Banned because Mars, spare us please....

You have liked this post!

banned because I generated that story with chatgpt

You have liked this post!

banned because AI

You have liked this post!

banned because
Glenn Miller. He was probably the most popular big band musician at one point. His music was known far and wide, until he went missing on December 15th. His plane had taken off, and simply disappeared. There are many theories as to what happened to him. Bombed down by friendly fire, a plane crash, a government cover up, or maybe Miller was a government spy. In this essay I will explain why I believe that this tragedy was no more than what the government says it was, a plane crash.

On December 15th Miller took off on a Norseman C64, going from England to Paris. This particular day, the weather was atrocious. Enough to bring most planes down, let alone a Norseman C64, as there had already been 8 other planes of this model that had trouble with the carburetor heater, so it is quite possible that the carburetor heater of the plane that Miller was on had frozen and dropped them directly into the English Channel below. The English Channel is extremely large, from the middle of the channel you can’t see land on either side, it would be far too easy for the weather to drag any passing plane down into the channel, never to be seen again due to the incredible depth of the waters.

That’s not the only possible reason for the plane crash. Miller had been told he had to wait a day for the weather to clear up, but a man by the name of Bayzel had been getting ready to fly to Paris that day anyway, and had offered Miller a ride. Bayzel’s flight had not been cleared, but he was so used to getting his way that he took off on the unauthorized flight anyway. It was possible that Bayzel had been disoriented, after all, any pilot could have looked at the weather and concluded that it was a poor idea to fly through it. Another thing that points to possible disorientation is the fact that they had no parachutes. The weather was awful enough, surely anybody who planned to fly would have at least thought of packing a couple of parachutes in case of a crash? But Bayzel had taken off anyway, through horrible weather, with no parachutes, over the English Channel.

A counter argument could be that the plane had been bombed down. The flight was unauthorized, and this was in WWII, so it’s possible that Bayzel had crossed paths with bomb planes and been shot down. Nobody even knew that Miller had been on that flight until the 24th. The bomb planes would have had no warning about crossing paths with another plane, as the plane was not supposed to be up at all, so it’s reasonable to assume that they would have assumed this plane to be an enemy and shot it down. I do not have evidence to debunk this claim, in fact, I think this is a completely plausible claim. Though I do believe that it had simply been trouble with the carburetor heater, Glenn Miller’s disappearance wouldn’t have been a mystery if it was that easy to find out what happened, in fact, this could have even been the reason for the plane crash.

You have liked this post!

banned because I could do better if u give me a sec

You have liked this post!

banned because my bread is haqrd and it curnc hy

You have liked this post!

banned because We were not the first people in America. I’m sure that most people know that already, but I’m writing this to educate you on one of the many native tribes of North America, the Blackfeet.

The native Blackfeet have inhabited the land between Saskatchewan in Canada and North Yellowstone in Montana for nearly one hundred years. There are 3 closely related groups of Blackfoot Indians, the Bloods, the Peigan, and the Siksika (often referred to as the northern blackfoot). The three groups are often called the Blackfoot confederacy. Nobody truly knows the origin of the blackfoot or their name, but there are many folk stories about it. One of these folk stories states that Old Man married a female dog and the descendants of this pair were real boys and girls, which were then the first Blackfeet. Another folk story says that an old an rubbed black medicine on one of the son’s feet, this black medicine allowed the son to run fast enough to get right beside a fat cow and kill her with one arrow, the father then gave that son a new name, Siks-i-ka'ho, or Blackfoot. That became the name of Siks-i-ka'ho’s children too, and hence the blackfeet were born. There are of course many other theories and stories of how the Blackfeet may have gotten their name but we perhaps may never know whether one of them is correct.

The Blackfeet’s land was often invaded by neighboring tribes such as the Crow and Cheyanne on the south and the Cree, Assiniboine, and Sioux to the east. An example of one of the wars that Blackfeet took part in is The Battle of Belly River. On Oct. 25, 1870 the last battle between the indigenous people of the Canadian prairies began. This battle was between the Blackfoot and the Cree. Before this war began the Blackfeet had been hit by an outbreak of smallpox, this epidemic wiped out half of the Blackfeet’s number. A war chief of the Cree believed that since smallpox had wiped out a great number of Blackfoot fighters the Blackfoot would no longer have many people to fight, and the Cree therefore could win the battle. The Cree first sent a war party to a small Blood camp, unaware it was only a part of the larger camp along the river and that the small group had better rifles than they did. The Cree killed almost everybody in the Blood camp, the only survivor being a boy who had hidden himself, after the Cree left the camp the boy ran to the main camp and warned the Bloods of the war party, the commotion and gunfire alerted nearby Blackfoot who joined the Bloods in battle. The fighting continued on until daybreak. Because of the larger number of Blackfoot arriving the Cree were pushed back towards the river, for the next four hours the two tribes exchanged fire. In total, 300 Cree had died while only 40 Blackfoot had died. The Blackfoot were victorious at the end of the battle.

