domawriter - Tumblr blog

[domawriter]

Stone 4

They arrived at a secluded chamber, its heavy doors opening to reveal a space dimly lit by the flicker of ancient oil lamps. The room was cluttered with strange contraptions and scattered blueprints, but at its center stood the machine—a complex assembly of gears, levers, and glimmering dials. It was both imposing and intricate, a testament to Frank's obsession with his creation. Frank's eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and nervousness as he gestured toward the machine.  

“Here it is,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though afraid to disturb the fragile hope that hung in the air. 

“This is what you’ve been working on?” Kamilah asked, his voice laced with skepticism and awe.  Frank nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he pointed to various parts of the contraption.  

“It’s designed to navigate the threads of time,” he explained, his tone earnest. “It can take us back to a specific moment, a point in time before everything went wrong. If we can pinpoint the exact moment and make the right changes, we might be able to set things right. I think”  Kamilah’s gaze was sharp, his tone demanding, as he cut through Frank’s tentative explanation. 

“What do you mean, ‘I think’?”  Frank hesitated, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. He glanced at the machine, then back at Kamilah, his nerves evident.  

“I—” he began, but his voice faltered. “I’ve done everything I can to ensure it works. I’ve tested it, and the theory is sound. But time travel is… unpredictable. Even with all the calculations and precautions, there’s a chance that things might not go as planned. There could be consequences we can’t foresee.” 

Kamilah's frustration boiled over, his patience wearing thin. “I don’t care,” he growled, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Make it work.”  Frank flinched slightly at the raw edge in Kamilah’s voice, but he nodded, his determination steeling in the face of the pharaoh’s demand. Without another word, he moved swiftly, gathering the fragments of the shattered statue. Frank turned to the machine, his fingers trembling as he adjusted the dials and levers with a combination of urgency and precision. The contraption, an intricate network of brass and steel, began to whir to life, its mechanisms coming alive with a series of clicks and hums. The gears interlocked smoothly, their polished surfaces catching the faint light and reflecting it with a metallic sheen. As the machine powered up, a soft blue glow began to emanate from within its core. The light pulsed rhythmically, casting an ethereal luminescence that danced across the walls of the chamber. The chamber, dimly lit by flickering oil lamps, was transformed by this otherworldly illumination. Shadows stretched and writhed on the stone walls, creating an almost surreal, dreamlike atmosphere. In this moment of intense, concentrated effort, time seemed to stretch and blur, the room vibrating with the sheer force of their endeavor. The machine’s components moved with increasing speed, their actions synchronized in a final, crucial attempt to bridge the gap between past and present.  Frank's voice echoed in the room as the dust slowly settled, revealing the outline of a figure. "It worked!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. He was about to approach the statue, but froze in his tracks. Standing before him was not a lifeless statue but a living, breathing Ruby. 

[domawriter]

Stone 3

One day, as he sat on his throne, lost in thought, a familiar voice pierced the thick walls of the palace. It was distant at first, but the urgency and desperation in it grew louder with each passing second. 

"I need to see him!" Frank's voice echoed through the grand hall, carrying a mix of frustration, determination, and something that sounded like desperation. The guards tried to restrain him, but Frank struggled against them, his shouts becoming more insistent.  The sound of Frank's voice sent a jolt through Kamilah, his body tensing in response. For a brief moment, he remained motionless, his emotions a confusing mix of anger, intrigue, and a feeling he wasn't prepared to acknowledge. He had believed that by avoiding Frank, by leaving his letters unopened, he could create a divide between himself and the pain of the past. But now, with Frank standing there, demanding his attention, that separation collapsed instantly.  The guards were dragging Frank toward the exit, his protests echoing off the stone walls, when Kamilah’s voice finally cut through the commotion—cold, commanding, impossible to ignore.  

“Let him through.” 

