gloved fingers dragged down his tired face,
                           his usually curled up hair hanging limply in front
                           of his eyes where there was a certain dullness—
                           oh, how he didn’t sleep that night! haunted by
                           nightmares of the past, a past he’d rather forget.

                    yet, perhaps, it was best that he remembered.
                           he looked over at his personal journal, reaching
                           out to grab it and drag it into his lap. part of him
                           wondered if his writings would ever compare to
                           that of alternis’—but he was alternis, right? it had to.

                    and that meant his feelings for a certain girl were
                           just as strong.

                    to hear her whisper his name, to feel the soft caress
                           of her hand, it’s all ringabel wanted, all he needed.
                           to bask in the warmth of her love, a love that would
                           never come. he knew from the start it would be un-
                           requited, tragic as it may be, but it was something
                           he grew to accept.

                    "edea lee…" he murmured, the chair creaking as he
                           moved, one leg crossing over the other. looking pen-
                           sive, pen pressed to his lips, he cast his gaze out the


                    "how would one begin to describe edea lee?

Os passos por aquela grande casa quase eram irritantes, nada ali parava - parecia que a própria casa estava viva, e estava - AH! NÃO! NÃO TORRE OS LEGUMES TANTO ASSIM! -  a casa parecia ressoar grandes risos enquanto a criatura de cabelos castanho tentava aquetar a pequena labareda que ria em seguida do rosto da bruxa - Ah! Eu já disse para não queimar legumes! Irei fazer você come-los da próxima vez! - falava enquanto inflava as bochechas e novamente coria entre a cozinha que parecia um caos - um caos convidativo pelo menos.


- Livro…livro..livro… - murmurava saindo da cozinha e em vez de descer a escada apenas me sentava pelo corrimão da mesma que parecia ameaçar a cair e descia por ela dando um pequeno pulo no final, assim corria té uma prateleira que estava com livros desejando por uma limpeza, começava a pular para tentar alcançar o livro que estava um pouco mais alto com a capa vermelha, talvez fosse uma cena engraçada aquela já que uma bruxa daquela estatura e a idade que tinha - talvez não fizesse muito sentido aquele esforço, talvez nem houvesse percebido o barulho da porta se abrindo.


"you should calm down, or else you’re going to make this very difficult!” and with that, he leaps into the air with the stranger’s hands in his own. they’re flying, soon enough, walking through the air with ease. “see? it isn’t so bad.”

                    “So many of you today! I can’t believe it.”


                    “Do you require my assistance?”


                   ”Satan is so formal.
                                     Call me Peter.”

At the stroke of midnight, the calm silence of the land is broken. Horses trample upon earth freshly coated in a spring’s rain, the hoots and hollars of wild men build and meld. Blue banners flutter, almost disappear against the night’s sky. There is no true formation to the band of men, only two further stationed at its peak.

A crescent moon is out tonight.

"Are you ready guys?"
The gang screams out in unison. “Yeah!”
"Psych up guys!"
"Yeah!" They bellow from the top of their lungs.
"Get crazy! Yeah-ha!"

Their final cheer stretches out as their leader looks back at his rag-tag group.

"While old men hide behind mountains and castles, the One-Eyed Dragon, Date Masamune will take the land under his wing!" He casts a shark’s grin to his retainer before spurring the beast under him, to the horizon, and to new lands ahead.