049 | IHS Gladiator by Fargonon on DeviantArt

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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Spring Equinox

[DEVIATION] Spring Equinox ©️2026 K. Byers, All rights reserved. On a single night at winter’s end, the world holds itself in perfect balance. Not tipped toward shadow, not leaning toward light, but poised, steady, like a breath drawn slowly before speaking. Day and night sit across from one another at the same ancient table, hands folded, finally equal. For one quiet moment the scales of the sky are even. Beneath our feet the earth is waking. Roots stir in their dark cathedrals, stretching fingers through cool soil. Seeds crack open with the soft courage of things that have waited long enough. Sap climbs patiently through the bodies of trees like a promise remembered. Somewhere a bud loosens its tight green fist. Somewhere a bird practices the first brave note of spring before the dawn audience arrives. Winter is still here; you can feel her in the last cold breath of morning, and in the frost that lingers stubbornly on quiet fields, but her voice is softer now, her throne

Literature

Survival/Brain fog

I don't know how to live this life. Not exactly. No. Sometimes not at all. All I know is survival. And I do crave calmness and serenity, but I see no way of obtaining it. I forgot how to breathe. Maybe I don't even have to know how. My lungs do a poor job of keeping me present, but at least one of us does it. If it was left to me, I would not know how. I lose myself in deepest thoughts. Darkest. Most cruel. And I try to shake it off, but this stain will not come off, no matter how hard I try. I try to look out the window. To focus on something else. I see a bird freezing on a withering branch and I think about fragility. The loop continues. I look away. My skin starts itching. Why? ? ? ? I'd much prefer to jump out of my own skin. How do I do that? ? ? ? Why haven't I learned it? ? ? ? Can one...? Learn...? It...? Can one...? Jump? Off the cliff...? No. No. No. Not this again. Please. Jump...? Focus. Please. ... ... ... Can one jump out of one's skin...? Yes. That was the question. But

Literature

By My Hands: Chapter 9

It took some time and many, many more tears, but Rook finally rose from her bed and walked into her bathroom. She looked in the mirror and found a sad, tear-stained woman looking back at her. She shook her head, walked to shower and for a while she let the hot water wash away her guilt and pain. She then dressed and walked out into the hallway, briefly glancing in the direction of the stairway leading to Solas’s chambers. In a haze, she moved forward to where the desk stood and chairs were tossed to the side. Rook stared at the chairs blankly and didn’t bother righting them; instead, she went into the parlor. For a moment, she stood in front of the mantlepiece and looked at the many pictures of her family; she lovingly touched the one of her daughter, then picked up the one of Maran placed beside it. What would he say to her if he could see her now? “You look so much like him. It’s uncanny,” Solas stated as he approached her from the other side of the room. Rook startled, then

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Literature

Cover :: Khepri

A hazy dark storm seemed to stir upon the horizon, and Khepri felt his fur start to stand on end, ears flicking back and forth as he tried to judge just how close it was. He had sensed in the air that perhaps today wouldn’t be the calm sunny day that it had started as, his brother Onuris even seeming on edge, which was rather unlike the smaller buck. They were close to the town of Barsett, crop fields spreading out over miles upon miles, some having been covered in anticipation of what was to come. “Father mentioned a few days ago that there was this… storm coming, I think… he talked about how it was last several days…” Onuris spoke aloud, Khepri twisting a single ear toward him. He wasn’t wrong… he could faintly remember their father speaking of said storm. Though it looked… angry, dark. Threatening. The distant horizon was faded and almost black, a sign of the pure downpour that the lands were already facing. “We’re not going to outrun it.. So we should find shelter before it

Literature

Feat :: Oryx : Eddar

Eddar twisted an ear as he listened to the crowd of Jotun excitedly chattering to one another, while a small group of three or four seemed to stand separately, quietly focused on the two Rukaan that were slowly making their way into the labyrinth. The walls were coated in a thick ice, enough so that Eddar could see his warped reflection, his orange gemstone antlers glittering just as the ice did. Jotunheim was most notable for it’s freezing weather, and tough atmosphere… and he found he couldn’t disagree. Night was starting to fall, alongside the first snowflakes of the evening, already reminding the pair that this was a relentless land, with little reprieve. At his side, Oryx, a plume coated stag with deep bronze antlers and a black and white coat. His tail flicked side to side as he paid attention to the noise that happened around them, trying to hone in on anything that could help them succeed. They both knew the challenge ahead… and Oryx wondered if there was more to it. The

