A vivid dream.

Holley needed someone to stay with her while her parents were out of town. It was there I had this dream.

I walked icy fields, approaching the castle Hathaway.
Directed by the wise, drawn to the pure and beautiful.
I did not endure to the top. Cold and lone in the castle courtyard.

Beautiful and cold the snow fell upon me. I grew hateful of it.
I died in that dream and began another.
Climbing farther and farther up the stairs I was maddened.

I took the elevator shaking to the top of Hathaway.
When the doors opened I saw the two skies.
I could now fall in either direction.
Into the swirling darkness or back into the cold embrace of the ground.

Upwards I fell. The cold bite my naked body as I rose. Then a warm hand took me.
It spread the length of my body. I let the water take me, fill me.
I stood outside the castle once more. The wise still watched me.

"Fight for justice they said." But I could not.
"Fight for love they whispered" But I could not.

They whispered to each other in the back of mine.
"This one does not live, yet he is not dead."
"His heart was tempered in great heat, yet the cold broke it"

I was angry. Worse yet I was alone and naked. Inside is beauty they told me.
Inside is life they whispered. A vague image flashed before my eyes.
A leaf falling into a pond created a ripple. I followed it as it echoed. I can't remember what they showed me next. The pond filled with Sakura gently floating. I felt peace.
The Sakura died in beauty and with serenity.

The blood in my veils began to feel cold.
"Passion is his left hand, Discipline is his right." I could not feel the Sakura, my hand was cold.
I opened my lips: "Why is it cold?"
The wise answered me.
"It is cold outside of the castle."
"Within the castle you will be lost if you go alone."

I awoke for a time here. I felt the nuzzle of hair on my body. It was Rufus Holley's cat who wanted my affection. The light stung as it hit my eyes. Finding a blanket I fell back into my dream.

I had clothes now, in my left hand I held a short sword. It did not feel right in my hands.
"If I have no companions can I enter the castle?"
The wise did not answer me. The cold gripped my skin.
"Afraid" They echoed into my psyche.
I dropped the heavy sword and walked towards the castle. With each step the castle grew smaller until I realized I was walking away.

Gone was the snow. and the cold.
I was in the desert... my companions stood beside me looking out over a lone road.
I recognized some. The assasin with a heart torn between light and darkness. He held two swords and wore a black overcoat despite the heat. "Dwight?" I asked. He did not answer.
There were two maidens as well. One with a soul like ice. Frozen like a crystal with a harsh grin. In her arms she held an icicle rod. The other maiden was a cloaked in black, spread from her back were thin white wings. She held no weapons and her face was blotched in the spiraling darkness.

The 5th of our companions was a man of chance. He held in his hands a pair of dice which he would rub together as he watched us thoughtfully.
Without a word I knew our enemies were upon us. We drew a line and let them fall upon us.
I held my sword loosely blocking the clumsy blows of my enemies. My companions knew my skill and expected me to strike at the eyes of my enemies.

The blows did not fall. I blocked blow after blow waiting for an enemy of skill to kill me. But he never arrived. The sand covered our enemies before I could look up. My companions looked at me but said nothing.

I saw far away, 5 companions like ourselves fighting a terrible battle. Outnumbered one among them held the line even when others fell. I felt the strength of his heart across the scorching dunes. His companions would fall for a moment and then in a flourish of blows the strong warrior would dispatch their assailants. I caught a glipse of the warriors face between the flashes of blade and blood. His eyes gleamed with evil. His face was a cruel mockery of my own. Twisted and filled with dark laughter.

My companion of ice and my companion of chance turned to me.
"There are many enemies between us and them, If we do not hurry we cannot save them."
I did not fight. Some of my companions were skilled warriors. Some were not. I could see the maiden of ice plunge her weapon into the heart of an enemy. The dark maiden's blade was unseen and pierced many mortal shells. The man of chance had survived a thousnand battles with nothing more then his burning and brillant spirit. Even the assasin whose heart raged with conflict fought with more courage then I.

With each step my legs grew heavier. The sun burned my skin. The sword dragged in the sand behind me as we maintained our haggard and harried charge.
The maiden of ice was the first to falter. Withering from the heat she took a blade to her face. Warm blood soaked her clothes. I touched it but it still felt cold to me. I tried to rub it off my hands but I was covered for some reason.

The man of chance fell next. Although of my companions he was the one I knew least I felt a wave of sorrow at his passing. He fought for no reason other then because it was right.

The sand took their bodies as we pushed onwards. I raised my arm to slay the feeble. The maiden of darkness dispatched many enemies that would've cut me down. The torn assasin did his own killing away from me. Although allies I felt safer his frenzy was away from me.
As the storm kicked up I lost sight of my companions. I did not want to fall and be covered by the sand. To my right I saw a cave. Within the caves many travellers sought shelter.
One of the travellers was a mighty dwarven prince. He offered to reforge my sword.
I hadn't noticed but my sword was broken just above the hilt.
"Why are you here" I asked him. I stole half of a mighty hammer from the lord of fire. I hide here outside the meatmarket (There was in fact a meatmarket in the cave) among the travellers (Who looked like regular modern people).
I stood in the line for the meatmarket while he reforged my sword. Once he was finished I gave him some meat and left the cave.

