It's been awhile.

The door creaked open slowly, daylight shining into the dark room. He stood, scanning the room silently. Dust and cobwebs lay everywhere, as if the room hadn't been disturbed in years. He entered, small clouds of dust billowing into the air around his feet as he walked.

He stopped just before a cluttered desk, wiping a gloved hand over a large tome. No title was revealed, but a leathery cover and yellowed pages. He lifted the book, weighed it in his hand. He remembered it's importance, he remembered what it could do.

Turning slowly, his gaze settled on a bundle leaning against a bookshelf. He took a few steps and lifted the bundle in his free hand. It was a couple meters long, and wrapped in canvas. He set the book down on the shelf before unwrapping it. Within the canvas was an ornate staff, strange carvings along it's body, with a sapphire the size of a man's fist set on the top. A smile graced his grizzled features as he admired it.

He took the book once more before moving towards the doorway. He stopped just outside the door, the bright light blinding him for a moment. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the sunlight glaring in from the destroyed wall opposite the room. The structure, and those around it, were in ruins. On the horizon he saw large, snow covered mountains, fresh snow covering whatever it could.

He took a deep breath of the fresh air and smiled. His hood falling back to reveal long, blue hair, and sapphire eyes. He adjusted his glasses with an index finger, admiring the view.

"It has been awhile..."

[Exile of the Sun] The Alchemist - Page 2.

Here is the second page to the Alchemist Story. Written by myself and art by Randell Davis.

[Exile of the Sun] The Alchemist - Page 1.

Here's a page from the comic project with me and Randell Davis. Take a look at what's to come!

[Exile of the Sun] Origin Stories - Coming Soon!

For a project I'm working on, a 2D RPG titled "Exile of the Sun". I've asked a few artist friends of mine to help me out by doing some comics of the origin stories of characters within my game/story. Here is a preview page of what's to come with some art done by Randell Davis.

There will also be comics done by Allyson Novoa and Evan Cooper. The plan is to release a page of each comic once every two weeks. (That's three pages bi-monthly). Stay tuned for more pages!

Happy with a hole.

Happiness is great, happiness is grand,
But if there's a hole, then it's a lot like sand.
It falls through the cracks, it slips out the hole,
To fix this problem, try looking inside your soul.
Happiness is good, happiness is fine,
Where is the hole, how do I fill this gap of mine?
If it's like sand, then there is only one cure,
What you need is love like water, pleasant and pure.
So find your water, strengthen your sand.
Reach for the fires of passion, but don't burn your hand.
If you burn too bright, if the sand and water get too hot,
then your heart becomes like glass, strong it will be not.
So find the pure love, to strengthen the flowing happiness,
Burn with passion, fill the hole, that is your test.

Unwelcome.

I hate the rain.

Being in it, I mean. Rain is nice to watch from the comfort of your own home, splashing on your windows and making that nice pitter-patter sound that's a music all it's own.

I just hate being in the rain.

So, as I stood there, my head in the clouds and the pitter-patter on my fedora, my trench-coat soaked through only a couple of it's many layers (fortunately); I watched. I was looking for something, and while I knew, I didn't at the same time.

I hate the rain.

The mud squishing beneath my shoes, the water falling in trails from the corners of my hat. Who is this? It looks like a candidate. Are you who I'm looking for?

I just hate being in the rain.

The window is open a crack, just enough for anyone to peek inside and get a view of what lies within. Another layer of my coat becomes soaked. I take a few steps forward, the rain drowning out the sound of my muddy footsteps.

I hate the rain.

I nearly slip, grabbing a tree for balance. The sound might alert them to my presence, not yet. I don't want them to know I'm watching. It would be too soon and they'd be able to react!

I just hate being in the rain.

I get closer now, I can see them clearly. Tall, decent build. It's weird, you never expect them to look like that, or even that you're looking at them like this. I mean, c'mon, in the rain? Who does that?

I hate the rain.

I call out to them. They turn and look at me, frightened. Why is he here? How did he find me? What am I going to do? I hope they don't run. But, sure enough, they always do. I hear the screams of a surprised woman from the window. But that doesn't matter now.

I just hate being in the rain.

I tackle them, they're on the ground now. I bind their hands and flip them over so I can look in their eyes. They know what's going to happen next, I don't see how they can be surprised. I get them to their feet and move them to a better spot.

"You're under arrest." I say, as I lower their head and lock them in the back seat of my patrol car.

I hate the rain.

It can't wash away all of the dirt in this city.

Who?

I'm that guy, the one who listens. The one who dishes out advice that you're surprised he doesn't follow.

I'm an outsider, the guy on the sidelines, not quite in, and not quite out. I observe the problem with a cool mind and tell it like it is.

I'm that guy, the one who cares. The one who discusses philosophy or something as simple as hair.

I'm a mystery, the guy with his head in the clouds, not quite here, and not quite gone. I share bits and pieces to make you think.

I'm that guy, the one you expect to be there, but don't mind if he's gone. The one who you're sure will always show up again some day.

I'm a fool, the guy who is so set in his ways that at times he's blind to the opportunities in front of him.

I'm that guy, the one who entertains and hardly breaks down. To see him freak out is a rare sight indeed.

I'm a shadow, the guy who either drives you insane or makes you laugh.

I'm that guy. I'm just me. Now the only question is:

Who's that girl?