Over A Cup Of Coffee The tune of a coffee dissolves Into fragrance of dark and bitterness That haunt the scariest nightmare at the dawn. But all will be waken up, Even the dreams of insomnia, By the cruel caffeine of the reality.

Mummy, Do You Love Me? I banged the door behind me. There were noises in the house, arguments, from the kitchen. The door to the kitchen was closed. Someone yelled. A woman's voice. And soon it was replaced by the sound bashing and hitting. Within the darkness, I waited, in the sitting room. But through the slits of the door, the light of the kitchen reached out to the dark. Occasionally the light was blocked by the shadows. It looked like an old film reel spinning in the cinema. The fluidity of the motion picture was interrupted from time to time. After a while, silence took over and I heard the bang of a door. Cautiously I stepped towards the kitchen door, and turned the knob. The door was pushed opened gradually. I saw mother sitting on the floor. Her nose was bleeding. "Go and do your homework," she said coldly. "Did dad-" She slapped me. "Go and do your homework!" And I retreated to my room upstairs. It was kind of a routine to me and my mother. She got beaten up by my dad, while I got to see or hear she getting beaten up. She never complained it in front of me. In fact we did not talk much. Just the day before I told her I wanted to have spaghetti. She did not say a word, but walked into the kitchen quietly and started boiling a pot of water over the stove. My mother was a very good cook. I sucked the pasta in. The moisture of the olive oil and the fragrance of the tomato sauce wipped on my lips. They always carved a delicious memory into my brain. I smiled to my mother, " Yummy!" But her face was emotionless, and her eyes were red and her black eye hung ghastly under the dim light. I continued chewing on my meal. I knew it was her way to show me love. How could she not love me, if she made all these lovely food for me? Sometimes I would stay in the youth centre to do my homework. With all the noises, I could not concentrate. And I really did not want to see my dad. There was also this lovely lady there at the centre always giving sweets to me. Of course I never said a word about mum getting hit. What if they separate me and my mother apart? I had some friends who ended up in foster homes. No I could not leave my mother. But still I told that lady a lot about my mother, especially how brilliantly she cooked. "You should show your mother you love her too," the lady said, "you should do something for her. Something that can make her happy." Yes! That was good advice! I should do something for her. That evening I was pondering on what to do for my mum while I was walking back home. I heard arguments and yelling again at the doorstep. I walked into the house and saw dad pulling on my mother's hair. He roared at mother. His spits were sprayed on my mother's face. My mother clenched her teeth. It seemed they had not noticed me. I realized there was a pistol on the side table. “I should do something for her, and make her happy.” "Let mother go!" My trembling hands pointed the gun at my dad. I had loaded the gun. Information about how to shoot a gun isn't hard to find on the internet. "Oh so you have balls now? Shoot! You piece of shi-" The sound of the shot resonated with the spark. The shock bursted through the room. The recoil pushed me backward. Dad collapsed to the ground. There was silence for a short while. Mum stared at the body of dad and suddenly she turned to me. She threw me on to the ground. My shoulder was hit hard. I felt as if the bone had been crushed. "Why did you do that?" She asked in a calm voice.. "Because I love you, mother," I wailed. "Love me?" Her laughter turned into a hoarse roar. "I never love you! I can always have another son. You are just another meat popped out of my virgina!" I didn’t cry. I didn’t yelled. The cold steel simply rested motionless in my palm.