A sudden, heavy silence fell over the room. The guards froze, their hands still gripping Frank's arms as they looked to Kamilah for confirmation. The pharaoh gave a single nod, and the guards released Frank, who stumbled forward, gasping for breath but refusing to falter. His eyes, wide with desperation, locked onto Kamilah’s, searching for any sign of the man he once knew. Kamilah stood up from his throne with a purposeful, languid motion, his face concealed behind a mask. He was every bit the ruler who had endured countless storms. Yet, despite the stoic facade, his heart betrayed him, quickening its beat within his chest as it was laced with emotions he tried to hide. The room was filled with a stifling tension, the air saturated with the weight of mixed emotions . Frank stood his ground, though his breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the effort it took to remain upright. His eyes never wavered from Kamilah’s, though the intensity of the pharaoh’s gaze was enough to make even the bravest man flinch. Frank had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his mind, but now that he was here, facing the full force of Kamilah’s wrath,

the words he had planned seemed to dissolve in his throat.  Kamilah’s eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through Frank as if he were trying to see into the depths of his soul. His voice, when it finally came, was as sharp as a blade, cutting through the silence with chilling precision.   “What could you possibly have to say, Frank, that you think would matter now?” 

Frank swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of Kamilah’s words like a blow. But he didn’t back down. He couldn’t. 

“I know you’re angry,” Frank began, his voice trembling at first but gaining strength as he continued. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But you need to know—what I’ve done, what I’ve discovered—it can change everything.” 

Kamilah’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, his energy grew colder, as if the very mention of change was an insult. “Change?” he echoed, his tone laced with disbelief. “Do you think anything can undo what’s been done?” 

Frank took a shaky step forward, his hands clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles turned white. His voice trembled with desperation, a plea that had been building for months, now spilling out in a rush. “We can go back.” he said, his breath catching in his throat, “I’ve built a machine—something that can take us back in time. We can change the moment before everything fell apart. We can fix this, Kamilah. We can go back to the time when her stone was whole. We can fix her.”  Frank’s eyes searched Kamilah’s posture, desperately seeking any sign of recognition, any crack in the pharaoh’s impenetrable exterior. His gaze was intense, almost pleading, as if he could will Kamilah to feel the urgency, the hope, the desperation that he himself was barely holding together. But Kamilah’s expression remained a mask of regal detachment, each feature perfectly controlled, revealing nothing of the turmoil beneath. It was as though he had locked his emotions away, hidden behind walls so thick and high that nothing could penetrate them. Frank’s eyes searched Kamilah’s face, desperately seeking any sign of recognition, any crack in the pharaoh’s impenetrable exterior. But the pain was there, sharp and insistent, reminding him that he was not as invulnerable as he pretended to be. It whispered to him of what could have been, what might still be if he dared to believe in the impossible. Yet, with that whisper came doubt—could they really go back? Could they really undo the damage that had been done? 

Frank’s voice, trembling with emotion, reached him through the fog of his thoughts. “Please, Kamilah,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “we can try. For her.”  For a long moment, Kamilah stood quietly, his face betraying nothing of the turmoil within. He met Frank’s gaze, the intensity of the emotions swirling in his chest tempered by the icy control he had forced upon himself. He couldn’t afford to show weakness, not now. But despite his best efforts, the flicker of hope that Frank’s words had ignited refused to be fully extinguished. It lingered, faint but persistent, urging him to at least entertain the possibility that there might be a way to reclaim what had been lost. 

“Show me the machine,” Kamilah said at last, his voice firm, yet betraying the smallest hint of something softer, something more human. 

[domawriter]

Stone 2

Days passed, but Frank was undeterred. Though he had been banished, he found a way to reach out to Kamilah, hoping to break through the pharaoh’s grief. He began to send letters, carefully written and delivered under the cover of darkness. Each one contained a single message, repeated in different words, trying to convey the magnitude of what he had accomplished. 

“Kamilah, I’ve done it. I’ve built a machine that can take us back in time. We can undo this. We can make things right again.” 

