From Abby's contest, "Write a Poem That starts with "Its all fun and games..."

it’s all fun and games

until your life revolved around his

his words entangled you in a web

your voice smothered under layers of silk.

words are all fun and games

you thought one day he’d see you

hands shyly by your side in an ivory lace gown

eyeing him as you glide down the aisle

but it couldn’t even last until October

you always spoke about forever

when ‘forever’ meant three months

was he counting down all the days?

Love is all fun and games

being handled like a whining child

you let it happen

when he dragged you by your hair

you let it happen

letting go of who loved you most

how could you let it happen?

It’s all fun and games

until you’ve stumbled beyond reach

you would give your life to be loved

craving every unwinnable battle

crawling back to empty threats

stripping yourself of dignity.

You no longer feel like a person at all, then—

all because you liked a boy.

Night stretched as far as the eye could see through the Pacific Northwest. Rolling hills and mountains, stiff sprawling Douglas Fir trees. A stereotypical scenery most certainly, perfect for camping with open forest floors and small clearings with no roofs of branches or leafs. Yes there were eyes, there were critters, they moved and danced the night away. Truly nothing was out of place without taking a much closer look.

Trees obstructed much from above though from within it was a little more obvious. A faded path, old and not used for years now overgrown. Snaking between the trees and marching through the forest for miles upon miles, connecting to a normal highway in one direction while to the other end it led to a run down power plant on the water. A simple complex, gates now down and overrun with trees growing right through them onto the property- plant life sprawling up the plant. Moss, dirty rock, broken windows, the distinct colors of rust and rot.

A railroad sat behind the facility, mostly covered over just as well with grass sticking up; though the metal of the tracks still more than visible. Of course this forest and abandoned plant were not the only things out here, there were people as well- several people. All of them appearing more like goons in general gang attire, black hoodies and face masks, torn jeans and boots, all of them armed with rifles and shotguns, side pieces at their sides or in actual hand. There were several up on the roof, several down by the tracks, and several patrolling the grounds.

The eyes of a couple glowing, illuminated amber or red or orange from the shine of the moon’s brilliance upon them. Those eyes though were not omniscient, scanning only the horizon rather than the verticality. The floor of the woods, very clear; though the high up branches and tops not so much. Shadowy figures zoomed like blurs on the outskirts, clonking down on the branches and tops without disturbing the trees greatly. A slight shimmering though nothing major.

Several stopped several trees back from the beginning of the compound’s clearing, a distance of half a kilometer or so back. These figures were scattered around, several facing ahead, several armed with gunnery of their own. Most of them were dressed in SWAT-like attire and cloaked with hoods. Face masks up, helmets on; though not one had normal eyes as all of their eyes were glowing however dimly they might’ve appeared at a distance. The glows of amber, orange, yellow, and silver or white.

A man held position ahead of the pack, his silky black hair blowing in the wind, his green eyes locked ahead with the slightest of amber glows around the green. He wore simple clothes as opposed to the others, basic blue jeans and black combat boots, a ragged open black coat with no shirt. One of the SWATs had a hand up to his right ear for a short period as they locked their focus ahead at a patrolling group from the compound. Soon enough though, there hand would be lowered and would grab hold of the rifle that hung around their neck & shoulder by a strap as they properly took hold of it.

“Vulper, the orders are clear,” the man spoke to the man at the head.

That man at the head, Vulper, then side stepped and turned around- his gaze cast back upon the entire division behind him, “Alright, listen up. We do this, we do this fast- and we do this heavy. Units two and three will engage after the side units lay down cover fire and deploy rockets. The objective is the same, eliminate the enemy. Remember what this victory will mean everyone, liberation!”

He turned his head, scanning the lot of them from left to right as he continued on with his speech- “We’ve come a long ways since the Azala-Hive conflict. Not only will Vulfax be freed after this; but as will all of you who chose to serve, and your friends, and your families. With this strike we prove that we are not the same fear feasting monsters as those who serve Arkaza. We prove that we are people!”

At once, every single individual there flung their right fists up, weapons left held by left hand only. There was no sound aside from the shuffle of arms and fabric. Vulper himself smiled ever so as he witnessed this.

“To victory,” he spoke.

BANG!!!

An explosion of flames, an explosion of the debris, an explosion of the roof. A huge section of the plant roof blew high into the sky and broke up, debris flying everywhere along with the freshly minced bodies caught and flung by the blast, many pieces of which were in flames. Three guardsmen fell from the roof, wailing as they fell to the ground with one even striking their head on a balcony before tumbling to the ground. The front doors blew wide open with one man walking out of the inferno with their arms flailing, completely engulfed by flames- their screams going unheard due to all that was going on around them even as they tripped over the steps and fell to the ground.

Vulper swung around with both of his arms flying up crossed before his face, squinting at the huge burst of light and the spreading flames. Debris rained down like hail, striking the branches all around them and tumbling through to the forest floor.

“Ger- what devilry is this?!” he grunted.

The sound of gun shots echoed through the air shortly thereafter. People on the compound’s grounds were shot and gunned down, shots to the head and chest, pinpoint accurate. And then not long after came the sound of shots from within or beyond the plant, the true origin point obscured by the crackling inferno and the shots out in the open. Then theycame into view, individuals in colors of red and blue and white wielding swords and guns of their own. Vulper’s gaze narrowed sharply, viewing the cross necklaces dangling down in front of the chests of these newcomers as they hacked away at and shot down more of the facility’s guards.

“It’s the damn Church, they have snipers eyeing the plant. All of you get back now!” he yelled out.

“Oh please, if we wanted you fuckers dead we would have blown you up to,” came a voice echoing out from Vulper’s right.

