It is done. Their memories were compiled and adequately rewritten to further fact from fiction. Did it take him long to revise his work, or did it take no moment at all? Zerathur closes his book and carefully cradles it in his arms. Every lover, every friend, every acquaintance, forever with him. None of them shall ever be forgotten. The breeze died millennia ago; The endless forest was illuminated solely by the illusionary phantoms that moved back and forth in their unending routine. ...

Perhaps the worst of it all was the sickly smell of decomposing leaves, Fletcher was never a fan of the Fall season for that very reason. Mist crept through the trees, crawling up their roots and wrapping around his legs as he made his way through the woods. He didn't mind the cold, he didn't mind the dark, those had become oh-so natural to him over the last few years. What truly bothered him was that smell, decay. The certainty that all things are one day to whither and rot. He halted by ...

// Exactly what the title says, any lore on Zera's universe that I come across when rummaging my Dreams of Lothlorien folder (Aka the one folder I keep all of my important posts, lists of important characters, replies I forgot to send, etc) will be posted here. This will be updated every once in a while I remember to do so. There will also be a couple of annotations here and there, and my grammar will be fairly deplorable because... These were originally meant to be read by me and maybe some ot...

Alone, the Chloromancer roamed the dark sea. Were those seconds, or were they entire eons passing right before his eyes? Waves crashed upon the cold hull of the steerless metallic ship, yet no matter how much it rocked, the ship would never sink. No matter how often he tried, he could not jump into the dark waters below. With his book of memories held close against his chest, Zerathur hummed songs of old, and another voice joined his chorus. Sat upon the taffrail, The Traveler examined the o...

Bellowing roars and guttural screeching from below marked the entrance of this cave as the only way into their Hive. And yet, despite the stench of blood and bone, the corruption that spreads through air and land, there was no one at the door. Not a single insectoid guarded the area, only the carpet of flesh that pulsated with a heart and mind of its own. As he trudged through the snow and stepped into this revolving putrid mass, its tendrils latched onto his hooves but were not able to stop his...

As the day turned into night, the golden city of old came to life. Orbs of light flickered into existence, illuminating the recently cleared-up streets and spires; dozens of hundreds of ghostly silhouettes roamed the plazas, parks, and suspended walkways; flags and decorations strung between buildings waved with the passing wind of the Frozen South. This wasn't Antioch as they remembered it, but they've done so much progress in the last couple of weeks that they simply could not let the opport...

"As deft as rocks swimming upstream." Words that forever marked her early teens. Spoken in these selfsame shores, back when the sand was just as golden as the city behind them; when the clear blue ocean only gave way to the white foam of the waves, the beautiful sounds of nature clashing with that of their boombox, their laughter, their taunts. They're gone now. The golden sand has turned grey, ruins lay where a great city once did. With the bay closed by the carcass of a great ship, even ...

// No, this isn't lore, but rather the sum of a series of dreams that I've been having. I still do not know how the story will end and only will when the dreams stop happening, so... Yeah, this will hopefully be updated as time passes. The apparent theme around it is horror and survival, set in Europe during the period of the second world war, although not partaking in it. Hope y'all have fun reading it. - Bunkers and trenches carve the borders of Europe, yet, the war never seems to come by. S...

This is it. To have lived thirty years with a disease such as this particular one, to have gone through all the challenges that it and life had presented... It is truly a miracle. But even after all of that, the time has come. Time to rest. The early morning sun rises just beyond the horizon, tainting the sky with light purples, blues, and oranges, making glister the dew-covered grass of the valley. This is a nice place, always has been. Energy sips out of the body slowly, trickling away...

The ocean. It doesn't want. It doesn't wait. It doesn't love. It doesn't hate. All it ever does is roll back and forth, and so it would continue until the end of time. No matter what happened, the waves would still roll up the shores then trickle back down with the constant movement of the tides. In moments of uncertainty, these thoughts were the most reassuring. Everything has changed so suddenly, so drastically, but not the ocean. The salt in the breeze, the deep blue that clashed with the ...

White clothes. Originally the symbol of Protoss who weren't born white-coated, a way to hide from the shame of not being 'physically pure' under the eyes of their society. That until Empress Arden, daughter of Great Khas, started using them in every meeting, every ceremony. Many Lorekeepers joined in an outcry, questioning her for breaking the tradition. And to those, she replied, "These are the clothes of someone who is in shame, are they not? Then I am not breaking traditions, for I am ashamed...

Ever since they moved to the proximity of the Whispering Woods, Frost Tear's parents warned her of the dangers of the forest. Never explicitly so, keep in mind, for legends and myths are perhaps one of the best ways to elicit a child's imagination. Tales of trees that walk on their own, that snatch up lost children, and poof, they are gone. On her eighth autumn, she found that trees were the least of her worries. Instead, it was they who shielded her from Fletcher's eyes. Her father took her...