New Story in the works!

Thanks to a lot of prodding from one of my very best friends, Joanna, I have begun to work on a story about a dragon, and a book that he is reading.

If you have any dragon related stories, artwork or etc that you would like to share- I would love to hear from you!

I will post a few excerpts as soon as they make it past the very vicious purple ink of my editor.

Again, keep me in the loop with your comments and requests- I love to write for the people who can manage to read what I have written :)


(The picture is from http://dark.pozadia.org as part of their downloadable dragon wallpapers)

Duty Versus Love

This is not my original work. But an illustrative story that I was told. I am not sure who the original author is, or if it is one of those things that simply lives in the collection of cool and inspiration things that we use to keep us going.

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A man and a woman got married, but there was no true love in the relationship.

The man did not understand what a real marriage meant, and he was very controlling and demanding. So much so that he sat down and created a list of his demands and expectations, reaching even as far as writing down when his wife must wake up, when his food must be ready, and exactly how the house should be taken care of in his absence.

This really grated on his wife and caused a lot of conflict in their marriage, but duty compelled her and she struggled to meet these demands. A number of restless and disgruntled years pass in this manner, until one day a bar fight gets out of hand and the man passes away.

Over time the woman meets another man and this time actually falls in love. Her love was returned in kind by this man, and he cherished her with everything that he had. They took their time but eventually were married in a wedding filled with true bliss and happiness. And even after marriage, the husband treasured his wife and devoted his life to doing things to show her how much she meant to him.

As life goes on, the woman sighs in joy at not being held to a list of demands and feels liberated. A few years down the road of this blissful journey, she discovers an old piece of paper tucked away in a cupboard. Unrolling it, she is startled to find a copy of her previous husbands demanding list of expectations. Leaning against the counter she began to read it once again.

A tear slowly drips down her face as she perused the document, and even more glisten in her eyes as she finishes it and slowly drops it to the counter. Despite the tears, a broad smile creases her face and she gives a small giggle of surprised glee. For she realized that despite not having a list of demands from her husband, she was still doing the things that the previous one had demanded.

Only this time, she was doing them for love and not for duty.

More than a Storm.

Steely gray eyes stare relentlessly across the void. Dark and full eyebrows furrowed as the man contemplated the unknowable questions of life. A slight twitch sets firm jaw muscles quivering as he turns slightly and glares down at the packed grass beneath his feet. His visage remains a mask for a few moments more, as certain thoughts rumble inside his head. A speck of gold briefly swims in the depths of his brown eyes before he closes his eyelids and emits a painful groan.

Resolutely, the man places one foot in front of the other and forces himself to walk forward a few paces, leaving his residence behind and stumbling into the open space for a brief moment. Dropping down to land upon a single bent knee, the man grimaces as he struggles to hold back his fears and even his tears. Flinging his head back as if to let loose a fierce yell, he is suddenly enchanted by the vision of the few moon above him, only slightly hidden by the clouds. But that very beauty soon begins to eat at him and the conflicted emotions crossing his face tells a tale to which not even a bard could do full justice.

Thoughts churning in his head, the man cannot even decide which thought to entertain, nor which emotion is truly suited. His low voiced growl of frustration is answered with a responding rumble of thunder and he briefly glances around before deciding that his inner storm is more important than any outside force.

"Do I love her?" rings in his head, demanding an answer that he can not seem to provide. The romantic idea of love pulls at him, but how can he know what is true when his emotions change every second. A fond memory of a moment with her surfaces and a slow smile steals across cracked lips. But then comes a harsh reminder of the truth in her actions and he growls in pure frustration. Sweet words seem to linger in the air, as conversations replay in his mind. Forcibly he reminds himself of the value as words, remembering the last kiss she shared with her as she chose a different path.

Anger pours through him now, though at himself and with no other target. "I swore that I knew better. Swore I was not going to let myself get hurt. I Swore that I could be just friends and not ask for anything more." A knotted fist pounds the dirt beside him and feels moist dirt cover his flesh. Surprised, the man opens his eyes and notices that rain has begun falling in a steady cadence. A wry chuckle echos in the air around him, as the realization strikes home that the weather is most appropriate to his current situation.

With that realization, it is as if a dam bursts within him and suddenly he can not hold back. Fire burns through his blood as he feels the heat of passion again, feels the touch of her skin and hears the pearling tones of her laughter. Raindrops land upon his skin and hiss away in steam as his body reacts to the recollection of her caress. A bolt of lightning rips across the night sky, splitting the world asunder in exactly the same moment as pain and loss fills the heart of the man. Screaming out against the dark of night, he feels again the hurt burning inside when he saw her in the arms of another man. Rage pours forth from him now, though he held it in then. "Remember, you had no claim. She was his and not yours, what right do you have to be angry".

His own words seem to slap him across the face and he stumbles for a moment, recognizing the pang of jealousy in the last flickers of the lightning leaping between clouds. Truth settles in his soul as he remembers those last fateful moments. He told her to choose, told her that there can only be one world in her life. Told her that he would accept whatever she chose and walk that path happily. But his tears coursing down his face begin to mix with the heavy raindrops that are hurtling down around him. "It would never work, there is much wrong. She doesn't even know me" he tells himself in a mumbled exertion. And just as he begins to feel a moment of comfort in that, suddenly he recalls the sparkle in her eyes as they share a moment just gazing at each other. Nothing else exists when she looks at him like that, the entire world stands still.

