The Light & The Fire (PROLOGUE)

It feels like eons ago, where I woke into this world, following the events of what I thought to be solace, peace, and closure alike within the frontiers of the past. But I was wrong. Although throughout the ages, this place may have provided me with a sense of hope and infinite possibility, it was all quickly swiped away when I realize that I had been wandering across these seemingly infinite scapes of a dying light. A light that was always meant to fade upon my arrival, a light that was in a sense, not even true to being with – but was eventually decoded, exposing it’s true essence. With the fading of this false light which once spread it’s wings rapidly throughout these landscapes, I came to know of the inevitable void that had always remained, that was always constant, that could never be fixed or mended. A void which is the devourer of such light and the core of the darkness which has now spread across this seemingly infinite place entirely – like a plague.

The nightfall has now settled in, along with fates, fires, and the lords alike – and all is coming together for an event that has yet to be seen during my time, an event that I never thought I must experience, let alone bare witness to. The fires that were once the flames in which I have controlled are now burning to their very desire, with little concern left for my will. They are now devouring entirely, much like the shadows that also once broke a part from me, after doing my bidding. What stands before me now in chaos entirety, for now fires, lords, fates, and even myself fight towards a line that does not exist, a line that we will never see, for we are all marked, and will forever will be, for we are all destined to be met with the final fates – fates that will determine our exists and everything in between.

When I close my eyes, I envision the time I had spent dreaming once before, dreaming of things that I have yet to proclaim to you now. The fires that now march rapidly across these landscapes hold the essence of these dreams, and in a way they cannot break free from them. For the core of their flames, the flares, which started them all were born upon the hopes and dreams of true light that I once had, true light that you once sparked within me, true light that is otherwise absent from this line and absent from this life. True light that is the only mediator, the only catalyst, making what is light and fire – one in the same.

Evolution of the Flame

The darkest nights and the end of this advent alike have all long since made their way in. In this time period, shadows are devouring and darkness is surrounding – with an endless void far from my perception is now said to be hungering for the souls that are to come. For the souls seeking clarity, retribution, and a rest far greater than what the 9th sleep could ever provide. In these moments is where all is ending, where all is spiraling rapidly towards the final fates that remain, as the lords and harbingers of the fates that remain keep watch like vultures with each passing moment. The day’s and hope and faith are far behind us, for what keeps us going from now until these final fates are met is nothing but the burning desires of our ebon soul’s, and the violent burning flame alike, a flame that now seeks to set on a course of it’s own – far out of my control.

I have always known that these Final Flames would not forever be mine for the taking alone, for eventually, they would grow a mind of their own, a desire of their own, and meet a fate of their own – all within these fleeting and fragile moments of time leading up to the death of this Advent and line alike. I understand deeply that what comes now are of fires that will march and spread rapidly across this vast and seemingly infinite scape, as they cleanse and set a cataclysmic course that will surely be followed by the arrival of the final fates. Fates that are inescapable, fates that have somehow always been a part of us, fates that have been waiting patiently – throughout the ages.

The willingness to allow the evolution of these flames is not an easy choice, for I know destruction is to come out of these fires that will ravage these landscapes, but I also know that these fires will become a part of me. The lords and gods alike only know how I have manage to cope with the pain all of this time from holding my hands on these flames, harnessing them, and tending to them, preparing them for something I shall ultimately have no control over. My blood is now running cold throughout these fleeting and fragile moments, for my attachment to loss and the fading of this line alike are fading rapidly, in a sense of regret as well, but at the same time I know it must be done. The weight of all of this, shadows, flames, and fates alike have long since taken toll – and have now forced me to take on a mantle of darkness that I have always been destined to claim.

The Black Megalith

This reality has quickly become ever-so crippling, to face the very fact that this line is broken, shattered, tattered and fading has put me into a state of denial and resistance time and time again; but as I have now grown and wandered long enough to see these Fates finally be settled in, as well as the arrival of a darkness that is now the darkest I have ever seen – I have slowly but surely become to accept what now lies at hand. I stare every so closely to the hands of time for not only do they speak of the remaining hours that exist for this Advent, but also the concrete consequences which lie and have begun to manifest as Final Fates during these darkest nights to come. I can see the hourglass of fates, depleting ever-so swiftly as I now seek to set fires across this vast and seemingly infinite scape. Fires that will in a sense, bring about my own cataclysm to this place, spelling out my own final fate which surely awaits to be revealed to me.