All heads turned immediately towards a tree not far off, where there upon a branch stood a man not seen prior. He wore a black trench coat, dark blue pants, a dark blue vest. A necklace with a huge cross dangled in front of his chest. The figure turned to face them, dark sunglasses worn, their short brown hair slicked back. The man wore a white band around his neck, unlike those down below.

To this man’s sudden appearance, Vulper tensed up and growled out, “A Priest-”

“We’ve had our scopes on your peoplehere for awhile now, could’ve taken some shots at any time. Only thing saving your worthless hides is the fact that you’re working with the Confederacy AND the UN,” the man spoke, “However if you intend to interfere with our operation, I’ll happily clean you lot out as well.”

“And you are?” Vulper growled.

The man smirked, his posture adjusting to a more casual stance as he then spoke, “Castersin, Deker Castersin. And you would be Vulper. Vulper Arloo Gornetraof. It’s a bit of an honor I must say, my mentor told me a lot about you.”

“Mentor?” Vulper muttered, glancing back as his SWAT bound folks raised their weapons, a couple taking aim right for Deker.

The whole while as they did, Deker appeared to watch with his smirk turning into a shit eating grin immediately.

Vulper looked to him and then glanced back, quickly swirling around, “DON’T!”

Shots rang out, and immediately four of Vulper’s men fell from the trees and fell to the ground. Blood splattered from their faces, some blood even splashing Vulper’s left cheek as they went. His eyes sharpened and the glow turned his eyes from green to pure orange, shifting over his shoulder towards Deker. The man began to chuckle as Vulper swung around, his coat flapping.

“I warned them, did I not?” Deker chuckled.

A low growl left Vulper, his hands flexing and crunching into fists. Deker’s head raised ever so along with a brow.

“Yes, that’s right. Come and show me your power Drachen, show me what my master foretold as the unyielding power of your kind!”

Vulper’s gaze narrowed even further as he looked over Deker’s face, muttering out, “Almec eh…”

The branch beneath Vulper’s feet shook violently and split, the hulking figure of the Drachen Leader launching forward at Deker with one fist raised. Deker took a step back with a single foot and threw his arms out to his sides immediately, embracing the attack with an ear to ear smile, his mouth hanging open.

Yes, it's him. I am back, guys. I haven't been able to find the motivation to write lately but I have an announcement for later. I LOVE Broadway and like Little Shop of Horrors, Falsettos, In Trousers, Hamilton, Heathers, and Book of Mormon. I am currently listening to Gutenberg and will listen to Some Like it Hot and Smash.

Several moons had passed since we first took the request from the Guild hall job board; from the weeks of preparation to the journey we set off for. Many nights we’d slept underneath the stars, the constellations paving the way to our destination. Our sights were set on the Hinterlands, said to be where a crimson dragon was making its nest. Our employer requested the beast and her eggs be slain before a dragon horde descended on the city.

Our party was composed of four individuals, myself included who was chosen to lead the group. We’d travelled as a party for many years but this job request was unlike any other, we’d yet to meet an adversary I couldn’t best with my blade. A dragon was rare in our corner of the realm and despite our reputation within the Guild, it would prove to be a worthy opponent even for us.

Klaus, our tactician and scholar adept in the arcane arts, gave the party a brief history in draconian beasts before we set off on our adventure. Even with his well-considered plan of attack, I held my reservations for the execution.

Tonight was our last night before we’d reached the dragons nest. I stared into the embers of the fire, steeling my nerves for the upcoming battle. Beside me, the Druid Rowena, hummed a gentle melody while she crafted healing salves and fire warding charms for our armour. Both Klaus and Noah were wrapped in their bedrolls by the fire, and it wasn’t long before Rowena and I joined them.

We woke as the sun rose, just as the last of the campfire embers died. Rowena issued each party member with the warding charms, a single draconian scale imbued with her magic. Klaus went over his strategy once more while we ate our rations, reminding us all there was little room for error if we wanted to secure victory.

I struggled to stomach my meal, feeling my nerves wavering. All the pressure was on my shoulders as their leader. It was my duty to keep my party safe, even if it might cost me my life.

We journeyed to the base of the mountain, where the dragon’s nest awaited. The stench of death hit the back of my throat as we entered the mouth of the cave, but we pressed on until we found our mark in the antechamber.

A scarlet dragon curled up in a makeshift nest of livestock carcasses, the crimson pool surrounding her body was as deep as her scales. Blood red with wicked charcoal talons that gripped the nest as a smog escaped her lips. She’d sensed our intrusion despite the spells we’d used to prevent our immediate discovery. A roar erupted in her throat, shaking the earth beneath our boots. Her wings stretched to their full span and ignited as her amber eyes fell upon me.

I cursed under my breath, gripping my amulet in my gauntlet until my armour illuminated with a golden halo. The mark of the Tempest provided me with the might of a God, and under his protection I felt immortal. I stared down my adversary, the scarlet dragon roared until I was coated in a film of her saliva, yet my moral never wavered. The nerves that’d plagued my mind an hour before became the fire that fueled my fight. I stood before the dragon, readying my shield and sword.

The first strike belonged to me, my blade pierced her left ankle. The dragon retaliated launching a breath of fire in my direction. I held up my shield deflecting the blast away. I had all her attention on me, allowing the party to cut her down.

Klaus summoned countless spells with the arcane arts, while Rowena worked her magic, weaving healing spells in with the natural elements she’d summoned to fight on her behalf. A stone golem rose from the earth, driving a rocky fist into the dragon’s side. The beast snarled as she stumbled on her talons. Noah latched onto the dragon’s tail, hacking chunks of scaled flesh with his twin daggers.

