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The Eternity of WindlesSpoons

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Joined: 23 Jan 2005
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Location: Scotland, UK

PostPosted: Sun Jan 23, 2005 4:48 am    Post subject: The Eternity of WindlesSpoons Reply with quote

My name is Windles Spoons, and I am a lifeaholic.

How strange, that phrase. And yet, how much stranger is the truth? I fear that I have been cursed, but by whom I cannot say. None can have the power to lay such a curse upon a soul as the one I bear. I doubt even the power of ten thousand Gods would suffice.

How many lifetimes have I seen? How many worlds? How many births and deaths? How many stories have I been a part of? Sometimes I believe I can remember them all, other times I fear I have forgotten thousands. So many memories, so many people good and true, so many heroes and villains and monsters. So much blood stains my hands, my soul. I have been villains of blackest heart, and heroes of highest virtue. I have sinned and I have saved. I have been wizard and warrior, blacksmith and farmer, soldier and priest. Son, husband, father. I have killed and been killed countless times. And never does my story end.

Only in the inky black of eternity do I remember anything of my existances. They are brief interludes of quiet between eons. Blessed quiet times, when I am thrust once more into mortal form, to be born and raised and live and die. For those lifetimes, I forget. Sweet blessed ignorance.

Names float upon my consciousness, each one awash with a blistering array of memories. Norrath. Sanctuary. Tatooine. Eventide. Krynn. Azeroth. Earth. Morrowind. Middle Earth. Hyrule. Akkarra. Akarra was one of my more recent existances. I was a wizard there, one of great power and intellect. At least, by that world's standards I was. It seems strange to me that the Gods of Akarra would allow magic to exist, and yet collar its power so tightly. On Akarra, a budding mage could spend a lifetime studying and increasing his power, and yet still be practicly defenseless if set upon by a raw young scoundrel with a sword and shield. I remember how much it frustrated me during that existance. I spent that life searching for the key to unlock the true power of magic on that world, and never found it before the end. Magic was not well received, or if I'm to be honest, a particularly practical vocation, and mages forever a second class citizen, almost always requiring the sturdy arm of a good warrior for protection. There were a few of us, towards the end, that decided we would prove to all that Magic was not worthless there. We formed a small but dedicated army of wizards, and trained them in the art of magical combat without the aid of warriors. It was not easy, and I do not think we ever reached our true potential before that existance faded. But it was satisfying, and I look back upon it with a smile. Arallu, KintaEba, Pallando, Shesuhl, my peers, the ruling council of the Unseen University, of Lore. Key players in the quest to prove magic had its place. Other names tumble through my consciousness. Fizzle, some kind of magic Savant whos intellect far exceeded his experience. Gape, crazy crazy Gape, an idiot whos stupidity led to the repeated deaths of many. Enquillion, mysterious and powerful, offering support but remaining apart. Kestion... someone that for all my intellect on that world, I never trully figured out. Budman, arrogance pesonified. So many other names come and go, as always when I remember a specific existance. With the names come places. I remember firing lightning bolts from horseback in Sanled forest, always trying to stay one step ahead of the undead that haunted the place. Sharindar's Tower, and the wicked Render of Flesh that occupied the top floor. Wraith Woods and its whordes of Darklings. Viom, terrorised by Bagarogs. Eastern Gate, the meatgrinder proving ground of Akarra. I imagine that place claimed more lives than any other on that world. So many places. Literally, a lifetime of memories.

Something changes. When you exist forever, any change is worthy of note. But this is a change I've felt before. Soon it will be time for another life. What will this one bring, I wonder? A world appears on the edge of my consciousness. I wait patiently for it to come closer. I find myself hoping that this will be the last one, that I will awake on this strange new world with my memories intact, and ascertain what keeps me coming back, what it is that wont let me rest. If I can find the answer, maybe I can find my end. How I long for that end.

Years pass as I wait, the planet slowly filling my consciousness as I tumble inexorably toward it. What will I be on this world? Will it be another world of swords and magic? Or one of technology? Will I be someone of importance, or an average citizen, trying to make his way? Will I be good, or evil? Will I make a difference? A word suddenly exists. Daria. Is this what this planet is called? Is this what my name will be upon it? Is this a city on this planet? A person? An animal? A single word by itself could be anything, or it could be nothing. I cannot know until the life is over, until I am once more floating throughout eternity, and my memories return.

Perhaps this time it will be different. Perhaps this will be the final life. Perhaps after this I can finally rest.

Daria. Whatever it means, whatever it signifies, it will soon be upon me. I hope it's the last.

Alone, eternal, I await my birth.
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Location: Sweden

PostPosted: Sun Jan 23, 2005 12:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

heh, thats decent writing!
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PostPosted: Sun Jan 23, 2005 4:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nicely done! Very well written and thought out. I think it's a nice ode to the past.
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