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Beyond The Bright Sea Historical

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 · 692.1K Views

Beyond the Bloodline

Vampires and Werewolves... Two Powerful Races with Incompatible Bloodlines. Eternal Rivals with one another. And then someone decided to create beings who were mixtures of the two. Well…maybe they shouldn’t have done that. ◇ ◇ ◇ Eternal Life. Widely known to be an unobtainable myth, even for the long-lived elves and the all-powerful dragons. And then came Jamie. A young and promising werewolf from the prestigious Westley Werewolf Clan, finds himself entangled in a series of events that forever altered his existence. Ending up in the hands of a powerful witch, Jamie becomes the subject of a mysterious experiment, infused with the bloodline of vampires to create a Hybrid being of the two races. Among the Hybrids created by the witch, he alone stands as the only Perfect Hybrid. Throughout the ages, he rises to the top as one of the most powerful beings, living through countless eras, meeting and parting with many friends as well as witnessing the turning tides of history. Yet, this existence takes its toll, and Jamie occasionally subjects himself to self-imposed slumbers, allowing time to pass so he can embrace the future with new experiences upon waking. As he awakens from one of these slumbers, Jamie is thrust into a modern magi-technology-filled world that starkly contrasts with the ancient eras he once knew. With countless new experiences waiting for him. But things are never so simple. From the Vampires and Werewolves, who awakened him in their quest to overcome their racial weaknesses, to the other supernatural forces at play, their hidden agendas revolving around Jamie and his actions in the distant past. But most of all, three questions linger: Why was Jamie chosen by the Witch? What were their true intentions? And how would they affect Jamie, for better or worse? #wpc #wpcaugust #wpcaugust23 [Check out my other stories from my profile: Godslayer’s Legend & Reincarnated Hero System] ◇ ◇ ◇ Discord Link: https://discord.gg/ZXyAjGtS4r ◇ ◇ ◇ Support Me: https://ko-fi.com/michae_l ◇ ◇ ◇ DISCLAIMER! This novel is a work of fiction and though it draws inspiration from historical places and events, it is by no means meant to be a realistic representation of any current or historical events, places cultures, or people. The story may contain themes and events that may be disturbing to some people and if you are "triggered" by pretty much anything at all, It may not be suitable for you as I will not limit myself in terms of themes, events, or topics while writing.
_michael · 387.2K Views

Beyond silence

In a peaceful village, nestled in a valley surrounded by forests, lived a little girl named Claire. She had recently moved into an old house with her mother, after her parents had separated. The house, an ancient dwelling full of history, had a melancholic air, but Claire loved it for its tranquility. Deep down, she hoped that this new life would one day ease the pain of the separation. One winter evening, while playing alone in the living room, Claire noticed a pale, translucent figure standing near the window. It was a little boy, perhaps around her age, dressed in clothes from another era, gazing at her with sad eyes. He seemed lost and solemn. As Claire approached him, she felt an odd sense of calm. The figure slowly faded as she reached out to touch him. The next day, Claire searched for clues about this apparition. Through the old papers in the house, she discovered the story of a boy named Jules, who had lived there long before her. He had died in a tragic accident, taken too soon at the age of eight. His parents, overwhelmed by immense grief, had divorced after the loss of their child, unable to bear their shared sorrow. Jules's appearances became more frequent, and Claire began talking to him. She learned that, even in the afterlife, Jules could not find peace. He was troubled by the separation of his parents and could not bring himself to leave this world without trying to reconcile them. Claire understood that the little boy was seeking help, hoping that someone—an ordinary child like herself—could bring his parents back together and heal their broken hearts. Each night, Claire and Jules talked for long hours. She explained her own situation, the pain she felt from not seeing her father as often, the sadness of seeing her mother so lonely. Jules listened attentively while sharing his story and confiding his wish to reunite his parents. He told her, "If only they could love each other again, everything would be fine, Claire. I don’t want to see them separated in the afterlife." Gradually, Claire took the idea seriously. She began talking to her mother about Jules and his appearances, and soon, she had the courage to write a letter to her father, asking him to come back, even just for a moment, so that the family could be together, if only for an instant. One weekend, the miracle happened. Her father, touched by Claire’s letter, agreed to come and spend time with them. Claire felt as though Jules’s presence guided her every step. As the day went on, a strange but powerful sense of harmony filled the house. The tensions eased, and even though Claire’s parents knew they were not meant to be together, a new peace settled between them. That evening, after dinner, Claire found herself alone for a moment in the living room, watching the remnants of Jules’s shadow. He stood there, smiling faintly, his eyes filled with gratitude and happiness. He had not disappeared, but he seemed calmer, as if he had found peace. He gently faded away, before dissolving into the light of the fireplace.
Goodyear1 · 499 Views
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