Hello! I've finally got around to launching.
So, I decided to try this out and give myself somewhere else to post content. I can be fairly inactive due to how busy life gets. You might not see very much from me, or other times you might see a lot. I enjoy writing the most, but occasionally I am struck with the desire to diddle in drawing/painting. I'll put up a few snippets here and there, sometimes in my writings my characters or the plot sound similar in different stories..It is my way of brainstorming an idea but trying it out with different characters or paths.

Attached at the bottom is one of those potential ideas, with potential characters that may or may not see the light of day beyond this. I have wrote several different chapters/drafts with this idea but can't settle on anything specific. So I hope you may enjoy this a little, as it is but a little taste. 


The Valley of Mirrors.

 In the valley of Mirrors lives a woman. She is a woman who was cursed by the seven Gods of creation. Seven Gods and seven curses. Blindness cursed by Zare God of Wisdom. Barren cursed by Haella Goddess of Fertility. Beauty that surpasses all by Rhazo God of Love. Cursed with a will that is unbreakable by Thosra Goddess of Strength. Cursed with sight of the mind by Dorin God of Dreams. Cursed to be a Guardian until the end of her life by Eriath God of Protection. Lastly, cursed with immortality by the God of Eternity Atlas. And they named her the White Beast, it was no mere child that was born but a being sent from creation to simply exist.   
The valley of Mirrors is no place for mortal men – it is a place of death and sorrow. The land breathes with ash and the sun does not reach the horizon in this valley. Shadows linger here as though they are alive, withering with forgotten souls. “This is an evil place Druna, we are better off against the savages who chase us.”
Druna could feel the breath of his comrades on his neck. – They all hesitated at the edge of the forest looking out at the ghostly vision before them. The ash covered valley, it is a sacred place which no man has stepped foot for over a thousand years. “We have no choice, they will slaughter us, they will slaughter our wives, our children. They will not show any of us mercy. I pray this place will. Get everyone moving.”
Druna the now King of a destroyed kingdom stepped past the territory of trees and onto the ash lands. His foot falls sending a sigh of dust into the air as he moved forward and his people followed behind him. The sun high above them – the rays touching the forest floor in such wondrous majesty but as they entered the ash lands the sunlight did not reach the ground.

 “Do you know why they call it the valley of Mirrors? Well look… turn your head now and see that the forest is gone. Nothing but ash and despair. Mind your step and do not lose sight of the person in front of you or you will become lost.”
The wind moaned with a hum that sent chills to the bone. Druna and his people walked until the sky above them began to turn dark. “We will make camp here, no fires. Keep everyone together, we’ll keep moving in the morning.” Druna prayed that they would make it through this sacred place and into the neutral territories before their enemy catches them. There was only a handful of them remaining, a few dozen civilians and a hundred knights.

During the night a child slipped away – driven by his curiosity and the soft whispers on the wind. The further he moved away from the group the more darkness seemed to surrounded him. He became lost in the valley of Mirrors and when he turned to look back they were all gone. His heart was struck with fear but curiosity still drove him. He continued through the dark with shadows licking at his feet. He wandered and wandered but found nothing – and when he looked up to the sky he could not discern which way was up or down. Panic ensued and his tiny little heart began to flutter, his chest pulled tight and tears tumbled down his puffy cheeks. The darkness around him slithered with excitement from the child’s fear and begun to crush him in a way the child felt like he was suffocating.   
The child’s scream pierced through the night and startled the camp – everyone stirred and Druna searched frantically among them. “My son, where is my son?!” Again the scream shattered all calm and the group of survivors found them stuck in a moment of chaos. Druna turned to face the dark – turning to the direction of the scream came from.
 “Druna you mustn’t!”

But the King would not listen. “It is my son! Keep everyone together, no one moves do you understand?” Before he could get an answer Druna was sprinting into the darkness calling out for his son. “Falon! Falon where are you!” There was nothing in return to answer the king, not even another scream.
“Do not I say…do not let the darkness scare you child. Hush now. Hmm…shall we make it easier for your father to find you? Let’s make the dark go away. It is time to see the stars again.”
Stillness and the very air they all breathed ceased to be – torn from their lungs in a sudden gust and then returned to them in a much easier manner. The earth floor trembled and the ash rose in a cloud throughout the entire valley. The wind cried and carried on it’s back the soft sorrows of a people long, long forgotten. Shadow and darkness pulled away and above them the stars were shinning, the moon glowed sending down sweet illuminating rays down into the valley. Druna stopped with wide eyes, his little boy standing in the middle of the valley with a woman in a white dress who seemed to be glowing just as bright as the moon. It was awe and shock as Druna’s fear was still present.
The child stepped toward the woman and Druna could not find his voice to tell him to stop. He took her hand gazing up at her through teary blue eyes. “Are you the White Beast?” He whispered after a sniffle and she only smiled without answering she lead the child back to his father – who was to say in the least as white as a ghost.