Corvus' Short Scenes!!

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

1 hour ago, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #91: In Your Arms

This is a continuation of Scene #89.

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Hours later, after most of the battle had concluded, Cyrus stood atop the hill, looking out over the carnage.

When he had arrived, the sky was blue, the sun high.

And now, the sky was still blue, but tainted by clouds of black smoke, the sun low on the horizon, creating a scene as if from hell.

He looked down at the fires burning, little fights and duels still going on.

And then, through the smoke, walked a High Kaladorian Warrior.

Cyrus paled, the dark smoke around him a sharp contrast to his skin. The Kaladorian strode purposefully across the battlefield.

Cyrus searched across the battlefield for his love, Attica.

Time seemed to slow down as he looked. Was she okay? Was she still fighting?

He found her, armor still gleaming, ponytail whipping around as she spun, cutting down foe after foe.

Knowing she was okay bolstered him a bit, and he drew his sword, then ran down the hill.

The battle wasn’t over yet, and he intended to secure a duel with the High Kaladorian Warrior, to kill him himself.

Cyrus ran at the Kaladorian and shouted, raising his sword. The Kaladorian turned, drew his sword, and blocked Cyrus’ blow.

Simply. Almost lazily.

This infuriated Cyrus, who unleashed a wicked attack of Tuvin battle techniques.

Klan Tuvin lived along the west bank of the River Tuvin, sharing its name. Their techniques were fluid, yet powerful. They harnessed their emotions and turned them into graceful, flowing moves, which struck with passion and force.

The Kaladorian responded, firmly pressing his attack forward. His helm shone in the refracted light of the evening sun, and his eyes seemed to bore into Cyrus’s.

Back and forth they went, slashing and slicing, neither gaining the upper hand for any longer than a few seconds.

“Cyrus!” Attica shouted from across the battlefield.

Cyrus smashed into the Kaladorians sword, sending him sprawling backwards. Cyrus leaped backwards, turning to look at Attica. Her face was panicked, glancing between him and the Kaladorian. She sprinted towards him, and he grabbed her hand, pressing a firm kiss to the back of it.

“You thought you were going to fight him alone?” She asked.

“You were busy. And I like a challenge every now and then.” He replied.

“And you didn’t call me?” She asked again.

Cyrus shrugged. “I wanted to see if I could take him.”

Attica smiled, glancing towards the Kaladorian. “Well, now you can.” She muttered.

“Such little faith, love?” Cyrus asked with a chuckle.

“Only in him,” She said, gesturing to the Kaladorian.

She turned, drew her sword, and dashed at the Kaladorian, who had risen and was preparing a move. Attica laughed, blocking the attack with her sword, as Cyrus ran in to slash at the man's helm.

The Kaladorian dodged the blow, and stepped backward. Attica brandished her sword at the man, and Cyrus stood nearby, ready to strike.

The Kaladorian glanced between the two, then, quicker than a blink, struck out at Attica.

Apparently, he had been holding back on his true skill.

Attica didn’t have time to block.

The Kaladorian’s sword buried itself deep into Attica’s gut.

And Cyrus screamed.

The Kaladorian jumped back in surprise, releasing his sword and covering his ears. Kaladorians didn’t like loud noises. The man was temporarily stunned.

Cyrus ran to Attica, picking her up and running a distance away.

He slid to his knees, sobbing. Attica looked up at him, face stricken with soot, blood, and pain.

“Cyrus…” She said softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

Cyrus closed his eyes, hissing through his teeth, relishing the touch, knowing he would never get it again after today.

“Don’t go,” He moaned, doubling over Attica, “Please, I can’t lose you.”

“Cyrus,” Attica whispered, coughing. Blood and spittle dribbled down her chin, and she smiled weakly.

“Bury me where we first met.”

Cyrus’ mind flashed back to that day.

Standing on a balcony overlooking the Tuvin Reservoir. Attica had been there as a tourist and student, studying the reservoir wall’s support system to keep the water in. He had provided information on it, and then had asked her if she wanted to go grab something at a local place he knew.

She had graciously accepted.

“I don’t want to,” He said, “I don’t want to bury you, I want to be buried next to you.”

“Your time here is not over yet, love,” She said, “You still have more to do. And you’ll have to finish it without me.”

