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Scholomance

The Scholomance (Romanian: Şolomanţă, Solomonărie) was a fabled school of black magic in Transylvania, which was run by the Devil. The school enrolled about ten students to become the Solomonari. Courses taught included the speech of animals and magic spells. One of the graduates was chosen by the Devil to be the Weathermaker and tasked with riding the dragon to control the weather. The school lay underground, and the students remained unexposed to sunlight for the seven year duration of their study. The dragon (zmeu or balaur) was kept submerged in a mountaintop lake, south of Hermannstadt (now Sibiu in Romanian) according to some accounts. more »

Year:

1999

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I will hand you your heart
Which I will so gracelessly rip from your heaving chest.
I pondered in candlelit lethargy. I grieved as the wax melted,
Knowing
"Tomorrow I must hurt you, who I hold dear
As an ancient myth held true to its people.
You, who I knew but a moment. But what a moment!
As though touching the darkening hue of the night sky
And forsaken stars for the first time.
Together and alone,
We came to swim in each other's minds.
Independent, still one.
Now I must be rid of you.
Forever is a choice made by both.
Father Time is dreaming of fog rising and moonsets.
These we cannot see again through a reflective cyclopean gaze.
Nothing good.
For me
Nothing is good. But for you?
One day there will be no one at all
With whom to talk, speak or boast.
By no fault, with no blame, but with one hundred points of pain.
Don't forget. Cannot forget. Nothing was good.
No future. Smile politely at the blind."
Have I known hate? Indifference in a skincloak of anger
Or Love in purity. Goddess, the torment! The weak talk of strength.
The strong speak with sympathy. The wise thus said nothing.
For none know the real truth the strong need and the wise know it.
When stabbed endless times all vessels are cut
And the heart will lumber with Death.
The mind becomes stricken with sickly pallor
And will usher in Hate.
Will the blade sayeth,
"Please, I wish not to dive into your flesh!"
When all are gone?
Infinite dirge, a life in Inferno's anguish.
My tears ever stream
And will they run separately from my blood?
Will it be this and Now?

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