[Cyrano]

username: s-simplicty
kalon name: Gylius Grew

part 1: the heat of daybreak

part 2: the streams of dawn(1 art piece or 500 words)

part 3: moonlight(1 art piece or 500 words)

[sobble]

i, am in love with them..
maybe a solitary toymaker?

and feel better soon pall!! I've jammed my wrist before and that was a pain so i could imagine how much it'd hurt to break it jhsbvhj

The fall //
Journey in the dark //
Home.

[doubledare]

username: doubledare
kalon name:

part 1: the pledge

part 2: the turn

part 3: the prestige

[priimary]

username: TeaRexx
kalon name:

part 1: Waxing

part 2: Full

part 3: Waning

res w/ a magical candlemaker

[Ucanthandleme]

username: Ucanthandleme
kalon name: Alvah

part 1:

A child's world

Pristine and untouched. She looked down at the small child, rosy cheeks, sunflower blonde hair and two light grey eyes filled with light and excitement. A giggle escaped their lip as they grasped onto her hand pulling her through the crowd of people. Her dear child Alvah, so childish and full of life each person she met would complement how bright he was. She looked down at her slightly protruding stomach giving a sigh. What a shame. What a shame he wasn’t her real child. She let the small child lead her twisting through the crowd, his small body attempting to protect her from knockage even though he himself was more likely to fall. Truly such a shame. But now that she has her own child he’s not needed anymore.Crouching down she whispered some words to him, his head of blonde hair nodding with her words.

Pulling him along she led him further and further from the crowd, yet he held no complaints, his naive eyes sparkling at her as she led him. A little skip in his step and a bright smile on his face as he babbled away to her, sweet calls of mother at his lips. She sneered before pulling him faster along the pathway, people getting more and more scarce. She pulled him along until they finally reached an old rickety building ‘orphanage’ carved onto it’s worn down wooden sign. The child gave a small frown looking at her in confusion. ‘Knock, knock, knock’, she tapped on the signboard until an old lady who appeared partially blind came out. Pulling along the child she shoved his hand into the old woman's hand along with a large bag of gold coins.

Stating some words she turned her back, only then the child realised something was wrong. Shouting out he struggled against the old lady who seemed weak but held him firm and steady, the shouts of mother followed her back. Annoyed by this title she sneered and with the three words ‘Not your mother’ she watched as the small child's legs gave out and as he looked at her with an empty, blank stare, tears plopping down his cheeks. Giving a humph she continued on walking while gently cradling her stomach, unable to see that the child behind her had clenched his fists looking at her with hatred in his eyes.

(397/500)


part 2:

March on

Wishes of a promise land
The promised land does not exist
With high hopes they march
They march towards their doom
Yet they flock together
Seeking
Searching
Wishing
In the end all that is left is the bodies
The bodies of those who marched before
Yet they keep walking
Stumbiling
Falling
Scrambling
They know not of what awaits them
What awaits them in the promise land
The blissful world they dream
They crawl over other bodies to find
What promise land could be like this

He knew what the promise land foretold
Still he did not stop them
Let them march
March
March
March
March on until they realise
Realise promise land is but a dream
But he knows none of them will realise
They had already given to much
Bruised bodies
Cracked lips
Red eyes
So he would look on with blank eyes
A frozen heart
A body of steel that did not falter

Let them march
For he had long stopped
Stopped searching for the promised land
The land that would take their troubles away
It would be warm and inviting
No hunger
No fighting
No death
He knew such land did not exist now
The promise land was simply a story
A story to keep them hoping
To keep them dreaming
To keep them wishing
A story that would make existence more tolerable
But after marching for so long he never found the promise land
Instead all he saw was desperation
Hunger
Fighting
Death
All of it followed in the journey to the promised land
So he stopped walking
Ceasing his journey

Perhaps at first he found solace that he was not the one
Not the only one searching for the promised land
Yet more came searching
More and more marched through the barren land
Then he found them pitiful
Pitiful they did not realise the promise land was not real
It soon turned to anger
He shouted at them yelled at them
The promise land does not exist
They seethed through their teeth
Lies
Lies
Lies
How can the promised land not exist
They would rather believe lies
So he just watched
Watched their constant motions of searching but never finding
Beating their chests
Screaming to the skies
Not knowing why it took so long to get to the promised land
Deceiving themselves
So he watched on
Watched on as they walked to their deaths

(401/500)


part 3:

Dancing on crystals

Alvah glanced at the glass in hand, its fragile exterior held wonderful colours, shades of blues and purple mottled together in perfect harmony. Light shone through the glass illuminating the walls with it’s patchwork pattern. Alvah held the glass closely until the light could not reach it and watched as shadows of grey crept up and the walls until they no longer held colour from before. Sneering he threw the glass to the floor letting it shatter under his foot. ‘Crunch’, he pressed his foot down onto the broken shards, smiling as he did so. ‘Crunch, crunch, crunch’, again and again his feet landed on the glass yet his face still held a smile.

