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Folk Tales: 'Late Afternoon'Folk Tales: 'Late Afternoon' by Bluewyrm
Prologue, Part Two
. . . In the shrouded blackness, the hushed fastness, the door may open and one may step through, and, there, past the darkness, find that . . .
. . . The afternoon sunlight filters pleasantly through the trees. A few spring flowers wave slightly in the breeze by the edge of the dusty path, but that is far less interesting than the humble little shop it leads to. In the sepia glow of the sun and the ever-present dusky mist most things fade from perception in a few feet, but for some reason, the shop stays clearly delineated against the faded blue sky. Coming up the path, the smell of hyacinth and the insistent murmur of bees fill the ears.
The door bell to the Apothecary, or so the cracked golden letters on the storefront window read, jingles. With a slight groan of protest from hinges left too long unoiled, the door opens. Within, several beings converse over the counter. Their countenances are uncertain shimmering and twi
Folk Tales: 'Death's House'Folk Tales: 'Death's House' by Bluewyrm
Far above the mortal realms - higher than the flight of the albatross, through the very clouds themselves - lies The Up Above. Home to the Gods and their fierce Angels; wild and uncaring and vague; one vast stack of paperwork carved into marble and mist and song. Its towers and spires glisten in the harsh silver light of the sun, unfiltered by mist or smog, undimmed by constant wind and acid of countless mortal fingers as the pale imitations that spring up below are. And at the edge of the gleaming districts, where the clouds that are also stone begin to lose cohesion and show their true form; there stands an immense edifice: and it is Death's House.
Immense columns of obsidian and basalt and other dark stones without name or number, smoother than the mind can perceive at the base and intricately carved at the top an eldritch edifice that bends and warps the mind to perceive, terrifying in its strangeness. Open the door and step within, into the dim gloom of Death's House. Yard
Hmm, let's see. |
I am a Christian, I like to draw, make up TONS of stories, run around in the woods, play mandolin, and I'm obsessed with doodling dragons.