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Posted: Fri Feb 16, 2007 4:18 pm
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crap, what's it doing? why me? Oh my god! I'm going to suffocate! yelled Shourai in her mind.
"Orae! What's it doing?" asked Harmony. "Harmony, love. Calm down, it's crystalizing her body." the human sacrufice...
"But, but why her? What she ever do?" pleaded Harmony, sickened by the scene in front of her. The water had began to glow and was hardening her bady into a slightly darker than sky blue color. "The demon needs a vessel in witch to be sealed, this is the seal you've long awaited. Her soul is being torn from her body, but the demon remains." If only I could...Yes! maybe I can! Let's hope I'm not killed for this... "Her soul will forever be at peace, with all the other great warriors who seeked truth and justice in our warring and terrible world."
"I see, she's going to heaven." suggested Harmony "I guess that's what you might say." agreed Orea. She then proceeded to go to the very edge of the water and yelled "Be at Peace Shourai! Welcome Home!"
The words spoken barely reached Shourai's ears, or what she thought were ears. Then it happened, her soul completely detached itself from the crystalizing body, whitch immeadiatly turned dead black. She felt as though she was flying, probably because she was. Never in her life had she felt so care free.
bam.
She was in the castle, only it was clean, and new, and more beautiful than ever.
A booming voice, as majestical as a sounding trumpet, yet as soothing as the reed flute, and even still declarative like a bass drum, and even as unique as the oboe, sounded through out all the passages of the halls a poem.
"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting, too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or be lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good nor talk too wise; If you can dream and not make dreams your master, If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with triumph and Disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings, And risk it in one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your begginings, And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone... And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the will which says to them; "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can heart hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving second with sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, my son!"
-END- _________________________________________________________ A/N: the story's over, deal with it. Oh, and the poem isn't mine. It's by Rudyard Kipling
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 4:15 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 11:33 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 21, 2007 1:31 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2007 9:04 am
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Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2007 3:04 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2007 6:12 pm
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Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 10:05 am
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Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 7:25 pm
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Posted: Wed Feb 28, 2007 1:45 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2007 12:10 am
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2007 11:48 am
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 6:00 am
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