In the heart of a sacred grove, where ancient trees whisper secrets to the moon, the Raven Child stirred from her slumber. The ethereal light of Mother Moon cast a spell over the fields, painting ghostly shades on the trail leading to another realm. It was a night of transformation, where the boundaries between worlds grew thin, and magic flowed like a hidden river.
Elara, known to many as the Raven Child, stood at the edge of this mystical grove, her eyes reflecting the moon's silvery glow. The ravens, her eternal companions, fluttered around her, their dark feathers shimmering with an otherworldly light. The castle loomed in the distance, overlooking a valley that held all the love she had ever known and all the fear she had ever faced.
"Cold is the wind," she whispered, feeling its bite against her skin, bringing forth a clarity she hadn't felt in ages. "Time rushes on, and nothing will remain."
The voices of the ravens echoed her thoughts, reminding her that there was no glory in the last journey home. But home was a concept that had always eluded her, a place lost in the mists of time and memory.
Looking down from her perch, she saw an ocean of white, an expanse that drowned out all the noise and decree of the world below. In this silence, she found solace, a brief respite from the crazed and empty eyes that haunted her waking hours. Wide-eyed, she let herself drift into the realm of imagination, dreaming of love and hope, even as she knew she must suffocate these dreams to endure.
The sky, vast and unending, seemed to crawl down the mound into the deadwood on the ground. Spectres flared and spat, rising to mingle with the skies, taking with them all that was never meant to be. Elara felt like a fire in the dark, a fool searching for a way to escape, never quite getting away. Was it love that glowed in fiery alignment? Or was she just a starry-eyed wanderer, living a lie, a lonely heart in an endless line?
The scent of spring and cherry blossoms, sweet and ephemeral, mingled with the rain's fresh aroma. They called to her, reminding her of a time when things were not as they seemed now, when the world held promise and wonder. Yet, she was compelled to stay behind the castle's crenel, a solitary figure in the tolling of the bell.
"Is there anyone to tell me what they want to say?" she mused, feeling the voices go on and on, their tongues failing to permeate her soul. In her altered state of mind, she chased the light in vain, a master in his frown, a denial of the crown of creation.
The wind rustled through the crowns of the willows, a light breeze that spoke of green fields and the day waning to perfection. It was a backdrop for a diamond, a scene of serenity that belied the chaos within her heart. She swayed in the wind like the willow, meant to give way to the storm's order, knowing she would not leave a mold in the marsh of ages, a tired chevalier of fortune.
As the sky once blue and serene swanned on the magic of the unborn stream of destiny, time flowed into a mound of nothing for the broken soldier of fortune. Elara felt herself coming down, going all the way now, knowing she wouldn't get away, knowing the way was finally shown.
"In the light, there's a crack torn open," she whispered, "from underneath the day." The light, though cracked, was growing, even as the dark rolled in her way. She felt the light look away, its brilliance blinding her, igniting her spirit to fly.
"Uncloak the raven master," she sang, feeling the beat of her mind awaken. She tucked herself away inside, riding the inmost light, her soul glowing opal-blue. A million voices faded away, their meanings lost, her words never getting through.
"Oh, you sail to the night's Plutonian shore," she chanted, "you drift to sleep, you can't take no more of this." Like a raven child, she spread her paltry wings and threw herself into the wind, escaping all below that despised her. Was she awake, or was it an evil dream, an ugly in-between? Like a weak hermaphrodite, a burning soul in unimpaired parts, she quested for light, but it was the dark that embraced her.
A cloak of invisibility curtained her fate of deformity. "Darkness, let me in," she cried, heading off to the night's Plutonian shore. She dreamed and hoped she wouldn't wake no more to this, her fiery eyes glowing as the raven child, flying to escape all below.
In the light of a crack torn open, Elara felt the dark rolling in her way. She knew she would never get away, but finally, the way was shown. She was going now, into the light, into the destiny that awaited her, a fire in the dark, a raven child soaring into the unknown.
Elara, known to many as the Raven Child, stood at the edge of this mystical grove, her eyes reflecting the moon's silvery glow. The ravens, her eternal companions, fluttered around her, their dark feathers shimmering with an otherworldly light. The castle loomed in the distance, overlooking a valley that held all the love she had ever known and all the fear she had ever faced.
"Cold is the wind," she whispered, feeling its bite against her skin, bringing forth a clarity she hadn't felt in ages. "Time rushes on, and nothing will remain."
The voices of the ravens echoed her thoughts, reminding her that there was no glory in the last journey home. But home was a concept that had always eluded her, a place lost in the mists of time and memory.
Looking down from her perch, she saw an ocean of white, an expanse that drowned out all the noise and decree of the world below. In this silence, she found solace, a brief respite from the crazed and empty eyes that haunted her waking hours. Wide-eyed, she let herself drift into the realm of imagination, dreaming of love and hope, even as she knew she must suffocate these dreams to endure.
The sky, vast and unending, seemed to crawl down the mound into the deadwood on the ground. Spectres flared and spat, rising to mingle with the skies, taking with them all that was never meant to be. Elara felt like a fire in the dark, a fool searching for a way to escape, never quite getting away. Was it love that glowed in fiery alignment? Or was she just a starry-eyed wanderer, living a lie, a lonely heart in an endless line?
The scent of spring and cherry blossoms, sweet and ephemeral, mingled with the rain's fresh aroma. They called to her, reminding her of a time when things were not as they seemed now, when the world held promise and wonder. Yet, she was compelled to stay behind the castle's crenel, a solitary figure in the tolling of the bell.
"Is there anyone to tell me what they want to say?" she mused, feeling the voices go on and on, their tongues failing to permeate her soul. In her altered state of mind, she chased the light in vain, a master in his frown, a denial of the crown of creation.
The wind rustled through the crowns of the willows, a light breeze that spoke of green fields and the day waning to perfection. It was a backdrop for a diamond, a scene of serenity that belied the chaos within her heart. She swayed in the wind like the willow, meant to give way to the storm's order, knowing she would not leave a mold in the marsh of ages, a tired chevalier of fortune.
As the sky once blue and serene swanned on the magic of the unborn stream of destiny, time flowed into a mound of nothing for the broken soldier of fortune. Elara felt herself coming down, going all the way now, knowing she wouldn't get away, knowing the way was finally shown.
"In the light, there's a crack torn open," she whispered, "from underneath the day." The light, though cracked, was growing, even as the dark rolled in her way. She felt the light look away, its brilliance blinding her, igniting her spirit to fly.
"Uncloak the raven master," she sang, feeling the beat of her mind awaken. She tucked herself away inside, riding the inmost light, her soul glowing opal-blue. A million voices faded away, their meanings lost, her words never getting through.
"Oh, you sail to the night's Plutonian shore," she chanted, "you drift to sleep, you can't take no more of this." Like a raven child, she spread her paltry wings and threw herself into the wind, escaping all below that despised her. Was she awake, or was it an evil dream, an ugly in-between? Like a weak hermaphrodite, a burning soul in unimpaired parts, she quested for light, but it was the dark that embraced her.
A cloak of invisibility curtained her fate of deformity. "Darkness, let me in," she cried, heading off to the night's Plutonian shore. She dreamed and hoped she wouldn't wake no more to this, her fiery eyes glowing as the raven child, flying to escape all below.
In the light of a crack torn open, Elara felt the dark rolling in her way. She knew she would never get away, but finally, the way was shown. She was going now, into the light, into the destiny that awaited her, a fire in the dark, a raven child soaring into the unknown.