Topic: Grains of Sand

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-14 23:43 EST
As the sun met the sea, sinking into the watery depths, scattering its light like a thousand wave-swept gems, Connar rose from the beach, brushing grains of sand from off his clothing. A steady breeze swept his hair across his shoulders and face, as he drew in a breath, the rolling of the sea taking his thoughts for a journey.

He contemplated the irony of sand?how, when surrounded by water, it became a haven, a retreat. Yet remove the water and sand suddenly becomes desert, where the sun becomes an enemy, and life a struggle.

Connar had spent the better part of his life, if one could call his endurance on earth a life, surrounded by the desert. There was something about the tenuous nature of life among the sand and nomads that appealed to him. Life was precious, friendship enduring, the simple pleasures, like an oasis, treasured, cherished and revered.

Rhydin, at times, presented herself like an oasis. At other times, she could be as barren as a wasteland. And yet, the watery beach and the harsh desert are only defined by the feet that rest upon them. Like the sea, all have varied depths and surfaces. Like the wind, all are free to caress or buffet. Like the numberless grains of sand, all are nothing special in the grand scheme of things, but even as the single grain, each is unique, special, of boundless and varied potential.

The light of the city would call once more, and though he might answer, he knew his time spent in Rhydin would diminish with each rising and falling of the sun. As a damsel in distress, his world cried for his attention, a relentless quest that knew no beginning and had no end of days.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-24 01:50 EST
?And in the third year of the reign of Jarius II, a winged creature hath emerged from the depths of hell, haunting the nighttime skies, a scourge and bane upon all inhabitants of the land? Marcus Antonio

The townspeople had cornered the beast in a deep cavern at the ocean?s edge, having pelted the creature with stones, axes, and any tool they could lay their hands upon, but not before it had ripped a half dozen of the villagers to bloody shreds. A certain number of the townsfolk were celebrating under torchlight, holding aloft the leathery wing they had torn from the beast?s back, while others surrounded the cavern opening with their torches held high, none daring to enter, all content to hold the creature at bay until sunrise. The could hear the creature bellowing from within the recesses of the cavern, its curses echoing out for all to hear.

Connar could see the torch lights from the distance as his spurred his horse up the shoreline, mighty hooves pounding the wet sand and surf as he pushed the steed onward. He had heard the news of the creature?s arrival in this part of his world. He had been summoned by the people, who feared him nearly as much as the creature they now held captive in the cavern. He defied convention, he seemed to transcend mortality, yet he bled when cut, bruised when beaten, hungered and thirst when left deprived. This dark knight clad in ancient armor seemed to be wherever evil reared its head or spread its wings.

The crowd parted as he passed through them, sliding from the saddle as the steed neared the cavern opening. He brushed his cloak back over his shoulders as he reached out to take a lit torch from a stunned villager. No one spoke a word to him as he continued his march into the cavern, and it wasn?t until his torchlight was but a faint glimmer in the shadows of the cave that whispered voices hummed feverishly at the entrance.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-24 02:08 EST
The wounded creature had stopped its bellowing as the lone assailant approached, slinking as far back into the darkness as possible. Blood issued from the place where its wing once sat upon its back, the other wing was a mangled mess. Slitted eyes peered ahead as the torch-bearer stepped ever nearer. Fangs were bared in the darkness, a deep, gutteral growl eminated from the bowels of the creature?s chest. The creature would feast one more time, or make a desperate last stand defending itself. Centuries of experience told the creature that it would survive as it had countless times before.

As torch light slowly filled the back end of the cavern, the creatures eyes grew wide as the approaching mortal came into view?this was no villager, no common mercenary. The fanged mouth, once agape now grew to a menacing grin as the creature hissed forth a name from the depths of the remaining shadows?"Connar?"

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-24 02:30 EST
He stopped as he heard his name hissed forth from the darkness. Connar held the torch high in his left hand as his right drew the sword from the sheath strapped to his back. There were too many nooks and crevices where the beast could be hiding, waiting for him to come near enough to strike a surprise blow. If the creature knew his name, then Connar supposed the creature might also know his reputation as a slayer of beasts of all descriptions. He knew not what hid in the shadows, be it dragon, vampire, or any other such creature. It mattered not to him.

Connar spoke, his voice bouncing off the dank cavern walls. ?Your time of hunting in this world is over, creature. Ye will go back to that hell from whence ye were spawned. In this ye have no choice. The manner in which ye return, however, is entirely your choosing.?

The hilt of his sword was gripped tightly. He readied himself for the beast to explode at him from the darkness. The element of surprise was the only advantage left to the creature. Connar knew the creature could not fly, and the close, confining nature of the cave worked to his advantage. He strained his eyes into the darkness ahead, extending the torchlight in front of him. Suddenly, from the darkness, a weak and trembling woman?s voice cried out, causing him to drop the torch to the cold cavern floor, sending embers and sparks in every direction.

?Connar, help? it?s me??

