Now that you have enjoyed the stories of the Compiler, it is my turn to show you my stories.
I, the Bard, have been observing how these stories unfold. After they are made and edited, it is my duty to tell them, adding the ending they may need.
I am in the end, I have seen the road these stories took... Now that I know where they are heading, I can prepare the final chapter. That's my duty. I must finish them.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Sunday, August 25, 2013
For the Pain to Stop
Come little
changeling, come out and play
Run fast little
changeling, it is time of the fay
What art thou
looking, little changeling?
Is it your mom and
dad?
Worry not, little
changeling
Nothing will go bad
You say that it will
happen again?
My, little changeling
I can feel your pain
But do not worry,
little changeling
With thee I will stay
To happy thee most
From all this we will
away
I know of a place where
winter is not
A place safe e’en to
the blind
And you find the ones
you sought
No fey will you find
If you want to enter,
all you must forgo
Free you will be of all your throes!
Now…wait!
Do not away from me,
little changeling!
It all for thy sake!
Wait… do not go…
Please... If it was yours
Away him from our wars
Prayers
In water, I pray upon
Mannanán, so his waves clear anything foul
In the hearth, I call
Brighid, her Awen enlightens my soul
In darkness, I call Arawn,
to put the restless under control
In my mind, I pray
upon Cernunnos, from this life He gave parole
For the water were
clear
For the winter to
endure
To know our world’s
frontiers
To honor music and
its allure
Please, accept this
gift
Come in wings swift
Come that gone is the
day
Come before the other
fey
I be your faithful
servant
Once gone astray
I do worship you most
fervent
I do not know how to
betray
All I ask you is to
forgive
For he is very young
He is not your key
For you he has not
sung
Please stop haunting
him
His life can not be
this grim
He hath to stop living
To every plague whim
Friday, August 23, 2013
The Compiler
Veiled, she
can't keep a single face
Gloved,
because her stain isn’t yet
Inexorable,
if by her rules you bend
You will find
her near the end
She is the
sword no one can befriend
She makes
sure the story goes to her intend
Capped, so you know when he knocks Covered, so the world he can endure
One Glove, picks if mark or not Gloveless, lasting is his spoor
Whimsy, brings joy or naught Stark, his sight you can't obscure
God knows where shall now be He is there, don’t try to hide
Like gold mines, hard to foresee Like a cane, he'll be your guide
In his stories, drama he decrees He narrates as the story goes by
Bruised, all accidents he
felt
Ragged, his mark slowly
fades
Kind, he knows you from
youth
He is at the start, at your
roots
Drink from his cup
and you'll see the truth
He made you, don't be
uncouth
What Was... And now Is
That morning was unusual.
Father said he would tell something important at breakfast… but he was gone. He
didn’t answer his cellphone, either… Knowing him, probably he was in his
morning walk but he didn’t take his earphones or his music player. He really wished to know what his father was about to tell him...
“Don't be afraid, you're not alone… You will soon stop being in the unknown.”
Outside, there was a lot of fog and a strong wind blowing. Christian could barely see anything... but he could hear everything. There were moans, screams, pleas... Ominous silhouettes faded into the dense fog, leaving a lot to the imagination. For brief moments... trees stopped being trees, kids stopped being kids, birds stopped being birds... and they faded into the fog. Chris's was slowly being driven to madness and the injured man was about to turn to see him... before his neck violently set itself straight, making a brief, but painful, cracking noise.
They soon arrived at the crossroad. The fog dispersed, revealing it crowded and full of cars. Chris could see Jacques and Ophelia... and the SUV, and the mean mother. The injured man saw skyward, it was about to rain... with a look of sadness in his face.
Christian was very confused… and he felt a very cold breeze that chilled his spine. The clouds gathered… and a heavy storm fell over the place. When the young man tried to talk to the injured man… An imposing man, with a grey coat and frozen blue eyes, was standing in his place. He slammed the lid of his pocket watch, making a loud clapping noise.
From the south road emerged Constantino, his hands full with delicious coffee and some donuts. His smile and his desire to surprise his kid faded away when he saw it… himself, walking with his young son... and he turned around, seeing the grey man tap his watch. When his son tried to see, Constantino forcefully turned his head, causing it to sound painfully... and causing Chris's neck to hurt.