The Turtle In The Glass Tank One day, while I was playing in the sand dune with my friends, I caught a little lizard. Carefully I put the creature inside a glass flask, and I tied a metal wire to the lid, as a handle. And I went back home happily, humming on my favourite tune. When I got home, Jim was already there. Mum saw me with my new found pet. She smiled but said, “Let the poor creature go! It deserves to be in the nature.” She urged me to let the lizard go. I went to the front door unwillingly, opened the lid, and the creature slipped away quickly. Then I walked back to the living room with a long face. Jim came and patted on my shoulder. “Come on! Sit by the table. Let me tell you a story about animal freedoms.” He took out that small hourglass out again and put it on the table. The sand began to flow. “Not too long time ago, there was this kingdom named Akkad, in which there was a very intelligent and brave prince. He conquered many lands with his valour and wit. He built massive machineries that could breathe fire on his enemies, while he himself always rode at the frontline, pushing his enemies backwards. Very soon, he was able to expand his kingdom towards the edge of the western land. “When he was returning from his final victorious conquest in the western land, he stepped on something hard. He moved away his boot and found this turtle shell. He picked up the shell and saw those tiny head and legs hiding under it. Turtle was a symbol of prosperity in the kingdom of Akkad, and he found this little creature so cute that he immediately declared this turtle as the royal pet. “While back in the palace, he put the turtle in a glass tank facing his royal bed in his chamber. On the wall there hang a map of the kingdom. ‘Ah! I need to revise my territory again now.’ He smiled to himself. “’A swallow flew by and caught sight of this new addition to the royal family. She landed at the window and asked, ‘Oh hello my friend! Tell me how you ended up here?’ “The turtle replied with an irritated tone, ‘I was sunbathing at the nicest spot of the dune, but then this human came and stepped on me. He took me here and put me in this tank. Do you know what I will become of?’ “’No worry my friend. I think the human wants to keep you as a pet.’ “’A pet?’ The turtle seemed puzzled. “’Yes. Humans love to keep animals as pets. Some of the pets, like dogs, are trained to hunt or perform other services for the humans.’ “’What? What service can I provide for the humans?’ the turtle grumbled. “’Do you know this box?’ The swallow pecked the glassy tank. ‘This is a display box. Humans put what they what to look at within this box.’ “’So I am just here to be looked at? What nonsense is that?’ “’Yes apparently, the humans love to collect different objects and animals to decorate their “nests”. You should be grateful they didn’t kill you and turn you into a specimen.’ “What the swallow said had clearly upset the turtle. The turtle was so frightened that he retreated and held his limbs and head back into his shell. “’I am sorry!’ begged the swallow. ‘I was just joking. If they wanted you to be a specimen, you would be mounted on the wall by now.’ The swallow was pointing its beak to the wall with the map of the kingdom. “’Please take me away! Oh you are too small to lift me up. Don’t you have some bigger friends, like eagle?’ The turtle was begging heartily. “The swallow rolled its black pearly eyes angrily at the turtle, ‘do you think I could still come back, when I go and get you an eagle? I can only be the eagle’s food, not friend. Actually you should be glad, now you don’t need to go out to find food, nor do you need to hide from the predators. It is actually quite cosy here. Don’t you think?’ “What I want is freedom! I don’t need food or shelter! I don’t want to be observed behind this glassy box!’ the turtle started to yell grumpily. “’Oh don’t be like that! You cannot accomplish anything by losing your temper.’ “’What should I do then?’ asked the turtle impatiently. “’Just relax. You will leave this place one day. If you are too lonely, I can stay with you for these few days, but I have to leave for the south very soon. My husband is waiting there for me.’ “And the swallow stayed with the turtle for a few days. Time flew fast. It was time for the swallow to part, but the turtle begged her to stay. “’I promise I will come back to you next year. If I cannot come back, I will ask my children to come to see you.’ So the swallow beat her wings and soared to the desert sun. The turtle was left alone again. “Time flew fast again. Many sunrises, many sunsets, and twenty#moonphases had passed. There was no sign of the swallow. The turtle could only gaze at the moonlit every night, hoping for his friend to come. “One night while everyone was deeply asleep, there was a great explosion within the palace. Everyone was shocked. One big rock from the ceiling fell down. It crushed by the side of the glass tank, nearly hitting the turtle. Then there was this earth cracking noise from the corridor. A group of soldiers marched into the prince’s chamber. The one leading the army was the first general to the prince. “The turtle saw the prince being taken away. It was treason. Later the first general became the King of Akkad, and the turtle was moved to the throne room. “’Now we need a bigger tank for you. Don’t we?’ The new King patted the turtle on the shell. The turtle had grown in size. His scales got bigger and pointier. The new King placed a bigger glass tank behind his throne and moved the turtle there. “It took three months for all the things to settle down. And finally the turtle could be free from all the noises from the renovations. Then the turtle noticed a bird busy flying around the palace. It seemed the bird was looking for something. “’What are you looking for, little birdie? If you want some food, the kitchen is downstairs.” “The bird approached the turtle. Now the turtle could see it clearer. It was the swallow! The turtle could not help suppress his excitements. He stomped the floor. “’Mrs Swallow, I have been waiting for you so long!’ said the turtle sincerely. “’I am sorry do I know you?’ The swallow’s words broke the turtle’s heart. “’How could you forget me? You promised me you would be back!’ “’Oh you are Mr Turtle?’ the swallow snapped. ‘No, I am not the same swallow you saw two years ago. I am her daughter.’ “’What happened to Mrs Swallow?’ the turtle exclaimed. “’She died. I am afraid, we swallows do not live as long as you turtles do,’ said the swallow drily, “I was told you were in the royal chamber.’ “’I was! I was!’ said the turtle nervously, ‘I nearly died in a fight!’ The turtle told the sparrow about the treason and how he was moved to the throne room. “’Please help me! I need to be away from this violent place!’ the turtle begged hysterically. “’I am so sorry but there is nothing I can help,’ the sparrow shook her head, ‘perhaps you should be more happy. You see you are at the throne room. The new King likes you. I think he will treat you well. Do you know how hard it is to find a shelter with warm food outside?’ “The turtle knew it was useless to argue with the sparrow. Like mother, like daughter. Instead he asked the sparrow to stay with him. “’I am sorry but I have to be back to the south soon. My boyfriend is waiting for me,’ the sparrow larked, ‘You know he has the shiniest black feathers that shimmer under the sun. Oh and that wavy feather at the top of his head too!’ The sparrow was quite absorbed into her own imagination, but the turtle continued to beg. Finally the sparrow gave in, ‘Fine! I guess I can stay for a few days. This palace seems quite comfortable too.’ “And the sparrow stayed with the turtle for a few days and said, “Sorry but I really need to leave now.” But she also added, “This is truly a nice place. Maybe I won’t need to escape to the south next year. I am sure these thick walls will keep my feathers warm in winter.’ And the turtle saw her flew away. “Soon the temperature began to drop, with the days becoming shorter while the nights longer. Then after countless moonlit nights, spring came. And when the turtle lost count of the sunsets, spring was replaced by summer, autumn and another winter. “After many years, a little swallow came to the palace. His wings were still small and weak. He could not fly for a long time. He landed on the top of a giant rock in the garden. “’Good day, little swallow,’ a deep voice sounded within the rock. The swallow was shocked and fell to the ground. “’Oh I am sorry. Did I scare you?’ Gradually a grey shadow emerged from the cleft of the rock. The swallow blinked hard for a few times. He realized he landed on the shell of the turtle. “’Are you the great turtle imprisoned in the palace?’ the little swallow asked. “’Oh yes I am. Are you the grandchildren of Miss Swallow?” “’No, that was my great-great-grandmother. She told us of a cosy palace with a giant turtle in a glass tank, where we could escape from the cold of the winter. My wings are too weak to fly to the south, so I want to stay here for this winter.’ “’Oh I am afraid you have chosen a wrong time to come,’ said the turtle in a long sad tone. ‘After your great-great-grandmother left, the Akkad kingdom was attacked by another kingdom, Urak. After countless years of fight, Urak conquered Akkad. I could still remember the day when the pillars of the palace fell. I hid myself under my hard shell. My glass tank was crushed. People hurried to and fro. I am not certain they were fighting or escaping. Anyway, the kingdom fell and a new king came. He found me too massive to be put anywhere inside the palace, so I was moved to the garden.’ “’I think the garden may be a better place than the inside. At least you get to see the sky,’ the little swallow commented. “’To me it’s the same everywhere. I think you should leave now. Urak is at war with another kingdom, Hakeim now. Hakeim’s army is right at the doorsteps of the palace this moment. This kingdom will be gone soon again.’ “’Really?’ the swallow sounded worried, ‘maybe this time Urak will win?’ “’No, the king of Urak is too arrogant and stupid. This place will be another crumbling battlefield again,’ the turtle sounded quite certain. “’I see. Okay I will leave. Why don’t you come with me? You are out of the glass tank now. You can easily leave this garden.’ “’Ha!’ the turtle laughed in his old cracking voice, ‘no I am too old to be moving again, and I don’t want to leave anymore. When I was in the glass tank, I always thought I was imprisoned, being observed by the humans; but now I realize I actually observed the humans through the glass wall. I have seen how foolish they are, to be fighting among themselves, to be obsessed with power and glory. It is actually quite a show. I enjoy watching them, while they keep feeding me. It’s a bargain, don’t you think so?’” Jim stopped talking but smiled to me. I did not say anything but put the glass flask on the table. And Jim started to gulp down his beer while slipping his hourglass back in his pocket. observed by the humans; but now I realize I actually observed the humans through the glass wall. I have seen how foolish they are, to be fighting among themselves, to be obsessed with power and glory. It is actually quite a show. I enjoy watching them, while they keep feeding me. It’s a bargain, don’t you think so?’” Jim stopped talking and smiled to me. I did not say anything but put the glass flask on the table. And Jim started to gulp down his beer while slipping his hourglass back in his pocket.

Chronicles Of Hellenia ---- The Myth Of Samantha (These are stories and fictions, not facts. I wrote these to soothe my nerve while also to build up lore for a book I have been planning for years.) The Age before... Seven is a whole number. Every historical turning point happened in a seventh year, a Rola year. It was said the last age, the Britannian Age, ended in the seven thousandth Rola year. The Britannian Age was an age of machine. Massive robots and sophisticated machinery occupied people's #life. Massive transparent towers extended to the sky. People lived in mid-air. Some ancient records even claimed that the Britannians were living on the moon, though it is believed to be impossible, else the Britannians would have contacted the earth long time ago. Yet all these glamours came with a price. To support the giant machinery, the Britannians needed fuels. And they collected their fuel in a disturbing way --- from the blood of the veilers --- magical creatures that were said to be the ancestors of the whales. According to the legends, the vielers, as mammals, had similar physiology as the whales, but they were much larger. Their flippers were as transparent as the wings of the dragonflies, while much thicker with webs of veins visible to the outside. Since their blood was fluorescent under water, their flippers were like glowing spider webs in the deep ocean. On the top of their heads --- between the dorsal fin and the blow hole --- there was also an area of the skin being transparent, revealing the silvery glowing blood vessels within. When the veilers floated back to the surface, their network of blood vessels shone from the deep, like a glowing veil gradually emerging from the sea. That part of the skin was called the "veil" and thus they inherited the name veiler. The Britanians hunted the veilers for their blood. It was said that the veiler blood was highly flammable but it also released energy at a low rate --- it was rumoured that just a small drop of veiler blood could burn for at least a week. Therefore the veiler blood was harnessed to support the energy demands of the Britannians. There are very few records about the veilers left from the previous age. The present understandings about the veilers are mostly based on myths. The most famous veiler tale is about the veiler Samantha. Samantha was a female veiler whose mother was hunted down by the Britannians during her "childhood". The Britannia songr depicted the event as such: "Two hooks went through the tail and the part of the body behind the dorsal fin. The huntsmen always avoid the head, especially the veil, in order to reduce blood loss. Once the blood contacts the brine, the glow will perish and the price will drop. To the huntsmen, it was business. Yet to little Samantha, it was survival. She bite into her mother's skin, trying to pull her back. One huntsman saw that and aimed his hook on her. 