E is for Emma

Your Name Is Emma but you don’t always remember Haunted by the smell of coffee Just as you haunted the cafe outside where you died Unable to accomplish half of what you dreamed Envying the simple actions of the living you took for granted Soul Takers wait in reflections, tap on doors, sniffing your trail Hungry to add you to their growing collection Your only hope is the love you wronged As she struggles to overcome painful memories of you Tormented by a guilt she should feel Her guilt gives you a certain petty satisfaction Sometimes malice keeps you sharper than regret or love The sharp emotions help you to hold on You’re not sure if there’s anything to move onto Trying to solve the riddle of your existence How easily how life was snuffed out How much you took for granted You cling to the hope of closure Of accomplishing something in your insubstantial state What was once petty now feels crucial You never appreciate something until it’s gone You long to let go of your regret To resolve what remains to be resolved To make some meaning out of what you are Before your fragile form fades The ghost of you slipping away with all the rest.

D is for Danyel and Dyvian, Not Tayel

Shadows spreads to envelop my blog. Danyel stands, small and fragile-looking, but one of his hands glows with a warm green energy. Tayel is at his side, his exact likeness, a slight androgynous boy with a head of touseled silvery golden waves. Violet-blue eyes too big for a face just like Danyel’s glare back at the darkness, only Tayel are filled with silvery light.

Danyel: No, he’s no longer called Dayel. Our scribbler changed his name so readers wouldn’t have as hard a time telling our names apart. That doesn’t mean he has to leave.

Tayel: A single letter shifts yet not my purpose.

The darkness swirls like a whirlwind in slow motion only to dissolve and part, revealing Dyvian standing in the center. Dressed in a black velvet tunic and trousers with a ruby ring upon his fingers. Moon-pale hair caught back with a little dark ribbon, revealing high cheekbones, a generous mouth, and coldly prismatic eyes flashing with bits of color which are muted, diminished as they swim in his irises.

Dyvian: What is purpose in the face of the darkness? Don’t you long for the shadows’ embrace? Thrilling you, terrifying you? Can’t you feel their power? For I have always been the ally of a god, little ones, even when I was first conceived.

Danyel: Seraphix isn’t a god. Not yet. There’s some question whether Their original self, Serphamis was truly the God of Balance. Even if you were Their Voice, Their Vampyre.

Tayel: Names changes yet motivations remain, even when they’re obscured.

Dyvian: (smiling) Be very grateful that’s not true, little one, considering what the Vampyre planned to do to both of you.

For a moment he leers, seeming to sprout fangs, eyes turning blood red. Danyel and Tayel shrink back.

Dyvian: Be glad my intentions toward you are far less dark in Tales of the Navel.

Tayel: Less depraved, no less dark.

Dyvian: You are certainly darker, little Tayel. Even before your name changed, you were changing.

Danyel: (stepping slightly in front of his twin) Tayel has never been dark, even if he scares us at times. I already said why our scribbler changed his name from Dayel to Tayel. She was just trying to be considerate and so is Tayel! He may have secrets, but he keeps them because he’s tryig to protect the rest of us.

Tayel: (looking away) Consideration has seldom been my concern. Clarity and closeness are. Only the dark see darkness in others.

Dyvian: You could be speaking of yourself, little one as much as I. The truth is you are no longer the same any more than you belong with the letter D.

Tayel: (glowering at Dyvian. No matter what your eye seeks, no matter what your Voice calls for, or how often you grab for the bright innocence nearby, I shall stand in your way.

Dyvian: Mine wasn’t the seeking eye, nor the grabbing hand. We’re drifting from our topic, my dears, which is our origins. Two roleplaying games or interactives stories where I hunted you in the name of my god.

Danyel: Only now we’re in Tales of the Navel, a series of stories which may not be ours, even if we are major characters in it.

Tayel: Born from shadows, we could not replace that shadow. Once more he rises to eclipse us.

Dyvian: How prettily you put it. Alas, it’s not my shadow you speak of.

Danyel: It’s not that pretty, what we’re saying. Nor is it fair. We stole Christopher’s story from him.

Tayel: (letting out a low growl) No. He gave his story to us. We’re his creations, moving to his purpose.

Danyel: Why do you always speak as if Christopher was up to no good? It’s not that simple.

Dyvian: No, it isn’t. Not with Christopher. Not with me. Too often you forget this when it’s me.

Tayel: Forgetfulness is a bliss offered to those more fortunate.

Danyel: We forget nothing. Just because you’re no longer a vampyre coming after us doesn’t mean you’re not coming after us.

Tayel: Strike against what we hold dear and you’ve offered a challenge we cannot turn away from.

Dyvian: How possessively you speak of a man who isn’t truly your brother. You presume a great deal, wrongly, if you think my love for Leiwell is any less than yours.

Tayel: Your love drains the will and blinds conviction.

Danyel: You play the devil with him. You’re trying to tempt Leiwell with something, lure him away from us.

