《Drinks For The Soul | Poetry》Of Love:
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Love's a tricky one, isn't it? I don't know the greatest deal about it. However, I do know something. It's indescribable, and honestly, as a writer, that's something I enjoy exploring.
We faced each other,
Under clouds of storm,
And told one another,
Words we wished to hear.
She had said "I like you,"
And I had responded,
"I love you too".
And my heart shattered,
And rose like vapor,
To the clouds,
To be deafened by thunder.
I then froze,
As a heart returned weary,
From freezing skies,
Down to a colder body.
We went ways,
And I desperately tried,
to forget the day,
I had told a girl,
"I love you."
Years went by,
And arrived the day,
When I could just lay,
No longer haunted,
By the words I had whispered,
To a girl I had loved.
And when I saw her next,
We spoke,
We laughed,
We remembered,
And she stared me dead in the eye,
And said,
"I thought you were brave that day."
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You emphasized harmony your whole life and this is how you go…!’The successor of the Spear Master Sect and his apprentice Hyuk Woon Seong were framed of learning a forbidden Demonic art and slayed. A helpless and pitiful death by the hypocrites of the Orthodox Sect.The moment Woon Seong faced his death, The artifact of the Spear Master Sect emitted a light and gave him a new life. The life as Number 900, a trainee of the Demonic Cult!The two identities, the Orthodox Sect and the Demonic Cult. But his objective is one. Vengeance! Accepting his destiny and remembering his grudge, Woon Seong trains in martial arts And his time of revenge slowly comes closer…Take over the Demonic Cult and punish the hypocrites of the Orthodox Sect! The revenge story of Number 900, Woon Seong growing in tasks of life and death.
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One hundred and fifty years ago, The Witch of Despair fell into a slumber. Fires burnt like raging hellfire as kingdoms fell and mountains turned to plains, her agonized scream and cry over her betrayal resounded throughout the Isles. And her final wish, all but forgotten to the people of the Abyss. A child born from the wish of a broken down soul enters the world, he was an innocent child who dreams of peace and love. A child who wanted nothing more than a family who would love him as he is. They say that when you stare at the Abyss, it stares back, but when one sets their gazes down at Clailip Diancia, one would find one's self unable to resist. To resist what, you ask? To resist the urge to play with those malleable pudgy cheeks and spoil this adorable, harmless, sweetie, of a little boy. Unfortunately, fire burns, and trees are flammable. Yet, this boy, soft as can be, bumbles his way through the Eastern Isles, trying to find a family that once was his. "I can't believe my bad luck managed to worm its way into this world too..." _________________________________ A/N: Please do understand that this is my first book and such I will be improving my writing with each chapter. I promise you I will do my best not to disappoint! Leave a comment or two so I can fix the mistakes and deliver a story that will please you! Also like, If you're new here I suggest just reading prologue 1 and 2 then jumping to chapter six if you want to get to the action immediately. Chapters below six are more or less slice of life style and just MC doing MC things. Though for the full experience, I highly recommend reading everything! _________________________________ UPDATES ATLEAST ONCE A WEEK NO UPDATE ON WEEKENDS IM ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE AT PROOFREADING AND SPOTTING MISTAKES PLEASE POINT THEM OUT SO I CAN FIX THEM YES AND THANK YOU __________________________________________ ON A HIATUS FOR NOW! TRYING TO IMPROVE MY WIRITNG SOMEHOW!
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In the western realm, an old man sits silently on his throne. Tired and exhausted from a lifelong pursuit of power and glory, he peacefully awaits his timely end. But, before he can take his final rest, he will make his presence known one last time and guide his youngest three descendants towards the glory of his race. Unfortunately for him, his three descendants have been basking in the glory of their ancestor for too long, ignoring the path of cultivation and gradually bringing ruin to their family...
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Credits: Story by Xcaliburnt. Cover Art by @Bervolart. Magick, the power to bend the laws of reality. All because of a mystical substance known as mana. Mages follow the Paths to achieve power, for there is no more addictive chase. Each Path winds and twists, forcing mages through the flames of adversity and challenge. Though the operative word is "path", the reality is far less straightforward. Instead of a road, Paths are like the branches of world trees, erupting into the heavens, intertwining, and ending in sharp snaps. Only the strongest reach the sky. There are several Paths, and many Ways to walk them—variations of the same Path, and like the stars, they are endless. Magick is the sacred flame that scours the fat, rendering the truest self. Superfluous flesh melting away to show the skeleton of one's being. A chance for ascension—apotheosis. Though not every mage works to godhood, if they survive long enough, It is inescapable. Witness the lives of those that tread the knife's edge of self-destruction. Each one intertwined in their search for answers, revenge, and, most of all: power. These individuals have all lost something precious—irreplaceable—and In search of filling the void left behind, they have taken up the mantle of a mage. Per aspera ad astra. Ad mortem vel divinitatis. (Through adversity to the stars. To death or divinity.) There is no consistent release schedule except my consistent inconsistency. Besides, there’s like a thousand pages worth of content, how can—you already read it? Goddamn. Oh, and there is a very long hiatus between volumes as I intend to edit and rewrite a lot. What to Expect: This story is progression fantasy, so expect a healthy dose of training. It's also heavy on slice of life, and it isn't entirely overarching-plot-driven. Expect characters to live their lives, and not always be on some quest to save the world. There's a lot of magic theory and discussion about it in the story. So, if you don't like impromptu lessons on sorcerous theory by traveling monster slayers, this might not be for you. But if you do like it, rejoice! For there is a lot of it. This is also heavy on prose, purple as a bruised eye. I use outdated, uneccesarily collegiate-level terms and play around with the writing style just for the heck of it. I find it fun to wax and wane poetic, and that might grate on you—I don’t plan to change this aspect of the Paths much if at all. Onto the viewer discretion is advised parts: This is grim-dark/ grim-heart. Take the tags seriously. There will be combat scenes that are brutal and horrifying. Fights to the death tend to be. This is a tale about medieval mercenaries (quite literal killers for hire), man-eating monsters, and eldritch gods beyond the material plane. Beside that, there will be traumatic events that are best left unread. I do not detail certain acts I find heinous enough, instead leaving some parts unwritten but still alludded to if not outright stated; there is simply no graphic narration thereof. This is not for the faint of heart.
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