The father hurries to his son, who was brought to his knees. He is made a wreck... he saw it too. He couldn't believe that he was stalked all this time... Constantino's apologies didn't suffice... it should have been in another way. Now Chris has to deal with his present... He has to deal with us, now.
“Don't be afraid, you're not alone… You will soon stop being in the unknown.”
Outside, there was a lot of fog and a strong wind blowing. Christian could barely see anything... but he could hear everything. There were moans, screams, pleas... Ominous silhouettes faded into the dense fog, leaving a lot to the imagination. For brief moments... trees stopped being trees, kids stopped being kids, birds stopped being birds... and they faded into the fog. Chris's was slowly being driven to madness and the injured man was about to turn to see him... before his neck violently set itself straight, making a brief, but painful, cracking noise.
They soon arrived at the crossroad. The fog dispersed, revealing it crowded and full of cars. Chris could see Jacques and Ophelia... and the SUV, and the mean mother. The injured man saw skyward, it was about to rain... with a look of sadness in his face.
Christian was very confused… and he felt a very cold breeze that chilled his spine. The clouds gathered… and a heavy storm fell over the place. When the young man tried to talk to the injured man… An imposing man, with a grey coat and frozen blue eyes, was standing in his place. He slammed the lid of his pocket watch, making a loud clapping noise.
From the south road emerged Constantino, his hands full with delicious coffee and some donuts. His smile and his desire to surprise his kid faded away when he saw it… himself, walking with his young son... and he turned around, seeing the grey man tap his watch. When his son tried to see, Constantino forcefully turned his head, causing it to sound painfully... and causing Chris's neck to hurt.
The father hurries to his son, who was brought to his knees. He is made a wreck... he saw it too. He couldn't believe that he was stalked all this time... Constantino's apologies didn't suffice... it should have been in another way. Now Chris has to deal with his present... He has to deal with us, now.
East and South, Cups and Wands, Attention and Detachment
Christian Vânt and
Constantino Errante are special men. Old Constantino was an overprotective
father, especially when your son has the energy of a hamster on caffeine… Young
Chris was very hardworking and energetic but he had trouble focusing...
“You should take things calmly, kiddo, time won’t jump out of the window” Says the father, still seeing Chris as the adorable 6 year old and not as the 25 years old adult… He knows that he has to stop living in the past, as Christian knows he has to stop forgetting about the now. But a little mishap... and the world will fall over...Or it is falling already?
They feel ghostly company… Their enjoyable evening with beers and cigars would turn into something worse. Constantino knows us… But Chris doesn’t. His fixation on the little child and not on the grown up prevented him from telling his son about us. I am standing right there… looking at them.
Gray jacket and a top hat… He looks at a pocket watch, whose cover has a stylized Wand covered in ivy as an engraving. Constantino’s stern gaze was met with a nod on part of that man, but he refused to leave…
“It will come… You will hear the Nor'easter thrums”
Christian never saw Him but he always says he feels someone watching him… Constantino would always bite his tongue. If the young boy knew that those things were in his life, he would be like the others… Miserable, scared… unable to live. However, what he didn’t know was that Chris could see things too…
A bandage covered his forehead… His white silk gloves were tattered and holed… His necklace looked like an hourglass, but one of the triangles was slightly smaller giving the impression of a Cup. His gaze was tender, tired and pained, but nonetheless, gentle…
“It is set in stone... The truth shall soon be known ”
Chris saw his father spilling a few tears before saying “I have to tell you”… but in some minutes, he was back to normal, asking again if Chris wanted a beer.
“You should take things calmly, kiddo, time won’t jump out of the window” Says the father, still seeing Chris as the adorable 6 year old and not as the 25 years old adult… He knows that he has to stop living in the past, as Christian knows he has to stop forgetting about the now. But a little mishap... and the world will fall over...Or it is falling already?
They feel ghostly company… Their enjoyable evening with beers and cigars would turn into something worse. Constantino knows us… But Chris doesn’t. His fixation on the little child and not on the grown up prevented him from telling his son about us. I am standing right there… looking at them.
