Weylin the Stable Boy, Epilogue
It was only a couple days later that Weylin was back in the stables, tending to the horses as he always did. Ixia had wanted to go see him right away, but Amaranth Larkspur made certain that she was too occupied and that someone always had an eye on her so that she could hardly even leave her own room. Eventually, the girlÂ’s mentor, the wizard Ildlar Grent, spoke up for her and stated that the magelet needed some space and some fresh air, and that she should be allowed to see her horses.
For about an hour, Ixia only quietly watched the stable boy as he went about his daily routine. He was silent. And listless. The job was still performed with skill and perfection, the horses would not suffer, but he lacked his usual life. That obvious joy in what he did.
She had made no attempt to hide herself, and she was certain Weylin knew she was there, but he made no effort to speak with her. Ixia did not entirely blame him. Gathering her courage, she shuffled forward to try to help the young man carry a bucket filled with grain. He merely jerked and hurried away.
Ixia bit her lip in despair, and quickly followed behind him.
Still he said nothing, and the petite redhead did not try to help him again. For two more hours they were quiet, and Ixia just followed the blonde around the stable as he did his work, staying close but out of the way. What could she do? What could she say? Asking him if he was all right would have been foolish and stupid, because he was not all right. And she knew he would not accept an apology for something she had not done.
The boy was hurt, and humiliated. And though she had not wanted it, though she had not even been aware of it until it was too late - she was the reason it had happened.
“Weylin, I-” Her voice cracked as she finally tried to speak, tried to say something, though she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say. Weylin cut her off.
“Save it, Lady,” he snapped, his tone harsh. His usual title for her did not hold its same teasing mirth. He did not even look at her. “Save it. Go home, Miss Larkspur. Go away.”
In the years that followed, never once did he say another word to her.
.
Ixia Larkspur
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*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Coming Clean
walking an empty road
on my own
alone
clutching most grimly
a need to come
clean
deaf ears
deaf ears
and no more tears
because
no water can wash
this away. now
remember fires blistering
that no water can
wash away, now
a need to come
clean
stealing a moment
to never forget
never lament
these fears
these fears
there's no use for tears
because
no water can wash
this away, now
a need to come
clean
.
walking an empty road
on my own
alone
clutching most grimly
a need to come
clean
deaf ears
deaf ears
and no more tears
because
no water can wash
this away. now
remember fires blistering
that no water can
wash away, now
a need to come
clean
stealing a moment
to never forget
never lament
these fears
these fears
there's no use for tears
because
no water can wash
this away, now
a need to come
clean
.
-
*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Call it Justice
All in all, the all will fall
for treachery, for tyranny, for terror.
All in all, even the small
will pay for kindredÂ’s error.
She dreamtÂ…
He was taller than any other elf she had seen before. Tall and blonde. He smiled. Was it kind? Cruel? Condescending? She couldnÂ’t quite tell at this point.
He held out a hand - numbers, letters, and runes flickered in and out of sight in his palm. It was an offering of knowledge, but casually handed out. As though it didnÂ’t mean a thing.
“We are superior… lesser races… the Empire, my dear…”
Broken words, he said.
The Empire.
Conquering.
Enslaving.
Wrong? Yes, yes.
“Do you giftwrap?”
Her own voice. What an odd question, so out of place. But he smiles, and ribbons float out from nothingness to tie up her hands.
Her hands!
“My dear…”
He says, as two dark arms reach for his throat. Lithe, but muscled arms, skin nearly black. They clutch at his throat. Claw.
He screams.
That smile, it had been kind, hadnÂ’t it? If a little pitying. He wasnÂ’t smiling now.
His throat was gone, but there was no blood.
Those dark arms turned on her. They tore the ribbons from her hands, and then embraced her.
Too tight.
She struggled.
She couldnÂ’t breath.
She awoke, startled and wide-eyed. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her throat was caught, she still felt strangled, even in waking. She writhed and squirmed, tears pouring down her cheeks, wetting her hair and pillows. It wasnÂ’t until she slammed her wrist into the corner of her bedstand that she could finally gasp in a loud and hoarse breath.
She quickly buried her head under her pillow to muffle any other sounds she might make.
If IÂ’m to say who faults and errs,
and when I become unable to see
the line between right and wrong
promise me that weÂ’ll simplyÂ…
Call it Justice.
.
All in all, the all will fall
for treachery, for tyranny, for terror.
All in all, even the small
will pay for kindredÂ’s error.
She dreamtÂ…
He was taller than any other elf she had seen before. Tall and blonde. He smiled. Was it kind? Cruel? Condescending? She couldnÂ’t quite tell at this point.
He held out a hand - numbers, letters, and runes flickered in and out of sight in his palm. It was an offering of knowledge, but casually handed out. As though it didnÂ’t mean a thing.
“We are superior… lesser races… the Empire, my dear…”
Broken words, he said.
The Empire.
Conquering.
Enslaving.
Wrong? Yes, yes.
“Do you giftwrap?”
Her own voice. What an odd question, so out of place. But he smiles, and ribbons float out from nothingness to tie up her hands.
Her hands!
“My dear…”
He says, as two dark arms reach for his throat. Lithe, but muscled arms, skin nearly black. They clutch at his throat. Claw.
He screams.
That smile, it had been kind, hadnÂ’t it? If a little pitying. He wasnÂ’t smiling now.
His throat was gone, but there was no blood.
