Topic: #loregang

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...

It’s hard to talk about the relationship between my father and I. Mostly because I never felt like there was one to begin with. I have conflicting memories of him, sometimes he was there but most of the time he was a background figure who happened to inhabit the same home as us. I remember him pacing around the house and sitting at his big majestic leather chair at the study, always scheming. The garage was filled with his old guitars and drum sets which he liked to polish and play from time to ...

“Still…. It just doesn’t make sense.” “…What doesn’t make sense?” I ask incredulous. “The… you know… that whole acting thing…” “That whole acting thing?” I respond with a bit of a scoff. Truth be told she caught me off guard. It was at this point that I had stopped looking at the stars in the sky and I turned to look at her, Heather. My best friend since… well… since grade school. ...

Part 1: https://canterlotavenue.com/blog/1210/a-mothers-love/ Part 2: https://canterlotavenue.com/blog/1230/a-daughters-ire/ Spirit didn’t know how long she’d run for. She ran down the sloped streets of Canterlot. She sprinted until her legs burned and her lungs strained with the effort of keeping up with her breaths. The world was blurry around her, the tears in her eyes turning the lamps in the street into vague smudges of color. The cobblestone underneath her hooves gave way to the the ...

// Decided to look into my unpublished lore posts and found this. Did some rework, but I haven't written something propper in a while, so bear with me. Very short one as well, which is good. "Those that close themselves off are the ones in the most need of affection." The chloromancer read out loud, the dull blue eyes focusing on those words. He stared at them for a while before setting the book over the desk and pushing it aside. "Huh. Any thoughts, darling?" He asked, the focus shifting ove...

Alone. Weeks go by with the blink of an eye, months fly on the other side of the closed window just as quickly as the swooping birds. Yet nothing changes. The letters go out, but no reply ever comes. It happened again, didn't it? He never wanted to leave, but it wasn't much of a choice. It wouldn't be long before his last energies dripped away, thanks to the disease. If anything, he lessened her burden by saying that last goodbye and vanishing off to the world, rather than staying and hav...

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...

"Where are we? It's… so dark." She heard the adolescent teen express a soft concern from her back; eyes kept focused on the dark steps descending the stairwell with a beat of excitement pulsing her heart. Her calm gentle pace seemed to vanish any trace of initial worry, reverberating down and up the narrow steps. "It's alright, 'Phee, the lights are just really old here - and afternoon! I was wondering if you were going to wake anytime soon," the mare cheerily whispered over, only to receive a...

A warm breeze rolled down the golden dunes of Old Antioch, dragging along the salty ocean air and the sound of waves from beyond. Zerathur slowed to a halt and raised one of the front legs, covering the eyes just in time to protect them from a waft of sand that followed the breeze. "Windy! the perfect weather for some good waves. The sun is quite warm today though, isn't it?" A moment of silence followed, but it wouldn't last long. "Oh, no joke, Sherlock!" Mel burst into laughter somewhere behin...

Spirit Weaver woke up dead. Quite an oxymoron, yes. One couldn’t just… wake up dead, could they? At least that wasn’t something that made sense to her. She’d read the phrase once in a novel and couldn’t stifle the laugh that came afterwards. And yet…. Here she was. She woke up. She was dead. This must have just been one of those out of body experiences that she’d heard about. She was some ways above the ground, the forest floor damp below her. In the brush was where she lay. She could hardly...

Time passed, as it often did, continuing its ceaseless march into oblivion. Spirit followed alongside it, as did the rest of the world. Thoughts of the past few weeks had faded into the background. The name still stuck in her mind, though. Taproot. Grass Roots Apothecary. She finally had a name to who started this. To who… forced this life upon her. Spirit had spent the day in Canterlot, wandering the market district, but never straying too far from a central location. The shop, itself. To think...

Spirit Weaver had been gone for some time. As she often was. This was the first she stepped into town in easily over a month, after all! And it had been even longer still since she’d checked her PO box. A thing that she forgot that she even had, most times. It had been…. Quite a while since she’d been in. Mostly because there’s never anything interesting there. This quarter’s stack felt no different, either. Junk. Junk. Junk. Jury summons (whoops). A bill. She was on the verge of tossing the wh...