, he crumpled to the floor mouthing something indistinguishable. His body thrashed as she took another swing. 

 

The bell silenced.

 

“Ahh, that’s better,” the voice once again spoke, now it seemed almost giddy. 

 

Is this what you wanted? When you started reading, was your mind expecting this? I can tell you that mine only even vaguely knew, but that thing behind me, I saw it, and in its eyes the story played out bit by bit. All I can do is share it with you. 

 

One word after another the picture grows, and here you are still glued to the screen. I could stop now, but what fun would that be? I’m enjoying this little exercise of ours. I might as well continue. 

 

“Let me free.” This time the voice had a source. It came from the slab. 

 

Velaria approached, and touched the cloth. A force not her own pulled it down from before her. 

 

embedded in the iron a face with seven eyes, and a broken jaw tried to smile. The sharp outline of bones protrude through the stretched skin. Graying amber hair draped down and disappeared inside the tomb. There was no body to be seen. “Feed me.” 

 

In the distance, a chorus of bells chimed, alongside sloshing foot steps.

 

“Hurry, do it now.”

 

Velaria had no choice. She picked up the roasted turkey leg from the table and placed it into the mouth. 

 

The broken teeth gnawed at it, tearing it into shreds, some landing on the floor, other chunks disappearing. 

 

“Finally!”

 

The room shook violently, throwing Velaria to the ground. The bells stopped beside her. All the men’s faces twisted in horror. The Iron cracked and moaned, then cracked. The men beside her turned to ash. 

 

It seems the time has come, reader. This is where I must leave you, hanging on to the cusp as my words run out. You’re ready now. Your brain is turning. While you were distracted I let it in. you are now in its graces. The muse is yours. Let it guide your words. Use it to find your own story.