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Description

“The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.”
-Numbers 6:26

By Ariel James

There once was an era of fairness and legitimacy; a land and a home filled with warmth where families consisted of the entire mass of population lived in the land; witch, warlock, beast, fairy, humans and any other sort of species there might have been.
This era was discovered far back when Peace was fully sustained upon the land, trees, the air or even in the deepness of the waters. All considered themselves as one. Even though there were arguments and quarrels they still lived as one bonded family. They showed love by gathering around huge tables filling the air with heart-felt laughs and grins, giggles, chuckles, cheers, hurrahs. It was a home filled with peace and affection.
“And I will give peace in the land, and ye shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid: and I will rid evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword go through your land”
-Leviticus 26:6

Who was to know that one day, Peace would be diminished…

It was casted upon The Land like an uproar for the place which once of peace bore chaos and confusion, pain and suffering; Beasts blamed Witches, Witches blamed Fairies, Fairies blamed Warlocks, and those who weren’t smart enough blamed Humans and their God. And the one thing that kept everyone together was diminished.

In the mist of the war, the High Priest of Holyland with colour filled garments that ran from his slim shoulders to the floor for he was of the hundred and seventh that day hastily came with a prophesy stating that ‘Peace be born again’. No one was able to understand for their rage and hate filled the air thicker than smoke and when the Queen of Highland had her second child in the midst of all the madness it was then known that the Peace be restored.
This restore was of a huge difference…
The Peace was sustained in a human child and like magic, The Land changed. After that faithful day The Great Uproar of the Land ceased itself; monsters created from witchcraft retreated and hidden in dark parts of the forests, hatred and hurt retreated, unfairness and cruelty drowned in the depths and what evil intentions there be was withheld for peace was the calmer of war.
The Land transformed into something magical and released it upon the growth in the land; Apples cracked in two which made the seeds pop out and plant themselves in softness of the ground, Mangoes float around the Mango trees when ripe, Grapes pop when put into mouths, Passion Fruits smelt like the sweet perfume of passion itself. The air stirred with happiness and the waters were as clear and comforting as crystals, they no longer raged and stirred in anger for the Land was slowly gaining back its purity and prosperity of peace……

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞∞Sweet Innocence∞∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Meyrin huddled herself to a corner of the small boat just off the shore of Rattled Waters. She stared wide-eyed at the human before her for he was doing unspeakable things that neither man nor creature of this Land would dream to do.
“I do not suppose you are going to catch it with that?” Her voice quivered as she gestured shakily at the flimsy stick with a string attached at the end of it.
“Why of course!” Mike was the man standing at the other end of the boat who was tying a bell at the end of the string. “This is the best strategy ever; first we shall cast the bell, then...”
Meyrin sighed and brushed a string of her auburn shiny hair which extended down her back. She tried to listen to him speak that same line of attack for the fifth time but her mind could not help think about how much these Humans chatter. She was a proud Acolyte-which is someone who performs ceremonial duties such as lighting altar candles, prayer services and helping with the tendency of the Great Church of HolyLand which was very much boring especially if you were doing such thing for five years and sincerely Acolytes’ who live two times longer than Humans ought to find something for teenagers of their breed to do, but that was only the first level for she knew that her secretive potential was to heal and because of her great nervousness towards the public or large groups she was unable to pass the staged tests.
As the boat rocked smoothly along the smooth waters she thought of that day her own pride brought great shame to her family.