Dancing, he was dancing on the shards now, his hair was wild and free, twisting to and fro with each movement. Perhaps in his head he heard a sound, a tune, a hymn, a wonderful rhythm that compelled him to dance on shards of glass. Soon his smile became wider, his movements becoming more vigorous with each step he took. Then laughter bubbled out his lip, one would find it hard to tell if he was laughing from happiness or sadness, perhaps he himself did not know. Yet he still kept dancing, his arms open wide while laughter bubbled from his lips. He could no longer feel pain, pain of the flesh.

Alvah looked down at his feet that danced on the broken glass. Why? Why could he not feel at all? He has to feel, feel the pain to know he's alive. So he kept dancing, his feet gliding along the shards back and forth. He smiled and laughed. Again and again he turned his hair slapping the sides of his face. With every turn his heart became colder and colder, his laughter became louder and louder until he himself did not know if he was laughing or screaming. Then he realized as tears fell down his cheek, he was crying. The dance had stopped. He gently wiped the tears from his cheeks but they kept falling like a stream.

Trickling down they stained his collar, salty and damp. He slumped down his hand clasping at the shards. No sting, no wound, nothing. His hand remained crystal clear so did his feet which had danced along them for the longest of time. Perhaps he still felt pain. He felt it in his heart like a fiery wound had been cut into his chest. He wished he felt the pain elsewhere, anywhere would be better than the pain he felt right now. The pain of the heart. Sneering he stood up, the tears dried on his cheeks, the glass around him now ground to dust. He smiled, this time more gentle but empty. Perhaps the pain in his heart was good. At least he knows he’s still alive.

(475/500)

[modern]

username: modern
kalon name: Ahmena

part 1: (1 art piece or 500 words)
<The Mistake, words>

part 2: (1 art piece or 500 words)
<The Aftermath, art piece>

part 3: (1 art piece or 500 words)
<Resolve, words>

[pallis]

due to requests this competition has been extended! the new end date is Jan. 17th at 11:59 pm MST. thank you all!

[FluffyBirdie]

username: FluffyBirdie >> kalon name: Calypso

word count: 486/500/496

part 1: storm chaser

Calypso watched her handmaid brush through her hair in the mirror, ready to berate her the moment she tugged too hard. As she did so, her eye wandered over to her wardrobe, thinking through what she should wear. As someone famed to present in new dresses every time public eyes laid on her, this meeting would be especially important, as she was having tea with ladies from noble families. There was no doubt gossip would spread like fire if she wore anything remotely similar to something from the past.

Armed with a colorful cyan outfit, she sat in the shade, waiting for her companions. When they arrived, the girls jumped immediately into a topic, looking eager.
"Princess, have you heard of the Dileo documents?" One asked sweetly. Calypso, hating to appear ignorant, lied easily with her chin raised.
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
A look passed between the nobles' daughters. "Well, if you know of it, surely you have it too."
"If I owned everything I know of, I would be queen of the world. No, I do not have those papers."
Another look, and a secretive smile. Calypso did not enjoy this. "Yet I thought Your Highness should have it, as a member of the royal family. Do you truly not have access to it?"
Calypso paused, unsure of how to answer. She had never heard of this before, and if she did it must be something she didn't care about. But they have questioned her bloodline, and she could not back down. "As you said, I am of royal blood. I can view any book if I so care to."
Yet another shared glance, as if they were mocking her, judging her. How dare they. "If you truly have access to it, we would love to see it." One purred, her head resting on gloved fingers. "I'm sure Prince Galahad would be willing to retrieve it, as it is quite a ways from the castle. I doubt it is problematic to ask this of him though, as you two are so close? Or is that for show?"
She could feel her skin prickling in anger. Who were they to question what she can and cannot do? She was ranks above them. There was nothing they can do that she can't. "No." She snapped, her eyes dangerously sharp. "He would be glad to fetch anything for me, including this simple document. I will have it before the end of the month, as I should. Is this all you wanted to talk about?"
A grateful smile spread across each of their faces, and they curtsied before speaking. "That is no surprise from our kingdom's princess. We thank you for taking time out to talk with us." Calypso dismissed them, and they left her seething in the garden. Once she got this document, she would have to devise some punishment for being so rude to her.

