The Color of the Sky

Princess Sage!

Okay I was bored and a little tired of hearing about the royal wedding so I got to thinking what would happen if Sage decided to be royalty. *big smile*
I give you Princess Sage of Rosharan . . . .
(this takes place two weeks before the beginning of Autumn's Change.enjoy!)

“happy birthday!” Mae and Autumn sat down the cake in front of the youngest Moongood. She beamed up at all of them from her large chair aka herself dubbed throne. Her round face turned solemn in that second.

“What’s wrong with her?” Autumn leaned in to whisper to Mae. She shrugged.

“Beside her being Sage?”

Autumn bit her lip, she loved Sage being Sage when she wasn’t directing her Sageness on her.

“Sage. . .” Alanna leered at her friend. That wasn’t the voice of happiness. It was warning. Alli sat on a smaller throne to Sage’s left, she had been dubbed a duchess upon entering the palace. A little tiara was placed on her head and everything. It was all madness and hysteria also known as Sage’s seventh birthday party.

“I do with solemness thank you my people and subjects for this day.” Mae groan hitting her head with her fist. Aiden coughed.

Autumn blinked looking around, there wasn’t anyone around but her, the twins, Alanna, and the Moongoods. “Who wrote that for her.”

“Silence of my court!” the newly seven year old shouted to her make believe subjects. Luna just stared her finger pressing into the counter. “I as your princess say. . .let us eat cake!”

“Mary Antoinette said that before they beheaded her.” Mae mussed. “Her subjects overthrew and offed with her head.” “I don’t think Luna will let you behead her baby.” Autumn pointed out picking up Zane before he got into one of his tantrums.

“I don’t want to behead her, just push her face into the cake.” Mae’s smile turned brilliant. “It is my dream in life.”

“You sure shoot for the stars.”

“No, I shoot for the moon, that way I land somewhere in between.” Autumn assumed that meant a cake fight. “Hmm.” Sounded messy. “Where is Ciaran?”

“Probably in the dungeon. She never did really like him. He was first in line for the throne.”

Sage clapped her hands together. “Where is my royal jester?”

They looked at each other in confusion. “Jester?” Aiden asked casually.

Sage smiled bright for him alone. “You’ll love it daddy. He practiced so hard.” She clapped her hands again. “Laughsalot my court is waiting!”

The sound of feet clinking on the floor turned all their heads towards the door. They were attached to legs dressed in rainbow colored boxers, tye dye t shirt. Unnaturally colored hair and face paint. A strangled noise came from Mae. “My god, are you dying?” Autumn nudged the other girl.

“No but Ciaran needs someone to shoot him and put him out his misery.” Autumn shrugged. What could she say. Mae was so right. It was too painful to watch but Autumn couldn’t look away.

“Excuse me.” Autumn thought it was too much for Aiden to watch his only son like this as he walked out. She felt bad for the man until he returned with a video camera. Sage sat tall in her “Throne.”

Autumn tilted her head. It was hard to believe she had the face of an angel and the mind of a assassin. “Dance.” She commanded. “It will please me.” .

“Sage come-“

“DANCE!” She screamed reaching octaves Autumn had never heard. No one could look at eachother. If they did they would all dissolve. Ciaran started a jig that had to be some form of river dance. Everyone clapped when he was done. But Sage. “I’m bored.”

Clenched teeth. “Eat cake.”

“I DON”T WANT TO EAT CAKE!” Alanna coughed looking at Autumn for help. Autumn shrugged. There was no way she was taking on Princess Sage, not even to save a friend because that was the law in the circle of life. Amen.

“Then what-“ his eyes widen. “Oh, no Sage. I am not going to do that. NO!”
Crossing her arms she glared at him. “IT’s the day of my royal birth. I want you to do it!”


Her face turned redder than her hair. “OFF WITH HIS-“
Autumn snickered. Until he moved toward her.

“Lady,will you play with me.”

Glaring. “No.” she would not.

“PLAY WITH MY JESTER!” Sage lean back a smile on those ruthless lips. “It shall please me.”

Ciaran tugged her had pulling her towards the center of the den. He kneel down on one knee pulling her onto it. Autumn frown. She didn’t understand.

“Answer me a riddle, one riddle and you can ask me anything if you are correct. If you are wrong I can have one thing in return.” Her eyes narrowed but nodded.

