Corvus' Short Scenes!!

[Medium he/they]

...damn i guess you did

[Morningtide she/her]

That's so creepy and awesome!

[The Halcyon Girl she/her]

When I read these, first I can’t tell whether it’s poetry or not. Your way with words is just… there are no words. That’s all there is to it. So wonderful job.

[Medium he/they]

On 10/17/2022 at 4:48 PM, The Halcyon Girl said:

When I read these, first I can’t tell whether it’s poetry or not. Your way with words is just… there are no words. That’s all there is to it. So wonderful job.

Thanks Haly

And now, Scene #76: Wings.

Spoiler

I strode up to the cliff's edge, looking over.

“Eugh,” I said, stretching my mouth. “That’s quite a drop.”

Ella looked out over the edge, face blank. “Mhm,” She said.

I looked at her. “Why’d you bring me out here?”

She hesitated, looking down. The way she looked over the edge… it was almost like she longed to jump.

“There’s,” She started, “There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

“Is it important?”

She shrugged. “I would think so. It’s pretty shocking.”

I waved a hand, “I won’t judge.”

Ella raised an eyebrow at me. I laughed. “I won’t!” I walked up to her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “I won’t,” I said, more seriously.

She looked at me, then looked down, putting her head on my chest.

I put my arms around her, and she groaned. I laughed again.

“Stop laughing, this is serious!” She whined.

I laughed harder, letting go of her. “I’m sorry,” I said between laughs, “I’m sorry, I know, I’m stupid and mean.”

“No you’re not, you’re just an idiot.”

I snapped my fingers, and pointed. “That too.”

She grinned. Then she got serious again.

“This secret was impossibly hard to keep from you, Jake. It was so. Hard.” She said.

I smiled reassuringly. “Then tell me,” I said softly, “You know I’ll listen. I’ve listened to everything else already.”

“Yes, you have. But this is the biggest secret.” She said, “I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“Is there a way to show it?” I asked.

She nodded slowly, face grim. “You’re not gonna like it.”

I smiled, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “Try me,” I whispered.

She took my hand and pulled me to the edge. She then gently pushed me back a bit.

“Close your eyes,” She said, “And open them after a few seconds.”

I frowned, but complied.

When I opened my eyes, she was gone. My stomach dropped. I cursed, and started to run up to the edge.

And then a shape flew up over the edge in a flurry of feathers. The sound was beautiful, a layered Fwoosh! Of massive wings beating the air.

It landed in front of me, and it was… Ella. But sprouting from her back were wings. Magnificent, soft brown wings.

My jaw dropped.

I was angry, I thought she had fallen off and died. Then I was in shock again, because she had wings. Then I was even more in love, because this was awesome.

She fidgeted with some of the feathers near the bottom. “Well, I showed you. You can leave now, I won’t judge.”

I laughed, mostly out of shock. “Sorry,” I said, “Why would I leave you?”

“Because this isn’t normal? Because I’ve grown up my whole life hiding these things, and anytime someone finds out, they shun me and call me a weirdo, and I don’t want to deal with that?”

I smiled softly. “Ella..” I said, “Ella, you were brave enough to show me your wings. And, I’m gonna be honest, they’re damn near brilliant. I love them.” I reached out and touched them. “I’m actually kind of jealous,” I admitted.

“Jealous? I’m a freak!” I looked at her, and noticed she was tearing up. “I’m a freak!” She repeated, “What reason would you have to love a freak? An outcast?” She said, walking up and pressing her finger into my chest.

“Because, Ella,” I said simply, pulling her close, “You’re my freak. And I’m your freak. Sure, I don’t have wings, but I’m stupid. Stupid enough to have a hankering to jump off the cliff, just to feel like I’m flying. We all have quirks, yours are just more pronounced.”

The wings retreated into her back, and she looked up at me. “So,” She said, “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course not,” I said incredulously, “Those wings are beautiful. If anything, I love you even more.”

