When the days run together, any day could be your birthday.
Or none of them.
I know those who pick a day every other moon phase to celebrate.
I don’t pick a day. Every now and then I feel older and I count that as enough of an acknowledgement and move on.
The ones who celebrate call me cheerless. That I am caught in the drudgery and should make the most of life.
I tell them that life is making the most of me and I can’t be bothered.
I don’t mind their celebrations. You’d think they’d return the favor.
But no. They have to ‘share’.
Only reason I learned their days is to avoid being around them. I just pick one of the days and ignore the rest. Only so many times you can have cake you don’t like anyway.
No one likes the reason why we’re this way now. But some of us were already half there.
I would never have wished for it to have started like it did. But I do enjoy the perks.
It will change back, some day. Won’t be the same as before, but people will do their damnedest to try and make it be.
And I’ll have the memories of the empty times to keep me going.
For the Wizard’s Tower called them all.
Of the ones who came before, no mind was paid.
For each would prevail where others had fallen.
Each to make a legend.
And legend did they reach.
Bound to protect that which they sought to claim.
Avarice given purpose
And a single thought burns.
“What is not mine, shall never be yours.”
Into the Dark you go.
Down below, so very cold.
Shadows that hug and hide a death.
Sounds too loud and circling.
Yes, into the Dark you go.
For treasures untold.
But are all dangers known?
And will you be seen
Once again in the Sun?
The smile was now theirs, as they had proved to the world their worth.
Their names were legend. Their deeds sung.
Coin they had, but did not need.
Always those who paid for the priviledge of their company.
The journey back to their home, so small and quiet now.
And the friendship held, grown even deeper.
Always would they be bonded.
Always together to remember the one lost.
All, and yet nothing.
The will must be there.
The learning, the time spent.
The desire to KNOW THIS. DO THIS.
To know what others know, yet make it your own.
The thrill of creation, of a new spell to bear your name.
To continue beyond the now, beyond this life. To be remembered.
To gauge the distance.
The movements of the target.
What, if any, cover might interfere.
If it can be done quietly, quickly.
The breath drawn and held.
The steady flick of the fingers.
And the slipping away.
The thrill of melee
Being close enough to see their eyes, feel their breath.
To be face to face, to see the moment when death comes.
To have to think about guarding even more than attacking.
The blood rushing, the heart pounding.
Life is rarely better than when death is so close.
The world now saw how they had grown in wisdom. Their actions came without thought, a weakness in one bolstered by the ability of another.
Their smiles still came easy, though sometimes with a grimness.
Times when no words were spoken.
Others when none were needed.
They thought they knew all about each other, but so much more had been learned.
But names they had gained.
And the friendships held.
They stumbled into the room, door slamming as they slid down the walls. The one bed went unused in favor of the floor.
Hands were on hilts, a quick spell to surround them, a few ball bearings in front of the door.
A night to regain their strength and spells.
A lot longer to forget the day.