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-25 02:46 EST
The dropped torchlight sent long, wispy shadows along the cavern floor and walls in an unearthly blue light. A woman stepped forth from the shadows, clutching a hurt arm streaked in red against her body. Jade hues glistened in the flickering light of the cave, her blue hair matted, wet and bloody. As she neared within mere meters of Connar, it was he who spoke her name?tentatively, as if to utter it aloud were a curse, ?Shea??

?Oh, Connar, thank the godds you arrived when you did. I was sore afraid that I would never see you again.? The wind-mage?s voice trembled as she spoke, taking small steps toward her would-be rescuer.

Connar stared at her in disbelief. Surely there was some mistake. She couldn?t be the creature he had been sent to destroy. He lowered the sword to his side, his mind racing for clarity, for any semblance of reason.

?Are ye alone, Shea?be there any other here with ye?? He stared into the blackness behind her, watching for any movement, any sign of the creature he hunted.

She took another step forward, only the weakened flames of the torch on the cavern floor standing between them, illuminating the gentle curves of her body, the soft contours of her face. She appeared more beautiful than he had ever seen her. As if in the twinkling of an eye, all that had gone awry between them was suddenly right.

Shea reached over and gently laid her hand upon his arm, his muscles tightening at her touch. ?I have so longed for this day, Connar, when we could finally be together, as it should have been from the beginning.? Her soothing voice reaching out to his heart, shaking the very fibers of his being.

He looked longingly into her eyes, as he had done so many times before when he was lost, adrift in the godless realm. He followed the curve of her cheek, to her long, slender neck. Her skin was soft, smooth, inviting. He wrapped his arm about her waist, drawing her towards him losing himself to her embrace.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-25 02:49 EST
Connar leaned in to kiss her neck as his sword fell with a clang to the cavern floor. He could feel her hand reaching behind his head, fingers raking through his hair, pulling the two of them closer. As his lips neared her skin, two marks began to appear on her neck, small, barely noticeable at first, but soon grew to moistened holes. Blood appeared to issue from them, small trickles at first, but in an instant streaming crimson down her neck. Connar tried to recoil, but she held him fast, her once soft fingers now dug as iron nails into his flesh.

He twisted himself free, shoving Shea back into the shadows as he stooped down to scoop up the sword and torch once more. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob, tears dropping as if rain from her hands. She looked up at him as he staggered backwards, her voice pleading, ?Connar, why?why can?t you love me??

Shea started to move toward him, reaching out, begging for him to return when her body began to shake violently, twisting her in place, as though she were but a rag doll being tossed about by a wild animal. Her body lifted into the air as black wings tore out from her back, her face streaked by tears as she pleaded for him to help her, pointed fangs appearing behind her lips.

Connar stumbled over rocks and debris on the cavern floor as he retreated backwards, watching in horror as she was transfigured before his very eyes, her voice crying out in the blackness of the cavern, ?Why can?t you love me?? The roar of the ocean and the crashing of waves against the rocks drowned out her pleas. He tripped and fell to the floor as the rising tide swept into the cave, showering him with icy water.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-25 03:11 EST
Connar sat upright with a start, clutching at the air for his sword as another blast of ocean spray showered sea water gently across his face. The beach was empty as far as the eye could see as moonlight danced across the cascading waves. He looked about frantically, trying to make rhyme or reason from what he had just seen. There was no cavern, no villagers, nothing resembling where he had been just moments ago in his mind. He rose slowly to his feet, his sword in its sheath, salt water and sweat dripping from his face. Connar exhaled a long-held breath, settling his nerves, calming his beating heart.

He would chalk it up to bad ale or meat from the tavern, spurred on by recent encounters with Shea at the inn. Good-byes did not come easily, nor, evidently did simple friendships. He shook his head, as he rubbed at his eyes, wanting to fully awake from the nightmare that had shaken his soul.

Connar began a slow walk along the shoreline toward the distant lights of the city. He reached his behind his head to rub at the back of his neck only to pull his hand suddenly away to stare down at blood-stained fingertips as he felt the biting sting of salt water meeting an open wound.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-29 14:22 EST
The words I dare not speak would bring sweet tears to your gentle hues of green. Memories of love once shared, now only bring restless nights and questions without answers. Where the air for ye was once soft and carefree, now cause ye to struggle to breathe. I?ve no plan nor purpose in this realm and have only been the harbringer of sadness and despair. Where I was once dead to ye afore, I should be so again, that happiness may return to your days and peace fill your nights.