I looked at her a bit longer. She sighed. “I know what you’re gonna ask.” She said, smiling knowingly.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not gonna ask anything?” I said quickly.

She chuckled. “Go ahead,” She said.

I grinned sheepishly. “Is there any way I could get some wings?”

She shook her head. “I knew you were gonna ask that.” I laughed. “But, as a matter of fact, there is. But it makes both sets permanent. You won’t be able to retract them like I can.”

I nodded. “Are you up for that?” I asked.

She seemed taken aback, as if she wasn’t expecting me to ask if she was ready for it first. But why wouldn’t I ask? She’d been through the most with them, I wanted to know if she wanted them to be permanent. I could live without them, but I’d still be jealous.

Ella thought for a moment.

“I think,” She said, “I think I’d be okay if you had them too. It’d be easier with two people.”

I smiled. “I agree.”

“C’mere, you.” She said, and she kissed me. My back began to tingle, and then wings of the purest soft, deep brown sprouted out of my back. I broke off the kiss, instead admiring my new wings. I spread them wide, then hopped up and down, clapping my hands.

“You are so immature.” Ella said, and laughed. But then she took both my hands, and dragged me backwards off the cliff.

And then we flew.

 

[Morningtide she/her]

Oh that's so good!

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

Calano, at one point, and I can't remember where exactly, you said something along the lines of:

"Yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic. Deal with it."

...Reading these has only enforced that fact.

But seriously, these are good. Some of them are really powerful. I can't wait to see what you keep writing!

[Szeth's Facepalm]

Haha the wings one is so cute

[Medium he/they]

11 hours ago, The Bookwyrm said:

Calano, at one point, and I can't remember where exactly, you said something along the lines of:

"Yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic. Deal with it."

...Reading these has only enforced that fact.

But seriously, these are good. Some of them are really powerful. I can't wait to see what you keep writing!

I did say that, and will say that. It's what I am. I get excited when characters get into relationships, and I love putting my characters into relationships.

6 hours ago, Szeth's Facepalm said:

Haha the wings one is so cute

Yeah it was more informal and flowy than the last one. I just let my feelings guide my writing, writing romance and secrets into the page. I'm no stranger to secrets, and I know how difficult it is to tell your partner your deepest secrets.

But I say this;

It is one of the best feelings after you tell them. Because if they're a true partner, and they truly care about your feelings, they will not be scared away. They will be there for you, share your burdens.

I'm no stranger to pain. I'm no stranger to sorrow and secrets. But sharing my sorrow and my secrets, is one of the best things I could have done.

[Morningtide she/her]

Actual poetry that. 

[Medium he/they]

Scene #77: The Narrator.

I might turn this into something. Perhaps another vignette.

Spoiler

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am the Narrator. I Narrate all.

I see all, I know all. I watch what unfolds.

I do not intervene. I never intervene.

I have not bothered to learn the names of our cast. I have given them my own names.

The Giver.

The Puppet King.

The Rebel.

The Broken One.

The Tyrant.

The Sidekick.

The Warrior.

The Flaming One.

The Golden One.

The Sleeping One.

And The Winged Father.

This is some of our cast. This is their story.

I will tell you their story. I will Narrate it for you.

I hope you enjoy it.

 

Edited October 24, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[Morningtide she/her]

Ooooh. That would be a great prelude to a book. It makes me want to read more

[Medium he/they]

Working on more right now, actually. A decent little vignette/flash fiction.

[Morningtide she/her]

Yay!

[Szeth's Facepalm]

14 hours ago, CalanoCorvus said:

It is one of the best feelings after you tell them. Because if they're a true partner, and they truly care about your feelings, they will not be scared away. They will be there for you, share your burdens.