Cyrus pushed Attica’s hair out of her face, looking in her eyes one last time.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I know,” She said, smiling up at him. Her steely gray-blue eyes, one of his favorite colors- mostly because of her- were glistening. “And I love you. I always will.”

Cyrus smiled back, knowing it would make her feel better. She loved his smile, she always told him.

“Ah, I love that smile,” She said, and laughed softly. It quickly turned into coughs.

“Think of me often?” She muttered, eyes drifting shut.

“Always,” He whispered, stroking her hair, “Always. Always.”

Attica’s heartbeat slowed.

Until it was no more.

Cyrus doubled over, in more pain than if he had been stabbed himself.

He screamed again, louder than before. He heard a shout behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

The Kaladorian had been running at him, preparing to strike. He must have assumed it would be an easy kill. He was stunned again, on the ground.

Cyrus’ eyes flashed viciously. Tuvin soldiers answered his call, running up. Their faces showed no emotion.

Thank the Elders.

“Take her,” Cyrus said hoarsely, “Keep her safe until I return.”
“Sir,” One of them said, the badge on his plate declaring him a 2nd Officer, “Don’t you require help?”

“No,” Cyrus said as the Kaladorian stood, “I’ll handle this. Go! Now!”

The soldiers saluted and picked up Attica, dashing away with her.

“I will avenge you, my beloved,” He whispered to the wind, turning around, “Here and now.”

The Kaladorian stood, shook his head, and prepared to strike.

Cyrus shouted, and leaped at him with his sword.

His onslaught was fueled by so much; grief, pain, rage, love, loss, and a million more emotions.

The Kaladorian looked small.

Cyrus slashed and hacked. The Kaladorian blocked, panicking.

Their swords connected with a crash, and they shattered. Sparkling bits of metal flew through the air, bouncing off the pair's armor.

The Kaladorian stumbled back, the sound shocking him.

And Cyrus ran him through with the shattered, sharp tip of his sword. A dagger now, more like.

The broken sword slammed into a chink in the shoulder of the Kaladorians armor, and Cyrus turned, throwing the Kaladorian to the ground.

“Tell her I send my love,” He spat, then withdrew his sword- which elicited a grunt from the Kaladorian- and plunged it into his chest, killing him.

He then collapsed to the ground, and began to cry.

@DoomslugLuna @Morningtide

pinging y'all because this is... a heavy one. want y'all to see it, give your thoughts.

Scud, Calano.

I knew where you were going with this and I still read it.

[Morningtide she/her]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO that is so sad!!!!!!!!  I LOVE IT >:) I've said it a million times before but the emotion that you can convey is truly amazing. I actually almost cried when I finished it. The emotion is so raw.

[Medium he/they]

10 hours ago, The Wandering Wizard said:

It is quite heavy and my mind wonders two things, do you always just replace C's with K's Chaos = Kaos. Clan = Klan. And what happens to Cyrus now? Where does he go, how does he fit back in, does he ever fit back in?

i like doing that. replacing C's with K's is cool. misspelled words are better than the normal words.

Might write this again, to show what happens to Cyrus, but for now, nothing is coming to mind.

I will think on it though, I like writing in this world.

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

Just read 89 and 91...

Storms, @CalanoCorvus, I want a third one.

[Medium he/they]

Just now, Thaidakar the Ghostblood said:

Just read 89 and 91...

Storms, @CalanoCorvus, I want a third one.

Noted.

Will work on a third one then.

[Medium he/they]

Scene #92: In Memorium

This is part three, which includes Scenes #89 and #91.

@Thaidakar the Ghostblood you asked for a third one. Sorry it took so long.

Spoiler

Cyrus’ soldiers found him crying next to the motionless body of the Kaladorian, and helped him back to his tent. Inside the tent was Attica. Her cold, lifeless body lay prone on a cot in the back corner. He broke down all over again after seeing her pale, gentle, restful face.

It might have looked like she was asleep, if it weren’t for the complete stillness and pallor of her whole body.

He crawled his way to her side, not caring that he was surrounded by officers, nor that he was wounded. This was a matter of love, of loss, not of politics, of war.

The officers watched on, uncomfortable, as Cyrus grieved all over again.

But it was all he could do at the moment. Thinking of doing anything else hurt.

His thoughts went back to when he confessed his feelings to Attica, so, so long ago. At least, it felt like it had been ages ago.

In truth, it had only been a few years. And those past few years had been… blissful.