I used the opportunity to my advantage, a miscalculation on my part. I launched myself off the ground, my blade making purchase with the dragon’s amber orb. I’d intended for my movements to be swift, but my blade refused to budge from the crying cavity.

The antechamber shook as the scarlet dragon plummeted to the earth, her wicked talon sliced through my armour like a knife through butter. My body was thrown into the carcass nest, the splintering of bones pierced my exposed skin. I tried to stifle the scream in my throat, but it was the only noise ringing in my ears.

‘Not like this,’ I coached myself to move despite every inch of my body crying out in agony. I hauled my tired body off the ground, struggling to stand and glanced back at my adversary, but all I could see was a haze of crimson. I could barely make out the outlines of the party frozen in place by my condition.

I reached out for my amulet yet my hand couldn’t locate the trinket. ‘No, not my…’ I cursed under my breath, without the Tempest’s amulet there was no hope of defeating the beast. I fumbled amongst the bones but my vision was too badly obstructed to locate the item, and instead I grabbed the thickest bone I could manage and wielded it like a weapon.

‘Change of plan, cover me,’ I called to my party as I ran to the fallen beast. I fought my way up her snout, smoke choking my lungs until I found my beloved blade.

The scarlet dragon wasn’t going down without a fight, just as my fingertips kissed the hilt, she spat flames separating the party from me.

‘Ophelia, watch out!’ Klaus bellowed. ‘Rowena, do something.’

‘My mana is all but depleted. Noah?’ she called to our final member but squealed when she noticed the halfling was lying face down in the dirt.

I stretched until my muscles were threatened to tear, until I was finally reunited with my blade. No sooner was the sword in my hand, the scarlet dragon swiped with her talons, launching me from her snout into the air.

‘Now’s my chance.’ I used the gifted momentum to my advantage, holding the blade close to my body and striking myself in a downward motion, piercing straight through the dragon’s spine and straight through to her heart.

Darkness closed around me as the dragon roar echoed in the antechamber. Then I heard Rowena scream, as I emerged from the beast, drenched in crimson entails. The last thing I remembered was smiling at my party before I succumbed to my injuries, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Hello Dweller,

Just when I thought I was finished learning frontend stuff, there is more languages that I need to learn. Sorry about not posting chapters for a century, but I can easily explain why I vanished for a while.

The first reason is that I got a new job. I accepted it for the early hours, because I wanted to be able to enjoy the rest of my day. The second reason is that I am trying to focus on this website, which seems to be adding harder challenges with every stage I clear.

Finally, I don't really know where to go with the stories. The Children of Melonia Falls was originally supposed to be... less gruesome? It was supposed to be fantasy mixed with a bit of psychological horror, but now there's this thing with the characters going insane with very little reason. It's a mess.

As for The Patient of Melonia Falls, it hasn't taken a bad turn yet. I actually think it's pretty good at the moment. Yet, this is supposed to finish after the previously mentioned story, and without it reaching a conclusion, this story won't as well.

Anyways, the website is my main focus. The reason is that the app is supposed contain three main websites. A multimedia site for storing my work (VoidDwellers), a site for storing character bios and story info (WikiDwellers), and finally a site for slice of life content when you need a break (SurfaceDwellers).

This app is going to pretty massive, containing things like 2D avatar customization, themes, easter eggs (the ones you see in video games), and a crap ton of achievements and unlockables.

To be honest, if I just make an encyclopedia website with no login stuff, or any crazy features, this might've been done by now, but I can't accept making something so simple. Anyways, here is the index / welcome page for the website. It currently has a theme called VaporKing applied to it.

Here is a deep ocean theme that I like to call, CrimeDive.

Finally, here is a light pink theme called LostYouth.

I have like 8 other themes, but it wouldn't be fun to show all of them. They're meant to represent the characters you see on the page.

Dream Deep Dweller,

Myko

A single soft, warm spark of light brightens the room.  The scent of citrus, probably with a hint of cinnamon, permeates across. Standing on a black stand, the candle helps us see. It guides us through to the truth. Cecilia's candle is like a guardian to her. At the darkest of midnight, it's there to comfort her, peacefully guiding her back into sweet dreams.

Oliver, Cecilia's younger brother, is as always, misbehaved. He wonders in the house room by room with one purpose, destroying to get attention. Cecilia was careful with where to place her dear little candle, until that one day when everything changes. Oliver is in the house alone after their parents went to work. Tiny footsteps echo in the hallways as he approaches Cecilia's room.

Flipping through the numerous drawers and closets, he finally finds what would, without doubt, give him attention from all eyes. The tiny, cream-colored candle perfectly still at the very top layer of the closet.

Thonk!It drops down with multiple tries.

As Oliver holds up the candle, it's different. The candle isn't warm-feeling like a burning fireplace in the cold, freezing snow. It isn't without emotion, similar to a simple, white wall. Anger and darkness consumes it all. No longer the safe protecting angel it was, Oliver is terrified like a slab of stone, unable to move. He panics and screams, "Mommy, help!" He has forgotten that he's alone, just like how he wished a few seconds ago.

Sharp whispers ring around his ears. "Welcome to ...,""no regrets...,""forever sorrow..." Words cut so hurtfully like a blade. Oliver couldn't stand it, so he pulled on his ears. Blood slowly flows out as the sound of ripping flesh appears louder and louder. Soft, rose red, or is it blood red? The candle suddenly lighten itself with a dim shade of blue-purple spark. Dark, pitch-black fog wraps around Oliver like a huge snake. Tightening little by little, air is trapped outside of his lungs. He couldn't speak or breathe. The choking feeling is so painful, but he can't do anything about it.

Ding~

The doorbell rang.

In a whoosheverything shifts back to the way it was.

