cieli

One of the more ornate bedrooms of Northlake stood quiet, at least for the moment. It had the signs of being recently inhabited, with an atraves leaning in a corner next to a slightly burned set of armor, and a pile of clothing not far from that. The early morning sun shining through the windows...

A Question for Another Day It was on a cool, early March evening, that Cieli found herself struck with a certain thought. She was making her way back to her house after a day of work, and as such, was in no particular rush. Her thoughts had been going through their usual routine; what she would...

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ [Notices were posted around the borders of Petal Court, the nearby park and surrounding woodlands. Each one grafted into wood through the powers of wood singing] In light of the Primalist's recent proclaimation, the Syloan'thar Circle wishes to make clear...

Once upon a time, the nightmares had more substance to them. They might have not been obvious, no, but there was more to them than there was now. There would be the purple lightning, monstrous versions of her friends, or leering, hateful beings that she could not describe. Somehow, though, that...

An Altalar's Morning Constitutional For as long as Cieli could remember, her mornings had almost always started the same way. The only exception had started with the sound of feet on her roof at an unholy hour, and led to her stumbling to Greygate in her pajamas with mismatched boots on...

It was three weeks spent away from Regalia and all of its chaos, as Cieli had enough of the city. The bruised and battered Est’alorn put a halt on the things requiring her attention, packed her bags, and returned to her homeland of Unta’alsur. Her first week home was spent recovering. She...

From her perch in the rented wagon, Cieli could see nothing but grass. It reached over the simple dirt road, brushing the edges of their transport. Her and her company, a yet unnamed group of mercenaries, were on their way back to the stone towers of Unta’aslur after a successful job. The object...

Memories are strange things. Some stick with you, forever imprinted in your mind like a brand. But there are others, fleeting things that quickly pass into oblivion. But to most, memories are things that remain to oneself. Personal things, that can only be shared through stories. But to others...

It was a rainy night sometime in mid-winter, during one of those murky hours in between midnight and dawn. A little Altalar lay contorted around her father's leg, her face pressed into the rough canvas of his pants. She slept peacefully in the supposed security of her family's apartment. True...