Seer's Journal

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Seer's Journal

Into the Eye's of a Seer

Well, I have decided to change this up a bit. I wrote a little of my story on here but I'll only post up bits that I might want editory help on. I am going to use this instead to write little excerpts that come to my mind. I find that a little more intertaining. I keep changing my journal, but hey, it is my journal. Hope you enjoy your time in my imagination when I get ideas flowing. Oh and you can comment to your hearts desire. Any type are welcomed ^^

Last edited by Seer on Mon Aug 10, 2009 10:54 pm; edited 4 times in total
Spectral Light
Spectral Light

Join date : 2009-07-31

Posts : 435
Age : 29
Location : The forgotten past.

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Post on Tue Aug 04, 2009 2:17 pm by Seer

Azur awoke with a shout of surprise as deathly cold water splashed across his pale face. He jolted up from the pile of hay and tattered dirty blankets he called a bed with a wild gasp. Water dripped off his silver hair like drips from a glacier and soaked through his ripped and mud stained clothes. His ice colored eyes darted to the side where an older man stood with a bucket that had once been filled with water.

"Time to get up mongrel," the man growled at him and threw the bucket into his chest. Azur caught it stood up with a stretch and looked around himself. Other slaves, humans and his own kind, were also getting up from their resting places on the stone floor. The walls were also made of stone to allow no warmth to enter their confines.

Azur gave a small shiver before he quickly scurried out of the slave hold and into the bright morning sun. It beat down on him and for the moment, he was glad for it. He let it warm his bones before he ran for the castle's back doors. The castle itself was made of stone and red flags flapped in the morning breeze, but all the glamour was dimmed by the stink of dung and human wastes that could be overpowering for someone who had been out in the wilderness.

Azur entered the halls that were decorated with red banners on each wall and a red carpet along the middle of the floor. A silver gryphon stood tall and proud on the banners with its mouth wide to give a mighty battle cry. All these images seemd to fly past Azur while he ran to find his master's door.

Once he reached it, he saw two young pages waiting with silk garments for the prince they served. The pages looked over at him expectingly as he approached. He knocked on the door to wake Prince Archibald and extended his elf like ears to hear any movement behind that door.

Within momment Archibald answered with a lazy yawn. His short golden hair was ruffled and partly covered his deep set blue eyes. He ushered the party into the room with a graceful hand before closing the door. The pages set the clothing down on the bed and turned to the prince for their new orders.

"You two are dismissed. Azur, you will stay," he answered. The two pages bowed low before taking their leave. Azur began undressing the prince quickly before tuning to the clothing the pages had left behind for him. "Azur, I have decided to practice my sword techniques more today."

"I am sure that be wise mi'lord. You need to prepare for you campaign."

"Right. I want to practice with you."

"With me my lord?" Azur stared at Archibald in complete shock, forgetting about his task. The prince's blue attire still in his hands.

"What's the matter Azur?" the prince smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Nothing my lord," Azur answered going back to his task of dressing the young king. He slipped the man's arms through the shirt and quickly tied together all the strings and buttons before reached for the pants. "It is just that I have never touched a blade before. It is forbidden."

"Oh, you should know me better than that Azur. I don't follow half the rules. I will teach you. Then I can practice with you at ease."

"Whatever you wish for your grace. I am but at your command."

"So you are. Tie the sword belt tighter." Azur did as he was asked while his mind drifted away and swirled in anticipation and dread. He had never touched a blade, nor picked up a twig to pretend. He didn't know how to handle one, nor the proper way to duel. He had watched his master many a time during a session and imagined himself in his master's place, but he couldn't have dared to touch a sword. It was illicit for him to even go near a weapon, let alone train with one. If he was caught by the king, who knows what tortured punishment he would receive?

Azur finished dressing the prince and combed his hair of the tangles before he put down the brush and examined him to ensure he was presentable. Once everything was complete, the prince turned on his heels and quickly walked out of the room with Azur trailing behind him. As they walked, some of the new serving lasses stopped to stare at the prince and his glamour. He truly was a handsome man. Pitty his heart was as black as cole.

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Post on Tue Aug 04, 2009 3:40 pm by Seer

The two entered the dinning hall where Azur bowed to the King and Queen who were seated at the head of the royal table with minor lords around them. Like in the rest of the castle, banners were draped around the room. There were other tables in the room for the war bands and other men. Pages were running around handing out drinks and food to everyone and some of the men were giving lusting smiles at the serving women.

