Autor: João Felipe Brandão Jatobá

Glimpses of the Past

I

The steps of the woman echoed in a large well-lit chamber. The white marble floor glistening with the light of the early sun contrasted with her black attire. When she came into the passage north of the hall, she could not help but to grin.

“You know you are not him, my friend” She said. “Even if you wear ‘that’ to hide your face”.

From behind a column stepped out a slim figure wearing a fractured white mask…

“A jest… nothing more…” said the man from behind the mask, “Can you imagine if the Virtuoso visited Demacia? What would they do but despair?”

“That is what demacians do better… The country was founded on fear” noted the woman passing through the gateway, moving into the next room.

Countless bookshelves full of scrolls and books were laid parallel to the entrance. An empty central corridor made possible to see the opposite wall where a fresco of blue, gold and white dominated the view. As she expected, there was no one to be found inside this section of the library.

The masked man stayed on the entrance. “I shall leave you to your work. If needed, I’ll be at your side, Tenebrix” He said taking a bow.

The woman paced herself among the hundreds of tomes around her. She had come to this city looking for a specific book, a small account on the events that transpired years before in the outskirts of Demacia. The text itself was already known to her as her associates had uncovered its contents and location weeks before. But just as many demacian documents around her, some lies were inserted into the record.

But the truth would show itself to her. It always did.

She scanned the shelves until she found the one holding the document she was in search of: The Report on the Fall of the Vanguard near the Silent Forest.

A small troop of the Vanguard was ambushed and destroyed somewhere near the Silent Forest. Apparently, one of the strongest soldiers of the retinue wandered off the camp prior to an attack by an unknown force and for that he faced charges for abandoning his post. The report was the result of an investigation that followed the trial of said soldier. A scout made a sparse account of what he found after the occurrence. According to the report, no party was appointed as responsible for the attack and descriptions of the site told no greater details of what really happened.

Tenebrix took the small book and place it in a reading table nearby. The letters within may not tell the truth. But something else could.

This was her specialty.

Everything one does, one does with intent and emotion in mind. And this leaves a mark in the world. There was a vestige of what the writer felt and thought when making this report, intertwine in the crevices of the paper and in the pigments of ink. With a light touch, she forced the faint red essence out of the paper. When the smoke-like trail of magic reached her eyes, she closed them and felt…

II

…wrong.

There is something wrong here.

What do I know so far…

The vanguard was attacked.

Everyone died.

Magic was involved.

I’ve been part of the order for decades now, and part of the investigation task force for years, but I have never seen a site like this.

Something feels off…

When a mage attacks, it leaves behind traces of magic, but this, this doesn’t seem like any magic I’ve ever felt.

Even the Graymark doesn’t seem to react to it…

I must inform the Head Mageseeker right away, but this report cannot mention this: magic mageseekers can’t feel, track or stop…

Is this a new threat to Demacia?

I will come up with something vague for the archives… and report back to the higher-ups.

They will know what…

III

“to do…” said Tenebrix, coming out of the trance.

She could hear a commotion outside. Shortly after, her companion walked in, closing the door behind him, and announcing trouble was on the way.

“The guards I knocked out must have been found out” he said, “I fear it’s time to leave… that is… if you don’t want to make a scene…”

“Not today, Proudy. Let’s deal with them quickly.”

He already had his Hextech handgun out and ready.

The whole thing was going to be over before the guards knew what was happening. The duo stormed out, splitting up toward opposite sides of the hall. The first one to strike was Proudy, hitting his mark at the knee of a soldier and in the arm of another. Incapacitation was the aim, since there was no need for that skirmish to turn into a bloodbath.

While the guards were dumbfounded by the shots, Tenebrix moved to flank the squad, using the columns as cover. Out from her fingertips, crimson whips of pure energy lashed out . Two guards lost their footing.

As Tenebrix dashed closer. The last two guards still standing moved to strike her down with their swords, only to be stopped by Proudy, who shot both swords off their hands. With her palms full of energy, Tenebrix then chopped them unconscious.

The remaining guards in the floor were knocked out by Proudy, who with a sigh said: “Well, that was too easy…”

“We should be on our way before anyone else shows up. I’ll take these notes back with me. There is more to be extracted from them”.

Tenebrix began to walk away from the scene looking as inconvenienced as someone that has notice dust on her garments. With another bow, Proudy vanished in the shadows.

Up in the skylights of the library, a white crow with red eyes lingered watchfully. Then, with a raspy cry, it took flight.

Ecos

Em ecos se encerra meu dia
Reflexos aninhados das pesadas horas
Numa continua e vaga eucaristia
Das memórias falsas de mil agoras

Numa reação repetida
Ilusões permanecem aqui, vivas
E esqueço de maneiras sucessivas
Da ação sobre si revertida

Minha vida em ecos acontece
De novo as horas passam
Sempre passam e voltam
Apenas lembrança que se destece

Uma Tristeza

Tenho uma tristeza dentro de mim
Fria, afiada, doce
Deixo-me afundar nela de vez em quando
Sinto-lhe tomar conta de tudo
Permito-o pelo tempo que é preciso
Pois ela é parte minha
E não ouso mais fugir do que eu sou

Assim sou
Às vezes sim
Tão triste como um poeta calado

Somente Hoje

Eu sei bem que deveria, no passado, te deixar
Amanhã é um novo dia e eu preciso continuar
A viver

Não desisti de sonhar com um brilhante futuro
Mas é que agora o luar me parece mais escuro
Sem você

A noite sempre precede o romper da aurora
E as luzes voltarão a brilhar como outrora

Um dia irei sentir isso novamente
Repleto como as águas do mar
Mas hoje e hoje somente
Não quero deixar de te amar

A Ruína

A ruína não tinha paredes e teto
Sequer um umbral ainda mantinha
Somente o chão forrado de vinha
Delimitava seu desenho discreto

Lembro-me muito bem de quando
Passava todas as noites em claro
Sob as sombras do meu desamparo
Nesta casa perdida sonhanhando

Tornou-se aos poucos sem vida
No qual eu perdi muitos dias
Em promessas de amor vazias
Tal qual paixão interrompida

E está ruína não é outra senão
Meu ensimesmado frio coração

Canto para Cecília

Quem pode estar dizendo
Que não estou sonhando
Que não estou dormindo?
Continuo cantando
Mesmo que o som não saiam de mim
Enquanto a melodia houver
Sei que existirei enfim
Onde a música estiver

Matemático

Pensei ter achado
A equação do viver
Por anos ligado
às fórmulas do saber
Por mais que encontrasse
As variáveis da função
Nunca encontrei
Solução para solidão

Insano

Espírito meu
Do estase
Pela isso
Trocaria não e
Abertos olhos
Tenho pois
Especial sou
Perdeu coração
Seu que o ocultam
Sentimentos seus
que o aceita
Não mente
Sua que o vejo
Olhos loucos
Meus nos
Diferente
É tudo

A Flor

A flor murcha e morre
despe-se de si
vagarosamente corre
para deixar de ser

Abandona seu perfume
que a tantos encantava
e o rubro já desbotou
há muito tempo

Ficam no passado
lembranças dessa vida
pois só lá podem
se manter eternas

Not too shy

What is beauty worth if not
To be enjoyed by its holder
To be kept ever on thought
To be worn over and over

Judgment is but a whim
Of those who are not free
Of mind or filled with glee
Souls solid and grim

May it give us a choice
In view of the grace
The truth then embrace
Life does has a voice

And it calls us to see
Beauty calls us to thee