Literature

Meet Again :: Jackdaw : Raven

It would be on par to say that Jackdaw’s nights were pretty sleepless. With so much movement in the herd, there was always a pair of eyes needed to protect the does and defend the territory. The moments that he did get to himself, it was far too easy to slip into a deep slumber, and let himself be carried off into a dreamless sleep. Though even then, sometimes those dreams turned rather odd and peculiar, causing him to wake in a panic. Some seemed to hold meaning, whilst others didn’t… though the ones that perplexed him most, were of another dark Rukaan such as himself. She was graceful, with a plethora of knowledge bestowed upon her by a god… given the large black wings that ascended from her back, he only assumed it was Odin. He hadn’t caught her name… and he’d only seen her a few times. Each time, when she spoke, it would feel as though the air around them were vibrating. It was a strange sensation, and he always woke feeling more drained than he fell asleep… but he strangely

Glacialis-Quasar

Literature

Absolutely not panic driven

Amaranth doesn't slow or sleep for some time. It can't. It won't. Not with the injuries Sólmyrkvi has. So it carries him, as fast as it can - hunting for that living shadow that it knows is associated with Draza. The red and black rukaan pays no attention at all to where it goes, where this path takes it, what's going on. None of that is important right now. Not a single lick of it. What's important is finding Draza - because it knows that it can find Draza, and it knows that he has knowledge of how to help Sólmyrkvi. Echo remains tense and quiet on the flank of the tan rukaan, worriedly purring in a bid to help as much as they can. He's still breathing - still bleeding - and a few miles back he lost consciousness. Echo doesn't like that. Amaranth doesn't like that either. "Draza!" Amaranth calls out and its voice echoes throughout… the air. Silver eyes blink and take in the rainbow beneath its hooves. The Bifrost. What is he doing atop the Bifrost? "Amaranth?" Draza whips

Literature

Back to the mainland

Neither Amaranth nor Sólmyrkvi speak much on the way to the cave. Echo doesn't make much noise either. The small feline still seems utterly terrified by the amount of water that came rushing in all at once. They glance up with a soft prrp when Amaranth or Sólmyrkvi look at them for long enough, but they refuse to move from where they're tucked so tightly into the back of Sólmyrkvi's shoulders that the tan rukaan can't tell where his fur ends and cat fur begins. He's never seen Echo this stressed before, but then again… Echo is a very small cat and that was a lot of water. He supposes even he'd be losing his shit in their position. The silence has another reason behind it as well. Amaranth was concerned that too much noise might get the group caught by the pirates they'd seen earlier. Sólmyrkvi finds it hard to be too concerned about the pirates given the fact that Amaranth is right here, but he's not about to argue if Amaranth thinks the better path right now is avoidance. This

Literature

To (try) to tame a Predator

Not long after the storm comes another trial for the duo of rukaan to endure together. At least, that's the way Sólmyrkvi thinks of it. He's not so sure how Amaranth feels about the situation because the red and black rukaan has gone eerily silent. Silent in that kind of way that makes Sólmyrkvi think of forests with no animals left in them, of the way a glade hushes at the passing of something with large teeth. Even its steps make no noise as it paces, silver eyes flicking this way and that. The cave had been a bad idea, as it turns out. They'd woken up together in a crate and the sound of bipeds moving around outside of it. The feeling of the crate being moved. Someone's managed to capture them. Sólmyrkvi is… ambivalent at best about the idea of bipeds - some are really nice and others seem like they need a hoof to the head. But Amaranth hasn't said a word and Sólmyrkvi can't pin down what they're thinking. It makes him nervous. But no words are forthcoming from him - every

WanderingErato

Literature

Hadal

It has been far too long since intrigue came And these colours blushed over my soul. Filling me with pure curiosity; A lightning-strike fervor.While somewhere despite the calm I swell And wonder.A hesitant wanton; Craning my being to see, Without touching, or thirsting. In fear of falling - Headfirst Headlong Heedless Into the hadal.

