The Citadel Chronicles

[Namariel]

Long gone are the heroes of the old days.
This is the present. This is now.
A storm is brewing and darkness is awaiting.

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/End+Titles/puZSm <--- Prologue Music/Mood

Prologue:

I always found myself drawn to humans through the tales derived from the books of the great library. Many a time I would sit reading intently after nightfall, while the rain fell on the petals of our beloved oak. My mind would conjure images and childhood fantasies of knights riding horses, farm houses with smoking chimneys and not to forget, the strange creatures defined as cows or indeed the very nature of pigs; left me both pussled and hungry for more knowledge concerning humans and their quirky culture.

My questions were many and I must have asked them countless of times to my teacher and mentor Melonin. "How come they sleep? How old can a human get? Why do humans die of old age? Do they see in the dark like we do, when the hour of the Wolf draws near?" And so on and so forth.

It was a child's fascination with the unknown and it was a period of wonder and awe. An age that every living being in the world must walk through to learn and experience, to grow and understand. Indeed, to look through the eyes of a child one more time, to perceive the unbiased objectivity, the very essence of life and hence the simplicity of it all, must be a blessing from the Gods and the highest of gifts they could ever bestow. In that regard I have come to realise over the years of study and in my journeys, that we all are much alike in the end.

In many ways, I wish I could go back and experience it all again. And yet my heart knows it to be folly to even think such naive thoughts. My feet have carried me elsewhere and my mind now knows the patterns of magic both beautiful and helpful, harmful and foreboding; How could I ever become that child I once was, with the knowledge I now hold in my spirit and gathered beliefs.

No, I must remain Arry to these humans until my strength has recovered. And perhaps Arry the girl can accomplish what Namariel cannot. All I can do is hope for a better tomorrow. And trust that the childhood memories in my companions still echoes with the simplicity of life itself.

Echoes with the unmistakeable fragrance of a mother's warm embrace....

Namariel Delaquente, Caer

[Aglet Blacksoul]

Wow, that is some fantastic writing! I look forward for more to come.

[Wired]

Strong second post, can't wait to see more.

[izzul]

very good writing...nice to see more and more talented people...

[Namariel]

Chapter One - The Bond, Child's play, Madman's Ramblings

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/Rituals/2pAoWV <--- Mood for The Bond

Rian. My beloved, my friend in times of need and sorrow. Many have been the moments when you cared for me, nurtured me and held me in your warm embrace. You and you alone took me in, when my kin seemed distant with grief and fear from the growing struggle with the humans. And when night falls and the stars shines brightly, you are the reason I doubt my decision of leaving. Because in the end. You always were my father and mother, uncle and aunt. An elder brother to show me the wrongness of my ways and a smaller sister to care for, when hurt. Rian, you will always be in my heart and soul, to the ending of the world... Or my life.

A long time ago...

A pale moonlight filled the small grove. Outlined and ranked by darkened trees caught in shadow and mist; leaving the rest of the massive forest looming above and beyond like a black ocean, deep and far stretching. It was a night of silence, like the forest itself was sleeping, awaiting dawn and a rekindled hope for life. No bird's chirped in the thickets nor was there any signs of animals or creatures in the underbrush. The wind had died hours before, making the trees, branches and leaves seemingly dead to the wary eye. Nothing stirred.

Except for a slow tuned whisper, that lay barely audible above the stillness of the air. Travelling across the roots, and the dark tendrils of the wooden rooftop of the forest. It was like the sound of breathing, slowly and melodic in nature yet with an omnient depth at its core. Neither speech or song could compare to the whispering. It simply existed.

A tiny singular candle suddenly appeared between the gnarled and moss covered roots of two of the larger trees' and like ancient guardians of old they moved aside with only the slightest of sound, a feat imagined not possible by such a large force of strength. Yet their efforts could only be heard as the breaking of smaller branches and the shuffling of leaves in the otherwise silent grove.

Another candle appeared, then another, until a single line formed in succesion. Shiny pearls on a string in the encompassing darkness of night they flickered, as they moved into the clearing's outlining tree wall. For the slightest of moments, the line of candles went still from movement and then, ever so slowly spread out, left and right they went, dividing into two lines of flickering and dancing light.

Cloaked in hoods and robes of white and silver, figures appeared from the shadows of the surrounding trees. Holding larger thickened candles in both hands - resting on a a base made of simple wood in the shape of a deepened dish, they moved closer to eachother; forming a close knit circle at the center of the grove. For a moment they looked like unmoving statues of marble and stone, their candles and thus their small candle's fire, burning and caressing the wax with it's touch, feeding its own endless hunger.

And then the agonized screams of a woman began.

[Namariel]

Part one of chapter one heavily edited and spot saved for second part.

[Cythis]

I think I need to put intro music now to my stories. Nice writing.

[Roser]

You can really paint a vivid picture. I look forward to your posts. They are extremely easy to read as well as just long enough to make your point. Nice work!

[Aglet Blacksoul]

superb!