I'm no stranger to pain. I'm no stranger to sorrow and secrets. But sharing my sorrow and my secrets, is one of the best things I could have done.

this is so pretty <3 and it's totally true, not just with romantic partners, but with people you love platonically too. I know that I could tell my best friend anything and he'd be there for me, and it's the best feeling in the world.

also random n silly but grammarly put a nerd emoji on the paragraphs of yours that i quoted lmao

[Medium he/they]

Scene #78: The Narrator Narrates

Spoiler

Entry 1:

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am the Narrator. I Narrate all.

I see all, I know all. I watch what unfolds.

I do not intervene. I never intervene.

I have not bothered to learn the names of our cast. I have given them my own names.

The Giver.

The Puppet King.

The Rebel.

The Broken One.

The Tyrant.

The Sidekick.

The Warrior.

The Flaming One.

The Golden One.

The Sleeping One.

And The Winged Father.

This is some of our cast. This is their story.

I will tell you their story. I will Narrate it for you.

I hope you enjoy it.

 

Entry 2:

In the beginning, it was The Giver, The Flaming One, and The Sleeping One. They began their story in a forest not far from here.

You might be wondering, why did they intend to begin this story.

Some say they had… a Dream. Others,

Others say it was simply boredom. A need for drama.

For violence.

A need for a story. I view the latter as the reason. For it is for this reason that I exist. 

Needless of the reason, they began their story there. More followed behind them.

The Golden One. The Puppet King; although he was not yet the puppet king he became.

First, he was simply… The Blinded. I find it difficult to come up with a name for him. But I have seen behind his glasses. I have seen those blank, white orbs he knows as his eyes.

From The Giver, The Flaming One, The Sleeping One, The Golden One, and The Blinded, came the Rebel, came the Sidekick, came the Broken One, came others.

Their story advanced. And Advanced. And Advanced. The Rebel, The Sidekick, and The Broken One created a nation with others.

The Nation was independent. Independent from the world of the Giver. From the world of The Sleeping One, and The Flaming One.

The Nation was built on the premise of freedom, freedom from tyranny, freedom from oppression.

Good ideals. 

Or, that was what The Leader said.

The Broken One, for a time, was The Leader.

But absolute power corrupts absolutely. The Leader became tired, exhausted from his battle for independence. He began to turn into The Broken One. The Corruption and Scandals in his government, backed by him, were noticed by The Giver, who demanded the Government disband, for fear of disturbing the peace of the world. The Giver’s world.

They refused. And so, The Giver reached out to The Blinded, and offered a great price in exchange for getting The Rebel, The Broken One, and The Sidekick together in one place, where they could be dealt with once and for all.

The Blinded agreed.

And became The Traitor.

The Traitor organized everyone into a chamber underneath The Nation. Then,

An ambush. The Sleeping One, The Flaming One, and The Giver, ambushed The Broken One, The Sidekick, and The Rebel.

The Traitor was banished, and The Traitor became The Puppet King.

The Broken One did not know what to do in order to reclaim his honor and dignity.

The Rebel came to him with an idea. An idea that, if they won, it would be for total independence, or, if they lost, the loss of two items, that stood for the freedom and independence of The Nation.

It was a Duel. The Duel.

The opponents were selected. The Rebel, and The Giver himself.

The date was set.

The Duel would begin.

I watched, from a distance, from afar. I watched The Leader, The Broken One, begin his countdown.

I watched The Rebel turn and fire his bow. I watched The Giver turn and fire his bow.

The Rebel missed. The Giver hit.

The two items were handed over.

This,

Was the beginning of The Revolution.

 

Entry 3:

The Revolution was an upscale of the skirmish between the factions headed by The Giver and The Broken One. It was an all out War.

But it began with the Election.

The Election, after the failure of the Duel, was a way for The Broken One to preserve his unstable grip on The Nation.

Many ran for the position of President. Many new cast members entered our scene,

Including The Loyalist, The Follower, and The Tyrant.

The Loyalist saw an opportunity, and he and The Follower, who had joined forces, joined the campaign of The Tyrant.

It was The Broken One against The Tyrant. For the leadership and perseverance of the Nation.