“This creature is odd, its habits unaccountable. It sings through its sides. Its neck is curved, skilfully carved, and above its back it has pointed shoulders. It plays its fated part as, gracefully, it stands by the roadside, high and handsome, useful to men.”

Autumn bit her lip. Reciting it back to him.”Does she actually understand what you just said.”

He lean forward into his ear. “Nah, she just likes the talk.”

“No. cheating!” They both glare at the princess of the day. "It is the rule of royalty!"

“a instrument.” It sings.

“Close m’lady but it was an all bets riddle. You. Lose.” He tapped her nose. Sage and Alli clapped their hands. Everyone else snickered. “Valient try fair maiden, not clever enough-“

“Shut up and tell me what you want.”

“The kiss of a princess.”

Autumn blinked. “Your sister is over there.” Mae snickered.

Will post pt 2 of Sage’s Royal Birthday ASAP

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My Bleeding Heart
I'm going through a phase right now. I have written multiple stories. They need work and everything, the are works in progress probably 89. 9999 percent done. Every time I work up the courage to send one in a new book comes out with my idea plastered all over it. It is so frustrating and irritating to have it done over and over again. I think I am going to stop posting my stories. . .no I am not because I love to write and I love for them to be read. Maybe I just won't post all of them So I decided now would be as good a time as any to make a promise to send at least two of my works in to see if they are any good or if I need to stop while I have an ounce of pride in me.

That is the thing when it comes to writing I bleed out my pride. Writing is my need. My addiction. It is my voice, it is my love. I love writing. Reading is a balm to my soul. Reading lets me know that I am not alone in thinking of the impossible. That is why I can't stop doing either because they are to enterwined in my life for me to just cut them out, I would bleed to death. Only four different kinds of people know true pain; Jesus dying for our sins, Troops dying for our country, Mothers giving birth to the world, and writers dying inside from an untold story.


This is not a post saying that you should or you shouldn't commit suicide, this is not anything for someone to take personally, or to heart. This should not persuade or dissuade someone to from their choice. Just me ranting and rambling about something that my professor said that has been annoying me.

Despite what some believe, saying that you are going to commit suicide is not a cry for attention. It is not just because you are sad or angry. It is not just because you are scared. You feel trapped with no options until you just stop caring. Cracks and lines form along you until you just feel broken, useless unsure and a lot more. People say that you always have a choice, well they are right. Suicide is an option open to be pursued by all. Before anyone can judge a person for being suicidal they should take a step back and think before they open their mouth. Their words could be the ones that send someone over the edge.
 Being suicidal is a feeling that no one can relate to unless they have felt it too. Really felt it, I don't mean like. I want to show everyone I'm hardcore and don't give a damn about my life. No, that isn't what it is. Suicidal is feeling so alone than you believe that no one gives a damn about you. You can be in a room full of people who love you and still feel like you are on the outside looking in at all these strangers. You can love them, hate them, not give a crap about them, they can be your everything and you still feel alone. You can feel trapped, scared, you can be hurt so bad that it isn't just physical. It is mental. Some one or some people have hurt you so badly that you feel trapped in your own self you need to get away. That is the only way that relieves the pain in your soul. It is something that you feel you need to do that will make everything better.

There are all these different way the public characterize individuals who are serious and those who aren't. For instants, if you walk across the street and not across, it is a cry for attention. Please, have you ever cut yourself with a knife? A butcher knife or steak knife? What about a razor blade?  It isn't pretty is a polite way to put it.

Yes down the street is a quick more assured way but to each his own right? Walking across the street just takes longer. Very messy.

Another misconception is that if you are serious then you start withdrawing, giving away your things, not caring about your life as much as you use to. That isn't true, you can be your normal self. Happier at times, knowing that it is all going to end soon. You won't have to worry about anything anymore. What does it matter who gets your stuff, they can have it. The plotting person can act no different from usual, they can go about life. They can get a promotion at their job, get an A on their finals. They can do something so amazing or so normally them. No one could truly know what they are planning.

A person saying that they are going to commit suicide is not always a cry for attention! I'm not going to lie, there are those who believe that "Hey this is cool, I'm going to cut myself and walk around with toothpick scratches." and junk. There are those who walk around like "Oh, I'm depressed and look at me, LOOK AT ME!" they want attention. That is them, some one who is serious could care less about the attention they are getting. If they have truly made up their mind, there had better be some divine intervention going on because there are too many layers of emotions walled around them. One person has little hope of stopping them.