Far off in the distance the assasin and the dark maiden fought back to back. Waves of generic soldiers slashed at them. I ran as fast as I could. But the sand pulled me down with each step.
As each fell another appeared until both were impossible to see. Sometimes a minion would dissolve into sand. Sometimes they would splatter blood and fall to the ground.

The sun grew dim and cold suddenly. I felt the assasin surge with strength. The dark maiden clung to life barely. Between the whirling of his blades I saw his eyes were not filled with hatred or fear but something I could not understand.
I called the maidens name and the soliders turned to me. In there dull lifeless eyes I felt a glimmer of fear. I fell upon them in a flash. Twirling as the assasin did in a frenzy of blade.
I felt alive as I moved from enemy to enemy. Soon the assasin and I stood alone. We didn't speak. He just inched his head into the distance. The shadow me stood against the moonlight with his companions.

His teeth gleamed viciously as he drew his sword. His eyes were filled with bloodlust. The companions he had were different from mine. Although strong they were filled with the same darkness I loathed in him. The assasin and I clanked swords in parting as we charged. I went to the left and he went to the right. I lost myself in the movements of battle. But I could feel in the coolness of the night a powerful sense of that thing I didn't understand. My blade danced with the same skill as the shadow companions. They fought without mercy and I was cut many times before I finally fell. Not far away the assasin kept fighting until each enemy was dead. He walked over to me and I looked into his eyes as the sand covered me.

All things must return.

I'm done world. Do you hear me?

You can take my sword and my pen, I've no use for them now.
I don't have the heart to face you anymore, you've taken every happiness I have ever known from me.

I can hear you mocking me: eh god? You think this is funny? I know it's my fault but you don't need to rub my nose in it.

Goodbye.

Acceptable Fuel

What is fuel for the soul?

The sadness and lonliness I have felt has slowly become anger. It's not an anger I can deal with it. To me anger is a burst of fire; powerful, passionate and gone quickly. A lingering vengeful hatred isn't something I have practice dealing with. Is anger an acceptable fuel? Can I channel that anger into the creative and productive? The famous chinese saying "The fire you set for an enemy can burn you as well" applies here; anger and frustration have a way of consuming a person almost past redemption and it's not something I want to happen to me.

Anger is a fuel to the soul; I could let my sorrow and hared consume me again. Become what I hate most and be free of the burden of fighting it... the temptation is so great that I cannot describe it. To give into that darkness once more and be free... as much as I hate it a part of me yearns for it again. Love and companionship saved me once before... now I hang on with the barest of willpower; by logic I should starve my enemy of fuel... douse the hatred with love. I don't feel love anymore however. My heart is scarred from too much pain and strife.

It reminds me of the plateu challenge, when I'm bored I find answers to difficult tactical problems. One of them was the defense of the city of Brenntor in my novel. Built on a plateau with mountains east and west; ocean to the north and layer upon layer of marble wall to the south. The men of brenntor number 1 million and the shadowlanders who lay siege equal 12.
The men of brenntor are brillant, loyal and strong. They defeated the shadowlanders invasion twice by clever use of water flooding down between the walls like channels. To a being of the shadowlands water is like acid. No matter how perfect your defense you cannot defeat your enemy without the right tactics.

I don't know anymore. Maybe it's not worth fighting myself anymore.

Grats Sollah.

Big congrats to Sollah the newest level 60 bear tank on Dark Iron. May you rend many orcs and forsaken with your claws and teeth.

Friends and Bruce Lee.

Bruce Lee is a man I admire very greatly. He had a favorite Taoist saying and I've always kept it in my mind. "Absorb what is useful; discard all else." If he thought a part of his style wasn't good enough he replaced it with something else. If he thought something wasn't right he improved it. The saying could've easily been "If it's good make it great, if it's great find something else to work on". Self cultivation is a path that lasts a life time and never finds an end. When I started my path as a Taoist I was just starting highschool and had few friends (After a falling out with the majority of them... they were bad apples anyway.)

Now I stare down my path once more and wonder if I can truly stay on it this time. Devotion to an external cause is easy. Blind faith is simple and unassailable. But to define your faith by your feelings and ideals alone is very difficult. There is no meter to gauge my success, no masters to guide me or bishops to moniter. Slowly bit by bit the old feelings return to me, I can sense the shift of energy in the wind. The charge in the air before battle or the calm and serene that follows. Looking again I see that I start alone, those that I looked too as friends are gone or turned to a path I cannot follow. It's lonely to workout alone, lonely to study alone, lonely to watch shows alone.

I suppose in many ways I brought this down upon myself and lamenting about it isn't going to better it at all. I regret having to turn away people who are not good for me... people I still have feelings for in various ways. It's ironic that I am lonely when there are those still willing to be my friend. I would trade so much for a steadfast best friend, someone at my side I could talk to without fear.