Kamilah left Frank's letters unopened, his rage too fierce to entertain even a flicker of forgiveness. Those letters, potentially full of explanations, apologies, and desperate hope, lay neglected, collecting dust as the days blurred into weeks and the weeks into months. Kamilah poured himself into the relentless duties of his rule, using the demands of the kingdom as a shield against the storm of emotions swirling within him. He told himself he was too busy, too consumed with the affairs of state to concern himself with the past, but in truth, his heart had become a fortress, its gates sealed shut to anything that might threaten to soften his resolve. Kamilah's anger simmered beneath his skin, a slow burn that had never quite extinguished. It was like a constant pain, always there, flaring up whenever he was reminded of what he had lost, of the loss of trust that could never be fully restored. In the quiet moments, when the weight of his crown felt too heavy and the palace halls too empty, the resentment would surface, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. It was then that he would glance at the stack of letters, still sitting untouched on a shelf in his private chambers. A part of him wanted to burn them, to rid himself of the reminder that Frank had once been close enough to hurt him so deeply. But another part, buried beneath layers of pain and pride, wasn’t ready to let go completely. The letters served as a reminder, however tenuous and tattered, of a connection he was not quite ready to completely abandon yet. Yet each time he tried to reach out, the anger would well up in his chest. The flames of rage would consume any hope of reconciliation, and he would pull back, leaving the letters untouched, his heart even more hardened than before.  

[domawriter]

Stone

The sprawling garden was a testament to both the wealth and the vision of the palace that it surrounded. Every inch of it was meticulously groomed, a living canvas sculpted by the hands of expert gardeners who seemed to move with the precision of artists. They trimmed the grass to an even, velvety blanket, and planted each flower with a careful eye, ensuring that nothing was left to chance in this masterpiece of nature and design. The flower beds, arranged with the kind of order that spoke of both discipline and devotion, were filled exclusively with white blossoms. Each petal gleamed like a star beneath the sun’s warm gaze, creating a sea of luminous purity that seemed almost otherworldly. The whiteness of the flowers was not simply beautiful; it was symbolic—a reflection of the divine, of purity, of the sacred ideals that the palace itself embodied. The smell of fragrant roses mixed with the scent of nearby jasmine. The two fragrances intertwined like lovers in a dance, filling the senses with a heady, almost dreamlike quality. It was a place where the cares of the world seemed to dissolve, carried away on the gentle breeze that whispered through the leaves. The garden was as opulent as it was beautiful. The lawns were covered in white sand that shimmered like powdered pearls underfoot. Scattered across this landscape were statues of gold, each one a perfect likeness of the powerful gods and goddesses that the people held in deep reverence. These statues weren’t just decorations; they felt like the gods themselves, watching over the garden with their cold, metallic eyes, their faces calm and all-knowing. When the sunlight hit them, the gold seemed to come alive, casting shimmering reflections that danced across the garden, as if the gods were gracing the earth with their presence. 

The little bird fluttered around the garden, landing on the edge of a flowerbed to rest after a long flight. As it sat there, it took in the array of colorful flowers and the calming sound of a nearby fountain. Suddenly it was drawn to a grand statue standing majestically among the flora. The bird tilted its head, curious about the imposing figure, and started to inspect it. The little bird flew up to the statue. It was different from all the others. It was as if it was made of stone. It was not as ornate as the other statues. Additionally, it seemed... alive? The statue was of an older woman. She was smiling, and her eyes seemed to sparkle. The statue was placed in a beautiful, grand gazebo. Around her, yellow lilies grew, which stood out beautifully among the pristine white flowers. The bird, feeling a shiver of unease, decided to investigate further. It circled the statue, studying it from all angles. The stone was cold and smooth, but the lifelike details of the woman's form made the bird wonder if there was more to the statue than met the eye. Suddenly the bird was shooed away by someone's hand. Startled, the bird fluttered away from the statue. It perched on a nearby branch, surveying the garden for any sign of the mysterious person who had interrupted its investigation.    The Pharaoh of Egypt - Kamilah. He has come. The pharaoh strode through the gazebo, regal and imposing in his gold-edged robes. As he approached the statue standing sentinel among the flowers, Kamilah slowed, his usual confident stride faltering. The statue was of his lover, her face captured in a moment of serene contemplation. Time had not eroded the fine details of her features; each line and curve had been lovingly preserved in the cool, unyielding stone. Kamilah stopped before her, and for a long moment, the air between them was thick with unspoken words. His posture softened, and the iron-clad tension that usually gripped his body melted away, leaving only the man beneath the robes and crown. The bird, perched high above in the branches, watched the scene unfold, its small heart quickening with curiosity. What did this mighty ruler feel as he stood before this stone image? The bird tilted its head, pondering the mysteries hidden behind Kamilah's mask. The eyes are a mirror to the soul but when they are covered, everything is a mystery. Kamilah's hand rose slowly, almost hesitantly, until his fingers brushed the stone cheek of the sculpture. He traced the lines of the woman's face, his touch so gentle it was as though he feared the stone might shatter under his fingers. There was a reverence in his movements, a tender care that spoke of a connection far deeper than mere admiration ; it was an acknowledgment, a conversation between the past and the present, between the living and the immortalized. 

