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Incantus of the Heart Ep. 9

When it seemed that luck was on the side of our session, here is a new powerful enemy: Nuvola Indigo. What will happen now?

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Incantus of the Heart Ep. 8

Here 's the eighth chapter of Incantus of the Heart! This time the Count De Grotteria Fey is a big trouble ... able to escape from our prisons of King Sindar?

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Incantus of the Heart Ep. 7

Incantus of the Heart takes you to the magical land of Filijan, including wizards, witches, warriors and dragons d 'bones! Here comes the new episode!

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There we are born, even if not biologically, a woman's charms. Here is what they are designed. The sketch of a design. In a few strokes the good ones, I mean the designers, are able to define what they want to be, what will ultimately be the idea that in an embryonic stage in their head, their fingers in their pencil or in pencil, then learn how to say. In that sea, in that blue, on those beaches where I roll, hiding among those rocks where I take refuge in those bays where explored. And 'Here that I grew up, formed as a draft of clay, volumes, proportions and shapes. The colors, sharp lines, details, everything else outside these shores.

And I never thought I could generate such an effect, such an emotion. Little things for the experts, for experts frivolous, unnecessary nuances to the most experienced. But when I walked through the crowd of those rooms, curious to see what works were displayed, how many, far smarter than me, were their languages, their ideas, communicate their messages, I saw the photo, the most painful I saw what it actually is my portrait, my biography. It was lit by spotlights that highlight the lights that made the midtones and blacks, blacks, blacks as the dark, the real one. When I saw the kid next to one end immersed in the light of a summer sunset. When I saw my dark side and stopped all my light, you silence every sound, every crowd noise ... and smiles .... "What a lovely Gaeta!"

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"I do not know what day it is, now they have gone too many to keep count. But I do know that forces are failing me, so I am left with what I decided leave to those who find my story, written on a piece of paper from someone forgot.
I also know that the year is 1785, and that this is a small estate in the countryside in London. My name is
MacRandal Seraphine, and I'm 16 years old. My parents, Lord and Lady MacRandal, died of pneumonia five years ago. Last year, died suddenly of typhoid well as my beloved grandfather, Stephan MacRandal that I had taken with them when they left mom and dad.

Oh, my sweet grandfather, the affection felt for him! So sweet, so kind, always ready to pamper and spoil me, as if I was a real princess, the daughter of two accounts instead fallen into disgrace. At his death, the sum of all my family came to me that there was not much, of course, just some jewelry, a pair of agricultural land and maintaining MacRandal, our property for generations. Burdensome task for a young girl.
Recently, however, wandered in the castle rumors of a ghost that appeared restless and alarmed at night. One night, she came to me to see him. I recognized him immediately: he was the spirit of my dear grandfather Stephan. Initially upset, I tried to approach him, but be honest I think it was him I would meet. I saw him upset: I grabbed his hands, but did not a lot of grip, looked at me with tender eyes and affectionate with difficulty and tried to whisper a phrase "... l.. .. I am."
I did not understand, but he vanished before they can try again.
The following night, I awoke with a start in my bed and he was there, in front of me and grabbed my hands again urlandomi ".. .. s my osto !!!". It vanished again. But this time I interpreted his words, I froze the blood "It was my place!"

You see, unfortunately, being a family in trouble, we could not have a private cemetery, but all members of MacRandal were placed in a common place with farmers land next door. But my grandfather was right: it was necessary to do so would make the appropriate honor. So now left with little savings, I build a small mausoleum on the property, complete with black iron gate and a small underground crypt isolated, so that nothing could disturb the sleep of my ancestors.
work is finished, I went down there, stroking the black coffin inscribed with the initials SMR, Mom and Dad. And suddenly there appeared
grandfather, taking me by surprise because, for a strange reason, I would not expect to find any way out of the castle. But I was so proud to be able to satisfy his desire, so that it finally rest peace in the place which he belonged, which was to run towards something different when I alerted.
was always my beloved grandfather, but no longer had that look warm and full of love in store for me whenever he caught myself staring at me, now her eyes were brimming with hatred and determination that felt like ice blades pierced his heart.

I did not have time to retreat, which immediately grabbed my wrists in an iron grip, locked in place. He approached me and stared at him with that fierce and determined, which made me freeze the blood in his veins. I stepped back, terrified and upset, perhaps in a stumbling stone and ruzzolai on the ground, banging his head. He rose above me and began to repeat his mantra that the louder, the ".... .. .. ..... I am! " but I still do not understand that his mask of blatant disregard for me. ".... .. My ...
the osto! " and in the meantime I groping backward, still lying on her back, trying to save me from this evil magnetism that leaves no way out, his head aching.
Until, finally, a horror and a terror never felt before, I could understand what had actually always wanted to say, but I, blinded by devotion I felt for him in life, I never rightly understood, "TU, In my place, "and was dissolved in a cold mist that penetrated me from the bone, slamming the gate trapped in this memorial chapel that had never really wanted to, if not groped to regain a life that would not be could never be his.
So his initials on my grave will now see that I, Seraphine MacRandal, will remain shut until my last breath within these walls that I built myself. "

Text and photos by Sara, Alex and Francesca

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Incantus Family Business of the Heart Ep. 6

Here's the sixth episode of the fantasy Incantus of the Heart!