~Tell me









Ah, Iaurdagnire. What...has become of you? So distraught by unknown forces...which I cannot place names for. Darkness seeps from you...




Your condition ails with this unstable mind.
You say that I should share the library which has so disorganized itself on it's own.... to explain why....


You...


I....






I suppose one should start in their beginnings. Or rather...their most prominent memories. You must forgive me, sir... as I am not nearly the storyteller you are. Merely a riddler with a playground of words.





You probably wouldn't percieve this in the same way as I, but my memories read to me that I was once a human. A magician, no less. One of the most respected calibar, careful with the tricking of the mind and senses. Quick with his hands, careful with his words.

Why do you suppose my name is Silence?

Not only was it an adapted....stage name... but so it is also what I choose to be dubbed by here, in this endless foliage of life.
Obviously you'd most likely dub my mind insanity itself. A deer-like creature, once cast as a human?! Mad!


Perhaps it's merely those mushrooms which I am so addicted to! Clearly it rips all things known to me and casts them into the pits of hell!







But...one could say this is where this silly wordsmith's woes begin. So fine the memories, yet the dread they manage to wield brings jealousy and remorse to this fading mind.




If you'd understand... that this deer which stands before you is nothing but a madman lurking within a deer's body... you'd might envision equally what lingers in this shell.

I enjoy trickery. Magic. Creating wonder and messing with the mind in a whirlwind of second glances and misdeed.
I was known for this. It was why I became so pronounced in my art.








I wanted to transform into magic itself. And although I am a wise man, educated in many subjects, I longed to become something that I found impossible. And naturally, such lovely wonders which came from it would only lead to my ruin.

I believed...no...still don't believe in any existence of God, Gods, deities, higher powers, or anything of that sort. Naturally, whilst I still lingered as a man, well, one could say that these ideas were rather radical and sinful in their origin. So, naturally, my audience was never to know of this. Or anyone, for that matter.
It was unheard of to allow myself to share this.
So I would simply remain alone.






You probably don't understand the true emotions than can arise in such heated circumstance.
She thought herself merely an assistant to a magician, slowly gaining social status to mingle with the upper class.
Payed well when shows went flawless, denied a salary when something terrible ocured.
It was no different than any other of my many stagehands.
But of course, she was a bit different than them.




It wasn't until awhile after she began working that... we both could understand what was unraveling. We both shared our inner turmoils, whispering our ideas and opinions
about the world in which we lingered. We enjoyed each moment.
Every second.
Every slight passing of time.
The tint of roses always seemed to linger on her face, growing brighter when I grew closer.
Oh, how to control such delightful emotions within her!
But....she did the same to I as well.








I couldn't allow myself to ever remove my mask to the outside world.
It was what made me magic, and erasing it too would erase the persona I thought myself to be.
And I wouldn't let myself become human.
A human isn't wonder. It's merely a consequential beast.
There is nothing magical about that. And surely she would agree.
Magic is not made by a human.
It was made by a God.






A God.














She found out, about my opinion.
We were in love, no doubt of it. And in doing so, I proposed.
Esperanza accepted.
I told her that we wouldn't marry beneath a gold-painted bronze cross. Not in the presence of her god.
She became furious, and told her family.
The magician...no longer carried his magic.
But I would prove to her that I could be her God. I could control life just as easily as him.
I could control life.
My mind became mad.





So here I remain, Sir Iaurdagnire. But I can assure you there is nothing tragic about my tale. Nor can I say that it is it's entirety. Or even in it's truth.
Whether or not this man can distinguish this land from 'heaven' or 'hell', well, it remains a mystery unanswered.
This word smith, this riddler that you seem to know...seems all the more foreign, does he not?
All the more mad?
I would share more....but... even in this land so strange... it is hard to describe memories that I don't even know to be real in themselves.













Verycrazygirl's picture

Poor sod. <3 _____ The Noble

Poor sod. <3

Iaurdagnire's picture

This... is amazing beyond

This... is amazing beyond words. I never expected this. Poor Silence
Iaurdagnire will need tomorrow to digest his words.

<3

(Translation: I'm running out of time to reply tonight!)

Oohh, interesting. ~Paz main

Oohh, interesting.

~Paz
main deer: Amary, Melinoe, Sheen
Flyra's picture

Oh... oh wow... that was

Oh... oh wow... that was awesome...
You are such a great story teller, shimmy, and so is Silence... aww... I love reading those...

f l y r a b l o g avatar by tinkee, sig by Quamar
parrotsnpineapple's picture

Such beautiful writings.

Such beautiful writings.