"Hey!"  Kamilah jumped, startled."Frank, didn't I tell you not to sneak up on me like that?" he snapped, running his hand through his long hair. "You'll give me a heart attack." 

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Frank, a tall, slender boy, slowly ascended the steps leading to the gazebo. The metallic clanking of his prosthetic leg echoed loudly off the marble tiles, announcing his arrival. 

"Why did you come?" Kamilah asked with irritation, turning to face the grey-haired young man, but he was nowhere to be seen.  

"Well, I wanted to tell you something..." he heard him say from behind. Kamilah quickly turned around. Frank was completely relaxed, lounging against the statue as if it were a comfortable armchair. One arm was wrapped around it in a casual embrace, while the other hand traced the chin of the girl in the sculpture.   

"Leave her alone," Kamilah took a step towards him. The boy raised his hands in a defensive gesture.  

"Calm down, I won't hurt her," he chuckled. As Frank stumbled backwards, he stumbled over his leg. He reached out to grab onto something, but his hand hit the stone surface of the statue instead, knocking it over. Frank’s stomach dropped as the last piece of the shattered statue skittered across the floor. The sound seemed to echo in the stillness, each tiny clink a reminder of the enormity of what had just happened. He looked up, his eyes wide with fear, to see Kamilah standing frozen, his face drained of color. What was he going to do now? Had Frank just signed his own death warrant? Kamilah stumbled towards the nearest bench but his legs gave way before he could reach it, sending him crashing to his knees. He picked up a piece of the shattered statue, his hands trembling as he handled the broken stone.  

“Kamilah, I’m so—” he started, but his words were cut off as Kamilah gasped, his chest heaving with sudden, frantic breaths.  The world around him began to collapse inward, like the walls of a dark, suffocating tunnel. His heart pounded violently against his ribcage, each beat resonating in his ears like the deafening thud of war drums. His mind raced with a barrage of fragmented thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. He gasped for air, but it felt like he was drowning, his breath coming in rapid, shallow bursts. He clutched at his chest, desperate to regain control, but the harder he tried, the worse it became. A choked sob escaped his throat as the tears finally began to flow, his body shaking with the force of his breakdown. The panic attack reached its peak, and he was left utterly powerless, curled up on the ground, trapped in the chaos of his own mind.  “Breathe, just breathe,” Frank said, stepping forward, but his voice was shaky, betraying the panic creeping into his own veins. He reached out to touch Kamilah’s arm, to steady him, but the second his fingers brushed against his skin, Kamilah recoiled as if he had burned him. 

“Don’t!” he snapped, his voice sharp and brittle, laced with a terror that made Frank's heart race even faster. “You don’t understand... That- She was...” He couldn’t finish the sentence, his words dissolving into choked sobs.  

“Kamilah, I— I didn’t mean to,” Frank stammered, his mind spinning as he tried to think of something, anything, to say that would make this right. But each word seemed to make things worse, the panic in his movement deepening with every breath he struggled to take. 

"Just stop!" He roared, tears flowing freely beneath his mask. His bandages transformed into writhing snakes, coiled and ready to strike.  He stood tall, his chest still heaving from the remnants of the panic that had gripped his moments before, his anger palpable as he stood amidst the chaos. The broken statue lay in pieces at his feet, each fragment a testament to the deep betrayal he felt. The air around him seemed to crackle with energy, as if the garden itself was responding to his wrath.   

