Member-only story
The Weilder’s Stone
Chapter 1: Whispers from the Past
Memories of the past drift in, mostly feelings; the energy of love intertwined with pain. Never a moment of peace even while pretending to be at peace.
A war zone of internal torment, yearning, screaming to be free. A constant battle of the mind versus the heart. An egotistical desire to be a part of the masses while the whimsical tales of my soul burn for more.
Was I created to travel this realm alone? To mentally feel left on a deserted island, jilted, and separated?
A reel of past lives, old-world tales, and hidden knowledge. I see them clearly but the secret of my century-old past must remain within the confines of my mind for this land will shackle me between walls of very little light and force me to overdose on synthetic droplets infused with sedation.
I guzzle down the last few ounces of bourbon in my glass and view the lands from the window of my Louisiana apartment as droplets of grey rain tap the pane and drizzle traces of whispers. I pondered and before I realized a low voice protruded from my throat.
“I wish”
The words began but I dare not finish its request.
Wishes are tiny little buggers; mischievous and diabolical. They twist the words of a man only to produce something more…