She was traversing through the vacant forest, crossing dangerous borders stealing herself away to support her family. Since she was unable to pass the tasks and was eventually thrown out of the academy, her family was sponsored no more.
As she reached the entrance to Witch-Leaves, she caught sight of a dark figure lurking a few feet in the shadows by the direction to Deep Forest. Fear quickly swept through her like the coldness of the wind and no sooner did the figure jumped out startling her so much she ought to faint but her adrenaline pumped so much that she was able to sight the writhing figure of a boy.
She gasped at the abnormal sight of so much blood seeping out from the side of his coat. He immediately fell to the floor and Meyrin made hast to him, knelt down to assist him saying hastily, “Dear Sir, please let me assist you!”
He groaned and turned painfully to lie on his back leaving his side bear for her to see the deep gnash right below his ribcage and she was surprised that he still lived after the loss of so much blood. His features were young and so fresh of his teens that she questioned herself as to why he dwelled in Deep Forest…
She pulled out her knife and glanced at his face, checked his pulse and frighteningly cut through his garments and when she saw the gash in the flesh and the pouring blood she gasped, but only at the fact that he was of Royal Blood.
She quickly pressed her palms upon the seeping flesh and he groaned in agony. One thing that Sibyl’s knew was how to identify a person by seeing the texture and colour of their blood, this genre was passed down to those of the Acolytes or Priests but one is to know that it is extremely rare that she is only of twelve and gained this ability so quickly.
The wound began healing very quickly, unlike the level thirty Sibyl friends she had-the ones with beards and long coats that covered their hands and even brushed the dust off the floors. She was agile in her task as her concentration flushed her cheeks.
When she was done she sat back panting, watching him stir properly. Even though she was tired she took in his admirable sight, all with such pale white skin and sun glistened sweaty flat chest; it was as if he was carefully carved by God-the unimaginable. “Royal Blood eh?” she thought aloud, a habit that cease to leave her.
He gasped and gaped at her, “How did you know such thing?!” He was still breathing hard with pain stuck to his face; his blonde hair damp hair looked glued to his forehead as his yellow yes flashed with anger.
“Forgive my assumption, your Majesty.” Meyrin hurriedly gathered her bags and luggage and bowed deeply and shakily glanced back and forth from him to the trail she wanted to run into, she felt that she would have an anxiety attack just because of those yellow eyes with dark lines of exhaustion beneath them.
He knelt off the ground weakly, the blood restoring to his flushed cheeks while the pain subsided. “The Prophets I know...” he wheeze, “Are of age twenty and two above whereby able to use such genre.”
“I am sorry you’re Highness, forgive me but I must be on my way.” She hastily started off to the trail leading to the river side of Witch-Leaves.
“Stop I tell you!” His voice roughened and croaked.
She whimpered as she sensed his pain but when she turned frighteningly towards him, he was on his two feet with beads of sweat running down the sides of his face. Definitely a man after obtaining such wound should not be standing!
“I have a profitable request, young lady of the Acolyte.” He commanded, and then continued, “Accompany me upon my quests.”
“You’re Highness?” She fell to her knees too stunned to believe what was being offered to her ears.
“You will be well paid.”
Her breath caught in the throat that instant and everything paused for a moment...
“You will be well paid if you protect me with your Acolyte ability.”

Now she is here in a boat staring at the man, who hired and offered countless pounds of wealth. And for that her family was blessed with enough money for their endless lines of generation upon generation.
The boat shook rapidly and she gasped the rims desperately, shaking even in her toes. “Sir Mike!” She trembled. She tried to glare at him but the shock could not escape her eyes for the boat was so little!
She was no coward but fighting a Widow Snake in a small boat was a wild idea, but it had been stealing babies for quite a while now. Parents have committed suicide recently because their babies were gone as the population of small villages decreased.
But Sir Mike was no longer a boy with plain chest and small features. Over the years of assisting him he grew stronger, keen and especially bold and very proud. He had greatly acquired all the levels of an Assassination, Darkstalker, and Mercenary and was recently named a high ranked Darkstalker.
Meyrin devoted her life to him as he did to her, and even though the deal ran so innocently between them she could not help but to pray for more than just a royal seal on a scroll of dedication, but the deal signed had an input between the thread that woven the scroll together, the spell of subsided love for the King in his rage had the Great Wizard of Greatland named Spillaz to cast the spell that repels the feelings of a woman should it try to reach him. So now all he practically cared for was getting rid of the monsters so that the Great Land can feel free again for all his spirit and strength was a full force into combating against the creatures. She still hoped that the spell will be broken in the near future and he would cast a liking to her first. That should give her enough time to rid herself of her self-consciousness and shy gestures which permitted her from expressing her heart felt feelings for him.
“Be careful.” She protested.
“I be fine, it is well.” He assured her intently then pulled out his sword.
The snake pushed through the watery surface baring its two double rowed pointy teeth, a bite from that turns you to acid, a Widow Snake’s greatest self defense. The acid can diminish a man in less than a minute.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Meyrin thought, she always thought these doubtful things. “Sir Mike!” she got up shakily, “If the snake bites-”
“I will be fine, stay behind me!” he kept swinging his sword with skill while the snake gashed at him.
She trembled and started sitting back down, the boat rocked too much and she wanted to curl into a ball until the shaking was over but to her surprise a scaly tail wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.
She screamed, “Mike!!”
The tail lifted her into the air, a black aura surrounded her and for a second she felt unable to breath. This wasn’t the work of a Widow Snake, it was dark magic, she thought, dark magic was controlling the snake.
And before she could shout it to Mike she was pulled under the surface of the water, unconsciousness smothering her…