Literature

anamnesis

And in between small moments I create lifetimes— whole constellations forming in the pause between breaths. Orbits sketch themselves in quiet precession around a gravity the body already recognizes. A thousand mornings assemble from a single blink, time folding as if the sky itself rehearses us.

Literature

canticle

Longing moves like a chant through dark matter— not calling, not asking, only repeating until the shape becomes familiar. I feel it as orientation: the way my inner sky tilts slightly toward yours. The steady remembering of how particles behave when they have already agreed. Light learns my body by passing through it. I learn you the same way— as warmth that doesn’t fade. I hold it as want, as hum— a rhythm I keep even in silence.

Suggested Collections

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Literature

A Tribute to Life

Through time and endless space, life’s miracles keep their pace; a sacred tide, a holy blaze, a divine pulse that never fades. Like rivers through eternal sky, they whisper softly: Live, it's frightful not to live. And in that vast and shining blue, we rise as birds with wings anew. For just a breath, for just a flight, we taste existence, pure and bright, the fragile gift, the secret art, of beating hope within the heart. We journey on through loss and doubt, through questions never figured out; yet trust that in the quiet deep unseen victories gently sleep. To love beyond what eyes can see, to walk the road of destiny; to turn the pain that finds us all into a prayer that breaks the wall. A silent revolution born from wounded night to brighter morn. To guard this life with steadfast hands against harsh wars and barren lands, against the hunger, stark, unfair, the wound of want in open air. To live, and learn to live once more, with childlike wonder at the

Literature

Over Te Horizon

Sometimes I wonder other days I dream Sometimes I go ten feet under up a stream Other days I worry some days I find enough Tomorrow I find tears today I find also love Sometimes I find fears within a million tears Other days I see how many I changed in years Today I find sadness tomorrow I find also faith Today I find happiness in pain I always create Tomorrow I fly towards the sky very high Today I find another hard painful goodbye Up away over the horizon I shall forever go I say to myself well sometimes life is just so Today I find tears tomorrow happiness I find Sometimes I know it is all gonna be in mind All memories and the fights I did leave behind Sometimes the sunlight makes me very blind Today I find rest after I did say forever goodbye Up away over the horizon I shall forever fly With both my wings for a very little while I hope that our years together still make you smile Jill

Literature

The Starry Night

The view from your window was beautiful, Would that I could have met you and talked, Walking along the hallways of the asylum, Just two broken souls sharing our thoughts. I have been there friend and seen the stars, I understand the yearning to go to them, Rising like a pulsing from inside a dark void, May they have been the last thing you saw. I hope the cypress tree still grows strong, Standing over the small village in the hills, Guarded by mountains under a starry night. Perhaps one day I will be there and salute you.

Star Writing

Literature

Raid Of The Red Wolf

Two blue pixies crashed and tumbled, creasing a witch’s steeple hat. The tug-of-war sent them dancing one way and then the other, their little feet skidding along the cold surface of a great marble table, angry chirps filling the air. Just behind them, a young witch was sleeping. She was in a glorious library with a white, vaulted ceiling besieging the heavens. Her head rested in the curve of her elbow, softer than the cold table beneath. Her chin was resting in a little pool of drool. “I didn’t mean— ” the sleeping 21-year-old murmured. The pixies froze and stared at the woman, their black eyes and blue faces expressionless. They hissed and began fighting again. “Rescue my friends— ” spoke the still sleeping visitor a little louder. The long red hair blanketing her upper back trembled slightly. One of the pixies wrenched the steeple hat from the other and took flight, dragging it along the tabletop. Emery woke up with a sharp gasp. She jerked upward, then froze— hiding

