Rise of the Ice Kings: The Dream"Play for me, Brandhol." Rathiel begged upon the second evening of eldest brother’s short respite at home."Play your whistle again, please? It's been so long since you played!""That's because I've been gone so long, silly," he replied, digging out his tin whistle from an inner pocket of his thick cloak. After a few short trills to warm up his fingers, he began to play a song that seemed to grow and mature as it progressed. Rathiel grinned and began to dance a few bars into the seemingly light-hearted tune.The children's uncle, Hedhel, sent home from war on permanent furlough lay on the rug, dozing before the dying fire. At the sound of his nephew's playing, he bolted upright, staring wildly at Brandhol for a moment before calming slightly. "I think it's time that you find your bed, Rathiel," he said hoarsely.Silien looked up from her darning in surprise,"Goodness, child!" she exclaimed, "You should have been in bed almost an hour ago! Hurry and change now, I'll be along
The Final StrawJason Rathen almost ignored the gentle taping on his office door, thinking that the sound originated from further down the hall, but the hesitant sound came a second time, only slightly more audible. Rathen stood and opened the door to be greeted by the person that he least expected and most hoped to see. "Hello, Jessie!"Jessie nodded, worrying her lower lip in thinly veiled distress. "I... I'm sorry about practice, earlier," she said, rapidly forcing the words out. "Why don't you come in," Rathen suggested, gesturing towards the other chair in his prop- and book-stuffed office, "and we can talk about what happened earlier this afternoon, if you'd like." The suggestion was more of a mild order, but Jessie either didn't notice, or ignored it as she nodded and gingerly perched on the edge of the offered chair, grasping her books against her chest. Professor Rathen took his time in mostly closing the door, and resettling a stack of papers that had been distu
No LongerIt was too warm, the blankets of clouds too comfy for the sun to rise. We'd told ourselves he wouldn't be long, he'd be up soon. We've been telling ourselves that for three years. I, for one, am tired of lying. Because I dared to voice this one thought, this one collection of innocent words, I found myself instantly at odds with everyone whom I had once held in great esteem. Truly, I am a castaway in these swiftly dying lands- so close to home, and yet so utterly far away.They will not hear the truth, even when the world shouts it with every struggle for each new day. We have ravaged the lands that we should have cherished, and now we pay the price for our sheer stupidity. Poisoned ash coats the once fertile fields, soot lines our lungs, and the skies are filled with clouds that are colors that they never should be. The truth is so clear, and yet no one will name it for what it is, for fear of facing our inevitable fate, the cost of our indifference.No longer will I live this l
The AwakeningI’ve been set loose; drifting in search of my lost self. The words only began to hint at the hopelessness that surrounded the young girl. Things hadn’t always been this way, Calricia knew, but even that memory was fading. At first, the staff were gentle with the frail child, not quite nurturing, but taking enough time to notice her and to ensure that she felt some form of support. There was a regular routine, and every person there had a part in it’s ebb and flow throughout the day. The orphaned children wordlessly accepted their matching outfits of either all dull blue or all dull back- orphans didn’t wear (the unspoken thought lingered that they didn’t deserve to wear) colors- from a heap of such articles. After dressing, each child resumed their occupation of their place against a wall on the floor. For a short, comforting time, the staff member who regularly adjusted the unmarked bank of switches near Calricia’s unofficially assigned
Mountain KingsIn the valley of the mountain-kingsWhere the winds blow ever fierceAnd the sky remains ever clearWhere the birds cry their songs to the heavensThe realms unknown to all.In this haven peace reigns ever freeSave for when the kings of oldMake their presence knownAmong the woodlands and the streams.Then does strife rear its headAnd war come crashing downCitizens young and old alikeBand together as never before.In the the valley of the kingsRinged by mountains proudAnd winds blowing fierceThe kings of old wait.
Free Plushie Patterns OnlineHere's a collection of links to sites outside of DeviantArt where you can find free plushie patterns. There are well over two hundred choices, so you're sure to find something you like.Remember, if you can't find exactly what you're looking for, try adapting one of the patterns. For example, a tiger can easily be turned into a lion, an elephant into a wooly mammoth, an elf into a goblin, or combine the upper half of a mermaid with the lower half of a pony to get a centaur.BEARSNight Garden Studios Jointed and Rag BearsBaby Bows BearScrappy BearSupriseDIY BearHug Me (EMS Bear)