Description

“The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.”
-Numbers 6:26

By Ariel James

There once was an era of fairness and legitimacy; a land and a home filled with warmth where families consisted of the entire mass of population lived in the land; witch, warlock, beast, fairy, humans and any other sort of species there might have been.
This era was discovered far back when Peace was fully sustained upon the land, trees, the air or even in the deepness of the waters. All considered themselves as one. Even though there were arguments and quarrels they still lived as one bonded family. They showed love by gathering around huge tables filling the air with heart-felt laughs and grins, giggles, chuckles, cheers, hurrahs. It was a home filled with peace and affection.
“And I will give peace in the land, and ye shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid: and I will rid evil beasts out of the land, neither shall the sword go through your land”
-Leviticus 26:6

Who was to know that one day, Peace would be diminished…

It was casted upon The Land like an uproar for the place which once of peace bore chaos and confusion, pain and suffering; Beasts blamed Witches, Witches blamed Fairies, Fairies blamed Warlocks, and those who weren’t smart enough blamed Humans and their God. And the one thing that kept everyone together was diminished.

In the mist of the war, the High Priest of Holyland with colour filled garments that ran from his slim shoulders to the floor for he was of the hundred and seventh that day hastily came with a prophesy stating that ‘Peace be born again’. No one was able to understand for their rage and hate filled the air thicker than smoke and when the Queen of Highland had her second child in the midst of all the madness it was then known that the Peace be restored.
This restore was of a huge difference…
The Peace was sustained in a human child and like magic, The Land changed. After that faithful day The Great Uproar of the Land ceased itself; monsters created from witchcraft retreated and hidden in dark parts of the forests, hatred and hurt retreated, unfairness and cruelty drowned in the depths and what evil intentions there be was withheld for peace was the calmer of war.
The Land transformed into something magical and released it upon the growth in the land; Apples cracked in two which made the seeds pop out and plant themselves in softness of the ground, Mangoes float around the Mango trees when ripe, Grapes pop when put into mouths, Passion Fruits smelt like the sweet perfume of passion itself. The air stirred with happiness and the waters were as clear and comforting as crystals, they no longer raged and stirred in anger for the Land was slowly gaining back its purity and prosperity of peace……

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞∞Sweet Innocence∞∞∞∞∞ ∞∞∞∞
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Meyrin huddled herself to a corner of the small boat just off the shore of Rattled Waters. She stared wide-eyed at the human before her for he was doing unspeakable things that neither man nor creature of this Land would dream to do.
“I do not suppose you are going to catch it with that?” Her voice quivered as she gestured shakily at the flimsy stick with a string attached at the end of it.
“Why of course!” Mike was the man standing at the other end of the boat who was tying a bell at the end of the string. “This is the best strategy ever; first we shall cast the bell, then...”
Meyrin sighed and brushed a string of her auburn shiny hair which extended down her back. She tried to listen to him speak that same line of attack for the fifth time but her mind could not help think about how much these Humans chatter. She was a proud Acolyte-which is someone who performs ceremonial duties such as lighting altar candles, prayer services and helping with the tendency of the Great Church of HolyLand which was very much boring especially if you were doing such thing for five years and sincerely Acolytes’ who live two times longer than Humans ought to find something for teenagers of their breed to do, but that was only the first level for she knew that her secretive potential was to heal and because of her great nervousness towards the public or large groups she was unable to pass the staged tests.
As the boat rocked smoothly along the smooth waters she thought of that day her own pride brought great shame to her family.

