Writing has been part of my life almost on a daily basis since I was 11. I used it as a way to put out strong emotions I’ve been feeling inside, as an attempt to organize and understand many chaotic thoughts. Writing (to myself mostly) became my first form of expression. For some time now I’ve been trying to transform this writing energy I have beyond journaling and expand into more fictional worlds and stories. Storytelling is something I’m in love with and would like to explore further.
You can find all those descriptions in my portfolio, but I thought it would be nice to gather them all in one place:) I’d like to share with you some little stories or more creative descriptions I’ve made for my drawings.
Myshka
Enchanted Ocarina Made Of Ancient Tree Bends The Will Of Creatures And Never Sets Them Free Charmed By Compelling Sound By The Spell They Can’t Resist Now To The Girl Are Bound As Long As They Exist There’s Such A Power In Little Paws And Strength In Quantity Those Are Nature’s Laws Where Hundred Creates The Unity So Beware Of This Piercing Sound Of The Smoke Floating In The Air You’ll See No Escape Around Just The Mice, So… Prepare
Enchanted
Ancient Stories Have Been Told Of The Creatures Hosting Mortal Spell Once Belonged To The Spirit’s World Now Among The Humans Dwell
In The Search For Purest Souls The Flesh They Could Possess Desire Flows With No Control There Is No Time For “Yes”
Like The Tender Mist They Fall Touching Softly Naked Skin For They Too Wish To Be Whole Something They Have Never Been
Don’t Try To Run My Sweetest One For They Are Not Here To Kill The Enchanted Kiss Must Be Done So Close Your Eyes… Surrender… Feel
The Keeper
The Keeper of souls forgotten and lost
Messenger of death is his other name
He seeks for truth no matter the cost
Powerful spirit which no one can tame
Look for the answers in omniscient eye
Don’t lose your soul in feathers’ maze
Keep your eyes open and head up high
But who can withstand this piercing gaze?
Battle of Flowers
Ancient stories tell of flowers that bloom only under the pale glow of the full moon. It is told that they are a source of powerful, old Magic. Their roots like silver threads travel beneath the surface of the world where an invisible force awaits. Sweet, luring fragrance lingers in the air like an invitation while soft petals dance with the wind showing the way. Can you hear it? A beat of the drums rousing in the distance followed by an aerie song of the Spirits. It is the promise of victory calling champions from all lands. One by one they come with blooming power in their hands. Who is the one? Who holds more magical force hidden between the petals? Come, cheer with the crowd, for the Battle of Flowers is about to begin.
Winter Rose
Look, first snowflakes fall from the sky like shimmering diamonds carried by the north wind. The last petals slip away to join in swirling dance. And in this fleeting moment just between the worlds, the great parade begins making way for Her arrival. Do you hear that sound? Like gentle cracks of ice touched by the rays of the sun. It’s shy Frost, the white artist, who tells stories of Her beauty. When you see his silver flowers blooming on the glass and frozen fractals speeding up the dance… better go inside for the Pale Lady is close. Nature bends under her cold touch and all around freezes at her command. Lost to the warmth of the sun like porcelain her skin. The Queen of a silent kingdom with eyes of piercing hue. All creatures bow to pristine beauty beyond this world. From soft mist she emerges covered in a white veil with a winter rose in her hands. Once a year when her time comes, she walks across the lands in search of a kindred soul. Are you the one who matches her heart?