Literature

This Night

I look up at the stars with hope I will lose myself in this night. The Moon is clever and gifts me with sight, as that golden crescent skims the edge of the world and sails into void and space. I look up, what wonderful lights do glitter overhead? Planets fly along caught in orbits that arc across this dazzling sky. That misty white glow full of many more stars lingers above, and cuts the world into two separate spheres They are the adamantine orbs crafted by no mortal hands, oh they shine into my eyes. I weep with joy for I see the beauty, the simple elements of life. I wish to lose myself tonight as my feet grow light and float out into space. If I was but light, then I could venture out from Earth and eternity would only be but an instant. And, my soul could be everywhere and nowhere so this night could be forever. I look up at the stars and want myself to be one with this night.

Literature

The Kickboxer

"What does kickboxing mean to you?" Her coach's voice filled her head during the second round. Like thoughts often are, his words came as a mere flicker, yet she registered them completely, her heart aching with their weight. "What does kickboxing mean to you?" 'Clearly not enough,' she thought desperately to herself. 'Clearly not as much as I thought it did!' She was losing -- losing badly, she knew. The first round had been hers, she was sure, but her opponent mounted the mother of all comebacks in the second, as though she had been possessed between rounds. There wasn't much time left in it, and it was all she could do now to just hang in there and stay on her feet. Her opponent came at her with a familiar combination. She must've drilled it a thousand times, however, and could stop it in her sleep: jab --she blocked it-- front kick --blocked, but barely-- jab, again --it struck her in the chest-- hook kick --she staggered back a step, feeling slightly winded. "What does

Literature

the-stuepp on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/the-stuepp/art/Plotdex-Schroedinger-s-Plot-1303375494the-stuepp

Literature

Moth Soul - Art Trade

The forest craved something new. Stagnation is never enough when you have eons to live through. Silence soothes - but sometimes the trees need to hear …a scream. She forgot who she was as the mirror began to devour her soul. Slowly, the mirror fed its interior, which until then had been filled with non-life, non-hunger - non-existence. Abandoned and forgotten by time, it offered its victim the same thing - oblivion. A quiet, creeping decay. It gleamed amidst a carpet of moss and dew-shimmering mushrooms. Green as spring itself. Delicate as the touch of a spider's web. Her soul offered life not only to the mirror - but also to the emerald bed in which it had settled. And the forest feasted on new life, emerging and transforming. Slowly, painstakingly, it began to blossom, as if inspired - with the promise of something more. Rebirth after centuries of emptiness. The mirror - forgotten by its creators, alone, left to imprison souls for survival - began to breathe. At first, its

Literature

Animal

one day, the rock spirit, water spirit, nature spirit, air spirit, earth spirit, and fire spirit teamed up to create something. the nature spirit took twigs off her branches and places them on the ground. "so it may be strong and flexible like my trees." water and earth mixed together and made a whole system mimicking that of the planets. "so it may be able to have a similar blueprint to ours and can have the stability and balance of earth and emotions and fluidity of water." fire and rock came together to make lava and filled the passages that earth and water made "so it may have the blood that our earth does, connecting it to us." fire made a flame and put it in the center of their creation "so it can have the same spirit as a flame" earth coated the ingredients in compact clay and smoothed it out "so it may have a outer shield that allows it to feel the world in which it walks." water filled its throat, pumping herself into all of its new parts in order to

Featured in Groups

Equus-Ballator

Iron-Horse-Stables

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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Spring Equinox

[DEVIATION] Spring Equinox ©️2026 K. Byers, All rights reserved. On a single night at winter’s end, the world holds itself in perfect balance. Not tipped toward shadow, not leaning toward light, but poised, steady, like a breath drawn slowly before speaking. Day and night sit across from one another at the same ancient table, hands folded, finally equal. For one quiet moment the scales of the sky are even. Beneath our feet the earth is waking. Roots stir in their dark cathedrals, stretching fingers through cool soil. Seeds crack open with the soft courage of things that have waited long enough. Sap climbs patiently through the bodies of trees like a promise remembered. Somewhere a bud loosens its tight green fist. Somewhere a bird practices the first brave note of spring before the dawn audience arrives. Winter is still here; you can feel her in the last cold breath of morning, and in the frost that lingers stubbornly on quiet fields, but her voice is softer now, her throne