Stumbling to his feet against the wind and rain, the man stares forlornly into a night which he can no longer see. Every second that he breaths comes another emotion. Deep down, he knows that the past is the past and what has ended will not begin again. Practical thoughts seem to have little hold at this moment though, as another lightning bolt crackles down to shatter the tree next to him. Bowing his head for a moment, he breathes deeply to calm his thoughts. When he raises his eyes again, the fire in his eyes is reflected by the burning branches twisting against the thunderstorm. At last his emotions begin to fade, replaced by the soft patter of a healing rain. Once again, he places one foot in front of the other and continues along his journey. A gentle breeze caresses his face and gently tugs at his lips until he graces the world with a brief smile. Perhaps there is hope for the future after all. As the storm inside ends, the world outside no longer looks so grim.

The Decision: To be a Squire or a Knight

This is for H.A.

He requested a story and some advice that deals with how to approach the realization that you made a mistake and turned away someone for whom you had real feelings. I hope you enjoy and feel free to comment.

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The squire stares into space, eyes open but unseeing.

The gentle cry of a hawk sounds in the distance, but even that majestic sound fails to leave an impression. The world spins upon its axis, and yet still the squire stares. Searching forward in time, seeking answers to questions he is not even able to properly form. In all of his musing, no escape from the past presents itself and now the present demands attention. Closing his eyes tight, he remembers the infamous words that he can never seem to retract. He really did tell her that "I don't really love you like that".

A frustrated huff escapes the lips of the brooding squire, as he leans back against the tree he has taken refuge in. At one point, he was the epitome of confidence. Always knew what he wanted and where he was going, strode briskly forward and took life by the horns. Smooth and assured, it seems like nothing would ever go wrong. But now, now how can he go on? How can he face tomorrow when the memory of yesterday flashes before his eyes seemingly every second. He was sure he knew what he wanted, that he was never meant to settle down or tie himself to just one place. He was going to be a Knight! A champion whom all would admire, surely he would be sought after and never have to worry about companionship.

Dark furrows creased the brow of the squire, in complete contrast to the peaceful stillness of the meadow around him. Within his mind, a mental storm raged with utmost ferocity. Questions forming and dashed aside, emotions roiling but not addressed. How had things gotten this way, what had so complicated his life now? It was one simple sight, and yet he can never forget it or block it out. How dare he be so upset, so torn and lovesick, when he was the one who told her to move on. And yet nothing else matters but the repeating image of her full lips firmly locked upon those of another man.

One thought beats a tune in his mind until finally he can focus upon it. Does he really care that deeply for her, or is it just the fact that she has found comfort in the arms of another that has so upset him? A discomforting thought for sure, he slowly muses while clenching his armored fists against each other. His training has taught him to be calm and slow in his reactions, to judge the situation and determine outcomes before moving. And yet every time that he comes back to considering this problem before him, it is as if nothing else matters. The simple fact that he wants to see her, hold her, kiss her again has completely distracted him from all other worries. Even his weapons lie beside him in disarray, no longer able to keep his mind away from these pestering questions.

As a lonely cloud drifts across the pale blue sky, the squire feels a determination building up within him. These feelings can not be false, how deep they are and how much they have affected him. Something must surely be true here. Slowly his internal storm resides and he grows steadier, his eyes beginning to glow again as he realizes that he again has confidence. Now instead of regretting what is lost, he ponders how to address his errors and regain the rhythm to his heartbeat. How do you take back words that can never be retracted, how do you heal a pain that one should experience in the first place. No wizard stood before the squire with an easy answer or a magical wand to wave. His mentors and Knights taught him the art of battle and combat, not of navigating the powerful currents known as love.

Pulling himself onto one knee, the squire plants his sword into the dirt and leans upon the hilt. Surely there must be an answer, a recourse to address this terrible tragedy. Chivalry would not allow for the most direct means of simply marching into her presence, grabbing her close, and telling her that he was wrong. Besides, how could she possibly believe or listen to him if he did that? It would look like the arrogant action of one who is jealous and believes he has a claim. No, this path must be slowly trod and carefully measured. If the feelings beating within his chest were true and as deep as he considered them, then they would be his guidance. He must harken back to the times of yore, realized what she cared for and prove that he truly listened and cared about the things that she cares about. To prove that he truly cares about her.

Muscles rippling beneath him, the squire steadily rises and strides forward. No true answer has yet presented itself, but he is determined that he will not give up without a fight. A Knight shall not be known for moping around wondering what might have been, and so this squire has decided to act like a Knight even before receiving his spurs. He must tell her of his feelings, this is obvious. But only if he truly cares and has paid attention to the beat of her heart does he have a chance. If he cared only for her attention and not truly for her, then it would be best to turn away now and mold himself to be the Knight of the future. In his heart beats the truth, the truth of his decision.

As the squire disappears into the gathering dusk, a question lingers. How does someone prove that their love is true, that the words of the past where a mistake, that there is a future together? The soft twitter of birds as they come to rest in the tree branches illuminate an answer. Slow down and stick to the true beat of the heart, take the time to show a true interest, communicate, be open and honest. No excuses uttered to hide painful admissions, but only words of truth backed by honest actions of caring. And then the strength to accept the response and bear it like a true Knight.