The Votes came in.

I was there that fateful day, of course. The day that The Tyrant beat The Broken One by a single vote.

I was there, when The Broken One’s spiral into madness began.

The Tyrant, for malicious reasons, banished The Rebel and The Broken One.

The Sidekick stayed. The Sidekick remained, as a double agent.

The Broken One founded a rebellion, a rebellion with The Rebel, and The Warrior, and some others.

The Warrior, skilled in agriculture as well as the Art Of War, provided food for the budding rebellion. And in secret, I noted, he also gathered war materials.

The Tyrant rebranded The Nation, and The Giver was satisfied.

The Loyalist and The Follower, joined by The Sidekick, followed in the wake of The Tyrant.

The Tyrant was seen to be a tyrant, and several times, the morals of The Sidekick came into question as he struggled to remain on the side of The Tyrant.

The Rebellion urged The Sidekick to continue gathering information.

What no one saw, what no one knew, was that The Tyrant was fully aware of what was going on. The Tyrant was secretly planning a festival.

I could not intervene. I could only watch. I watched the malicious planning of The Tyrant, watched as he planned the deaths of so, so many.

He called it The Red Festival.

A celebration of democracy, he called it.

Before the festival, The Sidekick notified The Broken One and The Rebel of the festival, and they hid on a rooftop to watch. Watch as I watched.

The Rebel and The Broken One had planned to kill The Tyrant during his speech.

And then, The Sidekick was asked to give a speech.

And The Sidekick went up onto the stage. Took his place at the Podium.

And The Tyrant ordered The Loyalist and The Follower to trap him in a cell of their own creation.

They did so.

The Tyrant invited The Warrior on stage.

The Warrior knew The Sidekick. And he did not wish to do what he was about to do.

Sadly, one of the great lessons of life is this;

Peer pressure is a powerful thing.

And The Warrior tried to resist, I know he did.

But the crowd was watching, and The Tyrant was watching.

So The Warrior raised his crossbow, loaded with a firework. He put his finger on the trigger.

And pulled.

Then,

Chaos.

The Warrior, after indulging himself in violence, could not stay away from the temptation to launch red and blue death into the crowd.

Sadly, he did just that.

And it was a massacre. A destructive, awful massacre.

 

Entry 4:

Months passed after the horrific events of the Red Festival.

The Warrior won back his forgiveness, both in part from the compassionate heart of The Sidekick, and from his gathering of war materials for the Rebellion.

And then, The Giver appeared.

He told The Broken One that it wasn’t the same anymore. What had happened was unacceptable.

He agreed that The Warrior was not to be blamed anymore, but that the person to be disposed of was The Tyrant.

And so, the forces of The Giver, and the Rebellion, joined together for the same goal.

Topple The Tyrant.

The Warrior brought them to his Vault, supplying them with gear.

And off they went, to stage a Revolution.

They reached the stage where the events of the Red Festival took place.

A dirt structure stood nearby.

I watched, as I always did, and watched them enter the structure.

Inside was The Tyrant.

The Tyrant was drunk.

Heavily. He had no one left. It was just him.

Even The Loyalist and The Follower had left him.

In the words of The Follower, “You had a dream and I followed it. But you brought it all downhill.”

In the words of The Tyrant, “You know, if I die, this country goes down with me.”

Foreboding and prophetic, especially for someone as drunk as The Tyrant.

And then,

The Tyrant clutches his chest.

And he falls to the ground.

Dead.

That was it.

I could feel, just by watching, how the emotion in that room changed.

Everyone, except for two people.

Everyone celebrated.

The Warrior clenched his fist.

The Broken One’s expression darkened.

I wish I could tell you what exactly they were thinking, but I could not.

They all returned to the stage, where everyone voted for The Rebel to take the role of president of The Nation.

Instead, The Rebel handed the position over to The Sidekick.

The Broken One wandered off, to a hidden room. A room with a Button.

