•27. Januar 2012 • Schreibe einen Kommentar

„Why am I not allowed to participate? “ Ariada almost shouted at this point.
“My dear, you know I would let you do whatever you want, but …“ her foster father Laherion tried to calm her down but she interrupted him.
“But you can! You are the leader of this city! You can force them! Please Parr, I beg you!” He was surprised there for a second as she rarely used the familiar term for ‘father’ when talking to him. Tears started to fill Ariada’s completely black eyes.
Those eyes used to scare him. It was weird seeing no white in them at all but when she became his daughter, when the Murcial gave her to his wife, he started to love them. He could find such wisdom and at the moment such force in them. He sighed.
“Well… you know you are right, don’t you? But if I force them, to let you participate, you know they’ll bully you.”
“I don’t care!” she exclaimed, already looking like a fearsome warrior. He sighed again. She knew him far too well.
“I have to see what I can do.”
Her eyes flickered with a raging fire. “I love you Parr! I really, really love you!” He laughed.
“Of course you do! Until you pull a prank or until you suddenly forget to speak the language of the humans.”
“No, I swear! When they really allow me to train and become a warrior I will be nice and always tidy up my room and pull no pranks with the servants and will do as I am told!”
He chuckled. ‘Children…’
She hugged him tight and more to his surprise wrapped her wings around him before she gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you!” Slowly Ariada unfolded her wings and ran out of the room to tell Laër that she was going to become a great and fierce warrior.
Laherion still sat on his chair, baffled. It was really seldom that she used her wings for hugging. They were just too frail he always believed and she was still cautious about the skin since Laër healed them. Leaning back on his chair the leader of the big city smiled. Where has he come to? He, Laherion Albnicowminica y Slaberichomer de Sylmerioohn, the leader of the second biggest city, Hhihll, in the mighty land of Cormaggh, allowed his little foster daughter, who was not even from his own human race to join the warrior training. No, he even forced them to accept her. Still smiling he went to his chamber to write a letter to Mlironar, the head of the best warrior guild of Hhihll to let Ariada live the way she wanted.