Out of place, Azur went into the kitchen and grabbed a peice of bread off the table and went to the corner where he nibbled on it. He watched the cooks prepair the gloriously cooked food. The scent itself gave Azur the shivers. He stomach grumbled in longing but he didn't dare sneak anymore food.

After a while he peeked through the door to see Archibald leaving the table. He gave a small yelp and ran after his lord trailed behind him through out the prince's wanderings and lessons. Once the studies were over, Archibald sent Azur into the training field ahead of him. Azur sat down in the low cut grass and watched the peaceful scenery of a blue sky and birds going about their duty around the trees that outlined the field. Soon Archibald hurried over with two swords at his side. Azur bowed low before standing.

"Its time for you training session Azur."

"Yes my liege." Archibald handed Azur one of the words with a smile. Azur took the sword eagerly. He examined the sword in awe. It was bland, with little decoration around the hilt, but to Azur it was stunning. The hilt seemed to fit in his hand perfectly and he moved the blade around with ease and grace until he saw his master watching him.

"Are you sure you never held a sword before?" Archibald asked suspiciously.

"Yes my liege."

"Then It looks like I don't have to teach you the basics. Hold it in defense while I attack." Azur barely brought the sword up before Archibald attacked with full force. Azur blocked each attack as he danced to the natural cadence of the fight. He parried and feinted with the prince as if he had done this every day of his life.

At the last moment, Azur tripped over a rock and tried to regain his balance but could not before Archibald had flung him down with his blade. Azur fell to the ground with the sword pointed at his throat.

"You did pretty well Azur. Better than I thought." Azur stood up, angry at his silly little mistake. "Pick up the swrod and let's go again." Azur nodded and quicky retrieved the blade. They entered the dance again, but this time, Archibald was the one on the ground at sword point.

Azur rapidly helped his master up, cursing himself all the while for shaming the prince. He was surely going to get a whipping for this one. He should have been more careful! "I must really be behind my game if you can beat me," came Archibald's sour response. He took the blade from Azur and began walking back to the castle. Azur watched the sword with longing while he skulked behind his master.

The feel of the a sword in his grasp seemed to thrill him like nothing he had ever experienced before. To him, the sword was part of him. An extention of his being. It was something that seemed made for him. He watched as Archibald hung up the sword and turned to him.

"Now listen, I have a meeting to attend to so go to the stables and tell the groomer to ready my horse. I wish to ride. Do as you wish for your free time."

"Yes my lord." Azur bowed low before running to the stables in excitement. He entered the stable and flung the doors aside, starteling some of the horses as he did. Azur rushed through the stables and found his parents in a corner speaking in hushed voices while they swept the floor.

"Mother! Father!" he called to them. The couple stood in shock and worry as their son ran to them. They glanced at each other thinking the worse.

"What is it?" his mother asked and looked her son over for any injury.

"My lord dueled with me today. Oh the blade felt so good in my hands... I beat the prince!" Both of his parents looked stricken at the news. His father reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders tightly.

"You dolt! What were you thinking? Do you want them to beat you to death?" his father whispered, shaking him, hoping to knock some sense into his head.

"But Father, he gave me the sword..."

"That doesn't matter. Its the world of the king you obey. Even if he said spar with me, you loose! Don't give them something else to beat you for! Next time let him win." Azur looked away guilty, but the feel of the sword still enticed him like a drug. "Now run along and do your duty."

Azur turned away from his parents and searched for the groomer who was petting a beautiful black stallion toward the end of the stables. It was Archibald's horse but Azur wished it was his. He told the old man the prince's order and he nodded. He took the sword out of the stables and groomed him for the ride.

Azur took the reins of the horse and scratched him behind the ear. The horse leaned his head closer to Azur and rubbed his snout on his face. Azur smiled and pet his nose.

"Hello Black Night. How are you today?" The stallion snorted and nudged Azur in greeting.

I am well Azur. I feel you are excited today, Black Night answered the boy mentally.

I am excited. I held a sword today!

Something bodes ill Azur. I can feel it in my veins.

I'll be careful... Black night neighed and Azur gave him a small treat the groomer gave him. The horse licked the sugar off his hand happily.