The Warrior’s anger grew, and so too did his need for blood.

 

Entry 5:

I’d like to turn your attention to, just for a moment, The Broken One.

And his Button.

And his Room.

You see, I had watched The Broken One for some time. He intrigued me.

For many reasons.

One, he cared deeply for his Nation, more so than the people around him who would help him reclaim his nation. This was his fatal flaw.

Two, his belief was that if he couldn’t have his Nation, if they’re first choice was not to re-elect him,

Then no one could have his nation.

And this Room, this Button, was his solution.

Many times before, I’d watched him come to this room, and just… stand there.

Contemplating.

Worrying.

Stressing.

And today, he began to talk aloud to himself.

He muttered and whispered and shouted, about how many times he’d been here.

How many times he’d been so close to pressing that button.

How many times he’d been so close

And yet nothing.

And then,

The Winged Father.

He tried, oh he tried, but the Broken One was too far Broken.

I cannot effectively describe what was said, so I will simply write his words.

“There was a saying. By a traitor.”

I watched with bated breath, watched him pause, watched him look up, tears in his eyes.

Saw the realization dawn on The Winged Fathers face.

“It was never meant to be.”

The Winged Father lunged.

The Broken One punched.

And then The Nation was gone.

What happened after happened so fast I admit, I do not remember much.

All I know is, The Winged Father ended up killing The Broken One.

I believe The Broken One forced him to do it.

 

Entry 6:

In writing this, I have certainly missed details. I never mentioned The Baker, or The Warden, or anyone else and anything else that happened.

For The God has been chasing me.

There is still so much more to tell, but I can only hide for so long.

I pray, dear reader, you find this land. Or records of this land.

I pray you stumble across a tome, a bottle, anything.

Because then, you can finish what I started.

 

Entry 7:

He is nearby.

The God.

He has been chasing me for… so long.

I have had no time to write.

There is still so much more to tell.

Dear reader, dearest reader, if you ever find this, I pray you share it with the world.

The God looks like The Giver.

I fear that it is not a coincidence.

There is one other thing, before The God inevitably kills me;

He is-

 

[The Wandering Wizard he/him]

45 minutes ago, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #78: The Narrator Narrates

  Hide contents

Entry 1:

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am the Narrator. I Narrate all.

I see all, I know all. I watch what unfolds.

I do not intervene. I never intervene.

I have not bothered to learn the names of our cast. I have given them my own names.

The Giver.

The Puppet King.

The Rebel.

The Broken One.

The Tyrant.

The Sidekick.

The Warrior.

The Flaming One.

The Golden One.

The Sleeping One.

And The Winged Father.

This is some of our cast. This is their story.

I will tell you their story. I will Narrate it for you.

I hope you enjoy it.

 

Entry 2:

In the beginning, it was The Giver, The Flaming One, and The Sleeping One. They began their story in a forest not far from here.

You might be wondering, why did they intend to begin this story.

Some say they had… a Dream. Others,

Others say it was simply boredom. A need for drama.

For violence.

A need for a story. I view the latter as the reason. For it is for this reason that I exist. 

Needless of the reason, they began their story there. More followed behind them.

The Golden One. The Puppet King; although he was not yet the puppet king he became.

First, he was simply… The Blinded. I find it difficult to come up with a name for him. But I have seen behind his glasses. I have seen those blank, white orbs he knows as his eyes.

From The Giver, The Flaming One, The Sleeping One, The Golden One, and The Blinded, came the Rebel, came the Sidekick, came the Broken One, came others.

Their story advanced. And Advanced. And Advanced. The Rebel, The Sidekick, and The Broken One created a nation with others.

The Nation was independent. Independent from the world of the Giver. From the world of The Sleeping One, and The Flaming One.

The Nation was built on the premise of freedom, freedom from tyranny, freedom from oppression.

Good ideals. 

Or, that was what The Leader said.

The Broken One, for a time, was The Leader.