Those dark arms turned on her. They tore the ribbons from her hands, and then embraced her.
Too tight.
She struggled.
She couldnÂ’t breath.
She awoke, startled and wide-eyed. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her throat was caught, she still felt strangled, even in waking. She writhed and squirmed, tears pouring down her cheeks, wetting her hair and pillows. It wasnÂ’t until she slammed her wrist into the corner of her bedstand that she could finally gasp in a loud and hoarse breath.
She quickly buried her head under her pillow to muffle any other sounds she might make.
If IÂ’m to say who faults and errs,
and when I become unable to see
the line between right and wrong
promise me that weÂ’ll simplyÂ…
Call it Justice.
.
-
*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The Pursuit of Happiness
Though they may be small and tired and shaken,
I have gone and tied my own hands to the wheel,
because
itÂ’s about time I protect what I want and need and feel.
(this timeÂ…)
This is about never letting them stop me -
the power to hold onto whatÂ’s considered mine
may
mean stepping on somebody else this time.
(I canÂ’t walk away.)
If you never try, how will you ever know
if what you want isnÂ’t really what you need
and
the pursuit of happiness isnÂ’t all about greed?
(this timeÂ…)
Love,
this time,
just this once,
a laugh and a
smile and promise
I wonÂ’t let you fall this
time, I swear I will hold on
this time, you will always be safe
even if you cannot understand,
even if I have to hurt you, this time.
This time, you must believe me when I confess
that this is my only hope for the hopeless
and
the pursuit of happiness.
.
Though they may be small and tired and shaken,
I have gone and tied my own hands to the wheel,
because
itÂ’s about time I protect what I want and need and feel.
(this timeÂ…)
This is about never letting them stop me -
the power to hold onto whatÂ’s considered mine
may
mean stepping on somebody else this time.
(I canÂ’t walk away.)
If you never try, how will you ever know
if what you want isnÂ’t really what you need
and
the pursuit of happiness isnÂ’t all about greed?
(this timeÂ…)
Love,
this time,
just this once,
a laugh and a
smile and promise
I wonÂ’t let you fall this
time, I swear I will hold on
this time, you will always be safe
even if you cannot understand,
even if I have to hurt you, this time.
This time, you must believe me when I confess
that this is my only hope for the hopeless
and
the pursuit of happiness.
.
-
*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
It may be confusing
that revenge is sweet,
yet loyalties lie
where mercy meets.
It's an utter defeat
the perfect murder chose...
And bravery is as far as fearless goes.
that revenge is sweet,
yet loyalties lie
where mercy meets.
It's an utter defeat
the perfect murder chose...
And bravery is as far as fearless goes.
-
*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
To everyone else that could possibly be bleeding...
The rhythmic clockwork that made up the most vital parts of her old mentor. Cold, grinding gears where a human should be its softest and warmestÂ… masked by worn, wrinkled flesh and a smiling, familiar face. The things they spoke about were typical, and as though nothing had ever happened and they were still mentor and student, merely concluding a particularly long and twisted lesson. They spoke over wine and juice.
Romanticized thought had long brought people to intrinsically believe that the heart was where all love and compassion originated. Ixia knew that such emotions were generated through the mind - the brain. She knew it and she would argue it fervently, as she always argued things she thought to be true. However, a small part of herÂ… the tiny, impractical and starry-eyed part of her that most people tend to keep buriedÂ… couldnÂ’t help but wonder if something was missing. If metal and methodical movement could make up the same man that had been a steady, paternal figure.
Adoration for a child taking her first, clumsy steps into an unknown world. Sympathy for a kindred soul. Generosity for someone never quite given enough. Compassion, when the unbearable buzz of life requires a moment to slow down and just enjoy something simple. A child will always lay its head on its motherÂ’s chest, where it is soft and warm and one can hear the calming beat of a loved-oneÂ’s heart. Could this intangible heart still be found amidst the systematic whir and tick-tick-ticking of an old and weary chest?
.
The rhythmic clockwork that made up the most vital parts of her old mentor. Cold, grinding gears where a human should be its softest and warmestÂ… masked by worn, wrinkled flesh and a smiling, familiar face. The things they spoke about were typical, and as though nothing had ever happened and they were still mentor and student, merely concluding a particularly long and twisted lesson. They spoke over wine and juice.
Romanticized thought had long brought people to intrinsically believe that the heart was where all love and compassion originated. Ixia knew that such emotions were generated through the mind - the brain. She knew it and she would argue it fervently, as she always argued things she thought to be true. However, a small part of herÂ… the tiny, impractical and starry-eyed part of her that most people tend to keep buriedÂ… couldnÂ’t help but wonder if something was missing. If metal and methodical movement could make up the same man that had been a steady, paternal figure.
Adoration for a child taking her first, clumsy steps into an unknown world. Sympathy for a kindred soul. Generosity for someone never quite given enough. Compassion, when the unbearable buzz of life requires a moment to slow down and just enjoy something simple. A child will always lay its head on its motherÂ’s chest, where it is soft and warm and one can hear the calming beat of a loved-oneÂ’s heart. Could this intangible heart still be found amidst the systematic whir and tick-tick-ticking of an old and weary chest?
.
-
*CheeseWedge
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
.
( NOTE: If anyone would like to offer feedback on my writing, feel free to PM me. It would be appreciated. =) )
( NOTE: If anyone would like to offer feedback on my writing, feel free to PM me. It would be appreciated. =) )