Ancestors Awakening
My grandfather used to tell me stories of the very old days. When great shamans walked between us connecting people to the spirits of all things. Those shamans who gained the ability to link with the divine became hosts of powerful ancestral beings. They were not gods, yet still sacred and deeply worshiped across the nation. For they were the ones protecting the land from darkness. They kept us all in peace united like never before. People called them Prime Ancestors as they came before all else, at the beginning of things, at the dawn of the Creation. They were the only ones who heard the Lullaby and knew its words. It still makes me shiver when I think of it. It was said that this melody of power was the maker and destructor of worlds. The lines of the song like invisible strings woven between land, heaven, and all the living beings kept lurking evil at bay. Those times are gone, the ancestors are no longer with us, the song is lost and there’s nothing to protect us from the darkness. What happened to them you ask? Over the years beliefs turned into stories, stories into legends, and each one different. Some say that they sacrificed themselves to save humanity during the Dark Wars. Others believe that the taste of such power comes with consequences, it corrupted them. There are also those who claim they were simply mortals, great ones, but still just humans, the creation of shamans to raise their authority. Dead or alive, divine or mundane, they must be summoned. Forces that exist only to devour are spreading across the kingdom once more. I can almost see it, like black veins full of poison, corrupting people. Dark Wars are not over yet despite what others believe. Great Ancestors must be awakened and I’m the only one who can make that happen. The only one who still believes, just like my grandpa always did. The day he passed He said that the spirits of the Ancestors remained in the land. Those places reflect their power and knowledge. There I will find the answers.
The Seer
She sees beyond the shadows and unseen places of the soul. She speaks of truth and whispers about the things you fear the most.
Look into her all-seeing eye and face your demons. But do not seek for salvation in truth, for truth may change you forever.
Szeptucha (Whisperer)
Ancient stories tell of creatures that bloom under the starry night sky of spring. It is told that they whisper of truth. But only those who know how to listen and ask the right questions can hear their voices. What is it that you desire to know?
Whisper Catcher
Daughter of the night
Yet there was something she couldn’t heal – the pain of her broken heart. One winter night she lost the love of her life to the Spirit of the River. Now every time of full moon she goes to the stream and sings for the Spirit in hope that he would return her love back to her.
It was believed that the full moon enhances all desires of the heart, it is the time when the magic is the most powerful. Yet it’s also a very dangerous moment, the hour of spirits and ghosts when creatures from the Underworld come up to the earth in search of prays. One of them is Sirin, neither bird nor a woman, huntress of souls and messenger of death. Her biggest weapon is the voice so compelling that enchants the victims so the only thing they want is to follow her back to the Underworld and never stop listening.
That Night a sad song of Helena attracted one of the Sirins. When she saw a girl jealousy burst in her, for she knew that she could never compete with this power. As a silent huntress, she fell from the sky and pushed the young woman to the river. There was no one to hear the screams for help. When she opened her eyes there was nothing but darkness and moans of distressed souls echoing in the air. The Underworld. Tears filled the girl’s eyes and her aching heart sang of pain, sorrow, and loss. When the God of Death heard the melody he couldn’t resist but follow and when he saw a beautiful woman he immediately fell in love. He tried to talk to her but she wouldn’t stop crying. The fact that she will never feel the touch of the sun on her face ever again was unbearable. Even the Lord of Darkness has a heart so he proposed a deal. He would let her be among her people during the day but every night she would turn into a Sirin, bring lost souls to the Underworld and then sing to him until sunrise. And one day, when she would gather ten thousand souls she will be allowed to see her love. The man brought by the Spirit of the River to the gates of the Underworld. She agreed for there was no other way.
Years went by and the animal instinct began to take control over Helena. Every night she was losing her humanity more and more, spending time hunting with her bird-like sisters and singing for God. She started to forget who she really was, dwelling between two worlds yet belonging to neither. Then came the time when she brought the last promised soul. The god kept the agreement and took her to the one she loved. But the boy didn’t recognize her. There was more bird of prey in her now than a beautiful girl he once knew. Seeing the fear in his eyes broke her heart again. At that moment she knew that the only way to soothe the pain would be to stay as a Sirin forever. God knew it too, she was his since the very moment she entered the gates of Underworld.
Now the darkness is her home, the full moon a pale lover, and her sisters the best companions with whom she sings and hunts. She does not feel pain anymore for she became the true daughter of the night.
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