But absolute power corrupts absolutely. The Leader became tired, exhausted from his battle for independence. He began to turn into The Broken One. The Corruption and Scandals in his government, backed by him, were noticed by The Giver, who demanded the Government disband, for fear of disturbing the peace of the world. The Giver’s world.

They refused. And so, The Giver reached out to The Blinded, and offered a great price in exchange for getting The Rebel, The Broken One, and The Sidekick together in one place, where they could be dealt with once and for all.

The Blinded agreed.

And became The Traitor.

The Traitor organized everyone into a chamber underneath The Nation. Then,

An ambush. The Sleeping One, The Flaming One, and The Giver, ambushed The Broken One, The Sidekick, and The Rebel.

The Traitor was banished, and The Traitor became The Puppet King.

The Broken One did not know what to do in order to reclaim his honor and dignity.

The Rebel came to him with an idea. An idea that, if they won, it would be for total independence, or, if they lost, the loss of two items, that stood for the freedom and independence of The Nation.

It was a Duel. The Duel.

The opponents were selected. The Rebel, and The Giver himself.

The date was set.

The Duel would begin.

I watched, from a distance, from afar. I watched The Leader, The Broken One, begin his countdown.

I watched The Rebel turn and fire his bow. I watched The Giver turn and fire his bow.

The Rebel missed. The Giver hit.

The two items were handed over.

This,

Was the beginning of The Revolution.

 

Entry 3:

The Revolution was an upscale of the skirmish between the factions headed by The Giver and The Broken One. It was an all out War.

But it began with the Election.

The Election, after the failure of the Duel, was a way for The Broken One to preserve his unstable grip on The Nation.

Many ran for the position of President. Many new cast members entered our scene,

Including The Loyalist, The Follower, and The Tyrant.

The Loyalist saw an opportunity, and he and The Follower, who had joined forces, joined the campaign of The Tyrant.

It was The Broken One against The Tyrant. For the leadership and perseverance of the Nation.

The Votes came in.

I was there that fateful day, of course. The day that The Tyrant beat The Broken One by a single vote.

I was there, when The Broken One’s spiral into madness began.

The Tyrant, for malicious reasons, banished The Rebel and The Broken One.

The Sidekick stayed. The Sidekick remained, as a double agent.

The Broken One founded a rebellion, a rebellion with The Rebel, and The Warrior, and some others.

The Warrior, skilled in agriculture as well as the Art Of War, provided food for the budding rebellion. And in secret, I noted, he also gathered war materials.

The Tyrant rebranded The Nation, and The Giver was satisfied.

The Loyalist and The Follower, joined by The Sidekick, followed in the wake of The Tyrant.

The Tyrant was seen to be a tyrant, and several times, the morals of The Sidekick came into question as he struggled to remain on the side of The Tyrant.

The Rebellion urged The Sidekick to continue gathering information.

What no one saw, what no one knew, was that The Tyrant was fully aware of what was going on. The Tyrant was secretly planning a festival.

I could not intervene. I could only watch. I watched the malicious planning of The Tyrant, watched as he planned the deaths of so, so many.

He called it The Red Festival.

A celebration of democracy, he called it.

Before the festival, The Sidekick notified The Broken One and The Rebel of the festival, and they hid on a rooftop to watch. Watch as I watched.

The Rebel and The Broken One had planned to kill The Tyrant during his speech.

And then, The Sidekick was asked to give a speech.

And The Sidekick went up onto the stage. Took his place at the Podium.

And The Tyrant ordered The Loyalist and The Follower to trap him in a cell of their own creation.

They did so.

The Tyrant invited The Warrior on stage.

The Warrior knew The Sidekick. And he did not wish to do what he was about to do.

Sadly, one of the great lessons of life is this;

Peer pressure is a powerful thing.

And The Warrior tried to resist, I know he did.

But the crowd was watching, and The Tyrant was watching.

So The Warrior raised his crossbow, loaded with a firework. He put his finger on the trigger.

