To open eyes.

I woke from a nightmare. One which encompassed the world.

Not just the world to which I see in passing, in my life and those around me, but one which held the world in a grasp from which escape seemed impossible.

To feel the air.

There are words which I have lived by. Words which have offered encouragement and vision, words which I had never understood, yet always knew the meaning. For I have fought carelessly, and sought out blood when it was but a warm liquid which should only surge more from another than myself upon the ground.

Forgotten warnings.

One never expects the fanciful and fantastic to occur anywhere outside of stories. Only in legends and half forgotten memories do Gods ride upon the elements and heroes roam the world. So many places hold a relic, or even a spirit from ages past, it would be hard to believe any claims of authenticity, even if the fruits of those words stared one straight in the face.

Flowering fields of fortune [archive].

Many times I had gone by those fields where fortune flowers. My wealth was noticed on the path and where those paths did lead.

Inevitable.

Violence was always the answer. The only one to be heard by those who would listen not to reason or plea, not to fact or fear.