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Post on Tue Aug 04, 2009 5:51 pm by Seer

Once the groomer was done prepping the horse, he left Azur alone with Black Night. While his master was at his meeting Azur stayed by the stallion in the serenity of stillness. No one was running about disturbing the peace or hollering at someone. Just quite save for the birds. Azur closed his eyes just enjoying it until he heard footsteps.

He turned to see his master walking toward him. Azur gave a bow and gave the reins to Archibald who mounted his horse gracefully before kicking Black Night into a gallop. Azur stayed behind and watched his master ride across the open field.

When the sun began to set behind the trees, Archibald trotted over to Azur and slid off his horse. He gave the reins to Azur and walked towards the castle entrance. Azur ran into the stables and gave the groomer the horse before he jogged to catch up with his mater's gaite.

"Azur, I am going to retire early. Come undress me and you are free to do as you please. Oh, and we will duel again tomorrow."

"Yes my lord." Azur smiled, exhilirated for another chance to touch the sword. He followed Archibald to his room and undressed the prince as was asked of him before his master sent him out. Azur went back to the slave hold after a small dinner of stale bread and moldy cheese. He lay on his bed and stared up at the wooden ceiling; his mind lingering on the duel. Why did he long for the blade so much?

Azur tried to sleep but dreams of fantastic battles claimed him, making him wake in the middle of the night. All the slaves were asleep now. He didn't want to wake any of them from their slumber or get caught by Damian, the slave dealer that had woken him this morning, so he decided to sneak out and take a stroll in the forest. He crept out of the hold quietly, hardly breathing for fear of waking Damian. When he was out, he ran to the forest making sure no one saw him do so.

Azur walked through the lush forest aimlessly. The ground was cold and hard under his feet and he did his best not to trip on the gnarled roots that stuck up from the soil. Large branches loomed overhead covered in leaves and hiding their inhabitants. On occasion he would here an animal lurking near by but none gave him cause for fright.

Suddenly, an odd feeling bubbled up inside of Azur. He didn't know what it was but he was short of breath. He sat down on a root and clutched at his chest. It was so tight and squeezing all the breath from his lungs. What was happening to him?

With a small cry, a surge of energy exploded through his body and a stream of water erupted around him and circled his form. With a yell of alarm, he shuffled backwards and fell onto his back. The water dropped out of the sky. He scrambled to his feet and looked at the spot he had been sitting bewildered. He blinked a few times but he wasn't dreaming. There was water around the grass and forming pools of mud.

He looked down at his hands confused. Did he cause that? He extended his hand but nothing happened. No familiar surge of energy. Only when he concentrated on his strength did water pool in his hands like magic. Azur smiled at his new found ability; his new found secret. He dropped his concentration to look up at the sky.

The sun was coming up. He had to get to the hold before he was missed. Azur ran back as fast as he could, but he was much slower than he had been moments ago. He stopped at the edge of the forest gasping for breath. Why was he so tired? Was it from the water? He didn't have much time to contemplate it however. He had to hurry. He crept back into the hold and onto his beds moments before Damian awoke and began shouting at everyone to get their lazy asses off the floor and get to work.

Azur pretended to just wake and went to Archibald's room to begin his day as usual. Azur flew through his duties, barely thinking. He was overwhelmed by his new power and the upcoming duel. Archibald brought Azur out to the field again and handed him the sword. The two danced with the blades in the known dance. Azur reluctantly let Archibald win to prevent any punishment on his part. After the duel, Archibald handed his own sword out towards Azur.

"Take it. Feel what a real weapon feels like in your hands," Archibald smiled. Azur looked at him nervously, but he had no choice. It was an order and he must obey. He reached out and took the sword. Azur twirled it in his hand as he studied the design. The blade was folded many times to increase its strength. How he knew this, he didn't coulden't understand. A gryphon with ruby eyes decorated the golden hilt and sheath. Azur traced the blade in longing. It was beautiful, and held a dangerous grace and elegance. Azur swung at the air slowly to feel its power flow through him in a delicate and complex dance.

"What are you doing!" a loud crack of a voice sounded, breaking the enchantment of the dance. Azur turned in fear, dropping the sword and kneeling before the king. "What is this meaning of this Swine?" he growled in anger. Before Azur could say a word and beg mercy, Archibald cut in.