And pulled.

Then,

Chaos.

The Warrior, after indulging himself in violence, could not stay away from the temptation to launch red and blue death into the crowd.

Sadly, he did just that.

And it was a massacre. A destructive, awful massacre.

 

Entry 4:

Months passed after the horrific events of the Red Festival.

The Warrior won back his forgiveness, both in part from the compassionate heart of The Sidekick, and from his gathering of war materials for the Rebellion.

And then, The Giver appeared.

He told The Broken One that it wasn’t the same anymore. What had happened was unacceptable.

He agreed that The Warrior was not to be blamed anymore, but that the person to be disposed of was The Tyrant.

And so, the forces of The Giver, and the Rebellion, joined together for the same goal.

Topple The Tyrant.

The Warrior brought them to his Vault, supplying them with gear.

And off they went, to stage a Revolution.

They reached the stage where the events of the Red Festival took place.

A dirt structure stood nearby.

I watched, as I always did, and watched them enter the structure.

Inside was The Tyrant.

The Tyrant was drunk.

Heavily. He had no one left. It was just him.

Even The Loyalist and The Follower had left him.

In the words of The Follower, “You had a dream and I followed it. But you brought it all downhill.”

In the words of The Tyrant, “You know, if I die, this country goes down with me.”

Foreboding and prophetic, especially for someone as drunk as The Tyrant.

And then,

The Tyrant clutches his chest.

And he falls to the ground.

Dead.

That was it.

I could feel, just by watching, how the emotion in that room changed.

Everyone, except for two people.

Everyone celebrated.

The Warrior clenched his fist.

The Broken One’s expression darkened.

I wish I could tell you what exactly they were thinking, but I could not.

They all returned to the stage, where everyone voted for The Rebel to take the role of president of The Nation.

Instead, The Rebel handed the position over to The Sidekick.

The Broken One wandered off, to a hidden room. A room with a Button.

The Warrior’s anger grew, and so too did his need for blood.

 

Entry 5:

I’d like to turn your attention to, just for a moment, The Broken One.

And his Button.

And his Room.

You see, I had watched The Broken One for some time. He intrigued me.

For many reasons.

One, he cared deeply for his Nation, more so than the people around him who would help him reclaim his nation. This was his fatal flaw.

Two, his belief was that if he couldn’t have his Nation, if they’re first choice was not to re-elect him,

Then no one could have his nation.

And this Room, this Button, was his solution.

Many times before, I’d watched him come to this room, and just… stand there.

Contemplating.

Worrying.

Stressing.

And today, he began to talk aloud to himself.

He muttered and whispered and shouted, about how many times he’d been here.

How many times he’d been so close to pressing that button.

How many times he’d been so close

And yet nothing.

And then,

The Winged Father.

He tried, oh he tried, but the Broken One was too far Broken.

I cannot effectively describe what was said, so I will simply write his words.

“There was a saying. By a traitor.”

I watched with bated breath, watched him pause, watched him look up, tears in his eyes.

Saw the realization dawn on The Winged Fathers face.

“It was never meant to be.”

The Winged Father lunged.

The Broken One punched.

And then The Nation was gone.

What happened after happened so fast I admit, I do not remember much.

All I know is, The Winged Father ended up killing The Broken One.

I believe The Broken One forced him to do it.

 

Entry 6:

In writing this, I have certainly missed details. I never mentioned The Baker, or The Warden, or anyone else and anything else that happened.

For The God has been chasing me.

There is still so much more to tell, but I can only hide for so long.

I pray, dear reader, you find this land. Or records of this land.

I pray you stumble across a tome, a bottle, anything.

Because then, you can finish what I started.

 

Entry 7:

He is nearby.

The God.

He has been chasing me for… so long.

I have had no time to write.

There is still so much more to tell.

Dear reader, dearest reader, if you ever find this, I pray you share it with the world.

The God looks like The Giver.

I fear that it is not a coincidence.

