The Lords of Fates

I have witnessed many things throughout these eras and ages alike, all combined within Advents that have both held culprit to the rise and the fall of all things I had once loved, all things that I had once held dear. Never in a lifetimes would I have ever thought that the Landscapes that were once pure and clear with beauty – would lead me to a place, or a state of Fates. Upon the Caverns that I had once traversed, I never would have imagined such bitter cold, such piercing winds, would be preparing me for these infinite cold night airs, and raging storms which stand before me now – and darkness, infinite blackness that has long since begun consuming me. With no resistance on my end. Never would I had known that the vast and beautiful plains which prefaced, a land that I knew would change everything. For Fates first made their presence known when towering castles beckoned over everything I held dear, they made their presence known when all was lost among cold and empty platforms during early hours of the morning. Fates first made their presence known when I knew Frontiers were a place that I never truly belonged.

As this hourglass of fates now runs out, I can feel the very shifting of time grind within me, like grinding against my bones. It is both a painful and a panicking feel all the same, a hard truth to swallow in a sense. I shall now let this Flame that I have acquired burn into something entirely more violent – wildfires that shall burn throughout my icy veins, fires that will purge and set fates to the very things I have raged against throughout these final fragile and fleeting moments. I know now that a new hourglass, one of Final Fates is about to be set. One that will wake me during the lost twilight hours of the day, one that will keep me moving, yet weary throughout the darkest hours of the night that we have ever known.  For now, these Lords of Fates have finally made their way into this place, no longer beckoning, but instead tampering and preparing all that will follow once this Advent meets it’s end, preparing what will follow once Final Fates consume everything and everyone within this vast and seemingly infinite place.

The time that remains for me here during these final fleeting and fragile hours is a time of acceptance and endurance. A time where I must accept openly what is to come while also remaining loyal to the ever-fleeting hope that seeps from my heart. It is a time of great confliction, a time where odds much taller than the Castles I’ve ever known will stand before me, taunting me, for the strength that I have has longed since reached it’s peak. For soon, a pattern of events that will follow the turning of this hourglass of Final Fates will behold the coming day’s that will lead all who are consumed into something of infinity something away from this shattered and tattered line. I have now dropped this mantle of warrior of shadows, for now these shadows no longer exist to guide me, for they now exist to consume and devour to their own hearts content – an action that I cannot avoid unless I am to become a blackness that cannot be devoured. A blackness that is void of all light, a blackness that can exists within the darkest of nights, and not fall victim to the shadows undertaking. These Lords of these final fates that await now call to me in promise to lead me to these final fates, but I must first accept that in this line, nothing comes without immense sacrifice.  For with acceptance of this, and fearlessness of the loss and darkest night that awaits – I head into the Advents end.

False light and shadows from the darkest darkness that awaits have now clashed within this vast and seemingly infinite place. It had now caused a panic all around that has seemingly thrown everyone who wander across these scapes into a sort of spiral – into a sort of confusion and daze where we now stand unsure what awaits us during the darkest day’s that are to come. In essence, while these cold night air winds begin to blow and the the fiery flame that begins to burn brighter within my grasp – I have begun to tread into the depths of despair, in search of a solace and a peace during these final remaining hours of this advent, in search of final acceptance during these fleeting moments of this shattered and tattered line.

The grasp of the 9th sleep has made it’s way into this place once more, flooding throughout the land entirely like a sort of poison of plague, it tires me to my very core, enticing me to submit and dive backwards into the abyss that inevitably awaits me me at the end of all this – but I know that fires must first be set, and a mantle must first be taken up before I dive into this all, until that times comes I refuse to give in. During the darker days with even more darkness approaching, I can see the false light embracing those who have always been fit for it, a shadow of what truly exist, a shadow that stands before me now – taunting me to become part of the illusion that I had always once wanted to be a part of, one that I still find myself falling into temptation for time and time again. Until that time comes however, the only embrace that awaits me is that of the cold night air, grazing my flesh and taunting me to give in further and further towards the final fates that awaits, the fates that the lords have now begun to bestow onto me.