Just because you haven't committed suicide doesn't mean you are a coward. It means that you are strong and fighting demons everyday. It becomes like a tempting beacon to make all the pain end. It is a promise of relief that, when you stop truly giving a damn about everything is so easy to commit. To those who have commit suicide, I hope that you have found that peace you have been seeking. If anyone calls you a coward for leaving the living then it doesn't matter because they don't understand. No one truly ever does.

Bound by Betrayal: Chapter One: City Burning

The palace was burning, the closer they got the hotter the heat radiated upon her skin. It burned in her veins. It wasn't just palace stood in the distances obscured from sight by the haze and smoke. It was all of Median, all of it! The city was on fire. What happen? Rikash hadn't been gone so long. Had he?

"Oh Goddess." Mel murmured under her breath sending up prayer after prayer. The streets were full of people. The air was strangled with shouting, crying. Prayers ringing up to the Gods. Curses to the Gods. Despair and Panic ran deep in the air, despair panic and loss.

"Put your veil on." Rikash moved to help her, scooting his horse closer to hers, helping her to hide all her black hair and most of her face. Rikash ripped his shirt putting it to his nose.

The sound of crumbling timber ripped over the roar of people startling Mel's horse. She barely noticed Rikash take hold of her reigns. She didn't notice anything beyond the house before her crumbling in on itself. Story after story until it hit the ground with a cracking thump. More people screamed around them.

"Rikash." Mel licked her lips, they were too dry. "We have to help."

Rikash said nothing, just handed her back her reigns. His mouth open as a shrill scream ripped through the air.

"HELP!" a dark figure ran from the smoke out of a burning house. "Klever! Klever!"

"Mel!" Rikash called after her. Mel was off her horse and running toward the small figure. She was taller than Mel but couldn't be so much older. That didn't matter, Mel took on look at the woman's desperate brown eyes and burned clothes and knew she had to help.

"What's wrong?" Mel came closer, slowly. The woman already smelled of smoke and fear, like everything else. "Can I help?"
"My son!"

Mel's heart sank. Don't let the boy still be in that house, don't let him be in these mad streets. There would be no telling how many people were trampled in this chaos.

"I thought- he ran out the house. He's still-" her eyes widen and looked up at the same moment two hands rested on her shoulders. Then they were gone and a tall figure was running into the blazes that were reducing the house into less than kindle. Mel was left with the worried mother.

"What is your name?" Mel grabbed the woman’s hand pulling her towards the horses and out of the streets main chaos.

"Flora." she wouldn't take her eyes off the house.

Neither could Mel but she had to ask, had to know. "Flora, what happen here?" all over.

"Unrest." Flora ducked her head away, her eyes darting frantically towards the house and back to Mel now. Mel's muscled bunched, she was dead weary but she would stop this woman before she killed herself.

"We aren't to speak of it." Her voice got lower. "It's treason but- there are bad things working here."

"Such as?" Mel could hardly breathe. what bad things? Tell me, please?

"The King has abandon the throne, our Lady has left us-" Her body trembled. "There is talk that the Gods. . ."

Mel didn't like the sound of this anymore. She had to know more. "The Gods are apart of this?"

"They are going to forsake us, until we accept the new-"
"New!" new what? King? Surly not. "Who?"

"I know not." Flora wouldn't meet her eye. Of course she knew.

Mel looked around at all the screaming people. Not a single eye was dry, the smoke was working. Her own eyes were blurring with the stuff. That second of wiping her eyes cost her. Flora moved and Mel was a second behind her. A tightly coiled spring, tackling the racing mother to the ground. They rolled in the dirt.

"Don't be stupid." Mel hissed at the whimpering woman. "Run for that house again and I will bind you to my horse."

"But. . ." the words died on Flora's lips. Mel wasn't joking. She was worried too. He hadn't come out yet, why hadn't Rikash come back?

He hadn't been sleeping well on the road he refused to do more than take a quick nap and that was only when Mel bullied him. He had been pushing it to reach Median, but still. He should be out by now.

The house on the other side of the one Rikash rushed in caved in next. Floor by floor it stacked on each other. Flora cried but didn't move. It was the silent kind not the wide spread of panic that was roaring around them.

Mel couldn’t' take it. There had to be a way to stop all this. Stop Median from burning. Desperate Mel sought her magick. Rikash swore when she needed it she would be able to use it. That it would return to her eventually. She needed it. There wasn't a promise she wouldn't make the Gods not to sop all of this.