There is one other thing, before The God inevitably kills me;

He is-

 

WHERE'S THE ENDING!

I really liked this one, JUST WHERE IS THE ENDING!

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

[Medium he/they]

that was the ending.

that was the ending.

[Morningtide she/her]

Oh my gosh that's so good! It's insane. You cruel person that ending tho

[Medium he/they]

Who wants me to pick up where it ended? Who wants me to write more? I'd like to, but do y'all want it?

I think y'all do, based on your reactions.

[Morningtide she/her]

YES

[The Wandering Wizard he/him]

YES

[Medium he/they]

lmao k i'll get to work. idk when it'll be done but I'll work on it.

[Medium he/they]

Scene 78.1: Entry 8.

Spoiler

Entry 8:

I found this journal not far from Kinoko Kingdom.

Next to this journal, I discovered, were a pair of skeletal remains.

The Narrator, I assume.

I am sorry.

I will follow in his footsteps, and strive to finish this journal, while keeping the cast and myself anonymous.

I was not in the cast he originally wrote about, although I knew and still know most of them.

I stumbled upon this journal while journeying to the Outer Lands. I read it, and it recounted what occurred before I came to this land.

And so I guess… I guess I will recount what has happened to me in this land. As I have no way, short of the long travel to Kinoko Library, to find out what happened after these events, but before I arrived.

My name is The Fool. In the same way as The Narrator before me, I have selected a title for myself. This was difficult, as there are many titles I could have selected for myself.

But this is the most effective.

One note of interest is that I am quite old. Older than most, older than even The Warrior or The Winged Father.

Because of this, you would expect me to easily know both the history of this land, and my own history.

You expect wrong, on both accounts.

I know only what I was here to witness in this land.

I remember… flashes of my own history.

I guess, for a bit, I’ll tell you bits and pieces, hopefully that can help explain parts of what happened, anywhere.

After all, this is but a story. A true one, but a story.

this will be a continuing saga, and once it's done, i'll print it as a book and post the link to where it can be bought in case y'all want it.

the same thing will be done once I hit 100 vignettes (minus these ones, as these will be in the seperate one)

[Morningtide she/her]

OOOOOOOh

[Medium he/they]

Scene 78.11: Entry 9

Spoiler

Entry 9:

I think it best to start with my story.

And to do that, you’ll have to bear with me.

I do not remember how or when I was born.

I do not remember where I grew up.

I do not remember how I became the way that I am.

I only remember waking up one day to flames, and death, and carnage.

I fled my home that day. I do not remember my home.

But I remember the flames, and the smoke, and the screams.

I will not soon forget, even after these many millennia.

I wandered for centuries, until finding this strange land.

Here, I slowly remembered memories, and created a land based on the land I came from.

I built a life. I built, and I built, and I built.

But, while writing this, I can’t help but realize that I cannot be the one to tell you the full story for this place.

So, I will hand the journal over to another. But first, I will recount my experience with an evil force that has, as of recently, plagued this land.

Deep underground, there is an Egg. This.. Egg is something of a nuisance.

I originally thought the Egg to be.. intriguing and enticing. But, after encountering the Egg and discovering what it really did…

I could not stand by and let it corrupt this land. Or me.

So, I left. I resisted. I forgot about the Egg.

And then the man who had discovered the Egg, the man who caressed and coddled the Egg, protected the Egg, he hosted a Banquet.

And at this Banquet, he laid a trap, and killed… so many.

But not without a price. Allies came and created quite a skirmish. Members of his own party died as well.

I myself lost a life there, trying to destroy the Egg. And when I returned, awakening in my home, I noted the tinge of red fleeing my vision.

I recognized the Egg’s grip. I realized then I could hear its voice.

The Egg did not take kindly to me attempting to kill it. I still, even now, hear its voice.

That is all I can say. I still know so little, as I confine myself to my domain, in solitude, to build.

 

Edited October 31, 2022 by CalanoCorvus