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  • Writer
    Alcaeus
    Alcaeus
    The funny part is, I always knew exactly what I was going to write here until the moment came that I actually needed to write it. That's the thing about words, I suppose. They flow perfectly until you need them.

    Anyway, I guess I should really start by saying hello. So here it is, my hello. It's not really the greatest greeting in the world but there really isn't any other way to start.

    I tend to favour poetry, or writing incredibly long novels that I can never figure out. Why? Because I feel as though I really am terrible at writing any sort of short story and therefore almost immediately switch to whatever it is I feel I am good at, i.e. long novels. In the past year or so I feel as though I've greatly improved in most of my awfulness, but then again, there's always some room for improvement.

    But that's all the writing themed stuff about me. Apart from that I don't believe there's anything left to talk about that you may actually be interested in. I could, of course, say that outside of here I write a blog entitled 'The Life of Maximilian Denvers', which is supposed to be some sort of ironic take on extreme fangirling. Something like that. You can always look at it if you want to.

    I am also very active on DeviantArt and on Shelfari if you care about either of those. Once again, you can look if you want to.

    So there you have it. Me, in a nutshell.
    I hope you enjoyed this little tour through my life.

    ((DeviantArt - lysssssa.deviantart.com - )
    ((Shelfari - shelfari.com/poaly1998 - )
    See more
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The Chronicles of Artecreage
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My name is Jex. It wasn’t always Jex, but before it was something I cannot remember. The thought was branded out of me with fire and red hot pokers when I was finally bought.

My head was shaved, so that some slavekeeper could burn the Xolan coat of arms into my scalp. A serial number was carved into the base of my neck, and my shoulder too had the Royal Seal etched onto it.

I passed the first ten years of my life being trained to be a slave and then, on my eleventh birthday, I was taken to be named by the Prince.

Being named always sounded like it would be a great moment, but when the day came I found it somewhat dull. I was dragged out of one of my training sessions and taken to wherever the seven year old Prince was playing.

He seemed so confused by what he was doing. He did not wish to be interrupted from his games to name a slave, albeit it being his first.

“I don’t want to,” he said, looking upset.

“Please, your Highness. It is your duty to do so.”

He moaned for several minutes and then stated simply: “His name is Jex.”

And so I was named.

I wish I could say that was the day I established a firm friendship with the Prince and that we have been close ever since. However, that would not be the truth.

I did not see the Prince very often because, although I was a young slave, I was given tasks elsewhere in the palace, or even as a delivery boy outside the grounds in the city of Rixen. We did not actually speak again until I was thirteen and he ten.

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