Oliver holds on his throat. "It wasn't real, nothing was." he thought. Cecilia is back home now. He quickly places away the candle with both trembling hands. Step by step, he walked downstairs and away, from whatever that just happened.

"Why is my candle's tray shattered?" Cecilia belts out through the whole house to let Oliver hear. Oliver's face turns pale white, lips purple. Everything, everything that just happened... was real?

“Yes. It would appear so.”

He grinned. Small at first. Then bigger. And bigger. But in an evil way.

The lights turned maroon casting a bloodish-red glow on his cheeks.

“Yes. It would.” He pulled the gun out of his pocket and pointed it straight at her.

I gasped along with everyone else in the room as we all finally put together the pieces. It was him. It was him this whole time.

She stared straight into the gun as if she should had known all along.

“No. Not this way. I prefer a different way.” He grinned again.

Dropping the gun with a thud, he attacked her, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around her mouth, muffling her blood-curling scream.

He continued to laugh maliciously as she convulsed violently in the chair.

He had managed to completely fool her. Fool everybody.

The curtain came down as the room exploded in cheers.

The director called his name as he walked back onstage to the loudest applause of the night.

I cheered right along with the crowd.

But I saw it slightly different.

He was my childhood. The one person who knew the beginning the best. The one person who has been there from day one.

He stood among the rest of the cast accepting the congratulations and admiration from the visitors.

And I noticed then what I should have seen before, my childhood is all grown up.

So to the boy who I see as my childhood…

thank you. I hope you are able to go do and go be everything you want. I hope you are able to forget all the pain and all the heartbreak of your life and become what you were meant to be. Thank you for letting me be apart of the beginning.

Go be amazing, Tom.

Sincerely,

Zero

"Give it back!!" Tawny hissed, blushing uncontrollably.

She reached in vain for the piece of paper, but Elaine held it just out of reach, looking smugly satisfied.

"How quaint, girls," Elaine mused. "The poor little mouse has the hots for her handsome, broad-shouldered, older educator....how positively sad...."

"Talk about delusional..." chimed Violet.

"It's almost as bad as when you were crushing on him, Elaine," added Elizabeth.

Huh?

Violet looked at Elizabeth, confused. Maddie suppressed a laugh (Tawny was still too mortified to react to the revelation).

Elaine turned slowly to look at her redheaded friend. "Excuse me? What was that?"

"It's just that...you used to have a crush on McCurdy, too, back in the day..." said Elizabeth in a tiny voice. "We all kinda did..."

"Don't lump me in with the rest of you, okay?" Elaine said threateningly, jabbing her finger into Elizabeth's chest. "You're already on thin ice. Or have you forgotten your little 'affliction'?"

Violet avoided eye contact with the two of them. Elizabeth looked down to the floor and said no more.

"That's what I thought. Stay in line, Beauregarde. Ah, ah, ah..." Elaine evaded a surprise effort from Maddie, who had attempted to snatch the paper while her guard was down. "Nice try."

"What do you want, Elaine?" asked Maddie, exasperated.

Elaine gave a smile as though she were the cat that swallowed the canary. "I want chaos. I want discord. I want to see the look on your beloved teacher's when he finds out in front of the entire class you think he's a sexy Scotsman."

Tawny looked at Elaine in horror. "You wouldn't."

Elaine. "Oh. I would. On one condition. You walk out of Ivoree Gates and never show your peasant face here again." She pointed down the hall to the double doors leading out of the building. "That's my ultimatum, Tawdry. Let's go, girls."

And with that, the girls walked by Tawny and Maddie (though Elizabeth noticeably trailed a few steps behind, her eyes still cast downward to the floor).

---

"That was intense..." said Maddie later on. Both she and Tawny were doing homework in Westminster Hall, which became their new haunt after discovering the place with Dylan.

"I'm dead," said Tawny. "Elaine has killed me. She's going to read that poem in front of everyone in my class. I'll never be able to look Professor McCurdy in the eyes again...!"

"Hey, hey," said Maddie reassuringly. "It's going to be okay."

"Maybe I should just drop out," muttered Tawny. "Save myself the heartache."

"Don't say that," said Maddie seriously. "You can't let her think she's won."

"Well, hasn't she?!" she threw her pencil down on the desk. "I can't think straight. I'm going to use the washroom."

Before Maddie could object, Tawny stood up from her seat and left.

The bathrooms in the library were not the most glamourous in the world. In fact, they were downright cavernous. Located in the basement, the sterile floor tiles and grey-washed concrete walls made it feel more like a dungeon far removed from the Dark Academia esthetic of the rest of the library.

Still, because they were tucked away underground and unsightly, she knew they'd be deserted and would give her time to think.

Or so she thought.

As she was about to turn the corner, Tawny heard the sound of voices.

"What do you want?" said the first voice. It was male, and familiar.

"...I just wanted to talk to you," came the second voice. Tawny immediately identified the voice as coming from Elizabeth.

"It's over between us," said the male voice, who Tawny now identified as belonging to Grady, Dylan's best friend.

"How can you say that?" Elizabeth said, a hint of desperation in her voice. "After what happened? What am I supposed to do?"

"Get rid of it," was Grady's succinct reply. "I've moved on. So should you."

There was silence for several seconds, then Grady spoke again. "I gotta go. Dylan's expecting me."

Tawny braced herself to encounter Grady as he turned the corner; thankfully, he went in the opposite direction, his footsteps echoing against the tiles in the corridor as he departed.

When the footsteps dissipated, all Tawny could hear was the sound of crying.

Tawny took a deep breath and turned the corner, confronting Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was sitting on the ground, crying into her hands.

Tawny cleared her throat. "Hey...Elizabeth....are you okay?"

