This is Interstellarlove

“Do you want breakfast Ariam?” he said empathetically to the extent that he possibly could without sounding obnoxious and ignorant. “I know you’re sad about what happened, but if there is one thing I am pretty sure in this life, breakfast food can mend even the most aching pain.”             “I’m not sad, Bernard,” she said, and how oh so wrong was she. “I don’t need you to sympathize on me.”             “You are,” the captain insisted. “Pretending you’re not sad won’t make you stronger. So, be sad, sweet face, just be sad if you want. We are all here for you. We are going to be until you’re not sad. We’re going to be strong for you.”

Chapter 10 In the early morning, Ariam was thrilled as the wind blew a flurry draft at her sweet face on the deck of the Grateful Dead. They had been sailing for almost three days and two nights, making their way on sea to the Dagger Fortress of Krajinyr, Kina Shira for that was their destination after Tmavy Woods. She can tell by the way the wind pushes the air and the smell of the surrounding, they were closing by, and it was a matter of hours by now. The ship sailed close by the shore, sea stacks dotted around, and wind was chilly with the smell of fresh sea.             Standing on the top deck with her, were all her companions. Most of them had been properly acquainted already, except for Jamarpabelle who mostly kept to himself. However last night, Jamarpabelle and Ariam had a moment. “You’re a very quiet person aren’t you?” probed Ariam as she looked at how calm and soothing the elf’s temperance was last night. She kno...

Chapter 9 By the dawning of the first light representing a new day, the fog had been cleared off now, and the sky was the color of red clashed against orange, one could even say it was blood orange, and so it was the gang lined up in front of the ancient ruins where the orcs had made camp.             Mornings in Tmavy Woods were something of a spectacle really, sure the place was extremely creepy with trees having empty eye dumps and sniggering tree holes that formed eerie smiles, but in the morning, the freshness and rawness of the woods, the virginity of it constructs this earthly natural smell. And the vibrant morning birdies sing songs that one would only hear in the deep forest, where being lost meant being in a new place rather than just being absence than where one thought one would should be.      With the gang’s weapons sheathed, they came in peace, and behind them were the Pokoks who led t...

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