His home felt empty, cursed by some evil force and as he made his way into his family's castle, he learned the reason for this. His father sat on his throne, heartbroken and fallen into dark thoughts...
At the age of eleven, Zylron lost his right leg in an accident. This forced him to start using a staff to walk and the sorcerers claimed that he would never walk normally again.
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Cheers, my fellow writers and other creative wizards! It has been a while since I posted on my blog and I apologise for that! I've been extremely busy during the past few weeks and I've worked on so many things at once that it was near impossible to save time to write here! Don't worry … Continue reading Friday Update! News About My Writing, Socials, And Youtube Channel!
A great king sat on his throne of stone and goldFar from harmFar from darknessBut as he heard the silent crowdHe fearedHe hated As crowds gathered around his castleHe shouted to his troopsThey moved to the walls to protect the castleRising the walls ever higher And though no harm could come to the kingThough no … Continue reading The Great King Behing The Walls. Long Poems #1
Akretsu was defeated. The Lord of the Moon and Forger of Humanity, Amtor, had pierced Akretsu's dark heart with his blade of Stars. The darkness had fallen in the north, falling deep into the depths of the darkened mountains. Valnor had seen the flash of light above the mountains and he had been the one … Continue reading Shattering of Humanity. Jalten Short Stories #12
"Jal'es Aara... daerais jal... osol..." whispered a man, cloaked in a black cloak and dark armor. He held a strange-looking leaf on his hands, closing his eyes and kissing it with respect. He muttered his prayers over and over again. It sounded like he was crying for help. He then stood up, hiding the leaf deep … Continue reading Sir Jaroc, the light under the shadow. Jalten Short Stories #11
One more slash and the man fell. His blade sliced his chest open, leaving him coughing and crying on the ground, before fainting. Alan sheathed his blade once again and glanced around him. He gazed upon the cheering crowd and the high lords that watched him from the castle balcony. He glanced at them, bowed, … Continue reading Alan, the master duelist and House Lair. Jalten Short Stories #10
"We're done for today, Ōval," Maron said as he walked away from his throne, his legs trembling as he did. "Are you sure, your grace? I should remain by your side until the moment of your sleep," Ōval stated as he joined his king, walking out from the throne room. "I'm sure," Maron said and … Continue reading Ōval, the blade of the king and the last Charitar of the south. Jalten Short Stories #9
The wind sent waves of dust over the melancholic plains. The once green fields were now lands of corruption and death. Green had faded away and grey had taken its place. Instead of water, dark liquid flowed through the land, poisoning the very earth below. It was a wound, created thousands of years ago when … Continue reading The eastern lands and the greatest Warlord, Ukramon. Jalten Short Stories #8