Elizabeth looked up; her impeccable hair was out of sorts and limp, and her usually pretty face was just a collection of running mascara, snot and tears.

"I'm pregnant," spat Elizabeth. "What the hell do you think?"

Elizabeth continued to cry into her hands. Tawny had expected this reaction and walked past her to access the washroom.

After several seconds, Tawny returned with a rolled-up wad of toilet paper, which she handed to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked up at Tawny, suspicious.

"What are you doing?" asked Elizabeth. "What is this?"

"It's called being compassionate," replied Tawny. "Take it."

Elizabeth took the toilet paper and blew into it messily.

"Look," began Tawny. "I'm not going to tell anyone about this. But I really think you need to talk to someone."

"Elaine and Violet already know," said Elizabeth.

"Besides them," said Tawny. "Someone you can trust. Anyway, I better head back."

Tawny walked by Elizabeth. Before turning the corner, Tawny glanced back one last time at Elizabeth.

The image would be etched in her mind forever: Elizabeth looking devastated, kneeling on the cold, tiled floor, staring at the toilet paper in her hands, now damp with her sadness.

“Yes, I will do just that.” The lad makes sure his Kimono is straight and tries to put the pieces of fringe back only to have them spring back to frame his eyes. He takes a breath before he makes his way through the house to reach the front door just as the Bitō knocks on it. He slips on some Setta and quickly hides the king’s boots in the cupboard before he opens the door.

The Bitō performs a shallow bow. “I trust you are well?”

“Yes, I am much better.”

“I am pleased to hear.” He bows again before he turns and walks away.

Watanabe-san takes a deep breath and quickly goes after him. “I was going to invite you in for some tea. Unless you are on a deadline?”

The big man is somewhat puzzled by this sudden invite into the young man’s home. He performs a slight bow and follows him inside for he knows it would be rude of him to decline.

Takumi shows him into a nice sitting room that is decorated with wallhangings of red-crowned cranes. Then he leaves and makes his way to the kitchen to find the king has already made a start on the tea. “What are you doing? You are my guest.”

“I could see how uncomfortable I have made you dealing with a man that is not to your liking.”

“My parents told me I was too picky and I should not judge a man purely on his appearances. They were right, because he seems really nice at the moment. I will scream if I need your assistance.”

“Fear enough. I will be on the walkway outside. Do not worry I will not catch cold.”

Watanabe-san picks up the tray and bows to the king before he makes his way back to the Bitō, who even helps him to set the tray down on the floor. He takes hold of the lad’s hand and tells him, “Please do not force yourself to do this. I know I am not pleasant on the eyes… this is gluttony for you. I was too young to stop them from turning me in to this. When I was old enough I left home. However, as you can see the damage to my body has already been done. It is why I became a delivery boy to get my weight down and I have lost a lot. Trust me I could not even ride a horse a few years ago.”

“What are saying, your parents made you big?”

The man sighs and rises. “I should explain my clan is not responsible for the fall of Sasaki castle. However, they do live life of luxury and have allowed their greed to blind them. I am not lying they have become fat and lazy. I was forced to consume larger and larger amounts of food and when I refused I was whipped. One day my once slim body was gone and I became a horrible sweaty man. I know you were not really ill, it was the thought of making love to a fat slob which made you wrench. I cannot blame you when I am nothing other than a fat, stinky slob. And on that note I will take my leave before I make you sick again.”

Takumi goes to him and takes hold of his hand. “I am so sorry for what has happened to you. My offer still stands if you have had enough of shifting stinky barrels.”

“I would like that very much. The thing is I want to find out who is ordering such a nasty cheap bathing oil. Once I have delivered it I make for the nearest bathhouse and scrub myself raw. Like I have already mention the Bitō Clan had nothing to do with the Sasaki family. I am begging to uncover we were framed. I am worried that who was really behind it has started again to kill the remaining members. When I heard about the fires in Izumi I started think is this oil I am delivering being used for that? This is why I have started my own investigation to uncover what really happened at Sasaki Castle. Before I say anything else, I want to make it clear I did not stop here on purpose because you are a Watanabe. A man in your village recommended you to me.” He places a hand to his chest and continues, “I swear from the bottom of my heart I fancy you. It is why I kept coming back, because I wanted you to get to know me for who I am and not what you see. I am not bothered about your connections… I just wanted to get to know you.”

Watanabe-san takes hold of his hand and apologises, “I am sorry for lying to you. Nor should I judge you before I had gotten to know you. You do seem quite a decent man who is trying to solve a mystery and your information could be the key to solve it.”

“You are pinning too much hope on me. I should at least give you my name, Bitō Yutaka.”

They bow and young man tells him, “My name is Takumi. Surely you have the name and the address of person you are taking it to?”

The well-built man laughs and expresses, “No, name and the address leads to a Buddhist Temple in Sakai that lies next to a small keyhole shape tomb. From the parking area, where I have to leave the barrels, I am able to see the cemetery. I never see anyone. I just do as I am told, take the money that has been left for me in the box and leave stinking to high heaven.”

Takumi gets him to sit down and have a cup of tea. “So, the same place every time?”

“Yes… I will say this, it is all very, very strange and a bit creepy. Oh, I should also mention it is always the same number of barrels twenty-one. What happens to them after I leave them is anyones guess. I asked the monks if they had seen anyone and they all told me the same thing by morning the barrels are gone and all they hear in the middle of the night is a cart squeaking its way down the narrowed road. The Kannushi told me I should mention the odd delivery to the Yamato. I was thinking on the way back I could make a slight detour and make a stop at the Main Court in Nara. Then it dawned on me I have nothing.”

“No, you have plenty to give them… is that not so, Uncle?”