He’d turned to her, on the same balcony they’d originally met at, the same balcony he would propose on as well.

“Attica,” He’d said, leaning against the balcony next to her, “You are… amazing.”

Attica had grinned, turned to him, and said, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Cyrus, without thinking, launched back, “And super humble. Just- just the humblest.”

Attica laughed.

And oh, that laugh. He missed it so much.

Attica had turned to watch the sun sink below the horizon. “Any specific reason you brought me out here tonight?” She asked.

“Oh, you know,” He said, not looking away from her, “I just like the view.”

“Cyrus, the view is that way,” Attica had said, shooting a sideways glance at him.

“No, it’s right in front of me. And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He’d said, and then Attica knew.

Knew his feelings. Knew his heart. Knew that this was the beginning of something grand, and glorious, and forbidden.

But now, that view had been stolen away from him, stolen away forever.

He missed so much already her smile, her gaze, her touch.

He grabbed her hand, cold and lifeless, trying to will the life back into it. He kissed it.

“I couldn’t help it,” He muttered, vision cloudy, “I couldn’t help it, you were too perfect. I couldn’t help falling in love with you.”

He cried into her hand, before his officers led him away, to let the Priests perform the appropriate rituals, so her soul might be granted safe, peaceful passage through the afterlife.

High Priest Viloran glanced at Cyrus as he was led out.

“It’s a shame,” Viloran said, causing Cyrus to stop, “Such a fine young woman, killed by Kaladorian insurgents.”

Cyrus turned to the High Priest, face hard. “Choose your next words carefully, Viloran,” He said.

“Well,” Viloran said, “I was already against the marriage, so I can’t say I told you so. It’s to be expected, when you broke the rules so braze-”

His sentence was cut off by a swift punch to the face by Cyrus. He stumbled backwards, falling down, a hand to his nose, which was now bleeding.

“You ought to listen to my advice, High Priest,” Cyrus spat, “I know you were against the marriage. I know you’re barely tolerating the funeral rites that ought to be performed for a woman of her station. I know you think that the Church ought to have more control than it does.”

He stepped forward, crouching next to the High Priest.

“But that woman was the love of my life,” He said, voice rising, “If you so much as speak her name in a negative tone, I will not hesitate to kill you, regardless of what becomes of me. It is because of her, and because of me, that you are not dead where you stand today!” He shouted.

“Do you understand?” Cyrus asked, voice low.

Viloran nodded.

“Good,” Cyrus said, then stood, “See to it the proper rites are performed. The funeral service will be held in Tuvin, on the banks of the river. I will see my wife commemorated properly. With He Who Is Above as my witness, I will not accept anything other than the best for her. I never have, never did, and never will.”

And with that, he walked out of his tent, to rest, and, he prayed, not to have any nightmares. Only memories.

He hoped they’d be good ones.

Might use these as inspiration for a novel.... writing in this world comes easily to me.

Could be a good story.

[Thaidakar the Ghostblood he/him]

29 minutes ago, CalanoCorvus said:

Scene #92: In Memorium

This is part three, which includes Scenes #89 and #91.

@Thaidakar the Ghostblood you asked for a third one. Sorry it took so long.

  Hide contents

Cyrus’ soldiers found him crying next to the motionless body of the Kaladorian, and helped him back to his tent. Inside the tent was Attica. Her cold, lifeless body lay prone on a cot in the back corner. He broke down all over again after seeing her pale, gentle, restful face.

It might have looked like she was asleep, if it weren’t for the complete stillness and pallor of her whole body.

He crawled his way to her side, not caring that he was surrounded by officers, nor that he was wounded. This was a matter of love, of loss, not of politics, of war.

The officers watched on, uncomfortable, as Cyrus grieved all over again.

But it was all he could do at the moment. Thinking of doing anything else hurt.

His thoughts went back to when he confessed his feelings to Attica, so, so long ago. At least, it felt like it had been ages ago.

In truth, it had only been a few years. And those past few years had been… blissful.

He’d turned to her, on the same balcony they’d originally met at, the same balcony he would propose on as well.

“Attica,” He’d said, leaning against the balcony next to her, “You are… amazing.”

Attica had grinned, turned to him, and said, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Cyrus, without thinking, launched back, “And super humble. Just- just the humblest.”

Attica laughed.

And oh, that laugh. He missed it so much.