Today the Blackfeet live in three reservations in Canada and one in Browning, Montana. The reservation in Montana has 17,000 members, making them the biggest tribe in Montana and one of the largest in the United States. According to americanindianpartnership.com, “Today you will find Blackfeet in all walks of life, on the reservation and around the world. We have an array of tribally-owned and tribal-member owned businesses on the reservation and off, and we are aggressively starting new businesses and training our people for new careers.” The Blackfoot Confederacy call themselves Niitsítapi, which means original people. Blackfeet still live on the ancestral land that they have for thousands of years and say that while other people might find it too hot, cold, or windy, they wouldn’t live anywhere else. There are 566 tribes in the United States, while only 6 of them still live on their ancestral lands, the Blackfoot of course being one of them.

Overall, today the Blackfeet live somewhat similarly to people in modern-day society, working normal jobs and going to school, but they still make sure to stay true to their ancestral roots. You can visit the Blackfoot Reservation in Montana for a guided or self-guided tour of the many points of interest in the reservation, though keep in mind that tribe permits are needed for any recreational activities on the Blackfoot nation.

You have liked this post!

banned because
**The Whispering Pines**

Deep in the heart of a forgotten valley, nestled between jagged cliffs and mist-covered forests, there existed a small, secluded village known as Pine Hollow. The village was hidden from the outside world, its inhabitants living in quiet harmony with the land. It was a place of beauty, where wildflowers bloomed in every corner and the sun’s rays rarely broke through the thick canopy of pine trees. Pine Hollow, however, had its secrets, and the most mysterious of these secrets were the ancient trees that stood tall, dark, and silent, guarding the village like sentinels.

Legend had it that the pines could speak—though few dared to believe it.

The villagers had always been aware of the eerie presence of the forest, especially the great pines that stood in the center. At night, the wind would stir their branches, creating strange, melodic whispers that seemed to drift through the air like a forgotten song. Children would tell tales of the trees’ voices, speaking in riddles, but no adult ever spoke of it directly. They simply went about their lives, avoiding the forest after dusk.

Among the villagers was a young woman named Isla. She had grown up with the stories of the Whispering Pines, but unlike many of the other children, Isla had never been frightened by them. She was curious, a lover of books and stories, always seeking to uncover the truth behind the strange folklore that surrounded Pine Hollow. Her mother, a healer known for her wisdom, had taught her to respect the forest, to never venture too deep into it, but Isla’s heart longed to know more.

One summer evening, as dusk began to fall, Isla sat on the edge of the village square, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink. Her long, dark hair was tousled by the gentle breeze, and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity. The day had been warm, the kind of day where the air felt thick with possibility. She had spent the afternoon gathering herbs in the forest's edge, as she often did, but something about the evening felt different. There was an energy in the air, a hum that she could feel deep in her bones.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her friend, Elias, approached. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with wild, unruly brown hair and a carefree smile that could light up any room. He was the village’s best hunter, a man of few words but a deep connection to the land.

“Isla,” Elias said, his voice carrying an odd note of urgency. “The elders are gathering at the lodge. They’ve called for you.”

Isla stood up, surprised. “Me? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Elias said, his brow furrowed. “But it’s serious. They want you there now.”

Without waiting for her response, Elias turned and started walking toward the village lodge. Isla followed, her heart beating faster as she wondered what the elders could possibly want with her. The village’s elders were respected and revered, wise beyond their years, and they rarely called for anyone unless something urgent had arisen.

The village lodge was a large, circular building made of stone and wood, with a thatched roof that blended into the landscape. Inside, a fire crackled in the center, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The elders sat in a semicircle around the fire, their faces solemn and serious. When they saw Isla enter, they all turned to her, their eyes heavy with meaning.

“Isla,” Elder Marlowe, the village leader, said in his deep voice. “Thank you for coming. We have a matter of great importance to discuss.”

