buecherwurmautor

And so came the era when the mists cleared. The legion stood ready to halt the barely visible but immense gray horde. The thorns of the recent past embedded in Ayrem and Lasarih's flesh were like the teeth of those whose words lied, whose actions caused pain, whose will brought darkness. The fronts had a deep and wide chasm between them. One could not mistakenly stand here or there. Countless events were intertwined, including the love of two noble children, each having left their safe ancestral homes to form a bond at the “Intersection.” It was an island in the cosmos, full of signposts, paths that led in directions one could only find by turning correctly here. A miracle in eternity, a uniquely beautiful blossom sprouted. Ayrem sat beneath the mighty tree trunk and gazed into the distance, where they had suffered. “So far away! The distance raises doubts about whether I still recognize the reality within it. But yes, I feel it.” The day the power of the evil Mistress had

‘The Voices of the Invisible, meddling in thoughts, those who are not on my side, pretending to warn me but only seeking to sow chaos... they are the worst of all...’ Lasarih didn't know where Ayrem had ended up, she didn't even know her own location. This labyrinth had such complex ways that it felt like a universe full of paths, leading through ruins, past poisonous plants and ugly sculptures, exposing one to visions that were pieced together from the mortar of their own nightmares. The young woman thought of her fiancé. The voice of the evil mistress of this place had already welcomed her. What had been lies, what had been true? The gentle, benevolent thoughts in Lasarih sounded like the self-talk Ayrem often engaged in. Uncertain, angry... when he thought of Lasarih, a loving nature filled him and soothed and comforted Ayrem once again, for now. At least Lasarih knew that about him. “I'm calling you. Unfortunately, you don't answer.” She held onto the belief that he was still

Lullaby 23 It was quiet, a quiet that puzzled in the face of decisive events of these days. Silent shadows crept around and observed the people' activities. They thought that this day was one of all days, that everything had always been like this and would remain like this. Nothing could be further from the truth. The reality could break into many splinters every day, the playroom of the people could be torn down all the time, just as the government building of Lullaby was lying there in its ruins a few hours ago, collapsed after a 'terrorist attack'. No one talked about it. It was not their business. It was life just there to have fun, even if the true joy of life was missing. On other planes, people were fighting for humanity who, along with Nicklas, had participated in the construction of this world and had long kept away from each other, never to become those beings of whom Zeran had aspired to be the supreme one of them. The world of the Gods was a mystique that sometimes

The castle of vampires, a shrine of unknown power. Murmurs, soft whispers. Once there had been a quarrel that had divided the mutable Nighttime Butterflies, as they were called, as to their disposition and the way ahead. ... This splendor was elevated above the gardens beyond the bridge, this was the heart of a world in which the nobility lived, had in their possession, and knew things that could not have been made comprehensible to the people. Riev came to a terrace. He heard the sound of a violin, the voice of a woman singing a beautiful song; to Riev it sounded sad. The warrior of the Nighttime Beings slowed down. On a chair sat a man. He had a cloak that fell from him like a waterfall, was a noble garment, the man looked dignified with it as he gazed upward into the vastness, home to countless unknown wonders. A bottle of shimmering wine stood on a table beside him, and a glass for a second person. Riev approached from behind. He crept, half in the dream ocean, half in