Literature

Survival/Brain fog

I don't know how to live this life. Not exactly. No. Sometimes not at all. All I know is survival. And I do crave calmness and serenity, but I see no way of obtaining it. I forgot how to breathe. Maybe I don't even have to know how. My lungs do a poor job of keeping me present, but at least one of us does it. If it was left to me, I would not know how. I lose myself in deepest thoughts. Darkest. Most cruel. And I try to shake it off, but this stain will not come off, no matter how hard I try. I try to look out the window. To focus on something else. I see a bird freezing on a withering branch and I think about fragility. The loop continues. I look away. My skin starts itching. Why? ? ? ? I'd much prefer to jump out of my own skin. How do I do that? ? ? ? Why haven't I learned it? ? ? ? Can one...? Learn...? It...? Can one...? Jump? Off the cliff...? No. No. No. Not this again. Please. Jump...? Focus. Please. ... ... ... Can one jump out of one's skin...? Yes. That was the question. But

Literature

By My Hands: Chapter 9

It took some time and many, many more tears, but Rook finally rose from her bed and walked into her bathroom. She looked in the mirror and found a sad, tear-stained woman looking back at her. She shook her head, walked to shower and for a while she let the hot water wash away her guilt and pain. She then dressed and walked out into the hallway, briefly glancing in the direction of the stairway leading to Solas’s chambers. In a haze, she moved forward to where the desk stood and chairs were tossed to the side. Rook stared at the chairs blankly and didn’t bother righting them; instead, she went into the parlor. For a moment, she stood in front of the mantlepiece and looked at the many pictures of her family; she lovingly touched the one of her daughter, then picked up the one of Maran placed beside it. What would he say to her if he could see her now? “You look so much like him. It’s uncanny,” Solas stated as he approached her from the other side of the room. Rook startled, then

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Literature

Cover :: Khepri

A hazy dark storm seemed to stir upon the horizon, and Khepri felt his fur start to stand on end, ears flicking back and forth as he tried to judge just how close it was. He had sensed in the air that perhaps today wouldn’t be the calm sunny day that it had started as, his brother Onuris even seeming on edge, which was rather unlike the smaller buck. They were close to the town of Barsett, crop fields spreading out over miles upon miles, some having been covered in anticipation of what was to come. “Father mentioned a few days ago that there was this… storm coming, I think… he talked about how it was last several days…” Onuris spoke aloud, Khepri twisting a single ear toward him. He wasn’t wrong… he could faintly remember their father speaking of said storm. Though it looked… angry, dark. Threatening. The distant horizon was faded and almost black, a sign of the pure downpour that the lands were already facing. “We’re not going to outrun it.. So we should find shelter before it

Literature

Feat :: Oryx : Eddar

Eddar twisted an ear as he listened to the crowd of Jotun excitedly chattering to one another, while a small group of three or four seemed to stand separately, quietly focused on the two Rukaan that were slowly making their way into the labyrinth. The walls were coated in a thick ice, enough so that Eddar could see his warped reflection, his orange gemstone antlers glittering just as the ice did. Jotunheim was most notable for it’s freezing weather, and tough atmosphere… and he found he couldn’t disagree. Night was starting to fall, alongside the first snowflakes of the evening, already reminding the pair that this was a relentless land, with little reprieve. At his side, Oryx, a plume coated stag with deep bronze antlers and a black and white coat. His tail flicked side to side as he paid attention to the noise that happened around them, trying to hone in on anything that could help them succeed. They both knew the challenge ahead… and Oryx wondered if there was more to it. The

