Time. The line of everlasting existence through events and history? Or was it something more? Fact was, time was not something that could truthfully be explained by anyone. It was infinite. Just like the mysteries it held deep within its roots. Many thought of time as a way to recognize the present...Others believed it to be so much more. A force beyond comprehension doing its work unintentionally and perfectly all at once. The stubborn existence of organization that held the past within a seal. The bringer of the future and the giver of the present. Some believed time to be a god all itself, invisible to the naked eye and unheard through religion. It very well could have been. When phrases are shouted out like ‘we are out of time!’ or ‘Times up.’ To some they are just phrases, to others they are tribute to the all mighty god of time. Whoever it may be weather it was real or not. Or perhaps…for something to be real one must simply believe it to be real? Faith was a powerful substance in many cultures throughout history.
Consiting side by side with time was the gift of memories. A function of history stored within the subconscious of ones mind throughout the period of their lives. Of course…there were always memories better left forgotten. Despite the fact memories would always eventually be forgotten in the downward spiral called time. The memories of the past, of those before us. Never told from the beholder but often from the witness. Stories and legends passed down generation to generation but with each generation only losing more and more of the truth as the line between reality and fantasy grows ever so thinner. It was the same with the beings that traveled the world. Over time ones blood does not strengthen. It weakens. If one were to make a copy, of a copy, of a copy it would not come out stronger. But weaker. This has always been true. The memories that held the truth where lost…forgotten In time.
The new year had brought with it an early frost in the small town of Mala, burying the past temporarily beneath the thick layer of snow. The house was practically empty now...Akira had gone off to the barracks to train the newbies for guard duty, Lyko was out with his buddies. And Vergil was on trip outside the town... Everyone seemed busy except for him.looking out from the window violet eyes scanned the landscape. Darsha was surprised at how quickly things evolved. What once was will soon be again. Only a few months ago he was looking out of this very same window at a completely different world. The cycle of the seasons was almost as constant as the cycle of life and death...Darsha inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Large ears swiveling atop his head as the hollow home made its typical sounds...the creaking of the floorboards. The ticking of the clock, oh how that clock had deprived the fox hours of sleep...
Allowing his mind to wander for a moment as he walked down the stairway Darsha grabbed his thin silver framed glasses off the dresser before exiting his room and slipped them on. 'Ugg, im going to be late again." He whispered in irritation. Seemed he was not going to make it to his initiation... being home schooled felt more useful to him since Akira did such a good job making sure he was well prepared for the world around him. But all these damn wizard schools seemed like it was such a pain to the young fox after observing others go through it. He felt as if it was just a waste of his time, all they taught where things that would never be of use to his life. Heck the only reason he was going in the first place was because Akira had wanted him to get out more and make some friends. So here he was, work. Walking into the living room he grabbed his black jacket with a fur rimmed collar and headed for the door. The leather brushed gently against his back, causing the fox to purr lightly.
"On second thought..." He whispered. "Maybe some breakfast before i go..." Recoiling and walking into the kitchen quickly the fox began to look through cabinets and drawers for something to snack on for his trip to the market. Sighing deeply he shrugged after realizing everything they had needed to be cooked...deciding not to waste any more time then what he already had he just grabbed a small loaf of bread and grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves off the table. Stuffing the bread into his muzzle and opening the door he walked out and flinched as the bitter cold weather greeted him. Shutting and locking the door Darsha slipped on his gloves and then took a bite of bread.
Keeping his walking stick firmly on his arm he limped to the market while eating his bread. Large ears twisted atop his head and a long bushy tail swayed behind him gently.
Consiting side by side with time was the gift of memories. A function of history stored within the subconscious of ones mind throughout the period of their lives. Of course…there were always memories better left forgotten. Despite the fact memories would always eventually be forgotten in the downward spiral called time. The memories of the past, of those before us. Never told from the beholder but often from the witness. Stories and legends passed down generation to generation but with each generation only losing more and more of the truth as the line between reality and fantasy grows ever so thinner. It was the same with the beings that traveled the world. Over time ones blood does not strengthen. It weakens. If one were to make a copy, of a copy, of a copy it would not come out stronger. But weaker. This has always been true. The memories that held the truth where lost…forgotten In time.
The new year had brought with it an early frost in the small town of Mala, burying the past temporarily beneath the thick layer of snow. The house was practically empty now...Akira had gone off to the barracks to train the newbies for guard duty, Lyko was out with his buddies. And Vergil was on trip outside the town... Everyone seemed busy except for him.looking out from the window violet eyes scanned the landscape. Darsha was surprised at how quickly things evolved. What once was will soon be again. Only a few months ago he was looking out of this very same window at a completely different world. The cycle of the seasons was almost as constant as the cycle of life and death...Darsha inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Large ears swiveling atop his head as the hollow home made its typical sounds...the creaking of the floorboards. The ticking of the clock, oh how that clock had deprived the fox hours of sleep...
Allowing his mind to wander for a moment as he walked down the stairway Darsha grabbed his thin silver framed glasses off the dresser before exiting his room and slipped them on. 'Ugg, im going to be late again." He whispered in irritation. Seemed he was not going to make it to his initiation... being home schooled felt more useful to him since Akira did such a good job making sure he was well prepared for the world around him. But all these damn wizard schools seemed like it was such a pain to the young fox after observing others go through it. He felt as if it was just a waste of his time, all they taught where things that would never be of use to his life. Heck the only reason he was going in the first place was because Akira had wanted him to get out more and make some friends. So here he was, work. Walking into the living room he grabbed his black jacket with a fur rimmed collar and headed for the door. The leather brushed gently against his back, causing the fox to purr lightly.
"On second thought..." He whispered. "Maybe some breakfast before i go..." Recoiling and walking into the kitchen quickly the fox began to look through cabinets and drawers for something to snack on for his trip to the market. Sighing deeply he shrugged after realizing everything they had needed to be cooked...deciding not to waste any more time then what he already had he just grabbed a small loaf of bread and grabbed a pair of fingerless gloves off the table. Stuffing the bread into his muzzle and opening the door he walked out and flinched as the bitter cold weather greeted him. Shutting and locking the door Darsha slipped on his gloves and then took a bite of bread.
Keeping his walking stick firmly on his arm he limped to the market while eating his bread. Large ears twisted atop his head and a long bushy tail swayed behind him gently.
Last edited by Darsha Vi Providence on 19th May 2014, 6:18 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Settings)