"Father! He bewitched me! He stole my sword and froze me where I stood!" Azur turned to his master in dismay. How could he say such a thing?

"My liege, please, I didn't do anything!" Azur pleaded, touching the man's foot in fealty. Cold sweat began to drip down is shaking body. He could be hanged for this!

"Silence you disgusting bastard! A punishment must be given for your disobedience." The king kicked Azur back and away from him. Azur whimpered slightly as he saw the king take out the all too familur whip. Azur closed his eyes and tried to swallow the fear and bile in his throat.

"Wait! He is my slave, therefore I have the right to punish him," Archibald interrupted again. Azur gave a silent thanks to Lady Luck in relief. His master would surely give him a lesser punishment since it was he who gave him the sword.

"Very well." The king gave Archibald the whip and duty. The prince called over a serving lass who had been holding a bucket of water in her hands. Archibald ripped the already tattered clothing off Azur's back to reveal old scars. He motioned to the lass who threw the water on Azur's naked skin.

New fear overwhelmed him. What was Archibald going to do? The man raised the whip high and began unleashing it on Azur with no mercy or remorse. Azur cried out in pain, horror, and new rage. The seed of hate was finally sown. As the whipping continued, Azur cringed in the grass as blood oozed from the new wounds and the old ones which had been opened. Azur's vision began to blur and his back was numb from the sting.

"Stop! That's enough. Any more and you will kill the bastard. He is still useful," King Kentigern stated. Mercifully, the whipping stopped. Archibald and Kentigern walked back to the castle, leaving Azur shaking on the now bloodied grass in the field.

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Post on Thu Aug 06, 2009 12:00 am by Seer

((Just a thought that had come to me... This didn't happen in real life.))

So here I sit... within these white walls decorated with small little drawings from other patients on the wall. A maroon desk stands before me with neat stacks of paper and pens in their littl containers. A white apple computer is on that desk and behind it a black chair that looks oh so comfy compared to the couch I have been forced to lay upon.

I figure myself a normal teenager. I have normal routines, have a social life, not depressed by any means. Why I am here at a psychoogist's hospital is beyond me. I just recieved an e-mail invitation and thought it was a joke. Now here I am wondering if I am borderline on some disorder or such. The white walls here are enough to make anyone go insane.

The quite... the eerie quite. Not a single sound. I cough and rubb my hands together. I hate waiting for doctors. They are slow. You come in, wait for two hours outside in the waiting room, then you are brought into a freezing room where you are held for another three hours before the shining doctor in a white coat comes knocking in.

Its not that kind of doctor though. I am just cold, wondering what awaits me. Then the doctor enters, smiling at me. He is clean shaven and has perfect, and dare I say it, white teeth. He shakes my hand and sits down across from me and clears his throat.

"We are conducting a study on normal teenagers about growth patterns. A test for you mental compacity really," he reasures. Oh goodie, I am not insane. "I am going to ask you a few questions that you should answer to the best of your ability." I roll my eyes. I just want to get out of this room.

"What is your name?"


"How old are you?"

"19. If you were going to ask me these questions, I could have just been given a survey at home." The doctor only smiles at my outburst.

"Who are you."

"I am just a teenag boy who-"

"Incorrect. Who are you?"

"I am a boy in college. I am a writer-"

"Wrong again. Who are you?" The third time he asks me that question I wanted to jump up and yell. What did he mean? What else could I say? Who am I? I am just a writer. A college student. A boy. All wrong. What else could the question be asking me? If everything I say is wrong, what is right? If I don't know who I am, then why am I me? I am me. A person. What else can I be?

Thoughts began to swirl in my mind. There was no answer I could say that was correct. Who am I? Who are you? What does it mean? Why these questions? What are we? Not human? Not people? What else is there? Masks. We are masks. But that's wrong too. Not how I see it. We are people who put on masks every day of our lives. We aren't students. That's just a label. You are a boy. That's another one. What we believed to be, is not. We are not who we think we are.

We are nothing. All that lies is mask upon mask. nothing but a facade. Throughout our entire lives, we mold ourselves. We yearn for freedom and call out liberty, but we do no realize that we conform to those around us. Our parents, your teachers, our colleges, society as a whole. We try to be like them, or try to be the outsider. no matter what, we are just masks in this game of reality.

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