The Bitō watches the doors to the walkway open to revel the king, who is dressed in his legendary armour, comes stepping inside. This makes Yutaka perform the Kowtow and quickly says, “Your Highness, I swear I would never harm any member of your family.” He is surprised to fell a hand under his chin and his head is gently lifted. This is when he sees the king is not wearing his classic demon mask, for this one seems more human and he watches his lips into a soft smile.

“You do not have to bow to me, lad,” instructs the king, “especially when I have been out there this whole time listening in. Takumi is right, your information is valuable. I can tell from the tone of your voice you speak the truth. Might I enquire who do you work for?”

“I work for Jasmine Rose,” answers Yutaka, listening to them both softly gasp. “I know one of the biggest perfume makers in Japan. The owner Takada-san has nothing to do with that smelly oil, that task falls to Miss Murata and she told me it is for cleaning drains. She told me not to ask questions, just do as I am told. Drop off the oil at location and take payment, which I am allow to keep.” He goes on to remove the pouch from the straps of his Hakama and opens the top. “The thing is they pay me in gold coins, the likes of which I have never seen before.”

The Bitō pulls one out and shows it to them. When the king holds out his slender right hand he sets the coin upon his palm.

“My word, that is pure gold,” states Yūrei, turning the coin over. “Chrysanthemum on both sides and no other markings. I see what you mean, this is odd… very odd. Well, it adds more mystery to the delivery. And takes me back to the Clan Wars when similar money was used to pay for men to throw their lives away in order to protect their king. Also the Chrysanthemum represents the Montoku royal family. Funny enough they refused to come under the rule of the Yamato, until the third son became emperor. Sorry I am just muttering away.”

“It is quite all right,” says Yutaka, performing a slight bow. “It is fascinating to know… surely this cannot be that same money?”

The Masked Warrior again rotates the coin within his slender fingers. “I believe it is… The problem is that family no longer exists. Like most families, during the Clan Wars they were wiped out or changed their family name once they became part of the Yamato. It was one of the most strangest things to occur in that time. You know you could just take this money and just run.”

“Oh, I was tempted when I received my first payment. The thing is I wanted to discover why they felt the need to pay me this way and more importantly what were they doing with their odd order. I admit I am a coward. I would not stay at the monastery to catch them in the act. When I discovered they came during the night I thought I would not be able to see anything just some moving shapes.”

The young man gives the Bitō a pat on the arm. “You are not a cawed, I say it is best to just carry out the order and leave, for you have no idea what the recipient is like. I say it is not worth the risk.”

“I agree with Takumi. It is a shame I have missed your last order and I take it there will not be another one for quite some time?”

“Yes, I am afraid so, your grace. It will be another three years before they make the next order.”

“Damn. Yet it tells me they are still operating in Izumi, which means it is a separate case to what is happening here in less than a weeks time and his target is not the family… it must be the temple.” The legend sighs and apologises, “Sorry, there I go again muttering away to myself.”

“It is all right, uncle, you have a lot going on at the moment. In a way I have added to it.”

“In a good way, my boy. As this is helping to piece together the fires are completely separate to the bandits who have been haired to kill the last of the Sasaki family… then again I think there is another reason why Rin is attacking the temple… I was hoping that you, Yutaka, would be him, the bandit leader I need to question. I take it nether of you have seen another big man around the village?”

Both mortals shake their heads and Yutaka informs the king, “I know it was never my family who took down the Sasaki. We were framed for a crime we never committed.”

“Oh, how do you know this?”

“Well, your grace, one, all my family are well over weight and two my entire family live near Mount Fuji. I swear no one has ever lived in Nara.”

The Great Warrior folds his arms and says somewhat to himself, “Why was the Major so quick to blame the Bitō Clan?”

“Uncle, that is a good question, why blame a family who lives so far away? Unless he knew them and had a grudge against them,” implies Takumi, noticing his guest is shaking head. “Ah, let me guess that is not very likely?”

Yutaka performs a slight bow and answers, “I wish it was, the problem is my family keep themselves to themselves in a small village similar to this. It is why sadly their abuse went unnoticed. I was glad I got away when I did, for my parents and three of my brothers are already dead… there is only me and my youngest brother left. If there are any other members of the family left I have never met them nor have they showed up at a funeral.”

The Masked Warrior and Watanabe-san are shocked to hear this and they cannot help but give him a hug, which makes him feel very uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I should explain hugging comes from Einar,” informs Yūrei, “it is a western thing to do when someone tells you something that is upsetting. Seriously he would be going ooh come here and giving you a big hug. We have gotten used to him doing it.”

Takumi giggles and expresses, “Trust me when you have grown up with it, it feels strange not to be hugged when I am upset. Or say something moving. Uncle Einar is very sweet.”

“I see, and I think it is something I could get use to.”

“Glad to hear it,” says the legend, patting him on the arm.

The Bitō performs a slight bow. “Going back to what you were saying, your highness, I agree it is a bit odd why the Major blamed my clan. Even if they were going around topless how would he have seen their tattoos in the dark? Even in torchlight tattoos could appear different.”

“Tattoos,” mutters the young man. “Could Yoshi have been miss informed?”

“I am afraid so, my boy, because Yutaka is right, it was the middle of the night when the castle was attacked by… if I am recalling correctly, masked men who werey dressed in trousers, smaller to what the Chinese invented for horse riding, and the sleeves of their Kimonos were tied out of the way. At the time Tenjō said the Major was quick to name someone when he had no proof to back up his claim. It was all very strange. It is why it is still an open case. Anyway, I had best get back to them for I have a good idea now who is after the family.”

Watanabe-san walks with him out of the room and down to the entrance. “See I was too quick to judge,” he whispers, going on to help his uncle with his boots. “Yutaka seems a decent man. Thank you, Uncle.”