Literature

Meet Again :: Jackdaw : Raven

It would be on par to say that Jackdaw’s nights were pretty sleepless. With so much movement in the herd, there was always a pair of eyes needed to protect the does and defend the territory. The moments that he did get to himself, it was far too easy to slip into a deep slumber, and let himself be carried off into a dreamless sleep. Though even then, sometimes those dreams turned rather odd and peculiar, causing him to wake in a panic. Some seemed to hold meaning, whilst others didn’t… though the ones that perplexed him most, were of another dark Rukaan such as himself. She was graceful, with a plethora of knowledge bestowed upon her by a god… given the large black wings that ascended from her back, he only assumed it was Odin. He hadn’t caught her name… and he’d only seen her a few times. Each time, when she spoke, it would feel as though the air around them were vibrating. It was a strange sensation, and he always woke feeling more drained than he fell asleep… but he strangely

Glacialis-Quasar

Literature

Absolutely not panic driven

Amaranth doesn't slow or sleep for some time. It can't. It won't. Not with the injuries Sólmyrkvi has. So it carries him, as fast as it can - hunting for that living shadow that it knows is associated with Draza. The red and black rukaan pays no attention at all to where it goes, where this path takes it, what's going on. None of that is important right now. Not a single lick of it. What's important is finding Draza - because it knows that it can find Draza, and it knows that he has knowledge of how to help Sólmyrkvi. Echo remains tense and quiet on the flank of the tan rukaan, worriedly purring in a bid to help as much as they can. He's still breathing - still bleeding - and a few miles back he lost consciousness. Echo doesn't like that. Amaranth doesn't like that either. "Draza!" Amaranth calls out and its voice echoes throughout… the air. Silver eyes blink and take in the rainbow beneath its hooves. The Bifrost. What is he doing atop the Bifrost? "Amaranth?" Draza whips

Literature

Back to the mainland

Neither Amaranth nor Sólmyrkvi speak much on the way to the cave. Echo doesn't make much noise either. The small feline still seems utterly terrified by the amount of water that came rushing in all at once. They glance up with a soft prrp when Amaranth or Sólmyrkvi look at them for long enough, but they refuse to move from where they're tucked so tightly into the back of Sólmyrkvi's shoulders that the tan rukaan can't tell where his fur ends and cat fur begins. He's never seen Echo this stressed before, but then again… Echo is a very small cat and that was a lot of water. He supposes even he'd be losing his shit in their position. The silence has another reason behind it as well. Amaranth was concerned that too much noise might get the group caught by the pirates they'd seen earlier. Sólmyrkvi finds it hard to be too concerned about the pirates given the fact that Amaranth is right here, but he's not about to argue if Amaranth thinks the better path right now is avoidance. This

Literature

To (try) to tame a Predator

Not long after the storm comes another trial for the duo of rukaan to endure together. At least, that's the way Sólmyrkvi thinks of it. He's not so sure how Amaranth feels about the situation because the red and black rukaan has gone eerily silent. Silent in that kind of way that makes Sólmyrkvi think of forests with no animals left in them, of the way a glade hushes at the passing of something with large teeth. Even its steps make no noise as it paces, silver eyes flicking this way and that. The cave had been a bad idea, as it turns out. They'd woken up together in a crate and the sound of bipeds moving around outside of it. The feeling of the crate being moved. Someone's managed to capture them. Sólmyrkvi is… ambivalent at best about the idea of bipeds - some are really nice and others seem like they need a hoof to the head. But Amaranth hasn't said a word and Sólmyrkvi can't pin down what they're thinking. It makes him nervous. But no words are forthcoming from him - every

WanderingErato

Literature

Hadal

It has been far too long since intrigue came And these colours blushed over my soul. Filling me with pure curiosity; A lightning-strike fervor.While somewhere despite the calm I swell And wonder.A hesitant wanton; Craning my being to see, Without touching, or thirsting. In fear of falling - Headfirst Headlong Heedless Into the hadal.

Literature

anamnesis

And in between small moments I create lifetimes— whole constellations forming in the pause between breaths. Orbits sketch themselves in quiet precession around a gravity the body already recognizes. A thousand mornings assemble from a single blink, time folding as if the sky itself rehearses us.