'No!' the other huntsman shouted, "leave the cub! Wait till she grows. We are harvesting, not eliminating! Else where will veilers be for us to hunt in the future?' Little Samantha remembered that. The words fueled her anger towards human." --- The Britania songr. Chapter VIII, the seed of the end. According to legends, when Samantha grew up, she led the resistance against human. The veilers were magical creatures and they were capable of primitive magics. There was one precious record detailing the veiler magic: "I hear their voice again! Like cries, sipping into my skull! All the machines stop within their weeps. The veiler blood explodes as they cry. People falling from the sky. I saw my dead mother. I see my child cover in blood. What is madness? I remember I saw the veilers once, along the coast. It was like an array of army, shouting their voices into our cities. My vision was blinded in their nightmares --- the memories of slaughters, their slaughters. Can we ever tame the nature? Or should we?" The small passage is believed to be from the journal of a Britannian. From the passage we can know that the veilers were capable of using sound as the medium of magic charms. Their "cry" or "weep" could stop the operation of the Britannian machines while causing the veiler blood fuel to explode. It is also possible the veiler cries could conjure illusions and induce madness into human brain, leaving the victim mentally broken. The Britannians tried to fight back, as indicted in most records, but they were not particularly successful. It was mainly due to their hope to conquer the veilers. The Britannians were still trying to preserve the veilers, in order to keep using their blood as fuels. Yet the Britannians was never aware of the high intelligence of the veilers. The veilers were organized in a sophisticated way to counteract the attack of the human, while retreating to the depth of the ocean when in danger. The result of the war was most coastal towns were destroyed and the Britannians retreated inland. Yet the war did not end here. The Brtiannians were clever enough to invent a powerful weapon while foolish enough to use it. They thought since the veilers were aquatic animals, they can defeat the veilers by reducing the size of the ocean. They intended to do so by stimulating geological movements --- stimulating submarine volcanic eruptions. The result was disastrous: "I woke up to find the water boiling up. The whole sea bed erupted. I saw light coming from beneath, not from above. My veiler kin and I tried to swim away, but the whole ocean was burning down. My kin used their #life to power a magic to envelop me in a bubble. The bubble rose into the sky and I saw the foolish human drowning in their own treacheries. The fire breached their lands and finally all melted into lava. I wept, not conjuring magic with my voice, but truly crying for my kin, the human and myself. 'Where should I go? Is it the end of the world?'" --- the legacy of the Pearls Then some legends tell of Samantha praying to the Divine, while in some versions she prayed to the Old God of Ocean. Either version, her prayer was heard by the deity and her body began to dissemble. Her blood began to evaporate into glowing clouds that rained for seven years. Her bones hardened to form the crust while her flesh turned into soil with lives thriving on it. Her tears crystallized into seven Pearls. Gradually the lava died down. It took the earth seven hundred years to heal and in the 7100th Rola year, civilizations started to reclaim the earth again. Thus ended the Age of Britannia and began the Age of Hellenia. The events depicting Samantha and the veilers are mostly dismissed as myths by academic authorities. Yet some scholars are still willing to admit the truth in these myths, since there are far too many records on the Pearls of Samantha. The Pearls are usually depicted as powerful relics or sources of knowledge in various historical documents. The Pearls were usually involved in important historical turning points, though they were always lost after these events. Therefore it is believed the Pearls have their own wills, or possibly the will of Samantha, to evade human. And many biologists believe the veilers are the prehistoric species of the whales. The whale oil possesses similar properties as the claimed properties of veiler blood in various myths, although the whales might be less intelligent than the veilers. And geological evidence has also suggested there was once a vigorous global earth plate movement. The Riskan magicka academy has also acknowledged the magical capability of the whales, and possibly veilers, that their voice could conjure certain magics. Yet all these speculations lack solid evidence to verify what actually happened during the end of the Britannian Age.

Tiptoeing Steps diffused, So were the shadows. My thoughts Strung up in notes, That echoed the tune Of the everlasting waltz. But my toes bled. Tips fell apart. The pain split The dreams. And my essence was gone.