“Why you thanking me, lad? I just gave you the push you needed to see past his appearance and get to know the real him. I can tell he really fancy you, so get back in there and just do not rush into anything.”

The young man giggles and he blushes at the thought of doing more with Bitō-san. Then they both turn to the corridor when they hear the big man is coming down the corridor.

“Your highness,” he says with a bow, “come to think of it I have seen a man like myself in Gojō at the Kongo-ji Temple. He was dressed in light grey with a blue belt that had, I think a Chrysanthemum in the centre… yes, it was dark red.”

“Now that is interesting, like I said the Montoku family were the only ones to associate themselves with that flower. He clearly had not become a monk… it makes me wonder why was he visiting that temple?”

Yutaka folds his arms and informs him, “He was placing a flower at the entrance to the temple and the Kannushi was making sure none of the monks or members of the public touched it. In fact the Kannushi placed a little rope barrier around it.”

Yūrei adjusts his Katana and emits a soft sigh. “Clan Wars… the flower placed either on the steps of a temple or at the door was to inform the monks that another clan had been lost to the Yamato. To still be doing that today there has to be another reason. Have you got to get back to Gojō?”

Bitō-san give a sharp nod. “Yes, if I am to be paid the rest of my money I need to be back before dark. I am happy to drop you off at the temple on the way.”

The Masked Warrior performs a slight bow, then gives the lad a hug. “See you again soon, my boy.”

“It was wonderful to see you, Uncle.” Takumi bows to Yutaka as he leaves along with the king.

Once outside Bitō-san leads the legend over to his horse and cart and they climb aboard. “Your highness, I apologise for any trouble I have caused.”

“Trouble? My dear man, you haven’t caused any trouble… I just merely steered the lad in the right direction. You clearly have feelings for him, otherwise you would not keep seeing him despite what happened. I am glad my little push worked and he got to know you. I can also tell you are a decent man who is not lying. Or you are just very good at it.”

The left corner of Yutaka’s mouth rises and he chuckles. “Oh, I cannot believe you fell for it and you are now in my trap. I am going to take you to my leader.”

“No, I am such a fool,” cries the Great Warrior, throwing the back of his left hand to his forehead.

They both laugh and carry on getting to know each other as they travel along the road to the busy town. However, when they reach the bridge appears to be packed with traffic and Bitō-san has to bring the cart to a stop. Suddenly a police officer comes running over and performs a series of bows.

“Your-your highness,” he says with a voice full of worry, “there has been an accident, which is causing the delay. Are you needed somewhere, your highness?”

Yūrei jumps down from the cart and tells him, “No, I am just here to take a look around. This kind man was just giving me a lift to Kongo-ji Temple for it is a lovely place even in winter, right?”

“Yes, your grace,” answers Yutaka, playing along.

The officer performs another slight bow. “I am happy to take you there, your highness.”

The Masked Warrior gives a slight nod to both men, then follows the policemen over the bridge. When he reaches the other side he sees through the group of officers that a cart has  lost a wheel and small amount of white cabbages litter the road. He picks one up and takes a look at it, then makes his way over to the small crowd. Some of the policemen begin to look nervous when they realise who the masked man is dressed in fine armour with a demon mask hanging from his short sword. Where others do not know whether to bow or approach the king. Then it is too late to choose for he is standing right in front of them asking them to let him through, so they part to revel a man is lying on the ground with a woman by his side and another man with long white hair is treating them.

“Healer, what happened?” Yūrei enquires in Chinese, crouching beside them.

The god’s eyes blink a few times to make sure what he was seeing was real. “My word, your grace, I was aware you were in town.”

“Just arrived. I will make myself useful by moving the broken cart off the bridge.”

This makes the lady bow and apologise, “Sorry we are delaying you, your highn—”

The king slightly raises his left hand to get her to stop and shakes his head. “My dear, accidents happen, so do not feel you must apologise when am I here to just pay this town a visit.”

“Your grace,” whispers the lady as she performs a slight bow.

The Great Warrior places his hand on top of her head for moment before he carries on lifting and starts to move the broken cart off the bridge. Then he hears a voice command, “Help the king!” This makes a group of officers quickly assist him and together they move the cart over to a grassy area. Then the people part and a well-built man who is dressed exactly as Bitō had described steps forward. The man is clearly not happy to see the king and does not even bow to him.

The legend points his hand towards the man’s belt. “I see you are a member of the Montoku family.” The man uses his arms to hide the flower and gives a sharp grunt before he turns away. Yūrei shakes his head and goes after him. “I should not have to remind you, your rudeness can land you in jail.”

The Montoku stops and turns to face him. “Then throw me in jail for you will never get a polite word from me when you helped the Yamato to take down noble clans.”

“Let’s get one thing straight, there was no battles and each clan happily joined the Yamato because they also wanted peace. I am afraid to say it was only clans like yours who believed in such rubbish. That we were killing thousands of men, when the reality was nothing other than peace. You see it is down to the leader Tenjō being a god.”

The big man takes a breath, then he starts to laugh and expresses, “My family were always fools. You will find though I am nothing like them and me being rude to you was a test to see how you would handle one of us who, even to this day, believes you were just killing people. Well, because they just cannot accept the truth. Anyway, I apologise for the way I acted.”

“Good test and you were very convincing,” says Yūrei, patting him on the arm.

Montoku-san performs a slight bow. “I hope it is not me who brought you here?”

“Well, the thing is, see that man on the empty cart, he is being paid with your family money. They have been using it to buy a very stinky oil that is being used to set buildings alight in Izumi.”

The man’s hands turn to angry fits and he spits, “Rin! You bastard!”

