Knife2theSky

Radiating warmth With giving that knows no bounds Feeling only its love Torn away by force A victim of betrayal All it loved taken Cold and unfeeling Never to be rebroken Transformed into stone

Forged from the earth No two alike One for defense The other meant to strike Created for destruction Rending life asunder Caring not for its victims Only for its plunder Tempered for protection Immovable bulwarks Turning back all threats Defending those with its heart Inevitably, their paths cross Rivalry begins Eternal conflict rises Until both meet their end Unending blades of fury rain downward Waiting for their foe to flinch Who deflect and shield with their honor Never giving an inch

RISE From the sulfur and ash RISE You must continue on your path RISE Tortured and bruised RISE Broken and abused RISE Calm the intoxicating rage RISE Escape your mind's cage RISE Cast away your shame RISE Through the fire and flames RISE No matter the cost RISE Before the chance is lost RISE Let the smoke clear RISE Let go of your fear RISE Out of the pyre RISE Embrace your desire RISE Free yourself from the crushing black RISE Remove the knives of betrayal from your back RISE Escape from the earth RISE A blazing rebirth RISE You mustn't forget RISE You're not done yet RISE Take in the light of the su

          A chime sounded at the door of the interrogation chamber. Tyndr Zitka, a human male in his early thirties, sat behind a durasteel table. He was clad in armor similar to that of the guards, except for a brilliant blue tunic that he wore beneath it. The royal blue showed through the armor, giving Tyndr a much more grand appearance than the typical Ayndrian guards, who typically wore black tunics beneath their armor. Tyndr also wore the same helmet as the guards, however, his was gold as opposed to the typical black.          Color signified rank among the guard as well as the Zitka themselves. Although guards' armor was black, those

          It was the blinding sight of the sun's rays that woke Senator Kort from his sleep as it crept through the narrow viewport on the wall across from him in his prison cell. It was the only window in the small, permacrete room. Kort squinted against the morning light. As abrupt as it may have been, the Rusan Senator found it to be a rather pleasant way to be woken.          The cell he was imprisoned in was rather bland. From what he could tell, all four walls of the square room, as well as the floor and ceiling, were made of permacrete and were not painted or otherwise decorated in any fashion, not that he would expect a jail cell to