Art of the Supernatural


The Final Words of Austen A. Pickering

Posted on August 6, 2011 at 12:55 AM Comments comments (0)

In the midst of the night's dark vault, when it seems that the the fabric of the world is at its most tenebrous, when the mist that will fall into morning dew is just rising and it is hard to beleive that there was ever any such thing as daylight or people. This is the Witching Hour.

The things that walk the earth at these times are not for the eyes of mortal men. They are as shadows that stride through the blackest vaults of eternity,...

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Cad Goddeu-Prologue

Posted on November 19, 2010 at 11:55 PM Comments comments (0)

I am Merlin and I stand on the lands of my ancestors. Neither sunshine nor moonglow fall on the fields and fens of Annwfn, no breeze stirs ancient forests twisted by time, no rainfall disturbs air ancient as stone and laden with secrets. Only the mist, grey and formless separates the sky from the land. I come to lay rest to the king, my student and my friend, Arthur. The Knights bear the body up the rocky shoal, I have led the way to this sacred place and now I stand by and watch the proce...

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Cad Goddeu-The First Sword: Calipyrnia

Posted on November 19, 2010 at 11:57 AM Comments comments (0)

   It is the year twenty of the reign of Emperor Julius Caesar and a small boy walks down stone-paved roads. Rome, a city cloaked in marble, passes lazily by. The boy carelessly kicks a ball of tightly bound twine in front of him; it hits the corner of a house and bounces down a narrow alley. He runs after it.

   The ball sits on a doorstep; the boy retrieves it and hears the light plucking of a lyre coming from within. The sweet melancholy tune compels him to enter ...

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