top of page
Writer's pictureJordan Gravewyck

Recalibrating my creative forge

Updated: May 2

While convalescing from the dark rite of explantation, performed to rid my body of its unwelcome lodgers, I have completed the skeletal draft of Foredoom's Fugue. Intending to dispatch it chapter by chapter into the ether, I found myself caught by the snares of perfection, rewriting the second chapter until the entire framework demanded reconstruction.


Two figures are engaging in a surgical scene stylized with a high-contrast, pixelated effect reminiscent of an old comic book. One figure, cloaked and seemingly faceless, observes, while a more clearly defined and standing, is performing the procedure. The standing figure holds surgical instruments and is operating on a prone figure. The background features vertical light beams that add a dramatic effect, enhancing the mysterious and intense atmosphere of the scene.

Along with my dwindling health, the estate's financial veins have bled nearly dry, a dire predicament exacerbated by my recent dealings with the shadowy Central Nomistic Administration. Despite the intellectual harvest from that engagement, the effort was a financial loss with the need for my rescue and the subsequent costly alchemical concoctions required for the safe exorcism of the Beast’s progeny.


In a bid to replenish the drained corpse of my estate's treasury, I have traversed the veiled corners of our world this last moon-and-a-quarter. My journeys led me to the enigmatic Kallikantzaros of Belasica, a race of ingenious, sightless craftsmen whose mastery over mystical lenses might yet redefine the bounds of reality. They are creatures inhabiting the complete darkness of the deep world and, save for the rare atavistic specimens possessing poor eyesight, they are completely blind, yet this particular clan creates glass of such quality and grinds it so precisely that even the blind can use it to see in complete darkness.


My recent research into these lenses' properties suggests that they can bend the threads of information entropy, whispering promises of a novel method of time travel. The Children of Aion, explorers of time's flow, might find interest in these artifacts, an interest I hope to capitalize on.


A haunting and atmospheric scene set in a dense, foggy forest under the light of a large, detailed quarter moon. In the foreground, several tombstones and figures draped in cloaks create a ghostly appearance, as if part of a nocturnal ritual or gathering. The background features the silhouette of an old, dilapidated church with a pointed steeple, adding a gothic touch to the setting. The trees, enveloped in mist, loom over the scene, enhancing the eerie and mysterious vibe of the night.

My health and finances have not been my only distraction. The spectral season between Beaster and Witches’ Night brings forth a tempest of agitation in Cryptwood Caverns. As the nocturnal flora blooms on Walpurgisnacht, its petals unfurling in the dark, the caverns become a conduit for all manner of cursed entities. Last night, all manner of foul, blighted creatures spurned by proper creation teamed among the Cyrptwood Caverns, compelling me to fortify the Estate against their spectral trespass.


Finally, Dr. Emilio Navarro's study of the twins has revealed interesting and concerning data. My understanding of children remains rudimentary, relying heavily on the doctor's discernment. Though their years are few, the breadth of their intellect mirrors that of youths far older. Yet, emotionally, they remain ensnared in the simplicity of early childhood.


A portrait of the three Gravewyck Twins showing their striking and supernatural appearances, framed by a dark, atmospheric background that suggests a setting in a haunted or mystical house. The child on the left, Kirby Graavwyck, sports wild black hair, vibrant green eyes, and a mischievous smile, dressed in a vintage striped suit with a bow tie. The middle child, Typhon Gravewyck, who appears more serious and enigmatic, has tousled black hair, single glowing red eyes, and wears a dark, formal outfit, embodying a brooding aura. The child on the right, Oleander Granvewyck, with her stark white hair and piercing glowing blue eyes, wears a black feathered dress with three cat heads sewn into it, adding an eerie elegance to her look.

I am collaborating closely with their governess to craft lessons aimed at cultivating their emotional capabilities. Affectology continues to perplex me; even the governess's elucidations have done little to pierce the fog of this mystery. Thus, compelled by this enigmatic challenge, I have selected a cohort of guests as subjects for emotional examination. Through such interrogations, I seek to uncover the subtlest nuances of human emotion, which I hope to infuse with greater authenticity into the nascent chapters of Foredoom's Fugue.


Acknowledging the myriad challenges that have unfurled, such as dark tapestries, in recent times, I find the necessity to recalibrate my creative forge. For this reason, the April Fool’s tale, The Ballad of Logan MacTavish, marks the conclusion of my personal prompts; I now look to the collective inspiration of the writing community. In my forthcoming missives, the Blytmoast Estate will take a more prominent stage. I will delve into my research and experimentation with the lives and arcane developments of my twins, Oleander, Typhon, and Kirby. Their misadventures and emerging dominion over otherworldly forces will offer a unique lens through which to view the trials and tribulations of unorthodox parenthood. And while Foredoom’s Fugue remains unwritten, its skeletal outline holds the promise of journeys into the enigmatic and the profound. I invite you to join me on this path as I continue to explore what it takes to be an author while balancing parenthood, maintenance of the Blytmoast Estate, and the dangers of Cryptwood Caverns.

5 views0 comments

Related Posts

コメント


bottom of page