A change of the moon later, Ariada couldn’t stop smiling. Training began today! Laër sat next to her, eating slowly his breakfast.
“Stop looking so grimly!” Ariada said and threw a fruit at Laër’s head. He ducked and frowned.
“You know I’m not into fighting! And since we’ve found out that I’m a healer, it’s accepted!”
“Laër, please!” Ariada put on her sweetest smile “you know they only let me participate and train if you come with me.”
“Yeah I know… But don’t forget: You owe me now!”
Ariada smiled exorbitantly. She rose from her seat, grabbed Laër’s hand and pulled him out of their home, past the guards and down the hill towards the best fighting league.
In front of the doors stood some of the well known bullies and even Carom, the one who threw stones at Ariada which tore her wings and did put her in the medical centre for a long time. She almost died but luckily Laër discovered his healing ability and saved her.
Some other new students looked shyly around not confident enough to enter the training hall. Ariada broadly smiled at all of them and pushed the doors open as if she would already belong here.
“Put that on!” An older student tossed some training clothes in their direction.
“How do you think will these fit me?” Ariada asked, looking suspiciously at the shirt, which of course was closed at the back.
“I don’ care how ya put ya stupi’ wings in ther’! Jus’ put it on!”
Embarrassed Laër went into the changing room together with his foster sister. Ariada was the only girl! Was she really going to undress herself in front of all?
Yes she was, but left her underwear on and didn’t care when the boys were looking at her making some remarks about her body. Mumbling she looked at the shirt thinking hard what to do. The others soon left the room leaving snide remarks about Ariada’s idea of even turning up.
“Just go ahead.” she said to Laër “I’ll follow in a minute!”
With a sigh he left the room to join the others.
“Is everyone ready?” Mlironar the trainer asked.
“Haha! All the real warriors are here. Even the whiney son-of-a-…leader is here. But the stupid and useless Murcial creature dares to come late!” Carom the biggest of them spoke.
“You dare” Laër snarled but the sweet sound of Ariada’s voice interrupted him.
“Sorry, I’m late, but I had trouble with the shirt…”
Laër’s eyes and all of the others widened as she approached them, having cut off the entire back of the shirt and somehow, with many difficult knots found a way to fix the rest of the cloth around her front.
“…it was a bit too wide.” she excused and smiled awkwardly.
“What in Tamra’s name have you done?” Mlironar asked her.
“Well, I first took my knife and”
“Who said that you could cut off everything of your training clothes?”
“No one said I wasn’t allowed. I was told no one would care how I would put it on. And for my wings I had to cut it…” Ariada’s voice trembled.
“Do you really want to have such a disobedient pupil? You see the Murcial brings trouble even before training starts! I do not want to know what this creature will do when she gets handed a sword.”
“Shut up!” Laër interrupted Carom. “Shut your dirty mouth up! She is right! No one said she wasn’t allowed to … alter the clothes! And of course she needs the holes for her wings! This darn league knew that a Murcial was coming to train here! They could have prepared something for her! And if you do not accept her as your pupil … well it’s your problem then! We thought that this was the best combat training facility but if you refuse to teach her then I can only pity you! Because you will let go one of the best fighters this world will have ever seen!
Ariada, come! Let’s go and find you a place where they will teach you!”
He offered her his hand and she grabbed it. Angrily he wanted to storm off when the trainer spoke:
“No! Stay! The Murcial … I mean Ariada can stay. I’ll teach her. And if she proves herself worthy in the next few days as all of you have to.” he turned around, shouting the last few words. “Then I will be happy to call you my pupils!”
“Thank you!” Ariada fell to her knees bowing in the old way of showing respect to a renowned swordsman.
“See! She’s already way better than you guys!”
Rumbling was heard in the room as the young men fell to their knees, trying to copy Ariada’s position.

Who knew back then, that Laër had spoken the truth that Ariada would become the best fighter the city and even the land of Cormaggh had ever seen. Laër did even bet that in Urrlung was no warrior who could compete against her!
She out-competed every pupil of the fighting league within a short amount of time only to become the most known fighter and saviour in the whole world.



•29. September 2010 • Schreibe einen Kommentar

Glorious smell

Fills my nostrils
Fills my mind

Makes me forget
Makes me lose control

I cannot think
I can’t hold back

I need to feel
I need to taste

Makes me drunk
Makes me high

Fills my body
Fills my life

Glorious smell
Of sweetest blood

Giving Up

•29. September 2010 • Schreibe einen Kommentar

Can you see,
what glistens there
A tear, so small,
I cried for you

Can you feel
or can you see
the darkness deep inside
rising, filling up my heart

I gasp for air
reach out my hand
but no one there
to help me out

I’m sinking deeper
and stopped to cry
my last tear fell down
a while ago

because I know
I am alone
I stopped to breathe
A while ago


•23. Juni 2010 • Schreibe einen Kommentar

Eingeritzt in Holz und Stein
sind die Runen groß und klein
zeugen von der alten Zeit
erzählen von Vergangenheit

Damit es jedem Mann bekannt
wie doch einst die Welt entstand
dass aus Niflheim das Eis
trifft auf Muspelheimes heiß

Gebiert aus Frost den Riesen
Ymir auf den eis‘gen Wiesen
durch Muspelheim war ihm noch heiß
tritt Mann und Frau aus seinem Schweiß

Audumla nährte Ymir lang
mit Milch aus ihrem Euter drang‘
und leckte aus dem Eise frei
Buri, der dann zeugte drei

Wotan von den Brüdern fand
auch Hönir, Loki dieses stand
um zu bauen dreier Land
starb der Ries‘ durch ihre Hand

Aus des Riesen Hirnesschale
formten sie den Himmel hoch
stark gehalten alle Tage
stetig unter Zwergenjoch

