A dimension, a realm, a place or territory exists beyond time and space, it is the only means to travel across the stars and creation, guarded with forts and fleets and never ending day, this is the place of battle low and the high above.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In the shining sea of never ending sunshine, I sail in the soft light in a place which never allowed night, nor did it ever feel heavy and harsh, the skin felt an unseen warmth that tickled your skin like a pleasant kiss from a maiden luscious lip, it stands like no other place this golden sea, in all the bright and glowing light of creation. When you gaze above, you see nothing else but the golden flickering quilt of amber and shades of yellow in an ever-changing reflection. Some have soared high into this yellow sky of golden glow yet merely come out of the golden sea rippling below. Shapes in the corner of the eye fly, the golden and silver silk birds that dance like an arrow of flame in a slippery wind. The waves it throws are winding and slithering, the sound is almost silent as if the Gods of the Sea whisper and rarely have I seen this gold tinted sea roar loud as if some wounded boar.
Do I hear Loud Stomping? The loudest sound in this tranquil place all around. It is the feet of the Blessed One on boardwalks as if iron stone was thrown and dropped, and this blessed wood barely shudders. The steps of a Blessed One always catches me out because their thundering stomps make you turn, and then you see probably two or four people would fill the Blessed One's width, their height more in the realm of normal to short, saw once one of the greats of the Blessed One's folk with powerful force rippled through its form. Combat the likes of which I have never seen, that booming sound as it waved a mace of thunder, as if it was an extension of its body not a weapon held in hand. Only one was known to wield The Crown Breaker, the Mace of Thundering, so easily, and that was The Heir of Thunder. Our Pale Lordly champions, mention all the Blessed Ones, have the same eyes as each other. Their eyes are said to be of some blazing colour, inherited from a godly beast of our legends called Sar. The Blessed Ones revere the mighty Sar, also known as The Lord of the Blue Star. Those that lived in those olden days have said Sar was a marvel, even in the Godly Beasts. The Blessed Ones see him as their creator and god, their god who was shunned and bloodied because Sar colluded with our protectors the Grounded Gods in the First War of Creations. Sar was said to have died thereafter the war, hid in a world faraway, lived secluded until death through sacrifice for these now called blessed, their ancestors, they are all called The Heir's of Sar or Children Of The Blue Star.