part 2: karma catcher

Moments after requesting for her brother to visit, Galahad appeared, his face brightening on seeing her.
"Is there something you needed Callie?"
"Don't call me that." She replied, though her tone was forgiving. "You know of the Dileo records?"
"Yes, related to trade and business." No wonder she didn't recall the name. She had no attention for finance.
"Can you get them for me?"
A surprised look, before returning to his usual smile. "Finally interested in our economy?"
"Yes yes. If you could please recover that, I would be quite happy." She gave him a big smile to emphasize. He chuckled, before giving her a bow.
"But of course, anything for my little sister. Your honorable knight will be riding out right away." With a quick wave he was gone, and Calypso sat back smugly, thinking of the noblewomen. Ha! How dare they doubt what was in her reach.

Soon a messenger arrived, one who had been traveling with Galahad, and who now offered the document to her. "Prince Galahad sent me ahead with this, saying he wanted to give it to you early than give it in person. He wishes you a fruitful study." Thanking her brother in spirit, she took the heavy manuscript and returned to her room, already planning the letters of invitation she would write to the arrogant women.

Days later, Calypso was back in the garden, a hand on top of this supposedly important book. When the noblewomen arrived, they looked at each other apprehensively, and she couldn't help but smirk. Didn't expect her to get it? She talked down on them for daring to think otherwise, but they were too focused on inspecting the book, before finally asking if they could take it to verify its validity.
"No." Calypso said, the smirk irremovable from her face. "Do you believe Prince Galahad would get the wrong thing?" A refusal, and a continued insistence to take the book, but she had enough. She proved she was able to get anything she desired, and seeing their unhappy faces was a fine way to end the day. "This is for the princess to have, is it not? I believe we're done talking." With a radiant smile, she stood, picked up the document and walked away, laughing in her heart at their expressions.

The stupid Dileo sat on her desk for a few days after, with her unwilling to part ways with it but also still lacking any interest in trade records. A knock at the door, before the maid there said her parents expect her in the hall. Confused, Calypso went as instructed, wondering if Galahad was back. But if he was, why the hall? She entered the grand room to find her mother crying, and the king talking angrily to a messenger. What was happening? The queen hurried over on seeing her, throwing her arms around her daughter in distress. Calypso stiffened at the touch, afraid to hear what made her parents so upset.
"Galahad was killed."

part 3: tide shifter

A chill. Those words, incomprehensible, but a shiver ran down her spine regardless. "...what?"
"Robbers. They killed him and sacked every bag."
"It's a wide road, flat grass on either side for miles, thieves should not be there!" Her father shouted, his face a burning red. "Why did I ever approve of him fetching it? That blasted document serves no one but the nobles." Blood drained from her face. Calypso was afraid to confirm her thoughts, but she spoke, determined to know if she had sent her brother to his death.
"The Dileo?"
He briefly looked surprised that she knew of the name, before anger returned to his expression. "Yes, it was kept in the royal archive to stop those dukes constantly pestering me for it." His face darkened as a thought struck him. "Somehow those fools must have heard Galahad's intentions, and sent thieves to steal it from him. I have no doubt. When I find the guilty, I'll..." He began spouting threats, but Calypso had stopped listening. How did the aristocratic families know? Through her. She did it. The blood was not on her hands, but it may as well be.

She excused herself, and almost ran to her room, her eyes landing on the cursed manuscript the moment the door opened. Thinking back, she realized how naive she had been. The daughters were steering the conversation, and prideful Calypso been led by her nose into getting the document. Led into sending Galahad. Their true intentions were so obvious now; no wonder they were laughing at her foolishness when they shared looks and smiles. And the second meeting...they were apprehensive because she received it, yes, but not because they doubted her ability to get the document. She wasn't supposed to get it in the first place. The robbers were meant to steal it from Galahad, but because he had sent a messenger ahead with it, the thieves failed. Her brother, her kind, cheerful brother, had sent it ahead because he wanted her to have it as soon as possible. And even with that failure, they dared to try taking it directly, baiting her again by doubting if it was real.

She could implicate them, tell her father about their meetings. It would prove that they orchestrated his murder. But she didn't want to. Whatever punishment her father had, it wasn't enough. They had pulled her into Galahad's death, and she wanted to pay them back personally. They thought her simple enough to get whatever they wanted through her? No. Not anymore. She will turn from an unsuspecting accomplice to their worst enemy.

As she continued to stare at the papers, her resolve hardened. She would crush them at their own game. She would learn finance, trade, business, commerce. She would find why they intended with the Dileo, and destroy it all.

For leading her brother to his death, and thinking her too afraid to retaliate...they would find out just how much she can do.