Sein Fleisch geformt zur Erde
ein Land ganz wild und rau
und aus seinem Hirne werde
die Wolken unterm Himmel blau

Zu Bergen wurde sein Gebein
hoch und harsch bis an den Rand
bald floss sein Schweiß durch das Gestein
und ward zu Seen im neuen Land

Geformt aus Braun und Haare schwer
Midgard und die Bäume
aus seinem Blut das Weltenmeer
dass es die Erde säume

Nachdem das neue Land erbaut
Wotan durch die Welten schaut
und an dem Strande sich leicht staut
zwei Bäume von der See zerzaut

Traurig aus sah jeder Baum
aufgeweicht im Meeresschaum
und Wotan, Hönir, Loki fand
wie ein Mensch schien jeder Stamm

Loki gab ihn‘ Blut und Farbe
Geist, Vernunft ist Hönirs Gabe
und Wotan von den drein‘
hauchte ihn‘ die Seele ein

Namen gaben sie ihn‘ auch
so war es schon der Asen Brauch
der Mann von ihnen Ask(r) genannt
die Frau als Embla ward bekannt

So schufen drei Geschlechter eins
die Menschenrasse, unsereins

Die Zwerge schufen Menschenformen
belebt mit Göttermacht
gelenkt ihr Schicksal von den Nornen
bis zu Ragnarökes Nacht

Wie ein Blatt im Wind

•5. Mai 2010 • 2 Kommentare

Hin und her wiegt mich der Wind
Die Glieder abgefallen sind
Haar und Kleider sind zerzaut
Und braun gedörrt die Haut

Abgefressen ist mein Fleisch
Krähen sitzen auf der Leich‘
Zerrupften mir die Haut
Und krähten dabei laut

Nährten sich an meinem Tod
und allem was mein Körper bot
Krähten laut mit aller Macht
Von meiner Strafe Tag und Nacht

Verhöhnten freudig all mein Leid
Und lachten aus mein sünd’gen Leib
An dem Galgen aufgehängt
Hab ich mein Leben ganz verschenkt


•3. Mai 2010 • 1 Kommentar

Ist der Krieg den ich begann
Sind die Wort, die ich ersann
Der Mensch der auf die Knie fällt
Der das Schwert in Händen hält

Geh und folge meinem Wort
Hinaus zu weit entfernten Ort
Um Völker auszurauben
Drum kämpfe für den Glauben

Sind die Pfade, die ihr geht
All die Heiden, die ihr seht
Wird der Mord an ihnen sein
Ihr Gebet im Fackelschein

Die Todesschreie hallen
Auch Christen sind gefallen
Sie starben in dem Wahn
Dass Gutes sie getan

War er wirklich dieser Krieg?
Der nicht errung‘ne Sieg
Müsst ihr leben mit dem Spott
Glauben müsst ihr eurem Gott
ENDLICH!!! nach zwei Wochen harter Arbeit an diesem Gedicht ist es endlich fertig!!! JUHUU *tanz*

Auch wenn… und ja das muss ich zugeben, mich hier wieder ein Lied inspiriert hat… und „leider“ mein Gedicht sehr nach diesem Lied klingt… aber wenn man es die ganze Zeit rauf und runter, rauf und runter hört, so wie ich die vergangenen Wochen, dann ist das kein Wunder…. XDDD
Hier für euch, wen das Original interessiert, E Nomine mit „Heilig“:


•14. April 2010 • 1 Kommentar

Ein Meer aus Wunden, rot und klar
bedeckt den Körper wunderbar.
Von der Schlacht von allen Schlachten,
die diese Schnitte ihm beibrachten.

Siechend stirbt er auf dem Feld,
für all‘ bekannt nur noch als Held
und besungen in den Klagen,
verewigt in Balladen.

So stirbt sein Körper, nie die Tat
und mehr als Ruhm man ihm nachsagt.
Doch unsterblich wird er sein
und geht in die Geschichte ein.