Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Story: Chronicles of a Gryphon Keeper

Hey! I'm in a pretty good right now after two hours of some serious pampering and meditation, so I thought I'd share one of my newer stories with you. My writing has seriously changed since last year and I'm loving, so hopefully you will too! :)


3rd Day of the Rainy Season
6th Year of Reign of Amaranth,
The 17th Gryphon Keeper


To Whom It May Concern,

To think of the passage of time as if it's solely linear and as unstoppable as a stampeding elephant would cause me to laugh. For it is as far from such as I am from ever obtaining a stable level of sanity. Sanity happens to be a great enemy of mine for it only produces what has already been invented. Insanity is the realm of the greats, a place where thoughts are created and inventions made. For no one but one who is insane could ever dream of accomplishing what those who are sane deem as impossible.

These letters that I am writing to you, my unknown friend, might very well be the very spawn of my insanity. For some reason, the desire to write letters that detail my life and thoughts spring upon me while, in all places, I was trying to remove the gryphon that clawed at my hair with a vigor that only someone who has never lost the hope of having a great and glorious life.

So, read my letters if you suddenly have the odd desire to do so (I certainly hope that you don't discover said desire whist having a tiny devil rip out your hair) and learn how not to become a great gryphon keeper, for learning from others mistakes is most definitely better than learning from your own. Onwards now to my undoubtably wonderful thoughts! If such things do exist...

There must have been a time when I was normal, when the noise didn't affect me or cause me to run for the safety of a darkened alleyway. The must have been a time where I had a name and a family who cared for me; a time where I wasn't always alone and didn't have to fight for my own survival. There must have been something else or I wouldn't recognize the absurdity of my own situation.

I often wonder of my family and why I am no longer with them. It really can't be helped since people are always curious of what they do not know. As a girl I faintly recall being submerged in the idea that I was once a princess who was adorned in jewels and beloved by everyone. I would have had both a pet elephant that would carry me around not allowing my feet to touch the ground for even a split second and a striped tiger that would lay at my feet when I went to sleep, guarding me from the evils of the night. I knew, as that little street girl dressed in rags, that I must have lived that life. How could I have been born into this poverty and desperation?

So, I lived as a runaway princess for many years, a princess who was forced to scrounge in garbage bins for food and cut the clothes off a dead man so I could be warmed, until I grew to realize that I couldn't be the lovely princess I thought I ought to be. To come to such a realization is painful and heartbreaking. It made me give up on myself and caused me to become worthless in my own eyes. Yet I couldn't have lived my entire life in the bubble I had created for myself and the whole process was simply something I had to go through.

At what age I went through this process, I do not know for I am unsure of my own birth year. However I do believe to be after the Naesean wars and before the first attempted murder of Kalajhan's fifty-second king, making me no younger than six according to the diviners.
Shortly after the first attempted murder of the king, I began to be extremely bothered by noise, and therefore people by default. Instead of spending my days playing with my fellow street children, I choose to hide in dark, secluded alleyways until darkness took over and the noise began to fade. My odd habits did undermine my pickpocketing and stealing, since there were few people to steal from and those that were out late were people that you quickly learned you should not steal from lest you wish to have your head forcefully removed from your body.
Nonetheless, I was able to get by at the expense of many decent people who awoke to find both food and silver missing. On several occasions I barely escaped being found as I crawled out of windows with my dirty pockets filled with day-old bread and clanging bracelets. Fortunately, my love of silence allowed me to blend into the dark shadows.

Maybe it is that same silence that let me remain faceless and nameless, even to myself, for all those years. I do not regret those years I spent out on the streets living in a prison I crafted myself. I do not regret a single moment in my short life, for regretting even the smallest of moments would allow the darkness that drove the king's fourth son to his murderous ways to enter my own heart. One commits to darkness and evil only to prove their perceived worthiness. However, that worthiness is only an illusion and darkness only vanquishes the true worth of the individual.

To end this letter, I offer only an obvious piece of advice. Allow your worth not to come from what you possess, whether it be material things or intelligence, but from the acts you preform while using all that you possess. Is someone good because of the pureness of their thoughts or the kindness of their actions?


May the sand fall slowly in your glass
Amaranth, the 17th Gryphon Keeper

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