Attica had turned to watch the sun sink below the horizon. “Any specific reason you brought me out here tonight?” She asked.

“Oh, you know,” He said, not looking away from her, “I just like the view.”

“Cyrus, the view is that way,” Attica had said, shooting a sideways glance at him.

“No, it’s right in front of me. And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He’d said, and then Attica knew.

Knew his feelings. Knew his heart. Knew that this was the beginning of something grand, and glorious, and forbidden.

But now, that view had been stolen away from him, stolen away forever.

He missed so much already her smile, her gaze, her touch.

He grabbed her hand, cold and lifeless, trying to will the life back into it. He kissed it.

“I couldn’t help it,” He muttered, vision cloudy, “I couldn’t help it, you were too perfect. I couldn’t help falling in love with you.”

He cried into her hand, before his officers led him away, to let the Priests perform the appropriate rituals, so her soul might be granted safe, peaceful passage through the afterlife.

High Priest Viloran glanced at Cyrus as he was led out.

“It’s a shame,” Viloran said, causing Cyrus to stop, “Such a fine young woman, killed by Kaladorian insurgents.”

Cyrus turned to the High Priest, face hard. “Choose your next words carefully, Viloran,” He said.

“Well,” Viloran said, “I was already against the marriage, so I can’t say I told you so. It’s to be expected, when you broke the rules so braze-”

His sentence was cut off by a swift punch to the face by Cyrus. He stumbled backwards, falling down, a hand to his nose, which was now bleeding.

“You ought to listen to my advice, High Priest,” Cyrus spat, “I know you were against the marriage. I know you’re barely tolerating the funeral rites that ought to be performed for a woman of her station. I know you think that the Church ought to have more control than it does.”

He stepped forward, crouching next to the High Priest.

“But that woman was the love of my life,” He said, voice rising, “If you so much as speak her name in a negative tone, I will not hesitate to kill you, regardless of what becomes of me. It is because of her, and because of me, that you are not dead where you stand today!” He shouted.

“Do you understand?” Cyrus asked, voice low.

Viloran nodded.

“Good,” Cyrus said, then stood, “See to it the proper rites are performed. The funeral service will be held in Tuvin, on the banks of the river. I will see my wife commemorated properly. With He Who Is Above as my witness, I will not accept anything other than the best for her. I never have, never did, and never will.”

And with that, he walked out of his tent, to rest, and, he prayed, not to have any nightmares. Only memories.

He hoped they’d be good ones.

Might use these as inspiration for a novel.... writing in this world comes easily to me.

Could be a good story.

I loved that, Calano, I loved that. If you made it into a novel, I'd read it.

[Edema Rue she/her]

I would absolutely read it too. Writing is so good at conveying such strong emotions, and you do a really good job of it.

[Morningtide she/her]

HOW AM I OUT OF REP EVERY TIME YOU POST HERE 

But seriously that is so good. I third the people above and say that I will absolutely read a book like that.

[Medium he/they]

Some scenes that should be in here, aren't, and I will be putting here.

Scene #93: If

Spoiler

If it were meant to be, then may the gods say as such.

If you were meant to be mine, let nature show it.

If you make me the happiest I ever am, let the birds sing it.

If I want to wrap you up in my arms and let the rest of the world fall away, let the stars spell it.

If I could kiss all your problems away, I would.

If I could marry you now, I would.

If I were to try and imagine a life without you, I would break.

If there’s a way I could show you I love you more than I already do, let the sun shout it.

If there’s a way to tell you how much you mean to me,

Please tell me.

Scene #94: Unsure

Spoiler

I’m unsure of just what to say.

There’s too much to say, there always has been, always is, and always will be.

I want you to know that I’d fight the world for you if it came to it.

I’d fight until there was no fight left in me, and then I’d fight some more.

Because you mean so much to me. More than I mean to myself. I hold you in higher regard than myself.

Not a day goes by that the thought of you passes my mind, that I miss your lips passing mine, that I miss the brush of your hand on my arm, that I miss the scent of your perfume.

Not a day goes by that I wish it to stay like this forever. Every day I wish, I imagine, I hope that I get to stay with you, be with you, for the rest of my life.

I feel a Connection, a Bond, forged by Ideals and Intent, a mixing of Agency and 

Identity, a beautiful molding of our two personalities.

I feel whole when I’m with you.

I feel complete.

Safe. Loved. Unjudged.

