Hey, my name is Jess. I'm a 16 year old who goes to high school in a typical town. Only thing that is different is that I'm an online student. I went to in person school before and i loved it. I played many sports like basketball and i had my best friend Arlo. My best friend was actually just my best friend tell he asked me to a dance in sophomore year and i started having a little feeling. I day dream about him coming to see me, Think of this. I'm getting ready for the day and he knocks on the door. I'm confused because no one should be coming over. I answer it and its my best friend with flowers. He ask me to Prom. Junior prom isn't like senior prom but who cares its still prom. I hope he didn't forget about me though. We play games like trivia because i don't play sport games the consul. I think I'm going to go to sleep now. Someone is at the door? Is it him? OMG ARLO!! What are you doing? Of course i will say yes. *Dogs bark* Really it was a dream. Hey at least i know he cares about me in my dreams. Now I'm going to finish that dream goodnight.

I know the sky is blue and the grass is green. That light of day and night comes from stars, near and far. I hear the chatter of people. But in the dead of night, as my eyes plead to close. I tell myself a story. A story of green skies and blue grass. Of starless skies contrasted by electric lamps. Some tales of loneliness with some emptiness on the side. And the characters, from the big to the small. Not a detail is left out. Their wants and desires become my own. Their dreams of reaching the top of the sky make me want to fly. The urgent desire to run and survive. The way I jerk awake with every doze. The countless days passed of compiling these stories in my brain, hoping and praying not to forget. The half-finished titles of legends. I wish sleep grasped that no dream it could give me is better than simply keeping my eyes open for a few more seconds.

In my house it is well known that you do not give them your name.

Should the voice call out into the night, asking its simple question. “What may I call you?” You shall remain silent. If you hear the rapping on the window followed by its small voice again “What may I call you?”, you do not answer it. When the rapping grows louder, as if many little hands are tapping in sync and then the voice asks stronger “What may I call you?”, you still do not answer, you are not even to move.

In my house it is well known that you must let them in.

The small creatures that have gathered there on the window sill, if they ask properly. The creature below the window stepping out of the forest, twisting and grinning in morbid delight. “May I ask for some hospitality?” You must let them in. The creaking and groaning of its bones and joints as it climbs the wall to the window, smiling at you through the glass. “I have come a long way for your hospitality.” the group of winged things sitting on the window sill “May we ask for some hospitality?”. They’ll lift their wings and sit all pitifully there, smiling when they see you come towards the window. “We’ve flown a long way and are now tired.” You must let them in, and you must do it graciously.

In my house it is well known that you must give them good hospitality.

Offer them proper seating and a table. Make them tea, if you’re able to make the kind they like then make that. Find and serve them snacks of their liking. Serve them well, offer them blankets if they may need it. Give them towels if they are wet, or offer a blow-dryer to air themselves. When you have served them you must engage with small talk. “How has the weather been on your journey?”, “Where do you come from?”, “How has your trip been?”, “Do you enjoy the weather here?”, “Oh yes, it's been quite lovely here lately.”. You must sit there with them at whatever table you offered them and engage with them and serve them. Be it the large creature who bends and twists with manic eyes, or the group of small winged things, you must treat them well and be a good host.

In my house it is well known that you do not tell them your name.

Even if they ask once they are seated at your table, enjoying the tea and snacks and small talk that you've offered. You still must not answer. “I am the child of this house.” I used to reply when they visited me so long ago. “I am the keeper of this house.” I speak quietly as it now suits me. “What may we call you by?” They will ask. Eyes glittering and smiles sinister as they wait for you to either answer or break your hospitality. But you must not give them your name. Should the large ink black creature twist and reach out to you with its gnarled hands you must not flinch nor answer its query. When the winged ones fly up to your shoulders and land on your nose you must not fall for their charms nor answer their queries.

In my house it is well known that you must follow the simple rules.

Do not give them your name, Let them in when they ask properly, Offer them good hospitality, and Do not give them your name. If you follow these simple well-known rules, then you will survive the Fae.

‘‘Gertha—?’’

The High priestess shook her head. She recognized that laugh from anywhere. Grabbing her staff that was placed at an angle by the table, she stood from her stool and went to open her door.

She smiled at the radiant face of her young apprentice. Gertha burst right into the High priestess’ cabin and looked around. She spotted a range of different shaped bottles, flasks, and other strange looking stuff lying on the floor, some placed haphazardly on the table as well as shelves.

The High priestess raised her staff & used it to create a burst of light in her cabin. Gertha was in awe at the sight of stars like the night sky that was in the humble cabin.

Gertha slowly looked down as she felt her body rising into the air. The High priestess opened her door & whisked the spirited child out of the cabin. Gertha landed onto a giant sunflower that was perched near the front door.

She frowned knowing that her time of exploring what was in the cabin was over. She’d have to find someone else to bother, or maybe she could end up coming back later once the High priestess was not quite so busy.

The sunflower coiled itself from its current height and moved closer to the ground. Gertha laughed because the sunflower kept trying to tickle her bare feet with its leaves.

She slipped from the sunflower head, and left the High priestess’ cabin. The moment she was further away from the cabin that was by the edge of the Black Forest, she heard a kerfuffle coming from the market.