Ins side she recoiled, don't promise that. Never promise something to a God, they might just take you up on your word. If you were really unfortunate they would bind you to it. Gods are fickle and mortals are seen as expendable.

Still, Mel dug into herself, searching for an long lost old friend. When she found it, they embraced in the furthest reaches of her mind, a place she would have never went unless she was truly desperate. If she hadn't truly been looking for it, her magick would have stayed out of her reach for a while longer. Now that she had it back, washing over her, caressing her heart with the truth. It was so faint but it could be enough. Mel dared to hope.

She had no magick over elements. She wasn't a fool to think she could put this out with her own magick, She wasn't that strong. A whole troop of mages could possibly put out the blazes of a city.

Around her and in her head the chaos reign. Mel pushed it away, she had to be calm. Clear in the head. She wasn't a great Mage like Mican, her brother of the law, but she was a Truth Teller.

Mel bit her lip. It had worked miracles before, it could work again. Mel open her mouth, she was about to find out.

"A Great Fire is blazing in Median, my city." her nose tickled with the truth. Her home was on fire. Blowing out a breath Mel continued. "It shall died away . . .now."

A great gust of wind brought Mel to her knees on top of Flora who was still sobbing. Mel shielded her against the roaring winds wishing the screaming around her was just a bad dream. It hadn't worked, the wind was going to blow the fire even further, out of the city limits and now Mel didn't even have her magick to protect her.

She hadn't felt it at first, not until she was lying on the ground over Flora gasping for a clean breath. She felt the ripping tearing through her gut and up into her chest with sharp hot pricks that had her eyes tearing up. It hurt! Dear Goddess it hurt!
She hadn't hurt this bad since the last time she had over extended her magick in Krad.

Thumps echoed around her, pounding into her ears. Plop after plop, words rang through the air breaking through Mel's haze.

"Goddess bless!" someone shouted. "Miracle!" Screamed another. Mel looked up, the sky was black and gray. Ashen, there was not a tinge of orange glow in sight. Not a sight of pink or a spot of red. There was no crackling to be heard in the dead of the silence taking over the city. A ghost had descended Mel thought before the roars rang in the air and into her ears.

"Momma!" Mel flew, onto the ground. "Momma." Flora was running toward a slight figure quickly advancing.

"Klever!" Mother and son clashed in an embrace. The child was young, Mel guess when she saw his feet leave the ground. No more than five winters. He was being rocked back and forth in his mother's arms both of them were crying. Hysterical yapping told Mel there was puppy involved.

"Princess?" she had never been more pleased to hear that voice. "What are you doing on the ground?"

Enjoying the smell of soot and dirt. Mel worked her mouth to say but nothing came out. She was too tired. "I-" she didn't have to finish, there were too many voice to be heard through.

"We are being blessed!" cried a man. "Gods be praised." they all yelled. Mel realized that the plopping she had heard was really the sound of bodies falling to their knees.

"Another attack-"

"What happen?" it took Mel a second to realize that she was being spoken to.

"I- what? "she asked as he hauled her to her feet. He seemed bemused by the whole thing. Only Mel knew that really this had scared him shitless.

"Mel, was this your doing?"

Mel snorted, why would she set Median ablaze?

"Did you put the fire out?" the world spun leaving Mel to wish that he had left her on the ground where nothing had been moving.

"I-" maybe. She wasn't sure. Mel shook her head feeling stupid and muggy headed.

"That must be a yes." Rikash hugged her tighter righting her veil. People around them were moving quickly now. Mel had a feeling that the temples would be busy tonight. All of them.

Rikash must have been thinking along the same lines. He turned to the mother and son. "You and yours need to head for the Mother Temple, take all that you need and value." Looting would be heavy tonight. "Go." Flora was already nodding clutching her son who was strangling the puppy.

"Thank-" Rikash waved her off. The three of them ran towards the direction of the temples without a backwards glance.

"Now." He adjusted Mel again. "Lets go."
"Not to the palace." Mel's words were slurred. She hadn't drank since the night of her binding, not heavily at least. She shouldn't sound like she was drunk. "We can't-"

"Yes-" he persisted. "We ca-"
"No!" Mel clutched his sleeve. The thought of stepping foot back in those walls tonight made her skin crawl. Something was happening, they needed to find out exactly what before they barged back into the palace.

