'Welling up from the waters when the world twists and turns and thrusts, shaping its slipping surfaces, these shifting stones slide from the surf to stand aloft, above the washing waves, only to be worn and wasted away by the eternal ascent and ebb of the oceans below.' https://t.co/Is1VVAD9T7
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020
'Oh little house within the clouds, beyond the heavens that mist shrouds, will you wander upon the breeze, or will you land upon the seas? Who do you hold behind your bars, secured from land and sky and stars? Oh little house that flies so high, who is trapped alone to cry?' https://t.co/rEIdcuhmn0
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020
'Beware! What has lived can live again, but what has died can commit no sin. (There's a law for that.) What wanders the waters seeking out life, that once possessed but lost it in strife, that seeks for justice in the form of death, can smell your blood and your breath.' https://t.co/DR3pOMwPgF
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020
'Magnificence defined, crest, cowl, and crown of command, decked with treasures from far and wide, emblazoned with the raiment of attainment, forged in the fiercest fires, these adornments spoke authority and power. Unfortunate that all who wore them after the first were fools.' https://t.co/LDV2jExbKs
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020
'She wandered closer when others ran, she watched it intently as it screamed and searched for something. All that inspired fear in others only drew her interest and drew her nearer. When she spoke to it, she did not tremble, for she knew what it was seeking, and why it cried.' https://t.co/DkB39OotrR
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 30, 2020
'Hers was a reluctant farewell. She did not really wish to leave this life behind, but she had grown and she had changed, and she was no longer suited to her old life, her old world with all its familiar comforts and dangers. No, she had a new life now, and she must move on. ' https://t.co/cFn7owOZIC
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 29, 2020
'They were disturbed by what they found. Yes they had come to the fallen city to study to seek the secrets of a celebrated society which ruled the world for so long, but the very success they envied troubled them, that such heights could be attained and yet still come to naught.' https://t.co/jpN575FWcY
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020
'The old ways marked by the old signs lay abandoned, untended and unknown in the modern world. The rites and rituals of ancient ancestors are no longer spoken, not even whispered by the elders, casualties of newer cults, their guarded mysteries lie dead.'https://t.co/NZZcyIQRh7
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020
'Everyone imagined the end would come by our own hand. Some stupid society would go off the rails, or religion would obliterate everything in the name of their gods, or our own hubris and insatiable greed would ruin our world. Few foresaw fire from above.'https://t.co/tlnPRxj5BD
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020
'They warned him of the wolves, they called them demons of death, devils of danger. All feared the beasts and hid in their homes when the howls arose at night. But he sought them out and earned their trust and learned their ways. Now he was their leader.'https://t.co/A3UiRwJCVQ
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 27, 2020
'We must take time to cleanse our souls and minds of all the worries and cares that populate our days, we must seek solitude and serenity in the sparkling springs, in the remote resting places that allow us to renew, to reinvigorate, to reclaim our health and well being.' https://t.co/cjuyAzcuBW
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
The problem with immortality, the true dilemma of surviving millennia, incapable of dying no matter how damaged, how distraught your mortal coil became, the question of continuance in some shattered state, staggering about as you wish for the release of the grave, is daunting.' https://t.co/vPdtaeFZkw
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'It would take all their considerable powers to rebuild, if even they could determine the cause of the calamity. The land was shrouded in the ash and smoke still, even months after, and the land itself still heaved in anger. Perhaps it was time to move on, rebuild somewhere new.' https://t.co/l563lmkvCg
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'The old ways were decaying, corroding and crumbling as they fell into disuse, as new paths were forged, more efficient and cleaner gates to other worlds. The old ways were failing now, fading from memory as they fell into disuse and disrepair, without purpose, soon forgotten.' https://t.co/bGkp0Ervuc
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'Mighty towers built upon stones, mighty cities built upon bones, mighty empires fashioned from blood, mighty men fashioned from mud, mighty systems built out of cash, mighty wonders built out of ash, mighty mankind refusing to learn, mighty species destined to burn.' https://t.co/xX10RMtVIS
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'The ancient rites bore little resemblance to reality anymore. The world was changing all about, and the runes and sigils no longer summoned the spirits, no longer bore answers to guide them in their time of troubles. Still, there was little else to do but continue the rituals.' https://t.co/fN3XE7u3WB
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'Wild spirits of yesterday, sweet specters of land and ley, of glens and dells that do not decay, would you come out to play today? There was once wonder where now there is wood, there now is city where nature once stood. Please just be aslumber, of spirits of wild wonder….' https://t.co/YDY3Gb07b8
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'The timing of the tides is the rhythm of the oceans, seeming syncopation of swell and surf crash in cacophony breaking upon beaches, measuring the moments the moon makes its mark upon the surface of the seas. As regular as the turning of the skies and the rotation of the stars.' https://t.co/j0zrhnf4BU
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'Fool to the wise or wise among fools, few could tell the nature of the new messiah. He embraced all faiths, at least a little bit, just enough to appeal to their flocks. He spoke peace when he was powerless, less when his following grew. He spoke nonsense, but they listened.' https://t.co/tJujTVDKmM
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'A bright beacon upon the banks, guiding ships with little thanks, built by those who ply the shores to save ships from crashing by scores. Oh flaming pharos amidst the waves, lonely shepherd for those it saves, aiding with but light to cast, a signal of civilization at last.' https://t.co/0Bl4gPaJnq
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'She stood there, staring in silent, stark terror at the sight. The runestones were glowing, but this did not startle her, as they always glowed this color in the winter. No, it was the sprouting of the dark red leaves upon the tree that had always been dead that scared her now.' https://t.co/3bAuJxHqDM
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'Behold, mere mortal, craven creature of the living realm, behold your guide to the hereafter! It dares you to flee, knowing you will not. It dares you to tremble, knowing you can do little else. Follow this specter to what awaits you, but expect no mercy from your escort.' https://t.co/gVBykhCTay
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'He could barely see from under his treasured helm. It had taken him years of training and more years of hunting to attain the trophy and now he wore it wherever he went, whomever he fought, even if it got in the way. It was his first real kill as a hero, and he wore it proudly.' https://t.co/bPS9smsxaN
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 25, 2020
'Ancient dells and glens afar
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
seldom care from whence ye are
they'll receive ye just as well
when you've no more tales to tell.
Death awaits all who breathe,
matters not ye writhe or seethe,
when it is your time to die,
You'll have no pause to whine or cry.' https://t.co/f9mxehhUHY
'The isle of the tree had been there longer than any kingdom known to scholars, longer than man had known this land at all. The island stood in the middle of the bay, alone and untouched out of respect for the spirits. There was only the one tree, reborn from time to time.' https://t.co/4EHnXt9p53
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'Is this all there is to life? Scramble, struggle, suffer, subsist, survive, succor, succeed, support another round of our own kind to rise and repeat it all again, forever and ever hereafter? Surely there must be something else, anything else than this endless toil to life…' https://t.co/TTPMh3ZHbo
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'Another world made from the mists, another spinning sphere in space, another in an endless array of energy and matter scattered through the firmaments, each unique but still so much alike. Still the god did not bore of the work, more a mindless tick than a task, an instinct…' https://t.co/Ougu7WsyK6
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'The bridge of the gods was a wonder to behold, and the center of so many stories told of local legends and their patron deities, each grander than the last. But each tale had to account for the span of space that was not there, absent like all the gods who allegedly created it.' https://t.co/s5sxAwz2aL
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'The symphony of the sky and sea, conducted each day from dawn to dusk, was set to the staccato cadence of surf on shore, each crest a crescendo, every crash upon the cliffs a climax, accompanied as always by the squawk and squall of the tremulous terns and glutenous gulls.' https://t.co/D8Yyo8i7sZ
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'So many crosses upon the hill, some to save, some to kill. So many markers of mortal men, so many lives lost once again, lain down in the name of their lord, how many deaths can one god afford? So many lifetimes thrown away, so few few survivors left to stay.' https://t.co/fHFRfHYeBd
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'Hope springs anew in the land of the repressed, in the land of past prosperity and dying dreams. For far too long have they suffered under the growing cloud of fear and fiery fanaticism, as those they once knew as friends turned to foes. But now at long last, hope has returned.' https://t.co/GiVNOfZtnN
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'We wonder at the whispers in the woods each night, the scratches and screeches that shatter the stillness filling the forest with fear. The stranger startles, but those that dwell within the dells just stoke their fires and shutter their windows against the scary sounds.' https://t.co/usn3beq1vw
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'Red sky at night, all sailors delight. Red sky in morning, the same take warning. Should red moon bleed, all mages take heed, should skies shake and tremble, all wizards assemble. Green gasses greet, abandon square and street, Green skies muster, undead soon cluster.' https://t.co/0Um7yGLpqN
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'When withers the world tree, wonder not the cause of the corruption. When decays and dies the lofty leaves of life, ponder not the poison nor the polluter. When the shade is shattered and the branches break, believe it could have been averted, that it is only us to blame.' https://t.co/3t3EHRjX0X
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'It is not mobile motes of dust or dander that captures the concentration of cats. They do not hunt and stalk the mundane shadows we can see, but rather the spectral sprites that only their keen eyes can perceive. They guard us from the crafty creatures we cannot comprehend.' https://t.co/w8OV03N74X
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'The sun slew the shadows but briefly each spring season, slicing through the shade in the stone corridors her ancestors had carved into cliffs so long ago. But the beauty of the sculptors craft was not in her thoughts today. No, all that concerned her was the daylight dance.' https://t.co/1rN1yi4jAk
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'Destined to die, cast out from home and comfort, exiled into the wilds it had never known by an uncaring master who had lost all interest and affection in the loyal creature. It had shown love and been rewarded with scorn and selfishness. The world did not deserve this dog.' https://t.co/nmJ7uLBpyt
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'It had not taken long to seek out the graves of the gods, to find where the ancients in their victorious moment of freedom had chained their old masters in the eternal bogs beyond the bay. It was too easy to find one which would offer power for liberation to any fool who asked.' https://t.co/zxjzmBsAsc
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 24, 2020
'The spine of the world, or so the mountains were named, stretched from the seas in the north to the sands in the south. Few but the savages and the creatures of the snows lived there. The bones of the many who had once called these peaks home rested upon the spine of the world.' https://t.co/TrLS4MrhLq
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020
'Beyond the steps, just a few short strides away from the world she had always known, the world that was all too familiar, stood the shattered stones of the door to eternity. Dormant since its destruction in the darkest days of her world, it stood as a promise of another world.' https://t.co/AnXrzGLHwU
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020
'There was a point, an advent, beyond which humans went from the worst wasters to the most efficient of lifeforms. It was a step just before catastrophe, a step just beyond the worse of days, when we harnessed energy at the subatomic, at the quantum level and never needed again.' https://t.co/4UluFjTpaS
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020
'Life gave the most refreshing wash, the deepest cleansing, of any substance a god could add to the waters. Life was rare, so millions of stars were poured forth and extinguished to supply sufficient substance to the suds, to invigorate the eternal entity for another epoch.' https://t.co/tWXUJU4d3J
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020
'In early times, when there were those who still remembered why the tower was built, many looked to the tower up on the mountain for inspiration, for aspiration, and for hope…. https://t.co/emshgd5b0c
— Duncan Wilson (@MrDuncanWilson) November 23, 2020
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