Isla’s pulse quickened, her mind racing. “What is it, Elder?”

“There has been a disturbance in the forest,” Elder Marlowe continued. “Something has awakened in the heart of the Whispering Pines. The wind has been restless, and the voices have become louder—more insistent.”

Isla’s stomach dropped. She had heard the whispers herself, but she had always dismissed them as mere superstition. Now, hearing the elders speak of it so seriously made her heart race with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“What do you mean by ‘awakened’?” Isla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“The trees are speaking,” Elder Marlowe said gravely. “And they are not speaking to us. They are speaking to someone—or something—else. The balance of the forest is shifting, and we fear that the whispers are a warning.”

Isla looked around at the other elders. Their faces were drawn with worry, their hands clasped tightly in their laps. She could feel the weight of their concern pressing down on her chest. The forest had always been a place of mystery, but it had never seemed dangerous—until now.

“What are we supposed to do?” Isla asked.

“We need you to go into the forest,” Elder Marlowe said, his voice soft but firm. “You are the one who has always listened to the whispers, who has sought to understand the forest. Perhaps you can uncover what is causing the disturbance.”

The room fell silent. Isla’s heart thudded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She had never imagined that she would be called upon to venture into the heart of the Whispering Pines, but she knew that this was her calling. The forest had always been a part of her, and if something was threatening it, she had to do something about it.

“I’ll go,” Isla said, her voice steady despite the fear rising within her. “But I will need help.”

Elder Marlowe nodded. “We will send Elias with you. He knows the forest better than anyone.”

Isla turned to Elias, who had been standing silently in the corner of the lodge, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes met hers, and he gave her a small nod of reassurance. Though he was known for his stoic demeanor, Isla could see the concern in his face. He had never ventured deep into the forest either—no one had—but she knew that he would not hesitate to help her.

The elders gave them instructions on where to start their search, marking a map with the location of the ancient clearing at the heart of the forest. They spoke in hushed tones, as though afraid that the very mention of the place would bring some dark force into their midst.

As Isla and Elias left the lodge and stepped into the cool night air, a sense of urgency settled over them. The village was quiet now, the last of the villagers retreating into their homes as the moon rose high in the sky. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the wind, but Isla could feel something more beneath the surface—a tremor in the earth, a pulse in the air.

“I don’t like this,” Elias muttered as they made their way toward the edge of the village. “The forest has never been so... restless before.”

“I know,” Isla said, her voice tight with worry. “But we have to find out what’s causing it. The forest is part of us, Elias. If it’s in danger, we’re all in danger.”

They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps soft on the forest floor as they approached the edge of the Whispering Pines. The trees loomed large before them, their dark trunks stretching toward the sky like the fingers of some great, unseen hand. The wind had died down, but the air still hummed with tension, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Isla took a deep breath and stepped into the shadows of the trees. Elias followed closely behind, his eyes scanning the darkness around them. The further they went, the thicker the trees became, until the moonlight barely penetrated the canopy above. The air grew colder, and the whispers began.

At first, they were faint, barely audible, like the rustling of leaves. But as they ventured deeper, the voices grew louder—soft, melodic, like a song sung by an unseen choir. Isla’s heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a strange pull, as though the voices were calling her name. They were not speaking in words, but in a language she could almost understand. It was as if the trees were sharing their memories with her—memories of times long past.

She pressed on, her steps guided by the sound of the whispers. Elias stayed close, his eyes wide with unease. They reached the heart of the forest, where the trees opened up into a clearing. In the center stood a massive tree, its bark white as snow and its roots twisted like the limbs of an ancient creature. The tree pulsed with energy, its branches swaying in a wind that wasn’t there.

Isla stepped forward, her breath catching in her throat. She could hear the whispers now, clear and distinct, and they were speaking to her—calling her closer.

“Isla,” the voice said, soft and beckoning. “Come closer. The time has come.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing the bark of the tree. And as she did, the ground beneath her feet trembled, and the whispers turned into a roar.

The forest was alive. And it was waiting for her.

You have liked this post!

banned because
Benjamin Franklin, not only an outstanding scientist, politician, and writer, but also one of America’s founding fathers. Without Franklin, America may not even exist today. I am going to be writing an opinion essay on what I personally believe is Franklin’s greatest contribution to America.