The cold has begun to force it’s way into this vast and seemingly infinite place more aggressively that it has ever done before. It is a violent sort of moving, for it’s very entrance has been a delay on the rising of the fires that I so strongly desire to obtain and start from the final flames that I now behold – this cold has now opened up this lands into a place of seemingly endless gray, nothing but doom and despair awaiting into the infinite beyond. With each fragile hour that passes, the darkening grows more and more sinister, as very soon the darkest hours that we have long since dreaded, hours that only once existed in nightmares, nightmares that are now of this shattered and tattered line – will have arrived. I cannot escape this coming darkness, it does not matter how far I run nor how much I may yearn to fight, it is inevitable in essence. With shadows now running rampant, waiting to devour what remains of this line, it is all to late to break my ties with them, for I can no longer erase them from who I’ve become.

At times, when hours speed by like blazing bullets, or shooting stars in the night, I am left staggered – wondering if this is all a dream. Wondering if all along I have been asleep whilst being apart of something entirely different, eyes rolled so far back into my head that the ability to even perceive the line in which I tread on, is much different than the one that flashes within my head – however this is not the case.  This very line and the very atrocities and trials within have left me bruised, broken, scattered and tattered throughout the ages and eras alike. Although the perception of this line is said to be for a true light,  like much truer than anything I will ever come to know of here – within these fleeting day’s, it is impossible for me to see these coming fates as love in anyway, for to me, it is all nothing but an echo of hell, a curse that I will make it out of by myself.

In the darkness that I will be left in as these inevitable nights begin to settle in, so too will come the arrival of those who behold fates, gripping them tightly within their grasp, ready to bestow upon us all. I have ascended much fear throughout the hours leading up to these fleeting moments, and while uncertainty and the unknown still exist to me to a certain degree, there is a sort of sense of clarity that runs through my blood that will soon reach my brain, a sense of clarity that is only carried within the blood of those bound by these coming fates. Fates that will soon be spread across these landscapes like some cataclysmic wildfires.

During nights like these my hands begin to shake, uncontrollably for the cold night air remains to be piercing in it’s essence, and the visions that flood my mind? They are infinitely filled with the very promise of cutting ties and shattered lines, the very promise of hope that runs thin, the very promise of fires and surrender. I’ve come to terms with a lot that now faces me now, for ever since the Legend had returned, and even long before then, truly, I’ve been a force beneath a nightmare – caught within cycles that I have seemingly always been destined to endure, always been destined to experience. During these times, before the darkest of hours begin to settle in, I can now hear that the God’s have gone silent. I can now tell that the universe is irresponsible, I can now feel that the fates have begun to settle in – and they are anxious, much like the shadows that roam ever so freely now, to devour.

I am now faced with a trial, a final trial unlike those that have came before this one. And while the exact details have yet to be revealed to me, I know all to well that it will ultimately be one of my own doing, one of my own making – for now, with flames that shall soon turn to fires within my hand, and with anger, desperation – and acceptance alike all fighting for a place within this quickly darkening Twilight, I know that one will surely take the course, leading me onto the end of this very Advent. Leading onto the end of the path that started this all.

We are no longer in a time where this all can be tread lightly on. For around every corner now, I can see the doom, suffering, damnation at the absence of true light – and the flooding of the false. The shadows that remain clung to me now are morphing into something different beyond my understanding, becoming a black veil of sorts during these darkening times. I am now beginning to transition into a state out of the lust and delusions that this line breathes, this line that is now so shattered and torn, that all sense of purpose and self has long since been lost. We are now feeling the beckoning of the bringers of what we have secretly yearned for throughout these ages, fates that will be bestowed upon us – bringing an end to this all.