Gray jacket and a top hat… He looks at a pocket watch, whose cover has a stylized Wand covered in ivy as an engraving. Constantino’s stern gaze was met with a nod on part of that man, but he refused to leave…
“It will come… You will hear the Nor'easter thrums”
Christian never saw Him but he always says he feels someone watching him… Constantino would always bite his tongue. If the young boy knew that those things were in his life, he would be like the others… Miserable, scared… unable to live. However, what he didn’t know was that Chris could see things too…
A bandage covered his forehead… His white silk gloves were tattered and holed… His necklace looked like an hourglass, but one of the triangles was slightly smaller giving the impression of a Cup. His gaze was tender, tired and pained, but nonetheless, gentle…
“It is set in stone... The truth shall soon be known ”
Chris saw his father spilling a few tears before saying “I have to tell you”… but in some minutes, he was back to normal, asking again if Chris wanted a beer.
What Will Be
After the shocking morning,
she will arrive at the office. Despite her worries, she wouldn’t be late. She
will try to dissimulate, but the only thing she wants was to be in her office
alone. Ophelia shall give everything she owes to Christian and he will coldly
take everything; all paperwork will disappear from her desk, the records of the
sales will be handed over to Constantino, who will be very frustrated about
something. She shall be busy in her desk, so she will never smile or greet back
when they speak to her.
She will sit in her chair and stare at a photo. “Lindsay never seemed so happy…” Just one mishap… And the world fell over. That made her change… and she decreed that her future would be made by her, nobody will interfere…
The woman’s face still fresh in her mind; it will hurt to remember it… And her voice still was clear as ice “Never look, but don’t disturb the brook.” Was she supposed to not interfere with the young girl? What she meant with brook? That fear of not knowing will eat her from the inside… It will be about to happen.
Her boss will die. Every executive, herself included, will be forced to decide the fate of the company. The news will soon arrive… And all she will do is wallow in grief. Everyone will head for the conference room; doubt regarding their CEO will cloud their minds.
While heading for the conference room, she shall see a mysterious figure in the window. It will be covered in rags and look poor. The familiarity will strike again. And soon, she shall see… Nightmares are just fakes! They will never come to reality? Do they? They aren’t supposed to be like this…
She will feel impotent… She knows Edward wasn’t a leader. She will begin thinking of every outcome: Poverty, loneliness, dependence… Loneliness… The huge shadow casted against her will snap her out of such negativity.
A veil will cover her face… Red opera gloves… A crystalline octahedron will hang from her neck, each face showing something different… It was very thin; it looked like a Sword…
The woman will silently caress Ophelia’s hair... And she will remove her veil. For a moment, she will look like that mother… For other, she will resemble the poor crone… And her face will always resemble Ophelia… Either she or someone else; but a police officer will arrive, an order in hand which to take Lindsay away… based on emotional neglect and lack of response after an assault.
“You shall see what the waters took, after I told you to not look."
She will sit in her chair and stare at a photo. “Lindsay never seemed so happy…” Just one mishap… And the world fell over. That made her change… and she decreed that her future would be made by her, nobody will interfere…
The woman’s face still fresh in her mind; it will hurt to remember it… And her voice still was clear as ice “Never look, but don’t disturb the brook.” Was she supposed to not interfere with the young girl? What she meant with brook? That fear of not knowing will eat her from the inside… It will be about to happen.
Her boss will die. Every executive, herself included, will be forced to decide the fate of the company. The news will soon arrive… And all she will do is wallow in grief. Everyone will head for the conference room; doubt regarding their CEO will cloud their minds.
While heading for the conference room, she shall see a mysterious figure in the window. It will be covered in rags and look poor. The familiarity will strike again. And soon, she shall see… Nightmares are just fakes! They will never come to reality? Do they? They aren’t supposed to be like this…
She will feel impotent… She knows Edward wasn’t a leader. She will begin thinking of every outcome: Poverty, loneliness, dependence… Loneliness… The huge shadow casted against her will snap her out of such negativity.
A veil will cover her face… Red opera gloves… A crystalline octahedron will hang from her neck, each face showing something different… It was very thin; it looked like a Sword…
The woman will silently caress Ophelia’s hair... And she will remove her veil. For a moment, she will look like that mother… For other, she will resemble the poor crone… And her face will always resemble Ophelia… Either she or someone else; but a police officer will arrive, an order in hand which to take Lindsay away… based on emotional neglect and lack of response after an assault.
“You shall see what the waters took, after I told you to not look."
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