He had been wandering aimlessly on the uneven, carnage-filled battlefield following the epic fray, where all was lost.

The epic expansion of the unknown is before me. It’s calling me, that uneven, mysterious darkness, and I feel compelled to obey. But I am still on the land of the living, not yet claimed by Death.

The High Priest is at my side, hand upon my bare shoulder. From the corner of my eye, he turns to face the crowd behind us.

“Now we shall witness,” he says, throwing his hands up to the sky, “the all powerful Death as he claims this Lost Child as his own, creating a Found in her place.”

He pushes me down, and I fall. Deep, deep, deep into the crowding darkness; my body going numb and my eyes closing. The Dark tears into my skin—ripping it.

Then Death claims me for his own, my sacrifice for a good cause. Now I am Found, forever one with the original darkness of the Earth.

She walked out of the beach house, leaving her shoes behind. As she made her way toward the sand and water, she noted the uneven earth, beneath her. The house that she exited had been the scene of many epic events, throughout her lifetime, including an elegant dinner party that she and her husband hosted, nights before their elaborately expensive wedding. All that was behind her, now. She thought, at one point, that she won, with him, but their constant fighting was as much a part of her life as breathing, and she realized that their marriage was lost.

Mary Ann Lawless was having a good day.

Up until, with an epic display a precise footwork, she lost her balance upon the uneven ground.

Mortified and with cheeks red, Marianne pushed up from her sprawl and looked around for any witnesses.

Seeing nun, she got to her feet and continued on her way; satisfied in the knowledge that no one had seen her fall.

It was still a good day.

Sarah walked across the uneven pavement. She was lost and the epic storm brewing just over the hills to the west looked bad. Then, she heard it. The sound of the engine. Panic kicked in and froze her to the spot as the sound grew louder. If she didn’t get moving, the last three days would be for nothing. She ducked behind an abandoned car just as she heard howling. Too late. The hunt was still on. She wondered how much longer she could keep running. Well, she thought, let’s find out.

I stand upon bones and blood scraps of flesh, covering some bodies unevenly and leaving others without any at all.

I stand upon a hill, that speaks to me in a language of bitterness and violence, a epic that shouldn’t be uttered to the wind.

I stand upon the lives, waiting still, for some release, clasping hope tightly.

They will remain lost, strewn among this wasteland front, still battling for glory, something they won’t find here.

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Kristine looked outward upon the stunning landscape that appeared before her. She stood on top of a towering cliff, which offered a splendid view of this goergeous place. The green field below her stretched for miles, until eventually becoming more hilly and uneven around the base of the mountains. The blazing sunlight reflected off the shamrock green grass which was swaying gently in the warm breeze. She was lost in the splendor and beauty of this place feeling as if she could write an epic about how amazing it was. After a moment, Kristine knew that she needed to explore.

They were on uneven ground. One was a fighter, so grandthere were epics written about him. The other was a mere child, lost and forgotten by society. They faced each other on the battlefield, and the for a moment, the war stilled. The fighter knew hundreds of ways to kill this enemy standing in front of him. Yet he froze, looking at this child holding his sword against an unpassable threat. There was no fight of a soldier in his eyes, and so the fighter turned his back to him and let him live and become someone with steady ground under their feet.

I stumbled along the uneven cobblestones, unable to do much more than put one foot in front of the other. Voices buzzed in the back of my head: You were supposed to be a hero. This epic quest was your destiny. The path before you couldn't be more clear. How could you mess things up so completely?

I was supposed to be a hero. But right now, I didn't feel heroic. I only felt lost.

On the uneven floor, the toys are scattered. The pieces of a book lay ripped and a vase has been broken. The child threw a tantrum and this is the result. And tonight he fought his parents with all his might. But the epic battle has been lost for some and the ice cream has, in the end, remained in the fridge.