yet another pointless blog…

Prologue

The
minutes trickled by, bit by bit. Oblivious to the storm clouds gathering
outside or the distant crash of thunder, Fereia gazed into the stone bowl of
crystal clear water.

*Help me.. help.. darkness.. cold
I’m so cold.. caves.. captured.. heeelpp..* Green eyes, panicked, glazed over
with only a hint of sanity left. Dishevelled brown hair, thin lips muttering
incoherently. Praying for rescue.

Her
face turned pale as the water bubbled, destroying the image, breaking her
concentration.

 Slumping
against the cold stone walls in the highest chamber in her master’s tower, the
hapless mage apprentice was caught in a dilemma. Scrying was strictly
prohibited by Master. Fereia cringed as she recalled the previous instance of
her insubordination.

 *Drowning in despair so deep.
Everything blurred and confused and .. wrong somehow. Fear. Overwhelming
suffocating creeping darkness. Lastly, pain. Pain like you never imagine. Pain
so bad that the memory is but a mere shadow, indescribable excruciating pain.*

 However
that, as horrible as it may have been, was merely an illusion. Caused by one
flick of Master’s fingers accompanied with His piercing gaze. Oh yes, Master
was very good as creating illusions. Illusions so complete and real,
encompassing all five senses, going beyond mere senses into emotions. Illusions
that have caused weaker minds to go mad, stronger minds forever scarred.

 12
years she had been here, 12 years of toil and sweat and drudgery… The awe she
had once held for the Master, the awe that brought her to him, begging to be
taken in, promising her complete dedication, has since worn off, chipped away
by endless days and sleepless nights completing menial tasks, shattered by her
growing knowledge she gained from observing him.

 The
fear remained. And grew. Invisible bars, imprisoning her more effectively than
any other barrier.

 But the vision of the green-eyed, brown haired
elf haunted her thoughts. Strange to be falling for a face in the scrying bowl.
Very strange.

It
was time to get out. Leave, to see him, rescue him, save him from de… Fereia
couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. Her resolve, long smothered by
fear, suddenly exploded into reality. Standing up, she began planning her
escape, erect posture replacing her normal subservient slouch.

 Little
did Fereia know she was being observed. Tested.

 The
Master broke off his connection. Smiled. All was going to plan. The prophecy
had to be guarded at all costs. The most vital part of the prophecy being,

              Seven
people from seven clans,
              Seven
tasks, seven pieces,
              Seven
strangers doomed to wander,
              Each
blessed with a gift no other,
              And
should the seven become one,
              Merging
in the presence of noon sun,
              Darkness will rule no
longer.

———————————
And there you go… my attempts at writing fiction (haha.) if i get comments (hopefully 2 or 3) .. ill post the next chapter (and continue writing chapter um… 5 i think)

ive been wondering.

why is it that in most epic-battle-type
sci-fi series, the enemy is a collective/ hive-mind of some kind? like
the borg in startrek, the bug (or whatever) in starship troopers…

and
in the fantasy series… its always the dark wizard with genourmous
powers who gets beaten by the smallest of them all (think lotr, harry
potter, even star wars)

i guess some cliches are, and always will be.

there
is a reason  though, i guess, for putting the unlikeliest midget vs the
most strong evil madman - who has everything, but oops, leaves a weak
point (aka the Ring in lotr, the chute in the Death Star in star wars,
voldemorts thing against love…) - which, of course, the hero will
unerringly exploit.

and in the case of the battle stories against
the collective mind, what comes out victorious is us humans, the ones
with the originality and imagination and improvisation that can never
be if we were a collective.

but of course, we humans like happy
endings. so i would imagine if we were living as the collective — all
the stories (if there were stories) — would be about the superior
teamwork + overwhelming numbers crushing the small and chaotic group
who comes apart due to differences.

same difference - same traits, two very different possibilities.

however, all of this will stay in the realm of fiction.

while eve goes on with her (very ordinary) life, back in singapore.

—eve.—

no, not really.

can be blue about something i seriously dont really care bout.

just random attacks of boredom (i could always rehearse the presentation speech but it just gets me down … not sure how many times i can bullshit without sounding insincere.)

—-

sorry for the lack of updates to the blog.

honestly, there is nothing going on in my life –> nothing to blog about.

trouble looms tho.

i think.

eve.

Ah. I can finally connect with the school’s internet…

But its kinda sad cuz i cant stop myself from looking around to see wheter anyones watching me .. with my msn and game (mud - if u dont know what it is thats okay .. its not the brown squishy thing on the school field) i get VERY jumpy if ppl so much as glance at my screen.

Other than that of cuz, its quite good (perhaps faster than the shared net connection im paying for. heh)

but area is VERY limited. sigh