Introductions

Hi, I'm Xanthurian (for relevant purposes). I am a new author of this blog, and thought I might introduce myself... I will start by writing most Wednesdays (Reogan gave me this Tuesday to introduce myself). Most of my posts will be my new story (story four) for now... I will welcome comments on my work (that's what a blog's for anyway, isn't it?)... I think that's it...

A Lapenian Tale

I vas not alvays from Lapenia. I vas born in Czechland. Is good land, but Russia come. Ve need leave. I vas but child; not understand. Ve leave big farm vith peegs and cows and cheekins and come to Lapenia.
At border zey ask "Vhy come to Lapenia? No one come to Lapenia. Everyvun leaf."
Father say "Is Russia. Zey haff come to Czechland."
Border guard nods, "Is happen much. You can stay here."
It cost all monies, but ve get farm. Ve haff two acres, and peeg. Peeg vas good. I call him Ivan. He vas only friend all childhood.
Ve kill him zhat vinter. Ve keep some, but sell much meats to town. Vas good sales, but government take most monies, and ve only get cheekins next year.
Cheekins made eggs, and tveve eggs vere verth crown each. Ve save crowns and use zhem next year.
Ze years after vere hard, but good monies vere saved secretly. Vhen government send father to death in war, he show me monies. Say "Ve keep these from all years. Use to farm."
Vhen he vas killed, I left farm. Vent to south, and started new farm. Try to sell old farm, but government take it. Is not good time.
But I had money, and I bought farm vith two cows, six peegs and four cheekin. Zee rest went to dowry for wife, Ghieri.
Wife is not good. She live for year and give only daughter.
Daughter like wife. Is fat and lazy. She eat but never stop wanting more. I try to marry her avay, but no one wants.
Even Cheski refused. Cheski is like daughter. Is fat and lazy. Sits at bar. All day drinks. Vodka take farm. Vodka take wife. Cheski still drink.
...
I not say zhat if anyone ask. Cheski is fool, but he is big. Is like ox.

Some day I leaf here. Go to America.

Vithout daughter.

Seven Cities: Prologue

The door creaked open, letting a ray of light into the long-dark room. The room's occupant made no sign that he noticed. When the man entered the room, shoes clicking against the icy tile, he found it suddenly hard to breathe. He continued nonetheless, and sat at the table opposite the prisoner.
"It finally happened." he said.
The prisoner didn't move.
"You were-" he swallowed, "You were right."
The prisoner didn't move.
"I'm going against regulations coming here, you know. But if you can stop it-" he stopped as the creature seated across from him opened his eyes
Release me.
"If you help us, we could possibly arrange something." The man was sweating now. It felt like that voice pierced his mind.
You lie.
"I promise that if you-"
All words are meaningless without action. You have nothing to give me. You are dismissed.
Suddenly it seemed as if all of the man's skin was melting in the fires of hell. He ran from the room, which locked behind him.
In an hour he was two states away.

Pursuit

I had been rationalizing for weeks, telling myself that what I was about to do was necessary, even right. The man was an utter fool! I knew that the Knights of the Golden Circle needed to survive, and this was the only way to do it.

I had to kill him.

I would be one of the most famous men in history. How many people assasinate presidents, let alone successfully? I'd be honored as the man that took down the man that was responsible for our ruined land, economy, and livelihood!

I waited for the laughter to reach a crescendo--I'd heard the man's wife was a rather high-strung woman, and a gunshot would only cause her to panic and interrupt my escape.

*gunshot*

I had started out in pursuit of him, and now they were all in pursuit of me.

"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of those who threaten it." Billboard.

Dream

The pool was clear and calm. Carved from the rock, it gave the water a healthy green tinge. The temperature gave no cause for complaint. We simply floated, talking and laughing.
Then, all at once, everything changed. They wanted to dive. I refused, but they pulled at me. I struggled away, and they swam off without me. I tried to swim back to where I had been, where on girl still waited, but I found myself caught in a current. Vainly I fought, gaining nothing.
"Help!" I cried. The girl looked at me with wide  eyes and slowly shook her head.
Knowing my fight to be useless, I surrendered. Instantly, I was whisked over the edge. I hung for a moment in the abyss, next to one other who had yet to fall. Below was the most beautiful pool I had ever seen. In the center, directly below me, was a spire of stone, covered in gigantic blossoms. Gravity began to take hold.
I closed my eyes.

Lief

Lief grimaced at the feel of plaster beneath his fingers.It didn't matter, though. What mattered was the clock. Sitting quietly in the wall, undisturbed for who knows how long, the ornate timepiece gleamed in the window's light.
What window? The room had been inescapable a moment ago, and now the window was back. Turning, Lief saw the door was too. He moved from the wall and reached for the handle. Something stayed his hand. The portal was somehow menacing, and loathe though he was to turn his back on it, Lief returned to his work.
The clock was off. Three hands made their patient way about it's face, one backwards, while a fourth ticked the seconds away. Below that, two tiny doors sat between two bronze openings, each about the size of a chestnut.
They've reached the stairway. 
Lief stared at the clock, pondering its mystery, while time ticked mercilessly away.
 

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Twenty-Three, Part Two

The sodden script fell wetly into his palm. Red looked at the spearow, which remained still as a statue, watching him with those unnerving eyes. The boy quickly turned his attention back to the letter, rather than let himself be mesmerized. As he unrolled it, he found that the ink hadn't run, even in such weather. He began to read.