Literature

canticle

Longing moves like a chant through dark matter— not calling, not asking, only repeating until the shape becomes familiar. I feel it as orientation: the way my inner sky tilts slightly toward yours. The steady remembering of how particles behave when they have already agreed. Light learns my body by passing through it. I learn you the same way— as warmth that doesn’t fade. I hold it as want, as hum— a rhythm I keep even in silence.

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Literature

A Tribute to Life

Through time and endless space, life’s miracles keep their pace; a sacred tide, a holy blaze, a divine pulse that never fades. Like rivers through eternal sky, they whisper softly: Live, it's frightful not to live. And in that vast and shining blue, we rise as birds with wings anew. For just a breath, for just a flight, we taste existence, pure and bright, the fragile gift, the secret art, of beating hope within the heart. We journey on through loss and doubt, through questions never figured out; yet trust that in the quiet deep unseen victories gently sleep. To love beyond what eyes can see, to walk the road of destiny; to turn the pain that finds us all into a prayer that breaks the wall. A silent revolution born from wounded night to brighter morn. To guard this life with steadfast hands against harsh wars and barren lands, against the hunger, stark, unfair, the wound of want in open air. To live, and learn to live once more, with childlike wonder at the

Literature

Over Te Horizon

Sometimes I wonder other days I dream Sometimes I go ten feet under up a stream Other days I worry some days I find enough Tomorrow I find tears today I find also love Sometimes I find fears within a million tears Other days I see how many I changed in years Today I find sadness tomorrow I find also faith Today I find happiness in pain I always create Tomorrow I fly towards the sky very high Today I find another hard painful goodbye Up away over the horizon I shall forever go I say to myself well sometimes life is just so Today I find tears tomorrow happiness I find Sometimes I know it is all gonna be in mind All memories and the fights I did leave behind Sometimes the sunlight makes me very blind Today I find rest after I did say forever goodbye Up away over the horizon I shall forever fly With both my wings for a very little while I hope that our years together still make you smile Jill

Literature

The Starry Night

The view from your window was beautiful, Would that I could have met you and talked, Walking along the hallways of the asylum, Just two broken souls sharing our thoughts. I have been there friend and seen the stars, I understand the yearning to go to them, Rising like a pulsing from inside a dark void, May they have been the last thing you saw. I hope the cypress tree still grows strong, Standing over the small village in the hills, Guarded by mountains under a starry night. Perhaps one day I will be there and salute you.

Star Writing

Literature

Raid Of The Red Wolf

Two blue pixies crashed and tumbled, creasing a witch’s steeple hat. The tug-of-war sent them dancing one way and then the other, their little feet skidding along the cold surface of a great marble table, angry chirps filling the air. Just behind them, a young witch was sleeping. She was in a glorious library with a white, vaulted ceiling besieging the heavens. Her head rested in the curve of her elbow, softer than the cold table beneath. Her chin was resting in a little pool of drool. “I didn’t mean— ” the sleeping 21-year-old murmured. The pixies froze and stared at the woman, their black eyes and blue faces expressionless. They hissed and began fighting again. “Rescue my friends— ” spoke the still sleeping visitor a little louder. The long red hair blanketing her upper back trembled slightly. One of the pixies wrenched the steeple hat from the other and took flight, dragging it along the tabletop. Emery woke up with a sharp gasp. She jerked upward, then froze— hiding

Literature

This Night

I look up at the stars with hope I will lose myself in this night. The Moon is clever and gifts me with sight, as that golden crescent skims the edge of the world and sails into void and space. I look up, what wonderful lights do glitter overhead? Planets fly along caught in orbits that arc across this dazzling sky. That misty white glow full of many more stars lingers above, and cuts the world into two separate spheres They are the adamantine orbs crafted by no mortal hands, oh they shine into my eyes. I weep with joy for I see the beauty, the simple elements of life. I wish to lose myself tonight as my feet grow light and float out into space. If I was but light, then I could venture out from Earth and eternity would only be but an instant. And, my soul could be everywhere and nowhere so this night could be forever. I look up at the stars and want myself to be one with this night.