In my opinion, Franklin’s greatest contribution to America is his role as one of our founding fathers, allow me to give you some background information on Franklin before I explain my reasoning. Franklin was born on January 17th, 1706. Ever since Franklin was a boy he had always loved to spread information and thoughts, Franklin had two years of schooling at ages 8 and 9 before his father pulled him from school. At twelve he was forced to become a printer’s apprentice, this printer he was apprenticing was his older brother, James. When Franklin was 14 he would write letters to his brother’s newspaper in the pose of a 45 year old widow named Silence Dogood. Franklin was never found out to be Dogood. Masters commonly beat their apprentices and James was no different, Franklin was often beaten by his brother. When Franklin was 17 he broke his apprenticeship and ran away first to Philadelphia, then to London, and back to Philadelphia again. In Phildelphia Franklin set up his own Print shop and published a newspaper called The Pennsylvania Gazette. Franklin knew that appearance mattered a lot, so he was often seen walking through town pushing a wheelbarrow full of paper. Franklin always made sure to never oil one wheel so he squeaked through town and attracted attention.

Franklin liked to have his whole life planned out, and at 21 formed an organization called Junto. Junto was an organization where everybody helped each other with their businesses, which today would be known as networking. When Franklin was 24 he married a writer named Deborah Read. Now, while Franklin was married, he still enjoyed flirting with other women. Franklin was quite a ladies’ man and his charming, flirtatious personality is eventually what led to Franklin being able to enlist France’s help by talking and flirting with the French women.

Now, while all of Franklin’s many accomplishments were extremely impressive, his greatest contribution to America was his place as a founding father. The truth is, without Franklin, we may not have ever won the revolution. As I mentioned in the previous paragraph, Franklin was able to enlist France’s help by flirting and speaking with the French women. When he would talk with the women they would go back and tell their husbands about what a gentleman he was, which won over the favor of a lot of people as word traveled through the grapevine about Franklin. At first America’s alliance with France was secret, with France supporting them on the down-low, not wanting to start a war with England if America lost. On March 20th, 1778, Louis XVI, the king of France at the time, signed a treaty with America. France was the very first to recognize America as a sovereign nation. June 17th, 1885, France gave America the Statue of Liberty in honor of the two nations’ friendship and America's newfound freedom.

In conclusion, Franklin truly did a lot for America, with his findings about electricity and his discovery of the Gulf Stream, but I believe that out of all of the amazing things that Franklin did, his greatest contribution to America was his role as one of our founding fathers, and a vital one at that. Franklin is undeniably an extremely important person in our history, his contributions and accomplishments go far beyond science, politics, and literature. Despite what some people may think, his impact on America still affects our society everyday. As, afterall, without him America may not have even been a thing.

You have liked this post!

Banned because
\
*The time has come. The song has chosen you.*

She held the pendant tightly, the weight of its significance settling over her like a heavy cloak. The trees around her seemed to hum in response, their branches swaying gently, as if they too had been waiting for this moment. The song, which had once been a distant whisper, now felt like a presence, all-encompassing, speaking directly to her soul.

But what did it mean? What was she meant to do with the pendant? The voice had promised answers, but it had given none so far, leaving her standing in the dim clearing, heart pounding with uncertainty.

"Who are you?" Lyla whispered into the stillness, her voice barely a breath.

The air shimmered for a moment, and then the voice returned, this time clearer, more tangible.

"I am the Keeper of the Sky," it said. "I have waited for you, Lyla. The stars have sung your name for centuries, and the time has come for you to hear their call."

Lyla's heart skipped a beat. The Keeper of the Sky? She had never heard that name before. Her mind raced, but she didn’t feel afraid. She felt... drawn to it, as though this was what she had been searching for all her life.

"I don’t understand," Lyla said, her voice soft but steady. "What is this about? What do you want from me?"

The response came slowly, as if the earth itself were taking a deep breath before answering.

"You are the last of the Skyborn," the voice said, its tone reverberating like a distant echo. "The Skyborn are the chosen few who can hear the song of the stars, who can bridge the gap between this world and the realm beyond. You, Lyla, are destined to restore balance—to revive the connection between the heavens and the earth. The pendant you hold is the key, and it must be unlocked."

The words hung heavy in the air, their meaning slowly unfurling like a blossom. Lyla’s mind raced, and yet, deep down, she felt an overwhelming sense of knowing. It was as if the knowledge had been buried inside her all along, waiting to awaken. The Skyborn. She had read ancient stories of such beings in her books, but they had always been just that—stories. Fables to be read and forgotten. But now, the truth was before her.