Our lives will surely take us in different directions.

30 years ago, that would have been an issue. I believe, however, that with today’s technology, today’s abilities, I can still see you and know you even if you are on the other side of the world.

I’m unsure of the future.

I’m unsure of much of the present.

But if I am sure one thing,

It is that my love for you, my adoration, my feelings, my compassion,

Is vast and expansive. 

It feels as if I’ve known you for so long, it feels as if we met before this life and just,

Clicked.

And I believe, and I’m well aware it is much too soon to say it, but I’m quite confident, but I believe that it was meant to be.

That I was meant to find you, and you me.

The reason we click together so well cannot be incidental.

If not now, if not you, then who?

Who could possibly make me feel the way I feel for you for them?

The answer? I don’t know.

It hurts thinking of a time I wouldn’t be with you. It’s nerve wracking to thing of things to come, of mistakes I’ve made and how those could influence what we have.

But, I won’t stop.

I won’t stop caring, I won’t stop loving, I won’t stop being me.

I see you in the stars, in the grass, in my dreams.

The stars speak so highly of you.

The grass whispers so kindly of you.

And my dreams, are filled with the memories of time spent together, replaying over and over.

Like magic film, taken as a Photograph. Almost as if I could live inside.

My love, you are perfect.

You are wonderful.

You are ambitious.

You are generous.

You are imaginative.

You are compassionate.

You are loving.

You are warm.

You are endearing.

You are outgoing, energetic, fearless, and a billion more.

You are You. There is no one else like You.

Not to Me.

 

[Morningtide she/her]

Short and sweet!!!! I liked them both

[Szeth's Facepalm]

D-Doomie

I just read ur tags

Are u good m8?

[Medium he/they]

Of course not

[Szeth's Facepalm]

D:

Do u want a kit-kat?

[Medium he/they]

I cannot eat those

[Szeth's Facepalm]

Oh dear

How about a warm cinnamon roll?

[Medium he/they]

Stop suggesting things with gluten >:(

I'm celiac >:(

[The Wandering Wizard he/him]

Rather important question.

Do you like warm hugs?

[Medium he/they]

1 minute ago, The Wandering Wizard said:

Do you like warm hugs?

Yes.

[Szeth's Facepalm]

Eeps. I offer warm hugs and a bunch of black forrest gummy bears? Or if you don't like that brand, Albanese?

[Medium he/they]

ill take the gummy bears the first brand :]

thanks for the hugs

[Edema Rue she/her]

I offer hugs as well. And a bowl of lettuce (sadness). You may leave other sad items inside. 

[Morningtide she/her]

I offer more hugs and some very good gluten free oreos :). The mint ones. Because they are amazing

[Medium he/they]

Y'all funny.

Scene #95: Somewhere above nothing, but miles below okay

Spoiler

Life is something that everyone goes through.

It means so much, it contains so much.

Friends, lovers, enemies, acquaintances.

For some, life is something awful.

For some, life is something beautiful.

For some, life is just… something.

For some, they’re miles below okay.

For some, they’re somewhere above nothing.

For some, they’re somewhere above nothing, but miles below okay.

And these three groups depend on each other.

Providing comfort, solace, shared grief and pain, advice.

Providing hugs, and kind words, and ideas.

Providing openings, opportunities.

Keeping each other moving.

Keeping each other sane.

Keeping each other alive.

Keeping each other somewhere above nothing, but miles below okay.

You can count on me, One says.

I need help, Two wants to say.

I’m here just in case, Three thinks.

Let me help you, One says.

Please, Two wants to say.

I should try and help, Three thinks.

 

And there’s a fourth group.

The Gone. The Departed. Those who didn’t receive help, but are now without the need for help.

I’m free, Four whispers.

I can breathe again, Four whispers.

Remember the Four. Act like the One. Think like the Three. Lift up the Two.

Keep loving, keep lifting, keep living.

The world throws what it can at you,

The world beats you down, pummels you into the dirt.

But you stand up,

You stand, and you look the world dead in the eyes,

And you say to it,

I Remember the Four. I Act like the One. I Think like the Three. I Lift Up the Two.

Then you will have mastered life.

Then will you have bested the world.

Then will you be True. And Good.

Then, will you be nowhere above nothing, and miles above okay.

 

[Morningtide she/her]

That's so hopeful and sad at the same time! I really like it! How did you become so wise?