Literature

The Kickboxer

"What does kickboxing mean to you?" Her coach's voice filled her head during the second round. Like thoughts often are, his words came as a mere flicker, yet she registered them completely, her heart aching with their weight. "What does kickboxing mean to you?" 'Clearly not enough,' she thought desperately to herself. 'Clearly not as much as I thought it did!' She was losing -- losing badly, she knew. The first round had been hers, she was sure, but her opponent mounted the mother of all comebacks in the second, as though she had been possessed between rounds. There wasn't much time left in it, and it was all she could do now to just hang in there and stay on her feet. Her opponent came at her with a familiar combination. She must've drilled it a thousand times, however, and could stop it in her sleep: jab --she blocked it-- front kick --blocked, but barely-- jab, again --it struck her in the chest-- hook kick --she staggered back a step, feeling slightly winded. "What does

Literature

the-stuepp on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/the-stuepp/art/Plotdex-Schroedinger-s-Plot-1303375494the-stuepp

Literature

Moth Soul - Art Trade

The forest craved something new. Stagnation is never enough when you have eons to live through. Silence soothes - but sometimes the trees need to hear …a scream. She forgot who she was as the mirror began to devour her soul. Slowly, the mirror fed its interior, which until then had been filled with non-life, non-hunger - non-existence. Abandoned and forgotten by time, it offered its victim the same thing - oblivion. A quiet, creeping decay. It gleamed amidst a carpet of moss and dew-shimmering mushrooms. Green as spring itself. Delicate as the touch of a spider's web. Her soul offered life not only to the mirror - but also to the emerald bed in which it had settled. And the forest feasted on new life, emerging and transforming. Slowly, painstakingly, it began to blossom, as if inspired - with the promise of something more. Rebirth after centuries of emptiness. The mirror - forgotten by its creators, alone, left to imprison souls for survival - began to breathe. At first, its

Literature

Animal

one day, the rock spirit, water spirit, nature spirit, air spirit, earth spirit, and fire spirit teamed up to create something. the nature spirit took twigs off her branches and places them on the ground. "so it may be strong and flexible like my trees." water and earth mixed together and made a whole system mimicking that of the planets. "so it may be able to have a similar blueprint to ours and can have the stability and balance of earth and emotions and fluidity of water." fire and rock came together to make lava and filled the passages that earth and water made "so it may have the blood that our earth does, connecting it to us." fire made a flame and put it in the center of their creation "so it can have the same spirit as a flame" earth coated the ingredients in compact clay and smoothed it out "so it may have a outer shield that allows it to feel the world in which it walks." water filled its throat, pumping herself into all of its new parts in order to

Featured in Groups

Equus-Ballator

Iron-Horse-Stables

Deviation Actions

Spring Equinox

Survival/Brain fog

By My Hands: Chapter 9

Cover :: Khepri

Feat :: Oryx : Eddar

Meet Again :: Jackdaw : Raven

Absolutely not panic driven

Back to the mainland

To (try) to tame a Predator

Hadal

anamnesis

canticle

A Tribute to Life

Over Te Horizon

The Starry Night

Raid Of The Red Wolf

This Night

The Kickboxer

Moth Soul - Art Trade

Animal

Spring Equinox

Survival/Brain fog

By My Hands: Chapter 9

Cover :: Khepri

Feat :: Oryx : Eddar

Meet Again :: Jackdaw : Raven

Absolutely not panic driven

Back to the mainland

To (try) to tame a Predator

Hadal

anamnesis

canticle

A Tribute to Life

Over Te Horizon

The Starry Night

Raid Of The Red Wolf

This Night

The Kickboxer

Moth Soul - Art Trade

Animal

049 | IHS Gladiator

Description

Spring Equinox

Survival/Brain fog

By My Hands: Chapter 9

Cover :: Khepri

Feat :: Oryx : Eddar

Meet Again :: Jackdaw : Raven

Absolutely not panic driven

Back to the mainland

To (try) to tame a Predator

Hadal

anamnesis

canticle

A Tribute to Life

Over Te Horizon

The Starry Night

Raid Of The Red Wolf

This Night

The Kickboxer

Moth Soul - Art Trade

Animal