"You must go to the Skywell," the voice continued. "It lies beyond the mountains, in the Valley of Winds. There, you will unlock the power of the pendant. But beware, Lyla, for there are forces that do not wish for the Skyborn to return. They will try to stop you."

A chill ran down her spine at the mention of danger, but there was something else that made her hesitate—a deep, unsettling thought.

"Why me?" she asked, her voice thick with disbelief. "I’m just… a girl from Fernhaven. I don’t understand any of this."

"The song chose you," the voice replied, the tone soft yet unwavering. "The stars have seen you. They have seen your heart, your spirit. You have always been destined for this, Lyla. It is in your blood. And now, the time has come."

Lyla looked at the pendant once more, its faint glow pulsing in time with her own heartbeat. It felt warm against her skin, like an old friend, like something she had known her entire life. And yet, it was a new, uncharted path that lay ahead of her. She knew it in the marrow of her bones—the forest had chosen her for something greater than herself.

"But how will I find this Skywell? How will I even know what to do once I get there?" Lyla asked, her voice trembling despite herself.

The voice seemed to soften, as though comforting her.

"You will know," it said. "Trust in the song. It will guide you."

Lyla took a deep breath, steeling herself. The weight of the pendant in her hand felt like a call to action, something she could no longer ignore. The voice was right—this was her path, and she couldn’t turn away from it now. The answers were out there, waiting for her, and she could feel them pulling her forward.

With one last glance at the tree, its silver bark glowing in the fading light, Lyla turned and walked out of the clearing. The path ahead was uncertain, but the song of the stars hummed faintly in her ears, and she knew that she wasn’t alone. The journey would be long, and the road treacherous, but it was the only one that mattered now.

---

**Part Two: The Journey Begins**

Lyla didn’t return to Fernhaven that night. She knew that she couldn’t—at least, not yet. There was too much to do, and the pull of the song was stronger than any pull to home. She didn’t know where her journey would lead, but she understood one thing: the stars had chosen her, and she could no longer ignore the call.

Before setting out, Lyla found a quiet spot near the edge of the forest, where the trees met the open plains. She spread out a blanket and sat beneath the canopy of stars, gazing up at the sky as she tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded. The sky above was clear, and the stars shone brighter than ever, twinkling as if they had secrets to share.

For the first time in her life, Lyla felt a connection with them—no longer distant and cold, but warm and alive. They were her family, her ancestors, and they had been waiting for her to find them.

As she sat in the stillness of the night, a figure approached from the shadows. Lyla didn’t need to look up to know it was Elias. His presence was familiar, comforting.

"I thought I might find you here," he said, his voice low but steady.

Lyla turned to face him. Elias had always been there for her, ever since they were children. He was her closest friend, the one person in Fernhaven who had always understood her restless spirit. And yet, she knew that this journey was hers to take alone.

“I’m leaving, Elias,” Lyla said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias didn’t flinch, though his brow furrowed with concern. "Where are you going?"

She hesitated, feeling the weight of her decision. “I have to find the Skywell. The pendant—it's the key. I don’t know all the details, but the stars have chosen me for something important.”

Elias stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to find the right words. Finally, he nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “Then I’ll help you.”

“No, Elias,” Lyla said, shaking her head. “This is something I have to do alone. The song—it’s mine to follow. I’m not sure where it will lead me, but I know I can’t take anyone else with me. Not yet.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he simply sighed, his expression softening. “I understand, Lyla. Just promise me one thing—promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“I will,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you."

As Elias turned to leave, Lyla stood and watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of the goodbyes she was forced to make. But she knew it was for a greater purpose. This was her destiny.

With the pendant clasped tightly in her hand, Lyla took one last look at the village of Fernhaven, its silhouette fading in the distance. The road ahead would not be easy, but she was ready. The stars were waiting, and she would follow their song, wherever it led.

---

**Part Three: The Valley of Winds**

The journey to the Valley of Winds was not a short one. Lyla spent days traversing through dense forests, across wide meadows, and over steep mountain ridges. She traveled alone, with only the pendant and the distant song of the stars to guide her. As the days wore on, she became more attuned to the melody, its notes echoing in her mind, offering her both comfort and urgency.

Each step felt like a step toward something greater, but also a step deeper into a world she hadn’t yet fully understood. There were moments when the weight of the task ahead threatened to overwhelm her, and she would pause, resting beneath a tree or beside a quiet stream, letting the song of the stars soothe her restless mind.