Frank took a hesitant step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd seen Kamilah angry before, but never like this. The very air around them seemed charged, crackling with a dangerous energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He opened his mouth to apologize, to plead, but the words died on his tongue as Kamilah's voice cut through the tension, sharp and cold. 

"Get out!" Kamilah's voice was a thunderous command. The snakes hissed in unison, echoing their master's fury as they lashed out towards Frank, stopping just short of striking him. Frank flinched, the metallic clank of his prosthetic leg loud in the oppressive silence as he stumbled back. His mind was a whirl of confusion and fear. He wanted to explain, to make Kamilah understand that it had been an accident and that they can fixed it.   

"Please, Kamilah, I—" Frank started, his voice trembling, but Kamilah silenced him with a glare that sent a chill down his spine. 

"I said, leave!" Kamilah's voice was raw, the finality in his tone unmistakable. The snakes snapped closer, their hissing growing louder, and Frank had no choice but to retreat.  As Frank disappeared from view, the garden seemed to exhale, the tension in the air dissipating as Kamilah stood alone among the wreckage. The snakes slowly retracted, the bandages resuming their place around his body as his anger began to subside, replaced by an overwhelming sense of loss. He sank to his knees once more, his fingers trembling as he reached for a fragment of the broken statue. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but this time, they were silent, a quiet mourning for what had been destroyed.  

[domawriter]

[domawriter]

[domawriter]

[domawriter]

Chapter 2

The door opened and a tall girl in a violet pajamas appeared. Fear and confusion was on her face. "What's going on-" she began and looked at the floor where the things he had trown were. " What are you doing?! It's 5 in the morning people try to sleep!" The boy hung his head and started biting his thumbnail. "Nothing," he mumbled as he walked up to her, "I'll will clean here up" "Everything is okay?" "she looked behind him. "Are you still trying to find her? She grouched down so as to look into his eyes. He kept silent but that was enough to answer her question. "Brother it's no use, give up". The silence between them was long. Both knew that it was true but one did not want to give up. His sister embraced them both, not knowing whom she wanted to comfort with this gesture. The brother, because he cannot find the girl he loves or herself because she sees how day by day she is losing her brother.

[domawriter]

Chapter 1

"Aghh!" The cry of frustration pierced the room. In the small cluttered room, a hunched figure sat at the desk. Old magazines, history books about Eston, crumpled papers and maps of this city were on the desk. He was digging his hands into his head, pulling at his hair, for the hundredth time reading the newspaper headline "Fire at St. Teresa's Hospital". He slumped exhausted on the chair. Staring at the ceiling, he said to himself out loud: "Fire at St. Teresa's Hospital... Hundreds od people died. Including Rose... and me..." He closed his eyes tight, the memory of flames, the smell of burning flesh. "I swear," the young man muttered to himself, "I am going to find out how this fire started." He clenched his fists and muscles in his arms trembled with the force of his anger. He was determined to find answers, to bring closure to the memory that haunted him. He felt havy, his head was beating from thinking. For Several hours, he tried to find something about the hospital fire. All in vain. Swifty, he got up and in rage threw everything off the desk, including the lamp, which shattered on the floor. Angrily, he kicked the books that were now on the floor. He was about to continue demolishing his room when he heard footsteps approaching door.

[domawriter]

A fragment from my other book:

Elio ran to the redheaded boy.

"Saki!" he spread his arms to hug the boy, but he was stopped by him.

"S-Saki? Is something wrong?" the boy asked, confused. He tried to make eye contact but in vain.

 "We should break up." His voice was almost a whisper, but the words echoed clearly in the silence of the night, ringing between them. The moonlight shone on their faces as a light wind tousled their hair. Saki wrapped his arms around himself, still looking at the sidewalk.

“What?” Elio froze completely, feeling his chest tighten and his blood run cold. With a sharp inhale, he looked at Saki like he had just stabbed him. It hurt. So badly.