A few lads were contemplating how to set and prepare the village for the Summer festival. Gertha was looking forward to it— there was so much for her to see, taste, & do, too: there was the cabbage hide~n’seek (the cabbages would crawl from the fields and hide across the village plain); the banana boomerang ting (bananas had to be tossed into the air and every participant had to try to hit the bell that was in the center of the village); and her most favorite activity of all The Massive Candy Floss Twirl Spin (Gertha always managed to twist a giant Candy Floss that she would get to later consume whole).

As the folks in the village prepared for the festival, the High priestess was busy working in her cabin. She had gathered a pile of dead leaves, patches of chocolate covered tree bark, rock candy, and a mix of licorice sticks.

The High priestess waited for the sun to set. Later past dusk, she gathered a bunch of materials from her cabin & made her way to the heart of the Black Forest.

As soon as she was there she placed a skull in the center of a pile of rocks. She waved her staff & chanted:

Here lies the non-human

One who sees all

Even beyond the grave

Here lies the imprisoned

Who shall rise again

To seek vengeance

Here lies the being

That will devour

Every other soul

The ground began to quake at the end of the High priestess’ chant. A silver hand burst forth from the earth & clasped itself around the High priestess’ neck. She writhed in pain. Knees buckling onto the dark copper ground.

Soon the being had fully dragged itself out from its prison. The last thing she saw was eyes that shined like the starry night staring right into her soul.

It stretched its arms wide. Glad to have been brought back, and just in time for the start of the Summer Festival!

#Syzygy (c) 16th July, 2022.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dGawgRPqr5Q

Now one of the councilors of Moneos, Xar by name,

A fat boyar in furs and chain, sidestepped to his King

And said, My Liege, were this not ever the lies spoken by

Surface dwellers to subdue honest dwarves? Such is the fame

Of their misbegotten races, to gain by tricks the thing

Force cannot avail them, such is our power. By the sky

They swear by, and their surface god, they are come as foul thieves

Thirsting for this golden throne of your forefathers, which is yours

By right whether Geoff say yea or nay. A pit awaits

To eat these interlopers, give word. The King said, It grieves

Me to learn that such blasphemous hate among my boyars

Should dare give voice here. To the pit with you, take on their fates.

For Moneos was a pious king, despite his great wealth,

He gave credit inwardly to god and less to himself.

Now by Maliva’s grace I do resolve to swear fealty

To the Emperor Geoff the First on his Jade Stair throne.

Now tell me of the the trouble, and why say your far off coast

Be god-struck? Surely Maliva needs not we royalty

To hurl off divine challenger, be so dread, from his own?

Kushta has ever been safe through Maliva, more than most.

Spake Cecil, Jonachem the High Priest in Argora fane

Senses the god sleeps, or so it seems. Six paladins he

Charg’d to restore the Empire, realm by realm, and on this quest

We are about, with Bror our first stop. Whither next, is not plain,

But to wake the god through devotions is our goal. Please see

That we do not challenge any order, we are but guest.

This last he made with nod to Xar, stripp’d of chain, and taken

From the highest step to distant dungeon forsaken.

Swinging his axe- with a lot of might— the blade struck once, and the piece of wood split into two like a blastocyst separating to form monozygotic twins. He wiped the sweat of his brows with the back of his hands. Not too long he began panting from another arduous day. He reached for his bag laying by the base of the jade tree. The sound of neighing by the river caught his attention. He took off leaving the identical twin logs on the frosty ground.

As soon as he approached his companion, he raised his hand ready to pat it’s head. It seemed that all was serene along the zen waters.

He took a deep breath, and mounted his horse. His hands pulled at the reins, guiding the horse away from the teal river.

From the treetops he spotted a flamin’ gilded bird. He took this as a sign of good luck for the rest of his time around his new home.

He clicked his tongue, and rose off into the sunset~leaving a trail of silver dust behind him…not noticing the pair of logs that were rolling down the road following his every movement. The wood that he had cut did not like to be left abandoned.

#INCONNU (c) 7.7.2022 Jeudi

Wandering, Wandering, Wondering

That is the pattern of my mind. I wander then I wonder and then I wander again. Journeying through the fog of my thoughts, the smoke of my own words.

Wandering, Wandering, Wondering

I wander through vast forests, over bubbling brooks, in vast fields of flowers.

Wandering, Wandering, Wondering

I wander through massive castles that house the grandest of royalty whom host the loveliest of galas.

Wandering, Wandering, Wondering

The bells ring, my alarm sounds, voices shouting my name. I open my eyes, my wandering is over, but my wondering has just begun.

Then none made answer for a brief moment, for all were daunted,

Then Amit strode forwards and bowing gave this earnest reply

Thereby proving to all the worth of this Haplan-born noble:

Hail Moneos the Golden! From shores of Durkghu-haunted

Armatta comes honor! Under Maliva’s clear blue sky

Geoff our master salutes you, and bids you know the trouble

Which like a smith’s hammer has reforg’d the bonds of holy

Empire in our time. Such was Maliva’s original will,

That all sentient beings unite in one polity,

Argora bas’d, but easy upon those who solely

Rule in their birthright-appointed place, under Geoff’s skill

And grace. He confirms your reign, but sentient unity

Requires your fealty as King of Bror to submit with ease

And transmit your oath of allegiance to such as these.