Pallet Waif,
I trust this missive finds you and your aqueous associate well.  

At this, Red paused. His life, lived entirely after the Upheaval, had left him prepared for many things, but flowery language was not one of them. Of course the old man was referring to Nyoromo, but 'aqueous'? Was that some form of compliment? Sighing, Red looked again at the parchment.

The storms of the previous night, both stellar and terrestrial, made no lasting impact on my being. That is to say, despite a renewed battle with rheumatism, I am otherwise whole. 
Surviving too is Zume, my avian friend who has agreed to deliver this to you. Think not that I care nothing for your health. I merely assume that if you are reading this, you have survived unhurt.
Our current welfares aside, I think it appropriate that we address the meat of the matter. You braved the Lesser Forest to reach Viridian (may it find revival). Clearly you exhibit the spirit of an explorer. Allow me to suggest the next destination in your journey. Pewter City, if it still exists, would be the nearest bastion of human civilization, excepting Pallet, of course. Not only logical, the progression from Viridian to Pewter would mirror the journey taken by many in those years now lost to us. 
The route to the north, where Pewter lies, is a perilous one, though. For in its center grows the Old Wood- the trees from which all of Viridian Forest sprang. If what you passed through was dangerous, than these arborous ancients hide catastrophe. 
Celadon City is, in truth, nearer than Pewter, but to reach it on must traverse the Digda range- treacherous ground. So upset by years of burrowing are the rocks, that but a step can upset them and cause avalanche. It was a feat in my youth, when the pokémon themselves were no threat.
Thus it is to Pewter you shall go. While you will face terrors, I'm sure, the journey is not equatable with suicide as is the case with Celadon. I shall keep in contact with you by way of Zume. Fare well.


With hope,
(Here the signature was so wiry and expansive, Red couldn't begin to read it)


Post Script: Avoid the west. Strange storms brew on the Plateau. 

Red sat back, thinking. Pewter seemed a sensible destination, but the Old Wood worried him. Yet what choice was there? A return to Pallet was out of the question; with no spoils he had no right. The forest he had passed through surely held Green, and was therefore possibly more dangerous than the north.
As he thought, he watched Nyoromo, who had squirmed his way to freedom, and was waddling around Zume. The tiny thing was bubbling slightly, and kept repeating a friendly "Poli!" Zume, however, merely preened. When the poliwag came too near for its liking, it thrust its foot - Spearow apparently do kick - and knocked Nyoromo to the ground. The pokémon's large eyes fell on Red, who looked back as it squirmed.
"Wag?" asked Nyoromo
"Alright. Pewter it is." sighed a defeated Red. After a fruitless search to find a way to write a reply, he opted to tie a scrap of cloth from his already ruined bag to Zume. Almost before he finished, the bird made a single powerful flap to become airborne, a second to turn, and a third to vanish from sight.
Red watched it leave, wishing he could travel so quickly. Turning, he gazed up to where the cliff vanished from sight. The wall would be slippery, and he could barely see it. But the light, which had been steady for some time, could only fade as day wore to night.
"No time like the present." he muttered as he scooped Nyoromo back into his improvised pack and began to climb.

Sonnet XV "Breath"

Of gold was life, of silver Man,
Who, born of life, was veined with gold.
Electrum beings the world began
With onyx brushstrokes ever bold.
The opal Art soon found it's form
In diamond studded filigree
With Music's breath in rubies warm
And Lingual em'ralds strong and free.
The gold soon flowed in Lapis cries
Of babies born in topaz hue
With sapphire trust, for no disguise
Of coal was yet to shroud untrue.
The shining gems of all the good
Shine now and ever as they should.

Sonnet XIV "Redemption"

Misled by sin, Man slew his god,
Who in his grace allowed this pride.
The child spoilt destroyed its rod
And maker, cheering as he died.
No hellflame rose, no cleansing flood,
Not damning curse condemned a soul.
The price for spilling out the blood
Was naught but yielding of control.
With Man his king, there was no good,
And evil, too, was in its grave.
And all could act how e'er they would
And all chose always to behave.
The shackles of divinity
No longer bound humanity.

Sonnet XIII "Desperation"

Companions bolt on Worldfel Eve
While bleeding storms wage war above,
And fiends of envy rise to reave
The hollow shades of yesterlove.
Come! Now while dawning light is yet
A lingering at vision's edge,
While all about the Once forget,
Come leap and fly from off the ledge
Of pitiful humanity-
It's muddied hopes and broken dreams
The shattered corpse of vanity-
To where the shine of savior gleams.
And if 'tis true the last ray died
Then of the lot but we two tried.

Ryan

Ryan's vision slowly focused, and he found himself in a small, windowless room. It was bare but for a bed placed haphazardly in the center. Its tenant, a wrinkled old man, slowly opened his gummed eyes and focused on the young God.
"So," he said hoarsely, "This is it then."
He's dying, thought Ryan, Alone.
"Lord knows I've been ready." croaked the ancient. "Take me up in your arms or give-" He coughed wetly. "Or give me my wings or whatever it is you do."
How? Ryan stepped forward nevertheless and, after a moment's hesitation, laid his hands over the elder. He did everything he thought could help, from just willing it to be done to trying to reach out and take the man's soul.
Nothing worked. Looking at the pitiful being before him, Ryan found himself wishing a new petition would simply spirit him away from the sickroom. Soon enough, one did. The man's cries reached him as he faded.
"No! Don't leave me, please! Take me with you!"