"You're joking, right?" His voice cracked as he said it. He reached out his hands to the boy, but he stepped back. Elio studied him with his eyes, hoping that Saki would soon smile and say that it was a cruel joke...but that did not happen.  A lump formed in his throat, and a million thoughts swirled in his head. The realization that he was losing him filled him with fear.

"N-no it's imposible— what's going on– Saki?"

Saki looked at his hands that he was fidgeting with. He picked at the skin around his nail until he saw a trickle of red fluid.

"I lost feelings for you... It—it never made sense from the beginning—"

"What do you... mean you've lost feelings for me..?" 

“Honestly, I just fell out of love with you. It's as simple as that..” Saki shrugged and clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"So that's it?"

“ Y-yeah...feelings can change. One day you can love someone and the next day you lose feelings for them. Feelings, love and crushes aren't permanent-" He could hardly even speak. His voice was shaky, breaking and fragile. "T-the love feelings can disappear in just a blink of an eye. No specific reason is needed for the feelings to go away..."

"What are you talking about?!" Elio interrupted him. "And how did it not make sense? We were happy! You didn't complain about anything!"

"Because we were happy, that's right, but—"

"But what?! What did I do wrong?!" Even though he desperately didn't want to cry, tears burned in his eyes, blurring his vision.

He grabbed Saki by the shoulders and shouted through his tears "What did I do wrong?! Tell me! I'll fix it!". Saki looked at him for the first time.

He opened his mouth, hesitating to say anything, his eyes darting around at Elio’s tear-stained face. His heart was beating painfully fast, he was afraid that Elio would hear the beat of his heart.

He looked at him with a painful gaze. He was on the verge of crying, too.

"I... I just wish you were a girl.." His voice was increasingly filled with tears, and he felt his muscles ache as he clenched his teeth.

Elio’s chest ached as reality set in, a feeling of sadness mixed with anger filled his body. Tears streamed down Elio's cheeks, one after the other. An entire sea of tears. After those words, Elio was sure that his heart had indeed broken.

"Just.. like that..?" Elio let out a pathetic cry. He bent forward, unable to stop crying. His shoulders shook as he tried to catch his breath between sobs.

Saki felt a tear escape his eye. He could feel his body shaking as he fought the urge to move closer to Elio and say goodbye for one last time. To kiss him one last time. To hold him tight like the world was ending but all he did was turn and walk away.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled under his breath.

"I fucking loved you!" Saki heard a desperate scream behind him.

Elio clawed at his shirt, trying to wipe away his face. His shoulders rose and fell irregularly as he fought with himself, trying to stop sobbing.

"How— how can you just walk away?!" He leaned against a tree. His knees buckled as he fell to the ground once again. His chest throbbed with each sob he released.

Saki had walked a considerable distance, but he could still hear Elio's screams and sobs. Tears streamed down his face. His mind screamed at him to stop and to run back to hold Elio in his arms. But he knew he couldn't. It was too far gone to fix anything between them.

[domawriter]

Prologue

The feels himself start to wail while running, the exhaustion is so severe his ankles roll and he loses balance, falling down on some rocks while his knees get cut.

He panics when he cannot get up again. "Rosel" his throat is raw, his hands grip the grass around with so much force his fingernails stab his hand.

"Rose?! Where are you?!" Curling against himself he keeps on crying, everything he hears are his wails, desperate and pained.

"Rose!" he yells again. Out of his perspective, someone approached, clicking their heels.

"You see now, my child? Fate knows its way and purpose. "The Death gently smiled. "Be born again but never forget. That's your fate"

And he falls

[domawriter]

What would you do if you lost your beloved and rebirth again? Would you seek out your beloved person in your new life? Or would you decide to fall in love with someone else?

Derek died in the same fire as his beloved did. He was reincarnated but he remembered everything from his previous life. He believes Rose also reincarnated and wants to find her.

Rose was reincarnated without any memories of her previous life. until down. a She lives a peaceful life until certain boy turns it upside

Will Derek manage to convince Rose that they are meant to be? Will they discover the mystery of the fire?