A New Beginning

Greetings all,

Welcome to my new (but very old) blog that has sat and fermented for quite some time (until I needed to use it once again). Those reading this probably know something about me, being in classes with me before, but I'll write a little about myself anyway: I'm a 4th year English major in Arts at UNBSJ (this blog being a part of my English: 3203 Restoration and 18th c Drama course that I'm taking), and hopefully, if all goes well, I'll be graduating in October by taking four intersession courses to get the required courseload for Arts. I have a large interest in English (obviously) but I have no definite plans for my future as of yet. I live in town, taking the bus to classes every day (except Tuesday, yay for me), and I live here with my girlfriend Karina (who is from Winnipeg).

I'm in the military (reserves, actually), and have been for about five years now - of course, with all that going on overseas, I'm putting my release forms in very soon (also because I plan to move to Winnipeg during the summer). I'm a very avid writer, not published yet, though I do so hope to be in the future - I actually post my writing on a roleplaying and fanfiction forum at GameFAQs (as per the link on the side). On that site I go by "Kalisto Myraid" or "In Ferro Veritas" both were/are accounts I have used for nearly seven years on the site. You can see my writing on the side bar as well, I have some works posted on an archive website run by a friend of mine: Untitled and Mors Tua... are both easily navigatable while Nightmares Recur is a little harder, as it has several people include in the story. The website they are hosted on is called Juryrigged run by a close friend of mine and has several other works by writers such as myself.

I'll leave this post basically neutral in regards to class, and I'll start writing things pertaining to classes after next weeks session. So, as for this post, I'm pretty much done introductions, and I'll leave off with a pretty morbid and gruesome piece of writing that I haven't posted anywhere else (although it's probably riddled with grammatical errors as I haven't looked it over in quite some time). Looking forward to hearing from you all, and I'll see you in class.

Emptiness

Blood. Scattered everywhere. Drops of crimson glistened in the pallid light like a thousand radiant garnets scattered across the pavement; blood - pooled at the feet of the necromancer, left falling in thin rivulets from the gaping wound in his chest. For a moment, he was too stunned to react. The blood smeared on his face made his calm, almost surreal expression, doubly unreal. He tried to move his arms, to cross his hands as he did instinctively; they fell limply by his side, streaked with crimson blood, and stayed that way as he slumped to a knee. His breath was a gurgle that watered the ground.

His entire left side was black and swollen; the sides of his wound gaped open like the mouth of a fish and it was possible to see the damp sheen of muscle and the sharp edge of a lower rib - both darkly discoloured, both smelling of decay. Sin. Disease. Death. The elf’s necromantic power seeped out from his wound. For a moment, the elf just stared at his surroundings, unable to respond. He was overwhelmed by utter helplessness. His thoughts became a whirlwind as he struggled to think clearly. He tried to remember how this meeting had come about, but he couldn't. His past had been void. His present was a sea of chaos. He couldn't focus.

His shoulders were trembling, the motion slight but eloquent; in all the years he had been alive, the elf had never been so defeated, never this close to losing it, but still holding onto the tiny strands of control he had left. He lifted his eyes to the sky, the fire already burned out of the clear blue. With unnatural grace, he stood once more and, for the last time, grinned - a glint of red upon his teeth.

"Quite a turn of events," the elf spoke in shallow words, in between short breaths. "It seems I am actually afraid to die, and having never really thought on it before," he admitted. "It's not my favourite emotion."

The elf hesitated, for the first time in his vast life. Hesitated to let go of the control he so dearly held within his vice grip. This had been the longest day of his life. He shivered in fear. Eternal sleep. He wanted it so desperately, and feared it with equal fervour. Dusk. Twilight. Nightfall. It didn't seem to matter here in these dark, cold streets. Slowly darkness came to him; hot darkness, desolate of comfort.And the room began to fade.

Slowly it began: at first like a tapestry that was frayed at the edges, then proceeded more rapidly, as if a child had been pulling the strings. The elf's sword shimmered where it lay, and then vanished. The ebony material of his cloak, lifeless upon the ground became a curtain that shrouded over his field of vision. He was dead weight now as his body had dropped lifeless to the ground.

He was cold now.

He tried to move his fingers. He couldn't.

Tried to feel his legs. Nothing.

The last gesture he made was a small glint in his eyes, those of someone giving up every single thing they had a hold over. And finally, with the last of his strength, the elf let go of it: power, control... everything.

And his finger twitched, just slightly.

Then nothing.