.... "I shall tell you the tale of the Madien-Eater", she told him, and began. The tale was a long one, about a kingdom besieged by a dragon and the king's daughter who slew it and the young hero who helped her. The vampyre laughed outright when she came to describing the wyrm. "Big as a cottage?" he cried at last. "With wings? It is evident that you have never seen a firedrake. The are twenty and thirty times so large, and the certaintly cannot fly, though they swim. Incedentally, they do not spit brimstone; they breathe sulfur and flame." The icarus folded his arms and leaned back, looking down on her, his lips curled in contempt. "No mere mortal could have killed one singlehanded." "Her sword was magic," said Aeriel. "The dragon would have killed them both long before she could have used it." Aeriel looked at the ground. "You have seen dragons, my lord." "Oh yes. My mother keeps a pair as pets." Aeriel looked at him. "Your mother?" she said. The word sounded strange from his tongue. His lips twisted again into a smile. "I do have a mother," he said. "How do you suppose I came to be?" His tone was amused and had no kindness to it. Aeriel dropped her eyes and mumbled something. The icarus pursed his lips a moment, and his look grew farther away. "She is very beautiful, my mother." Aeriel let another moment go by before she spoke. "What is her name?" she ventured at last. "And how would I know that?" replied the vampyre, affronted. "Great personages such as she do not hand out their names so freely." "But you are her son," insisted Aeriel, softly. The vampyre looked suddenly away, and for the first time his cool assurance flagged. "She will tell me...," he began. "She has promised to tell me--when I come of age." "And is she...like you?" asked Aeriel, wondering what sort of being mothered vampyres. His hesitation suprised her. "You mean a wingèd icarus?" he asked, regaining himself, and flexing his coal-dark feathers. They rustled like fine, stiff silk. "No, she prefers water to air. She is a lorelei." "And she keeps dragons." "Yes." A moments silence followed as the darkangel settled his wings. When he spoke, it was with no trace of his former faltering. "But hers do not eat madiens. They eat ships." He laughed again, that same cruel and careless laugh. "Ah, me, that was a silly tale you told, but amusing enoug. Tell me another."
The Murmurs of the Soul
See, like i said, my sad sad page was going nowhere, so I decided to take drastic action to try and save its pathetic existance. IVE SEEN THE LIGHT! Lets face it, I simply do not have the time to put into form the visions of greatness i had imagined *~L~ yeah RIGHT!=P* for this page all those months ago. You know what? I really dont care =p This is my page, and if you dont like it well than you can go....TO ANOTHER ONE! This page is about who I am and what is important to me, not just the same old mundane mechanistic buzz of what has been done before and how it could be better! Oh no no my dear friends, this page is about the world that is etched upon our hearts ; the world we cant live without. Yeah ~ this is it through my eyes.
Thru the Empty Space
My Blue Heaven: Smashing Pumpkins
The Choirgirl Hotel: My Girl Tori Amos
How Can They Be So Sweet: Switchblade Symphony *Under Construction*
Ladies Cello Society: Rasputina *Under Construction*
Me : *If youre brave enough to Behold! The Night Mare*
MY GUESTLOG : PLLLEASSSSE sign it!
My Dearies:The Ones That I Adore
The Roselle Experience: Some Pics from the Roselle '98 Tour
Back to The Haven