Dyvian: Well, well. How gratifying to learn you are as jealous of me as I am of you. In past incarnations, Leiwell always betrayed me for your sakes. What do you think he’ll do this time, hmm?

Danyel: He’ll do what he feels is right. He always does.

Tayel doesn’t answer.

Dyvian: Will he? And just what is right? What does he think is right?

Danyel: (crossing his arms and glowering right back at him) What do you?

Tayel: Righteousness is blind. The heart tries to see what is obscured by feeling.

Dyvian: Often I believed I was doing the right thing. What my god wished.

Danyel: Did you?

Tayel: Justifying depravity in the name of right is a mere veil you wrap around your eyes.

Dyvian: While you see more than you ever wished to. Tell me, little one, do you believe in Leiwell as much as your more innocent twin? Do you have faith in him?

Tayel doesn’t answer.

Danyel: Tayel?

Tayel won’t look at his brother.

Dyvian: (softly) Some things never change. No matter what incarnation we’re in. This is why you cannot hold onto Leiwell.

Danyel: (turning on him with an almost savage fury, the glow in his hand fierce) I can. Can you?

Tayel: Everthing shifts and changes including our faith and our grip.

Dyvian: Fine. (spreading his cloak) We’ll see whose is stronger and tighter.

The three end gazing at each other as the mists come between them, the darkness swallowing Dyvian while the gray fog claims Danyel and Tayel. The twins grip each other hands tightly before they disappear.

C is for Caerac

Someone is knocking on your tomb Someone is ressurecting your old bones Can’t these younglings let you rest in peace? They’ve got no respect for their elders or former adventurers All you had to fight for, all that built the Keep you enjoy A fortress of walls keeping out the monsters you fought Now there’s Trouble at Caearac Keep and the monsters won’t stay away You never protected anyone, you were one of the monsters Bashing goblins’s heads in and stealing their treasure Just what were you doing in the dungeon any way? Goblins and kobolds have rights too They were only protecting themselves from greedy invaders Goblins and kobolds may have rights but not the undead The righteous young cleric with the bloody hand made that quite clear You’d better not tell her all of your secrets She’s listening to far more than she can handle from your lost time Those boys adding their energy to hers are all the more confusing They have an air which reminds you far too much of Corwyth The dread vampire everyone fears has risen You remember when he was a cleric himself, a righteous idealist Oh, the tales you could tell them, making their hair fall out Your own hair is long gone along with your life You’d much rather rest in peace.

B is for Briar

The Fairest of them all You’re what she seeks but cannot bear to see Her back turned to you, eyes locked with her own reflection’s You’d like to blame her magic, your father for taking her away The Queen chose to accept them, she chose to be Queen She turned away from you yet refused to let you go You ran away from the monster in her What a shriveled, sour thing her love became You found a refuge from her, a home, a life with seven dwarves A father like none you’d ever had in Quartz Work takes you out and away from yourself You keep your hands moving, you keep your hands busy You never allow yourself to stop and hurt She was the one who stopped you. You tried to hide, to be safe and small Her passion and vanity were too great, her love too small She couldn’t let you be, she wrapped you in darkness Trapped you within the sleeping curse Lonely, angry, you let her darkness in You’d already lost your safe little life You abandoned safety, gave yourself up to the dream Let the magic come, let it shape your pain You selected a companion, one you wouldn’t allow to escape You trapped her with in the curse as well, your beloved victim Only your chosen one refused to be a victim She refused to turn away from you as the Queen had Even if you were the briar in her rose, pricking at breast She holds you close and refuses to let go Soothing the savage loneliness that beat within you.

A is for Amberwyne

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Getting Ready to Blog From AZ...

Tayel: Scribblers have a way of disappearing when blogs become difficult. Our scribbler vanished from this Formerly Forbidden Cauldron. All her Wednesday stories shifted to the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration at inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com . The waters of this Cauldron will flow again in April to celebrate #BloggingFromAZAprilProject. Danyel and I will be part of that flow, trapped with Dyvian. Others will appear along with us. Our scribbler has a poem for us all, for her April theme is Character Poems. Come and see what she has to offer when the time comes...

Can I Post?

Well, what a surprise. The Formerly Forbidden Cauldron is mine again. With my updated operating system, I find I can post here once more. What shall I do with this Cauldron? I've already moved my weekly stories and posts to the Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration at inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com. Perhaps I can use this place for guests rather than my livejournal at cauldronkeeper.livejournal.com? I think this Cauldron shall be a place of monthly updates, monthly snippets and blurby expressions of what I'm up to. Here's a little taste of something I've working on to celebrate this Cauldron's rebirth... “Leiwell, my Leiwell.” He buried his face in the younger man’s hair, tasting his brow with eager lips. “I have starved for you and the Shadow Forest has starved along with me.” “Starve no more.” Leiwell bared his neck, dropping to his knees before his master. “Feed until you are satiated.” Dyvian lay a hand upon his forehead but it was only a touch. “I can’t. Your brothers were right, Leiwell. You must be allowed to recover your vitality.”