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Twin Of The Sea

Chronicles Of The Twin Guardians.

In the realm of Tenkai, where the fabric of fate was woven by the ancient gods, two souls were destined to collide in a dance of destiny. The threads of their lives had been intertwined since the dawn of time, and now, the moment of their convergence was at hand. Ling, the brooding warrior, forged in the fires of adversity, stood atop a windswept mountain, gazing out upon the vast expanse of the world. His heart was as cold as the steel he wielded, and his eyes burned with a fire that could not be tamed. The flames of his passion fueled his unyielding pursuit of justice, driving him to seek out the forces of darkness that had ravaged the land. Ming, the enigmatic sorcerer, shrouded in mystery, stood at the edge of a dense forest, his eyes fixed upon the whispering leaves. His soul was as deep as the oceans, and his eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence. The spark of his magic ignited the very fabric of reality, and the ancient trees themselves seemed to lean in, as if to listen to his whispers. Their paths converged in the town of Akakawa, where the whispers of the ancients spoke of a prophecy, a contract forged in the depths of time. The Soul Contract Sword, a blade of unimaginable power, awaited the one who could unlock its secrets. The sword was said to be able to vanquish any darkness, and its power was coveted by all who sought to wield it. As Ling and Ming walked through the bustling streets of Akakawa, their eyes met, and the air seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy. They felt an inexplicable pull, as if the very fabric of fate was drawing them together. Without a word, they knew that their lives were forever intertwined. And so, they embarked on their perilous journey, navigating treacherous landscapes, avoiding deadly assassins, and unraveling the mysteries of their ancient bond. The fate of Tenkai hung in the balance, as the forces of darkness sought to claim the Soul Contract Sword for their own. From the snow-capped mountains of the north to the scorching deserts of the south, Ling and Ming were tested, their resolve forged in the fires of adversity. They battled fearsome foes, solved ancient puzzles, and uncovered hidden secrets. With each step, their bond grew stronger, their trust in each other deepening. But the journey was not without its challenges. The forces of darkness were relentless, and the duo faced numerous trials that threatened to tear them asunder. There were times when Ling's unwavering dedication to justice clashed with Ming's more nuanced understanding of the world. There were moments when Ming's mysterious nature sparked Ling's suspicions, and the warrior's anger flared. Yet, through it all, they persevered, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. They learned to rely on each other, to trust in their unique skills and strengths. And as they journeyed deeper into the heart of Tenkai, they began to realize that their connection went far beyond mere fate. The ancient gods themselves had ordained this union, a bond of fate that transcended the boundaries of time and space. The fate of Tenkai was but a pawn in a far larger game, one that would determine the course of history. And so, Ling and Ming pressed on, driven by their unyielding determination to fulfill the terms of the Soul Contract Sword. The journey was long, the road fraught with peril, but they walked on, side by side, their bond growing stronger with each step. For in a world where fate was woven by the ancient gods, Ling and Ming knew that their love was the greatest power of all.
Kerrylinks1 · 8.1K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 707.7K Views
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