[tigrerra]

shibui || nephrite || they/she




1. [499.]
I can't help but think. How different things could have been.

I look at myself in the mirror, but the person that stares back isn't me. Closing my eyes, my body heaving with a large sigh, I get up and leave the room. Everything- aside from the low hum coming from below my feet- was silent. I decide to leave the house. I look fine, right? Maybe a little pale.
The world was still silent, as I trudged along. Not even a bird's call it. I come across the school. No, this isn't right. It's quiet. Aggression clouds my mind. When I open my eyes, its there. The loud bustle of students rushing to their classes, friends chatting aimlessly amongst eachother. I feel at peace, and the anger fades. I step inside, though wobbly. The people around me all look the same but- they're people, right? I make it to a class, and I look inside. They all have the same face- Is this my class? I take a seat. Time seems to continue passing but nothing changes. Is there a teacher? Or maybe I was the teacher. Everyone simultaneously gets up, they walk in a monotone line without error. I watch. Eventually, I myself follow, and end up at a large track field. Is this right? This field wasn't here before. Everyone is running, they all look too similar. Everything down to their footsteps is lined up in complete homogeneity. I don't join them, it seems wrong to. I wasn't like them. I get up, and turn to leave- maybe it was wrong to leave in the first place. But then I heard it. An earsplitting whistle- there wasn't a teacher here. I turn my head. All the people, with all their faces, stare at me. I guess I should have known it was coming. My heart pounds, as I step towards the track. They all stare. Their heads turn- mirroring each step I make. My head pounds, and I hear it. The whispers. When I whip my head around however, all their mouths are closed- staring at me with blank expressions. I grab my head, My vision shook as I stared at the ground. I took my place at the center of the track. I feel my heart pounding. The sweat across my face just keeps gathering. I ready myself to run. I will run, and keep running until I find the truth. I began my sprint. My head wasn't focused. I kept thinking. They aren't real, where are the real people. I gasp for air. My feet twist and in slow motion, I feel it happening. I see the ground rushing up to meet me.

It hurt. Everything hurt. When I look up, I can't help but choke back a sob. Its all gone. I was right. None of it was there. Nothing but barren land. The only building in front of me was rotted in shambles. None of it was real, so, what was real?
2. [500.]
My heart stops when you look at me.

How many days has it been? How long have I been here. I felt like I have been imagining stuff. I couldn't even remember where I was. I travelled the city. It was nearly gone, and so was I. Famished and exhausted, I fell to my knees. It's been too long- I couldn't keep up with my own mind, it ran circles around me. I close my eyes as the tears filled them. It burned my face when I cried, sometimes I wondered if I had even cried acid. Or maybe it was another trick. I never knew what to trust. I got up, feeling more defeated than ever, Despair clouded my mind, washing over everything. And thats when I saw you. No, I had to be imagining it. Someone else? There was nobody- I was sure of it, and yet you stood there in *my* mind. You didn't have the blank face. You were... Someone. I slowly advanced, still convinced that when my hand reached out to touch your shoulder, you'd be gone. But the bewilderment on your face mirrored mind. My hand rested on your shoulder. Neither of us spoke, we just stared. What was there to say? I blinked hard a couple times, still convinced you would disappear. You shrugged your shoulder, my arm fell off. The silence had never felt more uncomfortable than it did right then. Minutes seemed to pass. I decided to give up, there was nothing to say anyway. With a newfound spark of hope- no matter how small- I turned and walked away. Maybe I thought that if you were real, you'd say something. But instead of speaking, you fell in behind me. We walked together silently, my hand resting against the knife on my side- I still didn't know who I could trust.
You ate the food greedily. A cold can of beans may have seemed unappealing, but we both wolfed it down in seconds. I fed you, and brought you to my shelter, but no words had been exchanged.
"You are not fake." My voice was hollow, I couldn't even remember the last time I spoke.
"What an odd thing to say." You spoke, but unlike me, your voice sounded normal."I guess... You aren't fake either" You spoke as if we were old friends reuinited.
"You weren't here before. I don't understand you." My face was a mixture of emotions, but you simply chuckled, "I have a name. No need to just call me you." A name?
"What is your name." I asked. You paused. Your face seemed to grim. I notice it, and I'm sure you did too, "I guess- I guess your name is just You."
You laugh, " I like it." Its contageous, and soon I'm laughing along. I quiet down quickly, and speak again.
"Do you know- what... happened here?" I ask. My voice breaks a little, as I watch Your face drop.
"You don't know? You caused this."

3.

coloured version

[pallis]

closed! i'll get back asap with the results :>

please refrain from posting good lucks until the results are posted, thank you!