Connar set the quill down, re-reading the words of the still wet ink. Whether he would ever deliver the letter once finished to Shea, he had yet to decide. For now he felt some sense of duty and relief to just get the words out of his head and upon paper. He leaned his head back against the tree trunk where he sat, a soft breeze fluttering the pages at his side. He had remained awake the entire night, not wanting to revisit the dreamworld that had plagued him the past couple of eves. The early morning sun was rising in the distance, warming the landscape with its golden rays. He closed his eyes, feeling the peaceful calm of the morning, sensing that this would be the start of a new day, a renewal of purpose, that all would be set in its proper place, once and for all.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-29 14:28 EST
Dreams are realities of other worlds, elevating the soul or seeking to conceal it in darkness. The soul travels within the silent realm of the subconscious, caught in the midst of a struggle between light and dark planes, where neutrality does not exist, and the struggle never ends. For the dreamer is not defined by the outcome of a given night?s nocturnal passage, nor whether they are attracted to light or darkness, but, rather, by the marks left on the soul by the eternal struggle ? judged not by the final destination, but by the journey itself. ~ Shri Cha

As his eyes slowly closed, sleep came all too quickly, taking him to the threshold of the nightmare once again. He was walking to the cavern at the ocean?s edge, past the rabble of villagers hoisting aloft the severed wing of the creature that had filled their nights with terror. The wounded beast having retreated to the darkness of the cave, only to be pursued by Connar?s relentless march.

In the shadows the creature cowered, waiting for an opportunity to strike, to reveal itself, and make a final stand, or feed upon its hapless prey. Connar?s torch light slowly illuminated the narrowing end of the cavern and the creatures eyes grew wide as the approaching mortal came into view. Blood dripped from its fanged mouth as the creature hissed forth a name from the depths of the remaining shadows?Connar?

Connar held the torch high in his left hand as his right drew the sword from the sheath strapped to his back. He knew not what hid in the shadows, be it dragon, vampire, or any other such creature. It mattered not to him. Somehow, even in this dreamstate, Connar wearied of the encounter and would see it through to its end.

The hilt of his sword gripped tightly, Connar pressed forward into the blackness. He strained his eyes ahead, extending the torchlight in front of him. Suddenly, from the darkness, a weak and trembling woman?s voice cried out, as she had done each night in his dreams. The torch fell to the cold cavern floor, sending orange embers and bright sparks in every direction.

?Connar?help?me??

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-29 14:32 EST
Shea emerged from the shadows, clutching her arm, blood running from wounds in her neck, painting a cascade of red down her chest. Her green eyes seemed to plead to him from the depths of her very being, as tears cut watery trails through the blood smeared on her face and cheeks.

As Connar stepped towards her, Shea was suddenly pulled back into the shadows, her shrieks and cries muffled in the blackness. The cavern fell eerily quiet and cold. Connar scooped the torch from the ground, extending the flickering light into the depths of the shadows.

A new figure emerged in the shifting blackness, large leathery wings stretching forth from its back, its head was lowered to Shea?s neck as she hung limp in the creature?s grasp. The beast continued feeding on her lifeblood, paying no heed to the advancing warrior.

Connar raised his sword above his shoulder as he accelerated toward the hulking creature, releasing the torch to the ground once more, sending it skittering to the feet of the beast. Sensing the approaching attack, the creature dropped the lifeless body of the wind mage to the cold cavern floor, raising its head as blood ran from its fanged mouth and lips.

Honed steel sliced through the wet, heavy air, but Connar?s blade never reached its mark as the creature swatted away the sword with a sweeping move of its wing, the singular blow sending the weapon to crash against the cavern wall, a reverberating clang shattering the silence.

A massive clawed hand reached out from the darkness, taking Connar about the throat, squeezing slowly and steadily, lifting his feet from off the cavern floor. Connar looked up to face the beast, straining against the force holding him at bay. The torch light at the combatants? feet suddenly grew brighter, filling the cavern with light. He stared in disbelief as he looked upon a nightmare vision of himself, blood streaming down his chin, white fangs snarling back at him, with eyes that were lifeless and black.

He heard his own raspy voice issue forth from the nightmare holding him, as the grip about his throat tightened, choking out the air, ?What is it that ye seek, Connar? What is it that ye seek?? The question echoed over and over until all light and sound was consumed in thick blackness.

Connar Valdor

Date: 2007-05-30 00:52 EST
The suffocating blackness gave way to a star-filled sky. The nightmare had ended once again, though he felt its cold grip yet upon his heart. Connar gazed heavenward, as if looking to the stars he could find an escape, a way out of the prison that bound him tight, but the night sky held no sign nor answer. A west wind blew through the trees, lifting the letter he had started, carrying it out of his sight.

He struggled to push up from the ground, rising slowly on unsteady legs, having to brace his arm against the tree to keep from falling. He walked as one wounded in battle, though he bore no physical signs of the conflict. There was a lonely emptiness all about him, an aching hallow sensation that cut him to the core. He could feel the weight of forever pressing down upon his soul.

Connar paused outside the Inn, gazing through the window at all of all the faces unknown. The imperfect glass cast back a reflection with cold, dark, and empty eyes, the beast from his nightmare, the twisted vision of the creature within. After so many, many years, he was confronting deep-seated fears, about his mortality, the desires of the heart, the weaknesses of the flesh, the will of the soul.