She was traversing through the vacant forest, crossing dangerous borders stealing herself away to support her family. Since she was unable to pass the tasks and was eventually thrown out of the academy, her family was sponsored no more.
As she reached the entrance to Witch-Leaves, she caught sight of a dark figure lurking a few feet in the shadows by the direction to Deep Forest. Fear quickly swept through her like the coldness of the wind and no sooner did the figure jumped out startling her so much she ought to faint but her adrenaline pumped so much that she was able to sight the writhing figure of a boy.
She gasped at the abnormal sight of so much blood seeping out from the side of his coat. He immediately fell to the floor and Meyrin made hast to him, knelt down to assist him saying hastily, “Dear Sir, please let me assist you!”
He groaned and turned painfully to lie on his back leaving his side bear for her to see the deep gnash right below his ribcage and she was surprised that he still lived after the loss of so much blood. His features were young and so fresh of his teens that she questioned herself as to why he dwelled in Deep Forest…
She pulled out her knife and glanced at his face, checked his pulse and frighteningly cut through his garments and when she saw the gash in the flesh and the pouring blood she gasped, but only at the fact that he was of Royal Blood.
She quickly pressed her palms upon the seeping flesh and he groaned in agony. One thing that Sibyl’s knew was how to identify a person by seeing the texture and colour of their blood, this genre was passed down to those of the Acolytes or Priests but one is to know that it is extremely rare that she is only of twelve and gained this ability so quickly.
The wound began healing very quickly, unlike the level thirty Sibyl friends she had-the ones with beards and long coats that covered their hands and even brushed the dust off the floors. She was agile in her task as her concentration flushed her cheeks.
When she was done she sat back panting, watching him stir properly. Even though she was tired she took in his admirable sight, all with such pale white skin and sun glistened sweaty flat chest; it was as if he was carefully carved by God-the unimaginable. “Royal Blood eh?” she thought aloud, a habit that cease to leave her.
He gasped and gaped at her, “How did you know such thing?!” He was still breathing hard with pain stuck to his face; his blonde hair damp hair looked glued to his forehead as his yellow yes flashed with anger.
“Forgive my assumption, your Majesty.” Meyrin hurriedly gathered her bags and luggage and bowed deeply and shakily glanced back and forth from him to the trail she wanted to run into, she felt that she would have an anxiety attack just because of those yellow eyes with dark lines of exhaustion beneath them.
He knelt off the ground weakly, the blood restoring to his flushed cheeks while the pain subsided. “The Prophets I know...” he wheeze, “Are of age twenty and two above whereby able to use such genre.”
“I am sorry you’re Highness, forgive me but I must be on my way.” She hastily started off to the trail leading to the river side of Witch-Leaves.
“Stop I tell you!” His voice roughened and croaked.
She whimpered as she sensed his pain but when she turned frighteningly towards him, he was on his two feet with beads of sweat running down the sides of his face. Definitely a man after obtaining such wound should not be standing!
“I have a profitable request, young lady of the Acolyte.” He commanded, and then continued, “Accompany me upon my quests.”
“You’re Highness?” She fell to her knees too stunned to believe what was being offered to her ears.
“You will be well paid.”
Her breath caught in the throat that instant and everything paused for a moment...
“You will be well paid if you protect me with your Acolyte ability.”

Now she is here in a boat staring at the man, who hired and offered countless pounds of wealth. And for that her family was blessed with enough money for their endless lines of generation upon generation.
The boat shook rapidly and she gasped the rims desperately, shaking even in her toes. “Sir Mike!” She trembled. She tried to glare at him but the shock could not escape her eyes for the boat was so little!
She was no coward but fighting a Widow Snake in a small boat was a wild idea, but it had been stealing babies for quite a while now. Parents have committed suicide recently because their babies were gone as the population of small villages decreased.
But Sir Mike was no longer a boy with plain chest and small features. Over the years of assisting him he grew stronger, keen and especially bold and very proud. He had greatly acquired all the levels of an Assassination, Darkstalker, and Mercenary and was recently named a high ranked Darkstalker.
Meyrin devoted her life to him as he did to her, and even though the deal ran so innocently between them she could not help but to pray for more than just a royal seal on a scroll of dedication, but the deal signed had an input between the thread that woven the scroll together, the spell of subsided love for the King in his rage had the Great Wizard of Greatland named Spillaz to cast the spell that repels the feelings of a woman should it try to reach him. So now all he practically cared for was getting rid of the monsters so that the Great Land can feel free again for all his spirit and strength was a full force into combating against the creatures. She still hoped that the spell will be broken in the near future and he would cast a liking to her first. That should give her enough time to rid herself of her self-consciousness and shy gestures which permitted her from expressing her heart felt feelings for him.
“Be careful.” She protested.
“I be fine, it is well.” He assured her intently then pulled out his sword.
The snake pushed through the watery surface baring its two double rowed pointy teeth, a bite from that turns you to acid, a Widow Snake’s greatest self defense. The acid can diminish a man in less than a minute.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Meyrin thought, she always thought these doubtful things. “Sir Mike!” she got up shakily, “If the snake bites-”
“I will be fine, stay behind me!” he kept swinging his sword with skill while the snake gashed at him.
She trembled and started sitting back down, the boat rocked too much and she wanted to curl into a ball until the shaking was over but to her surprise a scaly tail wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.
She screamed, “Mike!!”
The tail lifted her into the air, a black aura surrounded her and for a second she felt unable to breath. This wasn’t the work of a Widow Snake, it was dark magic, she thought, dark magic was controlling the snake.
And before she could shout it to Mike she was pulled under the surface of the water, unconsciousness smothering her…