Quiet Realm of the Myst

Watching…

xanderrun — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 13:14:41 +0000

The weary knight walked slowly toward his mount, glancing about the glade, more out of fondness than caution it seemed. His horse, a magnificently sturdy animal, looked as weary as it’s rider and she wondered if the two would find a suitable place of rest before nightfall overtook them. The sun was already kissing the horizon and there was quite a distance before the small, but friendly village of Nathum would even be visible. It would be a clear night though, cool but not cold and no rain was in sight. The real concern would be the ruthless band of thieves that roamed the countryside preying on weary travelers. Fortunately her beloved knight was quite a warrior and his tenacity and fierce spirit were more than enough to carry him through any confrontation.

“My beloved knight, how weary the years have made thee.” She murmured as she gazed upon him with such adoration, recalling a day not so different from this one, when she had first discovered this loving warrior. A smile emerged as she put her hand to her mouth to muffle the tiny chuckle that had slipped out, when she remembered the expression on his face when she’d first revealed herself to him. Replaying the memory in her mind, it was so fresh and real as though it were happening all over again…

Long ago…

xanderrun — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 12:43:28 +0000

The olde knight feeling battered and drawn, paused only for a moment at the sound and the mysterious vision, wondering if it were real or just his exhaustion pressing him to rest before he decided it was the latter. Keeping his guard up, he stood for a moment longer gazing happily upon the gentle glade; his skin feeling the warmth of the sun, and his soul remembering the warmth of her smile.

He walked in sunlight, his legs brushing the grass now overgrown. He was delighted by the memories of this place, the memories of her. He found the rock where he had once sat, hidden, when he first saw her. It seemed many years and many battles had taken their toll on him since those days of youth. Still… his heart warmed with an empty ache at the memories.

He sat quietly in the sunlight, dappled by the leaves of the trees overhead. He listened quietly to the sounds of the woods. “Why do I torture myself so”, he muttered to himself. He looked down at his surcoat, seeing that it was covered in dust from the road he had been travelling. His boots with dried mud looked old and worn. He shook his head at what his appearance must be.

He had grown old since those days, his head beneath his mail was now bald on top with his hair greying at the temples. His close cropped beard, nearly white with age. His mid section strained his chainmail, but nonetheless, he still fought the battles. Not nearly a quick as he once was, nore as keen, but just as determined.

He looked at his sword, it needed a new edge. It had been his trusty ally in many hard fought contests but he had not had time… no he had not taken the time, to give it proper care. He was tired. Not just muscle tired, but tired in his soul. His spirit had hardened against time.

Time… how could time deliver him here, now, to this glade, this sun filled place where such memories arose?

He smiled at the memories.

Again he muttered to himself, “I saw her once in the pool on the rock. She had her back toward me and I saw her perfect shape. One whose form could only have been wrought by the heavens.” He chuckled, “I wonder if the pool still exists?”

He gathered his thoughts and rose. He decided to find his lodging for the night as the sun was starting to find its way to the West. He walked slowly out of the glade and sighed.

The Visitor…

xanderrun — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 14:04:50 +0000

The olde knight looked in wonder at this place… the sunlight streaming in on gossamer curtains… the smell of the woods… the simple chatter of leaves as they applauded the scene…it had been too long since he’d walked here…too long since he’d traveled back to this splendid grove. Would she know he had been here? His mind flooded with so many memories of how he’d fallen under “the spell”. A small grin widened upon his face as he recalled their first meeting. Did she ever recall such gems? He pondered this for only a moment, before his smile widened even further. Yes, he knew she cherished this beloved sanctuary as much as he did and surely her memories rivaled his own.

Drawing in one last deep breath before he returned to his mount, the olde knight closed his eyes and turned his face towards the sky to let the sun wash over him one last time. As he turned to leave he heard the snap of a twig and the rustle of leaves, and before he could spin completely around the stranger had disappeared into the trees.

Go Lightly…

xanderrun — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 04:55:00 +0000

Go lightly
Prod gently upon the bare ground
For thy presence is known
It is always heard
Even without a sound

Quietly there
Thy spirit stands quite tall
Even amongst towering trees
It is seen best of all

Walk soft
Unto the fields that surround
No need of any fanfare
For thy presence abounds

Tread not
With haste nor anxious care
As thy sweet kind soul
Dwells ever there

Go lightly
With peaceful heart ever strong
For your soul is gracious
And its patience dwells long

(This is copyrighted/published material please do not copy. Thank you.)

Along the path…

xanderrun — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 04:32:24 +0000

The cobblestone path from the stable to the lilac garden was bathed in the shadows of the large weeping willows, which adorned the south garden as far as the eye could see. The scent of lilacs was strong, but wonderfully intoxicating, and the brightly colored monarchs seemed to agree for there were endless numbers of them gently floating from one bush to the next. Her long auburn tresses tied back into one singular braid, with pale lemon ribbons and ivory lace, lay silken against her lavender gown made of the thinnest, softest, chiffon. The breeze stirred her deep inside, as she closed her eyes while turning her face to greet the morning sun. Everyone in the castle still slumbered, late into the mornings. But she loved this time of day best. She always felt it was borne just for her, a time set aside for the quiet creatures of the shadows to enjoy the splendor of nature’s gift, without the distractions and annoyances of those who wandered through such beauty, but never saw it or ever really appreciated the grandness of it all.