Perhaps it was earlier in life than some when the gift was awakened in me, but awake it did. Like so many before me I was lost and blind, ready for the end. Whether it was so desperate as another, in the end of ends, it does not matter. If you have been marked for the gift, the gift will awake. From those who have been marked it is said to completely transform your world. I bear witness to this. Do not be fooled by fanciful words or let your mind spin in circles over sometimes deep, confusing truths. Everything you read here has been carefully crafted to bring you to your gift, if it is your destiny to be gifted.
Though I am but one voice among the army of the gifted, I promise I will speak what I can for each of you, whatever that is worth. For those of you awakened, welcome to my journey. Fear not, the Master wove your own story to this moment. I asked him to do so. Though I am still far away from home, you can rest easy, if only for a moment, knowing I am a blood brother. I have no idea what destiny has been written for me. I am but an apprentice and an apprentice I will contently remain, forever.
You see, the gifted, those marked and chosen, they are despised by most, sometimes tolerated if we continue to soil our souls in some way, but poison it is to give quarter where quarter should not be given. Among the gifted there are some, a few set aside to live a life in a unique struggle of their own, the sorcerer.
The very word causes magicians and alchemists, peasant and noble, savage and beast to spit in disgust. To be certain the revulsion is not without reason. Most gifted with sorcerous talents, whatever form the mysteries of destiny have written these talents take, are the most despicable worms who weave lies and darkness deep into the hearts and minds of the innocent. There are some, however, like myself, who have been marked and when we awake, we see the deplorable perversion that has torn this beautiful world apart, what it was, what it has become and what it should be. Few of us ever recover from that horror.
The moment my heart awoke, I sought apprenticeship. I am currently under the tutulidge of a very clever magician who has found a way to weave through the very fabric of time itself. It is a secret he guards carefully and for magicians and the learned I understand and respect that choice, but the sorcerer, we touch the world in a most deadly and perilous way. It is through sheer will that we reach deep into the truths of reality and wrench the wild passions inspired by true beauty hidden deep within the secret places of the soul. We tear them free and then bear them to what purpose we choose. History has shown what darkness has been wrought by the wicked with sorcerous talents.
Still fewer bear a rare mark, a mark so rare, a gift so precious that even those in other places fear their lives. It is the destiny of these rare creatures to weave the story of time. Welcome to the Tome of The Fatespinner.
Tome of the Fatespinner
-
twst987
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Mon Dec 22, 2014 11:19 am
Chapter 1: The World Between Worlds
There are several pages left blank here.
-
twst987
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Mon Dec 22, 2014 11:19 am
Chapter 2: Between Cups of Tea
Once upon a time in a land far from here, there was a noble monkey prince. I know, perhaps, what it is your are thinking. At the very least, I know what I would be thinking if I were you, that of all the monkeys you have seen, all the wild and violent fits, all the threatening raspberries blown, clenched fists beating proud chests, the tales of unfortunate mess monkeys are fabled to mysteriously create in their own hand, the stare of bewilderment before it has all been thrown, of all the strange things one might never think they would see is a monkey prince dreaming of nobility. I would be remiss if I did not admit there was a certain part of me, a deep secret part of me, quite angry and hesitant when destiny spoke. Whatever reasons brought me to this wild land of monkeys and endless rows of corn, a land of the confused and perhaps desperately forlorn, whatever the reasons, for certain there are reasons to be found, I was left face to face with the noble monkey prince as he slowly, reluctantly awoke.
It was a dark and dangerous cave where I first saw the monkey prince's face, a despicably hairy, but lovable portrait, framed with the mud and grime of eyes far too blind to see the peril his pure monkey heart was in. He swung his mighty sword and bled many a man and woman dead, for fear of my life I beamed him a most mischevous grin. Though the blood of his enemies lay pooling beneath his feet, at first it seemed he might get lost quite before we had a chance to begin. For it was in this moment it was laid bare and plain for me to see that this monkey prince, with a mighty sword bathed in the blood of his enemies, that even among the strange and twisted lands of the monkeys in lands far away, there was hope.
The monkey prince did take notice of me with beady eyes and sweat soaked brow, if only for the briefest of moments, as he looked down upon me from his mighty sword. For some reason I will most likely never know, he decided to let me live. It might seem strange to some, but to tell the tale I am bound to tell, to weave the story true, to touch upon the heart of these words, I hated him for that. Between cups of tea, the moon, the dance and me, stood a noble monkey prince, his blood soaked sword and his dreams of becoming king. As fate would have it, some might say luck, I parted ways for a short time with this ferocious, blood soaked monkey king. It was not long, after only a brief moment or two, I would meet the monkey prince again.
To have put myself in such a precarious position, shame on me. Even the most untrained eyes should find it plain to see I owed this monkey my life, if only by way of an insignificant moment in his brutal climb to king. Being caught quite off my guard, time will tell the full foolish folly of my fear fed words, I pondered quickly what gift to give such a savage warrior. Being stubborn and my ways set hard, I wondered, quite sick to my stomach now, if I would regret granting a wish. A monkey sings songs and a monkey dreams dawns, perhaps a monkey can be clever and sly. Whether I liked it or not, the noble monkey prince wished and awoke, opened his eyes when I spoke, together we walk, forever into destiny, at the very least, until the day I die.
It was a dark and dangerous cave where I first saw the monkey prince's face, a despicably hairy, but lovable portrait, framed with the mud and grime of eyes far too blind to see the peril his pure monkey heart was in. He swung his mighty sword and bled many a man and woman dead, for fear of my life I beamed him a most mischevous grin. Though the blood of his enemies lay pooling beneath his feet, at first it seemed he might get lost quite before we had a chance to begin. For it was in this moment it was laid bare and plain for me to see that this monkey prince, with a mighty sword bathed in the blood of his enemies, that even among the strange and twisted lands of the monkeys in lands far away, there was hope.
The monkey prince did take notice of me with beady eyes and sweat soaked brow, if only for the briefest of moments, as he looked down upon me from his mighty sword. For some reason I will most likely never know, he decided to let me live. It might seem strange to some, but to tell the tale I am bound to tell, to weave the story true, to touch upon the heart of these words, I hated him for that. Between cups of tea, the moon, the dance and me, stood a noble monkey prince, his blood soaked sword and his dreams of becoming king. As fate would have it, some might say luck, I parted ways for a short time with this ferocious, blood soaked monkey king. It was not long, after only a brief moment or two, I would meet the monkey prince again.
To have put myself in such a precarious position, shame on me. Even the most untrained eyes should find it plain to see I owed this monkey my life, if only by way of an insignificant moment in his brutal climb to king. Being caught quite off my guard, time will tell the full foolish folly of my fear fed words, I pondered quickly what gift to give such a savage warrior. Being stubborn and my ways set hard, I wondered, quite sick to my stomach now, if I would regret granting a wish. A monkey sings songs and a monkey dreams dawns, perhaps a monkey can be clever and sly. Whether I liked it or not, the noble monkey prince wished and awoke, opened his eyes when I spoke, together we walk, forever into destiny, at the very least, until the day I die.