Yūrei takes hold of Montoku-san’s arms and tells him, “Calm yourself.”

Montoku-san takes a few deep breaths and apologises, “I am sorry, your highness, Rin is my youngest brother who sadly has brought a lot of pain to the family.” He begins to walk down the street. “Come with me.”

The Great Warrior does as he asks and walks with him to the temple where they go on to wash their hands and mouth before continuing on to the main building.

“I try to place a flower here each day if I can,” explains Montoku-san bowing his head. “My brother became a member of the Kuro Koi when he was a teenager and somehow become the leader’s son. I myself had not seen him for well over ten years when one day, out of the blue, he turned up at this very temple. That bastard killed a monk who turned out to have been a member of his clan, all because no one is allowed to leave. I just could not believe he had turned into a monster. A year later a girl was found on these steps, she had been beaten and rapped. She was my cousin and she managed to tell me it was Rin who had done that to her before she died in my arms. Natsu yuri (Summer lily) was her name. She was a sweet, loving girl who did not deserve to die in such an horrific way. I vowed as I held her, that I would get Rin… I’m still yet to get him.”

The Masked Warrior notices the flower that has been placed outside the entrance of the temple and bows his head in respect. “I am sorry for your loss.”

The man uses a cloth to dry his eyes. “I am sorry to bring down the mood… However, I am guessing they are not the only people he has killed?”

“I do not think he has killed anyone else, for the fires in Izumi and bandits who are after the Sasaki family are one case. Rin is attacking the temple for another reason… nor have we taken in to account the fire could be started by lightning…” the Great Warrior claps his hands and calls, “Storm Dragon, that is why my husband has a barrier up.”

Montoku-san is a little confused and questions, “Why would a Storm Dragon be so far inland?”

“Weather, for strong winds can easily blow a small Dragon off course. Or the other possibility he is ill and his navigation is effected. Or he is just injured and seeking a Healer’s help. That is why my mother and Einar are seeing the new moon in their vision because it is not a real storm. Rin just happens to be hitting the same place, which could happen anytime.”

“You are right. I should mention my brother attack this place in broad daylight.”

“In that case I need to get back. Thank you for your help.”

The man is a little surprised to have the king thanking him, he responds with a slight bow. Then the legend pats him on the arm and he steps through a portal to another temple which is covered in a thick layer of snow.

hi

just wanted to tell you the day we started talking was kinda random one. at that point i was really not ready to have someone in my life because of what had happened to me. i didn't realized that tagging one of the Shahveer Jafry fanpage would get me a reply from a guy. i thought that all the shahveer jafry fanpages are handled by girls since boys don't do such things and girls are the ones simping over good looking men. i tagged your account with no intentions to talk to you or someone else. then you texted me a hey to which i responded and you were really good at having convos. i thought that sharing everything to stranger over internet is safe cuz he wont know me and i can always ghost him. but the fact that i fell in love...

we talked for some time and you became really close to me, you showed me a good side of yours which i adored but after some time things started to change, you stated acting like normal brown men who wouldn't let their women do things. you started to doubt me, you thought that i had other male friends and you accused me of things i could never do. you were really jealous and typical in this matter but it didn't matter because all i wanted was your attention so blocked the guy you didn't like then it started getting worst as you were accusing me of not giving you enough attention when all i was doing was fighting to get better grades so my parents wouldn't be so disappointed. you said that you wanted to meet but i told you that i have strict parents, and you were okay with them in the beginning. then you started forcing me over this thing . i told you that it was sort of impossible for me to do that right now but i could meet you in an year. but you were so stubborn that you decide to pull apart.

then you told me that you never leave anyone but we have to think of a solution because we were having a lot of misunderstandings and the only thing that could make us work was meeting up. you were right but the timing was not. maybe if you gave us some time to arrange something like that but you just wanted everything to be done so quick.

then came you birthday 8 September 2023, and i wished you almost at 1 am. you were really surprised that i remembered your birthday and i was really happy to do so... then later that day everything changed we had a real long conversation and then we blocked each other. you did, but i didn't... then you texted me on my second account and told me that you do care but i don't which was really heart breaking for me, then we had another convo and you blocked me from there too.

8 September,2023 it ended

it ended as soon as it started...

In the bustling city of Astoria, where the sky gleamed with the colors of a thousand enchantments, Alexander Blackwell strolled through the grand halls of his ancestral mansion. The Blackwell Manor stood as a testament to his family's wealth and power, its walls echoing with the whispers of a bygone era.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city, Alexander found himself lost in thought. Despite his riches, there was a void in his heart that no amount of wealth could fill. He longed for something more, something elusive and intangible.

It was on one such evening that fate intervened, in the form of a mysterious woman who appeared out of the shadows. She was unlike anyone Alexander had ever seen, her beauty ethereal and her presence commanding. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, seemed to pierce through his soul.

"Who are you?" Alexander asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I am Isabella Hartley," she replied, her voice like a melody that stirred something deep within him.

From that moment on, Alexander's life would never be the same. Isabella brought with her a sense of mystery and excitement, a glimpse into a world he had only dreamed of. As they spent more time together, Alexander found himself falling for her, captivated by her every word and gesture.

But as their love blossomed, dark forces conspired against them. Secrets from Isabella's past threatened to tear them apart, testing the strength of their love. And lurking in the shadows was a danger that neither of them could have imagined, a danger that would put everything they held dear at risk.

As the night stretched on, Alexander and Isabella were faced with a choice—to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume them, or to fight for their love and the future they longed for.

And so, their journey began, a journey of love, betrayal, and ultimately, redemption. As Alexander and Isabella embarked on a quest to uncover the truth, they would discover that sometimes, the greatest magic of all is simply the power of love.