Thursday, January 7, 2010

The Announcement

It's only been a month. That's soon. Shut up.

Anyway, the announcement is this: The story of Samael is being semi-permanently shelved. However, the shiny, new, rebooted Epic Tale starts next Wednesday and continues weekly at So if you like what I've done here, and wish I could do it regularly, this is the news you've been waiting for.

An Epic Tale - 20. Fragments

This is all of my tale I can remember. Wisps and shadows cling to my mind, alarming me with persistence, torturing me with hope. I cannot give them form, substance. All I recall are Miru's bewitching eyes, her beckoning hand.

And then nothing. Something has happened. I must be - what?

How many times have I played through the events? How often have I wondered if I am awake, or alive, at all? Where is Lucifer? Where am I? What am I?

I can't seem to find myself. My soul is just out of reach, behind a veil of existence. If I could only remember - only tell how long I've been trapped inside my own mind. But even this knowledge is lost to me.

This is my life now. A puzzle with every piece missing. Was I ever Samael? Or Jerek? Did I finally kill the Hermit, or was the one who did this to me?

I may never know. Beyond a terrible, guilty feeling that I am responsible for something truly horrific, and the story I've told you, I have nothing left of myself.

I do, however, have one more story.

I doubt this story is mine. Where all of myself is vague, these events are as crisp and sure as their subject. Is he a figment of my imagination? A relic of my past? Or is he my future? Dare I hope - my redemption?

All I can do is watch, and wait.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Announcement Coming Soon

Regarding the future of this blog.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

An Epic Tale - 19. Waiting

It was Miru's wish that I meet her father, but the servants told us he could not be disturbed.

"Important business, I'm sure," Miru told me, with a particularly intoxicating dimpled smile. "We shall see him tomorrow."

But the next day I did not meet Miru's father, nor again the day after that. After some weeks it occurred to me to wonder if there was a master of the house at all.

Not that I had much time for idle thoughts. Every morning I was dragged from my bed by an elderly domestic called Mildred, who bathed and dressed me despite my most vigorous protestations. I was then rushed off to Miru, who with a look dissolved any lingering resentment. She took my hand and we breakfasted together. Then she would always gasp, realizing there was some new part of the house she had to show me.

Not that I trusted her. I was not that naive. Still, what harm could it do to follow? I had so much power. If I had to, I could kill her with a thought.

But I didn't want to. Even Lucifer had to admit, her home was fascinating. For the first week, whenever Miru showed me something new, he drew a map behind my eyes, keeping everything straight so I would know if I had to escape. He stopped when he realized the layout was impossible - some rooms would have to occupy three or four places at once.

"We should run," he whispered darkly. But I didn't run.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

A Prayer

Today is my day. This moment is my moment. I can make of this day whatever I choose. All roads ahead are open to me. I will take advantage of this moment to get me closer to my dreams. I will act with integrity, purpose, and thought. I will not allow myself to be defined by others, nor force another to be defined by me. My thoughts are my own. My will is my own. My heart is my own. So it has always been. So it shall always be.

Updates coming soon, hopefully.

An Epic Tale - 18. Vision

She took my hand, and I was in another place.

It was dark. It was cold. A full moon was hanging over the sky. In the distance, I could hear someone shouting. Someone laughing. Someone crying.

Then I was gone, and there was a city. I saw men tearing great stones out of the earth, and buildings grow up from them. Then the men were dead, and the buildings were being torn down. I saw ghoulish monsters pluck babies from their cradles, and dash their brains out on the street.

The sun set, and I knew it would never rise again.

"Are you all right?"

The girl - Miru - was staring down at me. I must have fallen. Her hair hung about her face. She looked at me with a certain curiosity - less concerned than confused.

"I'm fine," I said. I took her hand and she pulled me to my feet. "What happened?"

"You fell," she said. "But then you got up."

"And now I'm fine," I agreed.

Was she actually afraid of me?

"She should be," whispered the voice in my head. "That was a powerful curse she laid on you. You're lucky I still find it useful to have you around."

I opened my mouth. Then I closed it again. It serves me right, I thought. Trusting girls only leads to trouble.

"Too true," said Lucifer. And for the first time I did not doubt his sincerity.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

An Epic Tale - 17. The Threshold

When the answer came, it was not, as I expected, some aged caretaker or hired domestic servant. It was a girl. A very pretty girl, in fact. A little younger than me, with black curls that framed her face just so. She looked me up and down, and I felt a rush of old, familiar anxiety - something I'd thought I had lost.

"Spare me," the voice said, and at once a bitter coldness pushed my feeling aside. I looked the girl in the eyes.

"Whose house is this?" I demanded. "I have traveled long and far, and I would speak to the master."

In her face, I saw a flicker of .. something. Was it anger? Curiosity? Excitement? Not that it mattered. I was hard as stone. Indifferent.

"This is Master Rohn's house," she said. "My name is Miru Rohn. May I ask where you come from?"

"You may call me Samael," I said, "and I come from -"

I stopped. My throat constricted. I could not get the words to escape my lips. Something was binding me, restraining my will by controlling my body.

"From where?" the girl asked. I strained with all my might, railing against the invisible barrier that kept me silently staring. In my mind I was screaming. Riverbed, Riverbend! I come from Riverbend! Yet the words remained locked away behind my eyes.

"Rage if you must," the voice whispered, "but in this much I can control you. Your strength would be better spent elsewhere."

"It does not matter where I come from," I said slowly. "I have left it behind me for good. Now I am here to ask for hospitality."

"Let me take you to my father." There was that spark again - the creeping edge of a smile. "He will know what to do."