One evening, as the sun set behind a range of jagged peaks, Lyla found herself standing at the edge of a great cliff. Before her lay the Valley of Winds, a wide expanse of windswept grasslands, dotted with jagged rock formations and ancient stone ruins. The wind howled through the valley, bending the grasses in rippling waves.

The stars were out now, their light shimmering like scattered diamonds in the deepening sky. Lyla took a deep breath and stepped forward, the pendant pulsing gently in her palm.

She had come so far—and now, the Skywell was within her reach.

---

**The Song of the Forgotten Sky** (Continued)

Lyla’s heart beat in time with the rhythm of the stars, each step leading her deeper into the Valley of Winds. The air here was different—thicker, almost as if the very atmosphere held secrets of its own, swirling with the power of the ages. She felt the pull of something ancient and unexplainable, as though the land itself was waiting for her to unlock its mysteries.

The valley stretched out before her, vast and empty, its barren beauty daunting yet serene. The wind had grown stronger now, the gusts carrying with them a mournful wail, as though the valley itself wept. Lyla wrapped her cloak tighter around her, pulling the pendant close to her chest. Every now and then, she glanced down at it, its soft glow faint but constant, like the steady pulse of her own heart.

The path ahead was unclear, the landscape both foreboding and awe-inspiring. From the corner of her eye, Lyla could just make out the silhouettes of ancient stone pillars scattered across the valley floor, half-buried in earth and time. They seemed like remnants of a forgotten age—structures that may have once been part of a greater civilization, now reduced to ruins.

After several days of traveling through the valley, with only the wind and the distant stars as her companions, Lyla came upon something that stopped her in her tracks.

At the far edge of the valley, nestled between two jagged cliffs, was a hidden cave. The entrance was dark, but a faint light glimmered within, beckoning her forward. As she approached, the wind died down, and the eerie silence of the valley seemed to envelop her.

Lyla hesitated at the mouth of the cave, feeling a strange pull in her chest. The pendant had grown warm in her hand, and she could feel its vibration, a quiet hum that resonated deep within her bones.

The voice of the Keeper of the Sky whispered in her mind once again: *The Skywell is near. Trust in the song, Lyla. You will find the answers within.*

With a deep breath, Lyla stepped inside. The cave was cool and damp, the air thick with the scent of earth and stone. The light she had seen from the entrance grew brighter the further she ventured, until she found herself in a vast underground chamber, its walls adorned with glowing runes and symbols that she didn’t recognize. The air hummed with energy, and the pendant in her hand pulsed in response.

At the center of the chamber was a large stone pedestal, its surface covered in intricate carvings. Resting atop it was a bowl made of shimmering crystal, its contents glowing with a soft, celestial light. The bowl seemed to be filled with stardust, swirling and shifting like a liquid sky.

Lyla approached slowly, the song of the stars growing louder in her mind, clearer, as if the very air itself was filled with a melody. She could feel the presence of the Skyborn before her, those who had come before her, their souls whispering in the wind, in the very stones of the cave. She had come this far; she could sense that she was on the cusp of something profound.

Reaching out, she placed her hand over the bowl, her fingers trembling with anticipation. The moment she made contact, the ground beneath her feet vibrated, and a brilliant light burst from the bowl, flooding the chamber in a dazzling glow. The runes on the walls flared to life, their symbols dancing across the stone like living things.

And then, the voice spoke again.

*The Skywell is open, Lyla. The stars have chosen you. You are the bridge between the heavens and the earth. The power is yours to wield.*

Lyla’s breath caught in her throat as she felt a surge of energy flood her being, a wave of warmth that spread from the bowl through her entire body. The pendant in her hand pulsed in time with her heartbeat, its light now brighter than the stars above. The melody she had heard for so long swirled around her, and she understood it now. It was the song of the universe, the very fabric of existence woven together by time, space, and stars.

In that moment, Lyla understood her purpose. She wasn’t just a girl from Fernhaven. She was the last of the Skyborn, the keeper of the song, the one who would restore balance to the world and bring harmony between the realms.

But as the power coursed thro I REACHED THE LIMIT

You have liked this post!

banned because the limit is 2000 >:C

You have liked this post!

Banned because you keep giving me book ideas

You have liked this post!

Banned because its not me its chat gpt!

You have liked this post!

Banned because now I wanna write my book!!!

You have liked this post!

Banned because lemme read it when its done

You have liked this post!