Monorus' Writings
Like Marius, I too prefer writing at night. here is one of the results of one of those nightly sittings. ( and lookout, this one aint too cheery) so, enjoy. let me know if you can think of a title! ^_^
( you may want to turn off the music, depending on what kind of reader you are.)
Thursday, 3; Year X Month X;
As I sit here in the silence of my room, my heart beats swiftly. I look about my quarters, everything seams in place. The walls of stone are covered in dust, not disturbed for several weeks, my large Canopy bed is unmade, the blankets a mess, the pillows spread all through it.
Some of the velvet blue curtains closed, the yellow holding ropes hanging on the side, some of the curtains open, the ropes partially dragging on the floor. The candle to which I write is burning low, as always at this time of night, the wax slowly running down the holder onto the old wooden table. My book case is where it has always been since I moved into this tower, right beside the large window to the north. There are books and scrolls scattered all around it on the deer skin rug, which is folded in many places. I have not cleaned in here for a long time. I sit on the three-legged stool in front of the table, both of heavy oak wood, cracked and ringed. There are papers and several ink bottles as well as an old book in front of me, all in the usual disarray as they always are. But yet something is not right... I do not recall the past days clearly, for they all seam like a blur. Having hardly slept in the past weeks has left me fatigued, and irritable. I fall asleep only at dawn, and awaken several hours later to the full light of the sun, shining in through the door that leads to my small balcony, the sound of a group of people under my window. I would go out and look over the castle walls into the valleys, a small hamlet here and there, people busily on their way to the market place only a few minutes walk from my living quarters. As I stand on the balcony a wind will pick up my long hair and blow it in my face until I re-arrange it so it blows behind my head. I would look down over the vine covered railings onto the crowd, and mayhap pick out a familiar face before I return inside, closing the door, locking out the sounds of the streets below. A servant would come up to bring me food, perhaps news, or conversation , if I felt in the mood for it.
Now the candle has died, but the moon has broken through the clouds. It is full, dipping the night sky into a blue-blackish color, casting shadows on the clouds and valleys. A slight wind blows over the grass, and through the silence I can hear it moving. It is at time like this that I realize how withdrawn I have become... my friends have tried to help me get over whatever has been troubling me, but until I know what it is I find it impossible. My room is suddenly cold. I draw my cape around myself tighter, to warm myself. I can feel that I am not alone any longer-
There is something in here with me! I can feel it’s cold eyes burning into my back, like two rays of ice, chilling me to the bone. My breath grows shorter and ragged, my heart beating faster, every hair on my body standing up. My hand instinctively goes for my sword, only to find the dagger I carry since the loss of my blade. Still silence, my heartbeat sounding like drums in my ears, adrenaline racing through me. Yet I still remain seated, without moving. I catch a slight motion in the shadows out of the corner of my eye, something detaching itself from the dark. A shadow is now visible, Identical to my own. Now a strong wind picks up the shadows and my hair, blinding me with my locks. Then, as there is a metallic "clang" on my stone floor, I can not stand it any longer, spinning around, the previous emptiness replaced with sheer terror at what I might find.
But there is nothing, only emptiness and an open balcony door.
As I walk to the balcony I nearly staggered over a hilt, the hilt of a broken sword.- My sword
As I look into the streets below I see a man, wrapped in a cape disappearing into the night, snow white hair waving in the breeze. I am too dazed to follow. Could it have been... no, surely not. It was impossible. But still I heard myself whisper his name, in a hoarse voice.
Friday ,4; Year X Month X;
After the events of last night I finally slept. For some odd reason the emptiness that had seized me has disappeared. I am again the man I was before the final battle had taken place. I should be horrified by the fact that he still may be out there, but for some reason it has given me back my spirit, and taken the darkness that has been upon me away. One day, I shall find him. But until then I have other duties. Now if you would excuse me, I have spent more than enough time in these four oval walls, and believe it is time to reclaim my place among the living, and those dear to me, whom I have neglected far to long.
- Janus- a et Ohrie
- written by Monorus