The darkness that compliments this cold night air had made it’s way into this shattered line silently, and threateningly.  In a way, it seeks to carry out acts of retribution of it’s own, as for some time now it has been locked behind the walls of the shadows and echoes alike; echoes that now begin to wage war against these shadows that now roam free and the very fates that they herald that are soon to flood across this vast and seemingly infinite scapes. Within these fleeting moments, I tend to disassociate with it all, I tend to forget all that is at stake in all of this, I tend to drift off into visions of other lines, visions of other futures, visions in which I have lost touch with – as these eras and ages past have long since taken a toll on me.

The more that I spend time in these visions, the less I can feel the panic that is inevitably settling in, the less I become attached to this all, and the tighter the grip of the coming 9th sleep begins to have on me.  In visions, I can feel the cold of the snow and the folding of the universe, in visions I can see the peak of the summits and the flowing of the iced cold rivers that flow purely within the streams. Within visions, I can feel all that I was meant to be, and at the same time, all you wanted me to be. But that is not for me to touch on now, for the thoughts that you had pre-conceived of my entire being will be for reflections that shall unfold at the tail end of this all – and even now I am quickly closing in. For now, I strive exhaustively, yet willfully towards the unknown which has been enveloped in shadows and guided by echoes alike – with only the final flame left to guide me.

The desperation is what I yearn and struggle to leave behind, but with each moment of acceptance that has been bestowed upon me within these visions, the more this desperation fades into the blackness. In these visions, I have in a way begun to sense a force of peace that is tirelessly seeking to find it’s way in, a sense of peace that has awaited long since I took up this mantle of the Warrior of Shadows, a sense of peace that had sat and watch the day’s of vanishings take place. This peace is said to await the more darkest of souls during the core of the most blackest of nights, at the edge of the most crucial of times – a moment of time that marks an Advents end.

The feeling of these day’s have become so much darker, so much more sinister, and so much more heavy than I could have ever imagined. With every breath I take – there is a sort of panic that latches itself to the particles in the air, invading my all. Mixed with the smoke that now seeps it’s way into my lungs from the Final Flame that I now behold. A flame that is now the last remaining light of this vast and seemingly infinite place, a flame that shall soon ignite the skies for as long as it can stay alive – a flame that will bring about a final twilight before it begins to devour all that remains in this place whole. Before reaching this divine force, I had joined forces with the shadows, for even I knew that to fight against them was futile, for the warrior of shadows I had long since become – helping this very force to bring about the very devouring of the light and landscapes that have begun to take place now – for in return, this darkness promised to lead me to the last of the light which remains in this line, a light that would do my bidding for as long as I could control it.

For I have brought these shadows here, to this very moment at the end of this Advent, and while I have yet to know for sure whether or not I will regret this decision in the end, I do know that the time that remains now is much more sinister and fragile than any other time within this line that I have ever known. Unlike before, within this fragile time the looming threat remains to be the arrival of fates I have known for some time that shall inventively make their way into this place, fates that cannot be avoided, fates that will seek to claim both warriors and shadows alike, bending cycles and echoes to it’s will – ultimately bringing about a new line, one in which only those who are worthy may endure.

So much regarding where this reality stands within this moment in time is rapidly changing, twisting, and reverberating in ways that have since infiltrated my very veins. For even now, as the cold night air blows, and as the panic rises, I still search for calm as the force I’ve come to know as the 9th sleep begins to call out to me once more, but I refuse to give in. The fight that arrives within these landscapes now is not a fight that can be won, it is not a war that should be waged – it is an undertaking that must be met. When I close my eyes, I can no longer see lines of some strange shimmering future – for instead, I can only see the glimmering fates that lie ahead. The hope that has always burned from within me has long since been replaced by the only constant, the only truth left, that is the final flame – a force that can at any moment spiral out of my control, or worse dim to a fated nothingness. It is in this knowing that as the shadows begin their devouring, that I too take what remains of the power that has been left to me to seek out the last resort, to seek out the fates that may very well lead me to a new line of my own.