The lords that had once beckoned have long since begun to guide me towards these very fates I have long since known existed, waiting within a line that has been waiting to break, waiting to be erased – throughout all of these ages. For eras, I had ignored what I had always known was to come. A darkness that could never truly be locked up, a darkness that in it’s own way, was always fated and meant to exist. An inevitable blackness that now spreads like a plague across these landscapes – for the only light that exists within this place now is of the flames which have grown extremely restless, waiting to set ablaze everything in it’s past, before they too are erased along with the very line they exist within. But their light has guided me towards structures of sorts, structures that seek to provide and unleash the very pit of darkness I had kept locked away throughout all of those ages. For these structures realize that as this darkness is consuming, one must become greater than it as a whole – lest they be devoured along with the rest.

In a sense, I am ashamed of what I am now becoming. Ashamed in the sense that for ages I have followed in the footsteps of lies within a blind reality. For what I am to become now is truly what I have always known to be inevitable, a distant future that had always infiltrated my dreams, and crept it’s way into my once ever-so peaceful lines. There will be those who cannot withstand or comprehend with their wandering minds what has begun to take place, for this transformation in a sense is like a spreading disease, an incurable fixture of fate that will deliver me to a void that has long since existed before the day’s of you and I. For I have loved, and I have lost, and much more-so than I could ever ask, but less than that of what I had dreamed. What you’ll see happen now may be blinding to the eyes, a scarring picture that will surely reverberate throughout the lines of whatever new Advent is birthed once the dying one now is met with it’s end, for this is darkness you have long since shunned, and this is blackness that is sickening to the ripening souls – cover your face, bow your head and look away.

THE NIGHTFALL

I have arisen in denial, arisen in a state of resistance of what has been told to come, of what inevitably lies at the end of this Advent – once Final Fates are met. With this place so vast in it’s infinite scape, it has all since been shrouded into the endless gray- an endless frozen void of sorts which is consumed by the darkness all the same. For the night that we have all long since dreaded has finally come, it has now settled in, and the toll it has begun to take is much heavier than anything I have ever known. This night, so dark, so black, so close to the truest of voids that even the shadows themselves yearn to become something as menacing as what stands before them now.

There is no escaping this darkness, for that time has long past gone and now this fate, that is in fact the darkest of nights – is here to stay. I have been living in denial, I have known for ages that it would inevitably come to this, a nightfall where both shadows and echoes alike spin in a violent fashion, drifting us all off to deep and dreamless sleeps, while also consuming what remains of our noir of a soul. There is no turning back, and while I may at the same time find a sense of comfort, and solace here, I also know that there will never be any peace for long as I hold the regret and the memories of a line that could have been, a line that is now broken a shattered, a line that will never exist again.

I can feel what I can only describe as the bitter end, filled with cold and emptiness in entirety banging at the veil that shrouds this reality. It is anxious and it is angry, yearning ever so desperately to invade – like a virus seeking out a suitable organism. This may very well be where all is ending, and though I watch the hourglass closely like a vulture, I also know that the time that remains cannot be spent with idle hands. For I now know that during these darkest of nights, these shadows no longer serve me, for what they certainly still exist to devour, they are now in a way, inferior to what stands before us now. For to tread throughout these blackened nights requires a commitment, a taking up of a mantle, an process of evolution that will both transcend as well as fulfill what I have long since known to be one of my final fates, a fate that I had run from for far too long.                 

Intro An Advents End

Stillness, a fragile moment in time in between violent silence and the piercing noise. A moment that stands in between the ending of a life, and the beginning of a new one. A realization that only comes when the world taketh away, whilst the soul replenishes. 

This Advent is ending, something we are realizing now, and something that will be made clear time and time again – while these final fates come down to embrace us all. The snow blows violently across these vast and seemingly infinite scapes, it grazes my flesh and even still taunts me to give into darker more benevolent thoughts, but even now I continue to fight off the persistence. 

The legend that had once returned has long since gone now in this shattered line, nothing remains of it’s trace, nothing but memories that are oh-so fragile, and ever-so fleeting along with the time that runs thin within this place. In my hand, I now hold fires, and in my heart, I now hold desires which are absent of expectations but always hold dreams. For even as hope quickly fades, it is the dreams that bring me moments of solace and peace that are otherwise absent and far from this place now. 

We now come close and hold hands with the closest of those that we can find in order to bring about a sense of readiness as this hourglass of final fates tips over. And with it, the very remaining flames that I hold within my hands now bursting into fires much brighter than I could ever imagine. Fires that will be the last guiding force that will lead me to final fates, fires that will cleanse the path that I leave behind, and continue to erase what remains of this vast place – along with the time that runs thin here. 

Arrival Of 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.

The Endless Gray

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.

Blood of the Fated

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.

The Beckoning of the Lords of Fates

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.

 

In Visions

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.

Lords & Landscapes