A lovely thought on Human Philosophy...

            All we can do is weep.
            When the blood is shed and the screams still echo, what else is there to do? Hide our dead beneath the earth, where they won’t see our weakness. Cry harder, wail louder; there’s nothing else that can be done.
            Humans as a whole, I’ve learned, despise being unable to alter such things. We are innately power hungry creatures, seeking to usurp the highest proven dominion over us; that of cruel nature. The fear of our helplessness to completely control that dominion is what fuels the rebellion against that living system that brought us into being.
            But there is nothing else to be done. At the end of the day, we cannot stop the flood or storm, we can’t destroy the sickness on our own, and we cannot reverse the irreversible. Our wild, unbroken natures can’t stand the thought of such powerlessness. For it is nature who made us this way, even as we seek to overpower her influence.
            So we weep. We scream. We curse the deaf ears of the universe.
            And nothing changes.
             

Just playing around a bit...

The Astrolic was meant to unite a scattered world through peace and diplomacy.
            He instead took it upon himself to bind it together by force.
            It was the most ancient, overused method for such conquerors and the many power-hungry, but my country wasn’t the first to fall into this new conglomerate empire. Not one sovereign nation was prepared for the Astrolic. He wasn’t so much prideful of his might, or hungry for glory, as we are used to such conquerors being. His terrifyingly cruel, unreadable yet powerful determination was something no one seemed to know how to defend against.

Perhaps we were all meant to be part of one World Empire. The individual forces of each country were simply too small, too selective. As prepared as we thought we were for any invasion, these individualities were stolen, our names taken and forced into cooperation.
            I hated him; that man whose face I’d never seen. He twisted the prophecies and hopes for the Astrolic into a terror of blood and anger, and without any excuse for fear and pain. I had no desire to be a part of the world he was creating.
            I wanted to run, leave the country, but failed to convince my family of the same. I couldn’t leave them alone to stand against an invasion they had no choice but to face.
            So I chose another method of escape. Something more deadly.

           

           

An excerpt from a very, very rough draft... ^^'

Jillian felt her blood running cold as she heard the tense chatter of the townsfolk.
            “A brutal attack on numerous holdings…” “Ghosts in the daylight...” “Several pledglinks destroyed…” “Such crippling power…”
            Brother…
            She kept her skin hidden and her head covered under a heavy cloak and she hurried through the streets. She could sense her blatantly suspicious appearance and behavior was severely bothering the people around her, but didn’t have the convenience to bother with their comfort. Even her hurried manner of passage through the town caused a slight unrest. She didn’t dare stop, though; for fear her legs would not continue on through her paralyzing fear.
            They all whispered among themselves; beside every alleyway and in front of every obscure building, there was an anxiety apart from any curiosity a heavily cloaked stranger might cause. There was something real, something dangerous, and very nearby.
            Smoke was starting to rise over the cliffs. The stuff reeked of pain and sorrow; broken pledges made by this world’s entity. Jillian consciously kept far away from the source of it. She never dared go near any sites where that terrible sin had taken place. She knew that if she saw the evidence of what Wren was doing, she couldn’t condone it any longer. And she had to, for the sake of the remaining of their ruined, pitiful people.
            And she would never allow herself to judge her brother. She could never, not when he was condemning himself to the irrevocable price he would have to pay when this was all done.
            The telltale call of the Lord Prior’s summon sent her sprinting for the nearest dingy alleyway, curling up silently against the darkness as she waited for the Prior’s entourage to pass. The echoes of hopeful cheers from the people as their beloved steward passed through were haunting wisps in the enveloping darkness where Jillian hid; a place where she had spent her whole life, where her people had spent all of their lives, and their long lines of distant ancestors before them. This world was just too bright, too painfully brilliant.
            ‘We’re only strangers here. By every Law of Order, we shouldn’t exist in this place. This is so wrong…..’ She thought miserably. But there was no place left for them to exist. In reality, they shouldn’t even be alive at all. It would certainly have been better for this bright, foreign new world if their race had all died in their own universe, where they had truly failed.
            So many were going to suffer here, so much life and progress destroyed….for the sake of a few dying refugees. But they had to continue on. Survival was their only option, overriding any morality, justice, mercy, or honor. Nothing else mattered.
            ‘And Wren…he has to die for this….for us….
            …for nothing.’

Introduction

In anticipation of my prospective future as a writer/editor, I decided to start this blog so I can post my many pieces as they're written, as well as personal ideas for stories. There's also a great deal of unfinished or never-read work I have lying around, most of which I'd to clean up and post here.

The best way to improve one's writing is simply to write, and write, and write. So expect some very rough work at first, which will then be edited and improved over time.

Feel free to leave questions, comments, thoughts, ideas, concerns, or criticisms :)