Rikash looked down at her fist clutching his sleeve. Couldn't he see how worried she was? Terrified was more like it. "Alright." he finally gave in. "Okay, we'll go to the Guild."
Mel let out a sigh and slump. She didn't remember falling but she knew that Rikash was there to catch her.
Happy Halloween!!


Today, I sat and did almost nothing. I did a whole lot of things that summed up to be nothing. Except homework but I don't feel that that counts. But what I did Saturday so makes up for my day of doing nothing. We have a new edition to our family.

her name is Sydeny Monroe, we adopted her from the ASPCA. She is shy and sweet, hasn't gotten her legs under her yet but oh boy when she does. Everyone is really excited to have her home, even Sam, our five year old dog.

Riding on Trains with Stalkers!

I love riding the train to school, sometimes it is my favorite part of the day. You see so many interesting people! It is fascinating until they start having a fascination with you. . .that's when the problems begin.
It really doesn't bug me to be glanced over and for people to do a double take. I mean I'm tall, people stare. It's just when they keep on staring that I have a problem. Like this Asian man, sweet and elderly type. He a little away from me on the train, took one look and it was like I was a magnet to his eyes. He wouldn't look out the window or away! Not even when other people began to look at him weird, so it wasn't just me being "self-centered." Creepy.

There are five stops before I reach my car, every stop this man I swear gets up and moves a seat closer until he is sitting across from me. Ack!

He dosen't speak, doesn't say a word in English, in Chinese or anything! He just starts breathing really hard and making me wish I was anywhere but where I was sitting. My head phones are blasting music in my ears and I could still hear him trying to breathe.  The train stopped and I couldn't get off quick enough. He didn't follow but I bumped into a guy who saw the whole thing.

Guy I bumped into: "That guy is stalking you."

Looking over my shoulder Me: "Really, you think? What gave him away?"

Shrugging Guy: "The heavy breathing. Sounded like a exhaust pipe."

Me: "Oh."

Guy: "Do you usually pick up stalkers?"

Me. "I don't know you tell me?"

Puzzled Guy. "How would I be able to tell you?"

Reaching for my keys. "Because you followed me to my car."

Guy. "Oh."
we both laughed. This is for the stalker guy. Thank you!

The Color of the Sky from the Island State
This summer I went to Hawaii. You have truly never seen the sky until you have seen it from their. One day I shall return to the land of coconuts and pineapples. Until then I will just dream of the sunsets and sunsets that belonged to one of the most perfect vactions I have ever been on. If you don't go for the view, go because there ae a lot of hot guys walking around in shorts. =)

It was a small two way discussion but it was still a good discussion anyway. Why do women feel the need to rush into a relationship? Is it because they believe in fate? That one special and only? Do they believe in love at first sight? Is their biological clock ticking? Or is it some crazy combination of all the above? hmmmm. . .curious.

I got to thinking about that. . .I mean I really sat down and thought about it. Why? Honestly, I don't understand it all myself. Why do we feel like we have to rush into relationships? Why don't we say what we mean? Why wait for the man to say "I love you." first?

Why is our society headed in the direction of making everything about wedding designs and cakes and marriage? I don't understand that either. What is the big to do about getting married? I'm not even going to touch that subject right now. Lets talk about love& relationships. That is big enough.

As you can see (read), I am a big puddle of questions so I answered them all for myself. We as women rush into relationships, that being some women not all of us. We want to be swept off our feet. We go into it praying that he will be the one to give use if not a fairy tale in then some form of stable happily ever after. Deep down every woman wants that man that will except her for her silliness, her craziness, sweetness, for her OCD tendencies. Every one wants a soul mate who sees them as imperfectly perfect.

That being said, we hide our feelings. We give mixed signals to this poor guy about what we want.

We want him to be "the one" but we don't want to tell him. Lord forbid we don't want to scare him away with our crazy happy ever after thoughts. Poor him, poor us.

Maybe it would be a lot different if we said I love you first, or at least let him know that you are interested, really interested. Kisses and hugs, touching I guess for some guys it isn't enough. They can be like puppies sometimes (no offense), they need assurance.
Tell them straight, not outright but clear. Tell him to tell you straight. Lets face it. Women we like to hear things. That we look pretty, even if we are wearing sweats. That we smell good when we know the last thing we put on was coco butter lotion. We want to hear that they like the sound of our voice, when we aren't talking them to death. We want to hear that we are special to them, that is it. Simply put, we want to hear that we are special. That we matter, even if they make us feel that way. It is still nice to hear it.

Remember hearts are often broken from words left unspoken.

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