Author Archives: Kerian Nox

Tumbled Dreams: October 6 – October 12, 2012

What are “Tumbled Dreams”? These are the posts I made to my tumblr during the week because I felt they did not warrant a separate post on this blog. However, these “interstitials” often explain some of the backstory to the larger dream posts. For those readers that only read Three Different Ways, they may help explain some of the characters and sudden changes in plot and direction.

6,403 words

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Behind The Worlds

I take a step. Ripples extend from my foot as if I stepped into water. The ripples grow and snap the ground apart. Springing from the sudden wounds in the earth are large creatures. A chimeric mix of frog, wolf, and eagle, they surround me on all sides. Armored with the same vivid purple color as the hills, I know they are guardians. They roar at me menacingly. I am not to pass. They make no move towards me, but their posture tells me they are ready for battle.

2,204 words

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Tumbled Dreams: September 29 – October 5, 2012

What are “Tumbled Dreams”? These are the posts I made to my tumblr during the week because I felt they did not warrant a separate post on this blog. However, these “interstitials” often explain some of the backstory to the larger dream posts. For those readers that only read Three Different Ways, they may help explain some of the characters and sudden changes in plot and direction.

3,390 words.

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Tumbled Dreams: September 22 – 28, 2012

What are “Tumbled Dreams”? These are the posts I made to my tumblr during the week because I felt they did not warrant a separate post on this blog. However, these “interstitials” often explain some of the backstory to the larger dream posts. For those readers that only read Three Different Ways, they may help explain some of the characters and sudden changes in plot and direction.

4,216 words

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The Unquenchable Decision

“You’ve started some shit, you know.” I was helpless before her, and there was not a raven in sight. She picked up my defenseless form and placed me onto a nearby cold pyre. Humming contentedly to herself, she arranged more bones over me, nearly covering me completely. “There. You know what to do now. You go ahead and take care of things. I’ll keep watch.” The woman that once swore my destruction turned her back on me. I almost cried again. Instead, the fire lept from my heart and took to the bones. In the midst of the conflagration, I settled into deeper sleep.

4,659 words

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Tumbled Dreams: September 15 – 21, 2012

What are “Tumbled Dreams”? These are the posts I made to my tumblr during the week because I felt they did not warrant a separate post on this blog. However, these “interstitials” often explain some of the backstory to the larger dream posts. For those readers that only read Three Different Ways, they may help explain some of the characters and sudden changes in plot and direction.

5,810 words.

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Grace Within Fire

Who would think dreaming of a remote, self-sufficient colony would be so much damn work. We were all brought in for one or two specialties. Most of us wound up becoming jacks of all the trades. But it worked, the colony was able to continue on despite the dwindling amount of supplies from our mother country. There was talk of expansion. The more realistic among us talked of increasing stores and emergency supplies first.

3,748 words

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Tumbled Dreams: September 8 – 14, 2012

What are “Tumbled Dreams”? These are the posts I made to my tumblr during the week because I felt they did not warrant a separate post on this blog. However, these “interstitials” often explain some of the backstory to the larger dream posts. For those readers that only read Three Different Ways, they may help explain some of the characters and sudden changes in plot and direction.

4,037 words

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Boneyard Mysteries

I wipe my hands to prepare to call the Purging Fire when I note I have become bloodsoaked from the fresh bones. My hands, arms, and body from chest down, is covered in never-drying blood. That’s okay. I know what to do.

1,859 words

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In The Hall Of The Goblin King

“Yea, I’m sober. And the ripples bother me less than a stubbed toe. Not a problem. What gives?” He stops tapping the envelope and hands it to me without a word. Elaborate decorations covers the exterior. Inside is a handwritten note written in a language I can not read. But I can feel the impetus it carries. Weaver is being called upon. By name. Weaver has stories to tell.

2,407 words

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