Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Hobbyist Martin Padric23/Male/Canada Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 5 Deviations 851 Comments 4,042 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Not One Step Back
5th of Summer, 1558
Mianayagrad, Pozerka
The train finally came to a stop. The men and women inside the boxcars were tried and restless, having been confined in the tiny cars for six long hours. Many had no clue where they were, but a few knew. These few knew that only a tiny portion of these young soldiers would survive the coming slaughter.
The doors open, revealing to them a sight that made them gasp in shock and fear: their beloved city of Mianyagrad—ablaze across the river Dlio. They made no effort to leave the boxcar, even as their officers came and forced them out, threatening to shoot all cowards.
Lieutenant Victor Sorzargi elbowed his way out of one of the cars, disappointed in the reactions of his platoon. He looked around the dock, taking in everything. Barges took fresh troops across the river, returning with the wounded and the dead. Medics tended to the returning wounded, calling out for supplies. Several of their patients were beyond help, their limbs having been bl
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 0 3
One Shot
A heavy, Winter blizzard had sneaked up on the city of Mianyagrad. Torrents of wind and blinding snow covered what remained of the glorious city, and few soldiers wandered through the streets. Since Spring, the Battle of Mianyagrad had been waged, pitting the technological might of the Sechs Empire against the sheer determination and patriotism of the native Pozerkans. No one knew how long the battle would last.
The private lay in the ruins of an apartment building, shielded from the wind and snow. Beside him lay his rifle. He pulled his winter coat closer to his face, eyes on the street below. He could barely make out anything in this weather, but he knew his target would be arriving soon. He was to kill a top-ranking Sechs officer and do so in this storm. No one would be able to tell where the shot came from and he'd be able to make it back to camp safely. He'd been here for three days now, waiting. He pulled out a granola bar and torn a chunk off, chewing slowly. In the distance, ar
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 0 3
Will I ever be the same?
Will I ever be the same?
I ask myself every night
This burning question I ask:
Shall I see first light?
One slip, I made
And in that eternal fall
The pain and the tears
Took it all...
The lies promised
The trust mislead
Would you not see me
Toss in my bed?
Her face is all I see
As I walk these halls
The pain I caused her
Now I heed Their calls
An eternity of slumber
The gift for my mistakes
Don't cry as I depart;
I can't take your heartbreaks
I love you all
Now, please, live as I die
The angels, they come
And lift my soul, as I silently cry
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 2 11
Saints of the Ter
As the Spirits cry,
Across the sky,
We few stand guard.
With heads held high,
The doves all fly
As we protect these holy lands.
Through the blood and the tears,
The sweat and the fears,
We stand proud as the angels cry
And the fallen are taken
To their eternal graves.
For we few are the saints
In the inferno that is war.
The battle-hardened saints;
Saints of the Tér...
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 0 0
Fighting Few: 5th RNB ch.1
Chapter 1: "Saint of the Tér"
10th of Spring, 1565
Trampoli, Norad Kingdom
These days, he could care less about serving King and country.
Lance Corporal Felix Uris stood in the pouring rain, letting it wash over him. For five years, the battle-hardened veteran had served with the 5th Royal Noradian Battalion, the legendary "Fighting Few", in the elven nation of Malanda, helping stop the advance of the Sechs invasion force. The fighting had been intense: small, quiet villages soon became the sites of so much bloodshed. Thousands had perished, including his friends.
The memories he kept continued to haunt him, but he had come to deal with them, accepting that they were in the past. He had to look to the future. But even then, the one memory he couldn't come to terms with was the one of his last battle. He blamed himself for what had happened, even when there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.
But, despite the bloodshed and the pain, he had been able to find love.
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 0 6
Fighting Few 0
There was so much blood.
"Joel, stay with me! Don't you dare die on me! Medic!"
"It's... too late, Felix. I—"
"Don't say that. We'll get you back and—"
"We... both know I... won't live long enough. I've... lost too much blood. Just... just promise me... promise me you'll make Tabatha happy, okay? Make sure... my sister is... is happy."
"How can I, if you die?"
"Just... make her... happy..."
"Joel, wake up! No... no, no, no! Come back to me, Joel! Don't leave me here alone! No, you can't die! Joel!"
So much blood.
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 0 0
"Monitors coming online, ma'am."
"Heart rate... normal. Breathing... normal."
"Brain activity is increasing. He's coming to."
"Excellent. Lalur, open the pod."
"Right away, ma'am."
The pod door hissed open, filling the windowless room with thick, white smoke. The man inside stirred, his eyes slowly opening.
"Fighter Class demon, creation complete," a bodiless voice announced. He took a slow, deep inhale, the mist swirling around his nostrils. The air smelled of antibiotics. He could see faint lights coming from outside the pod, in his peripheral vision. He flexed his biceps, the powerful muscles rippling beneath the skin. He pulled himself out of the pod.
Next to his pod sat another, identical one. Frost covered the glass surface on the door, concealing the contents inside. He looked at it, noticing the lights around it. What was in it?
He heard a door open, somewhere from within the smoke-filled room. Footsteps sounded, approaching him. He could feel his heart speed up, the adrenaline
:iconheartsetter:Heartsetter 1 0


Heartsetter's Profile Picture
Martin Padric
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome
Mandalorian by heart

Personal Quote: "These scars of mine are not reminders of failure; they are medals of all I have endured."

Profile Picture Drawn by Raffurano

Journal History


Add a Comment:
LongSean22 Featured By Owner May 30, 2017
Thanks for the watch!

I guess I'mma go do more stuff now?

zombielandbabe Featured By Owner Apr 17, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank you for the faave
Heartsetter Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
lol well, it IS good art :P
zombielandbabe Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Neko Emoji-16 (Blush) [V1]  oh you, you're an awesome person you.
Heartsetter Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
well is true :P
(1 Reply)
majorkerina Featured By Owner May 16, 2013  Student Writer
Thanks for faving ^^. Sorry for taking so long to thank. *bows*
Heartsetter Featured By Owner May 26, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Wait... I honestly forget what I faved ^^" Sorry.
majorkerina Featured By Owner May 26, 2013  Student Writer
I'm not quite certain myself but I think it was this - [link]
Heartsetter Featured By Owner May 28, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
oh yeah lol. That was what, a year ago? :P
(1 Reply)
zombielandbabe Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
HEY thank for adding me bro, ill have the pic drawn and uploaded as soon as i can! thanks for the WATCH!
Add a Comment: