A random dream I had that I decided to put down
In the land of Yaskland there was a simple philosphy: "Be therefore perfect as our king is perfect." The mask we hide behind is golden and pretty to the invisible host that stand there at the ball. Pretty lavish dresses dance across the stage all we do is looke through the other. Only a few stand there in plain colored mask and beautiful flawless faces with plain dresses. Ugliest of them all, rejected by them all.
The only thing we can do is look at the bright sun hoping for a light of hope, the golden rays that would made Midas jealous. Rays that tickle your face and make even cold stone hearts smile for joy once in a while.
For only few begin at the beginning and make it to the end of their story.
((To be continued... Seeing it's not finished yet))A young man stood in front of a lake, his hair in dirt brown culds and his sand colored skin caused stares from many a regular men to stare. The man's leaf green eyes felt a tinge of the silver gray lake pierce his eyes with the pillar of sadness seeing all the probablilites of their thoughts. He looked at his golden brown tatters of a shirt and silver gray shreds of pants. He looked into the water his arms just touching across the water quietly. At first he could only see himself, his face covered in the filth of yesterday, his hair sculpted on his head with pieces of grass sticking from one place or another.
The water glittered like a sun resting on the water and the young man blinked the pillar out of his eyes, and his mask was taken off for a great deal of surprise. He poked at the water as it suddenly changed from his reflection to a reflection of a beautiful girl. Her eyes as looked like a cloudy day, her dress as white as the clouds above and her hair reflecting the golden rays of the sun. The silknessof her looked like the raindrops on a rainy day as they glittered to a rainbow.
She saw him and they stared at each other for a second. The young man exclaimed in his deep earthy voice, while the girl spoke in her rain-kissed voice, "You can see me?"
The young man touched the water but didn't go through any potal, he just got a hand full of seaweed. He looked at her and asked, "Very odd to be trapped in a lake don't you think?"
"I'm not trapped in a lake. Sure in this mirror world, where I'm beat and tortured, but my aunt trapped me to rule my real world."
He looked at her and felt this sudden urge to beat someone across the face. He looked at her and asked, "Who are you?" She looked at him and said, "Um... Princess Laelia of the Fairy nation." The young man was stunned, his face had just seen a ghost as he could barely keep his heart pumping at a normal pace. She was a fairy, a very pretty fairy. He then felt his heart sank, he couldn't be hers, maybe her hero but not her love. Fairies, they just weren't that big.
The young man said, "I am Loren Blacksmith! I shall do what it takes to defeat you're aunt... um... you got a good picture of her in there by any chance?" He felt really lost, his plans were forming in his head, but he had no idea who anyone was for that matter. He was an absoulte loner in the country and in his own family he was considered queer or a black sheep. He scrathced his head and looked at her as she scrumaged through her few but precious items.
She pulled out a paper and piece of charcoal and while the drawing was astounding the subject looked terrifying apparently no one said anything about a pure blood witch with warts and all. She said, "Can.... see... it?"
The wind blew harder and harder in the area and he suddenly saw the actually women her self, the witch. She cackled, "Well, well. How is Loren Blacksmith going to do anything when he's a pathetic little fool? Can't even get anyone to care for his existence is that right Edwardo." A little cat appeared, suddenly it turned into a dark shadow beast with large black wings and the countance of a pure black wild cat. It had eyes that echoed bright blood eyes that looked like it was ready to kill Loren.
Loren held his breath and felt the urge to die and kill himself at that moment. Suddenly he saw his shadow and jumped up looking still at the beast. The witch cackled and her crazy black frizz split in front by a dark silver as she cackled, "Dear, you are no match to me. Laelia, is never leaving her spot. As long as I am Yolenda of the Dark." Loren quivered in his steps and dug his heels in the ground and backed up quickly not looking in the water.
Everyone knew the name of Yolenda the Dark. She was a devil-possessed human that did not have any heart, she was known to grab children with her creatures of the night. She went on and forward her heard in a miserable shape and would slice women from the womb to the bosom. She would cut the gentials of a male and throw it to her beast and then cut the brain out sticking it in her potions. Eyes were thrown into her swamp where a creature of millions of eyes laid watching to see their next victim.
Loren shivered just thinking about it, his arms wrapped around his chilled body and stood up getting ready for what may had been doom. He knew that he couldn't just let his fear get the best of him, there was a princess in trouble and it had always been his dream to save a princess from a fire-breathing dragon and ask to climb up and save them from the clutches of evil villians. Yolenda did fit the defintion of a villian, but she was the worse kind of enemy to have. It could have at least been easier if he hadn't been caught up in this decision.
He marched to his house grabbed his stuff and waved goodbye. His family didn't care much they had other sons to help support their family and give them the food and shelter they needed to survive. He pulled out his wooden pole and a rag covered in a clear, sticky buffer. No one normally dared to enter the dark forest around them because it generally meant that you were going to write your name in the devil's book. He knew that wasn't completely true, though one was to be afraid of dark creatures that did lurk the forest.
Large scaly, ebony, cold-hearted ebony dragons with shiney scales and the claws that wouldn't mind piercing your mind and torturing your brain until you rotted to death. Pixies that would hope around with their poison spears the size of your pointer finger and kill you to later drink every drop of blood like vampyres and half-wolf men did as they wandered around ready to use your blood and their magic to help steal your magic. Besides that there was nothing else for the young man to be afraid of.
Loren shivered and looked at his stick now wondering how he was even going to survive. Sure he knew how to use his stick sucessfully and he could kill a lion with it most likely, but he didn't know how to fight and pierce the skin of strong-shelled beast and save his own soft skin.
He then thought about the shadow beast, his skin wanted to crawl out of his skin. He looked at the shadow and saw it beging to move. He turned around and whacked the person, it was a thief? Loren picked up his stick and was still a bit in a pit of a paranoia as he began to examine the thief up close and personal. The man had slick blonde hair and tan skin with pointy ears. Loren looked at the pointy ears for a really long time and then jumped, he just hit an elf. That was considered pure bad luck, a giant taboo. He stopped himself from panicking overboard and simply began to look for his smelly salts. He pulled out a green one and the elf woke up saying, "Woh, man, you gotta watch where you push that aroma around dude." Loren looked at him, what was a "dude"?
The elf confused him greatly. The elf began looking at his face and cracked up laughing. He explained, "Man, a dude is a man! You don't know slang much do'ya dude?" He then rubbed his face, he was laughing so hard that it seem his head would pop off and blow off laughing gas. The elf took a deep breath and pulled out his hand up in what seemed like a frozen wave shouting, "High-five dude!" Loren was still giving him a look of dazed confusion. The man helped him responding, "Dude, you hit my hand with your hand."
"Oh." Loren said hitting his hand, this elf was so confusing. What was slang? Why did he do a high-five? Was this part of his punishment for hitting the elf with a stick? Get an elf with a crazy brain? Loren looked at him saying, "Um... I wish to apologize about hitting you on the head."
The possessed thing laughed and his eyes glittered oceanic blue. He shouted, "Dude, don't worry it happens all the time!"
Loren looked at the elf and just stared at man and said, "I'm sorry, I was just paniked quite much. I have a bit of a problem I need to fix..." Loren was thinking about Yolanda of the Dark and thinking about a shadow creature ready to tear his heart out of his chest and hop around happy and giddy. Loren shrunk down in fear and the elf patted his back harshly saying, "Yolanda is a very scary witch, but her head is filled with enough hot air to make her ass feel jealous." Loren looked at him and just laughed because he sounded so ridiculous, was he talking about the passing of gas through the stomach?