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It was early morning the next day. Alex had just gotten dressed and headed downstairs. Waiting for Scott and Jack to come down, he had a cup of hot tea. Until they came, Alex decided to take a look outside.
The morning was sunny and humid; a stiff, hot breeze blew. The surrounding brushy plants and wildflowers were beginning to wither. He was glad August was nearly over, because the summer had been hot and dry. As he looked further out, he saw a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. Alex sighed and closed the door, leaving himself outside.
He thought he should probably see how Jeff was doing, since he was sick. Jefferson Carswell was the young man who Jack mentioned the day before. More than just a ranchhand, he was Alex’s closest friend, one of the only people he confided in. At the present time, Carswell was living with the Madisons at the Stonewater, but in the somewhat shabby added room on the side of the house.
Alex knocked on the door of Jefferson’s room. After a few moments’ wait, he answered:
“Come in.”
Stepping inside, Alex said, “G’morning.”
“G’morning,” Jeff replied. “I was just straightening this place up a little bit.” He paused and looked about the cluttered room. “Goodness knows it’s been a long time since that happened. I like it better messy, though, so I’ll have to undo all this cleaning.” He had muttered and slurred his words together as he said this. That was his usual way of speaking.
“I take it you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah, I’m all right.”
“That’s good. It’s not been the best having Jim Astor take your place. He’s— not the most agreeable guy.”
“I’m real sorry ‘bout that, Alex. I hate that I couldn’t work. But about Jim, I know what you mean. I’ve had a run-in or two with him. He seems— I don’t know.” Jeff stopped leaning against the wall and stood up straight, which showed his full height: 6 feet and 4 inches. “I don’t trust him. There’s just this greedy look about him. I think I knew a guy like him before.”
“Really? What did he do, exactly?”
Carswell’s eyes drooped. “He used to be a friend of mine. I guess the whole thing don’t matter, though.”
Alex furrowed his brow.
“It don’t matter, Alex. You wouldn’t want to hear.”
Crossing his arms, he replied, “I think I would. That is if you’d be willing to tell.”
Jeff, sighing, reluctantly said, “Well, it happened before I met y’all and came to the Stonewater. I was already living in Wyoming. I was homesteading and he had a claim near mine.”
“Who’s ‘he’? The guy you mentioned before?”
“Yeah. Him. We were both just starting off with making our way here in the West. He had a temper, like your Astor, but we depended on each other anyway.”
Alex slowly smiled.
“He was a good friend of mine, or at least I thought so. I didn’t notice his jealousy at first. Maybe I did, actually, but I wanted to ignore it. Stupid for me. Long story short, he turned on me. Robbed me of everything I owned, destroyed my property and left me penniless till y’all came along. Alex, I’m afraid that’s what Jim Astor is like. He might seem all right and trustworthy at first, but he’s only a greedy backstabbing monster.”
Alex muttered, “I don’t trust him either, Jeff, but I’ve got myself into a predicament.”
Jeff looked confused and asked what he meant.
Alex bit his lip and fought a shiver. “Jeff, the very last thing I want is for you to get wrapped up in this.”
“Get wrapped up in what?”
“It’s nothing. Really. I can handle it on my own.”
Hey ya'll, Anna Cartwright here! Here is part one of the prologue of my story, I hope you enjoy it!
“What are you two doing?” asked Nalene, who lay in bed as she saw her young children coming in, “You know the doctor doesn’t want you in here.”
“Yes, I know Mama, but…but Enna and I haven’t seen you all week. We’ve missed you so much, and, when the doctor left, we…we just had to come see you. Why hasn’t he let us see you Mama?” said the little boy.
His mother gave a small sigh and answered, “Because I have been very sick Ariock, along with many others in the palace. He is just doing what is best for you. This sickness is very contagious, he doesn’t want either of you to get it, and neither do I. I think you should go back dear, both of you. I only want what is best for you.”
The two children did not leave; they were too young to understand how serious this sickness was. Instead of obeying their mother, Ariock grabbed Enna’s hand and moved closer to the bed. “But…but…I can’t leave, I’ve only just come. Don’t send us away Mama, Enna and I won’t be much trouble, will we?” He looked at his little sister as he said this.
Enna raised her eyebrows, concerned and confused. She didn’t know why her mother, after not seeing them for so long, would want to send them away.
“Well, I suppose you can stay, but do not get any closer to me. Where is your father?”
“He is in court right now. But Mama, you won’t be sick for too much longer, will you?” he asked, “Everything will be back to normal soon, right? Just like it was before, right?”
“No my dear, I won’t be sick for much longer, but no, everything will not be back to the way it was.”
The poor boy didn’t know what to say. He stammered, “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“I am going to go to a wonderful place Ariock, more wonderful than you, or I, or anyone else could ever imagine. I will not have this sickness anymore, and I will never be unhappy, ever again. Do you know why?”
“Why Mama?”
“Because my Father will be there, and He will greet me with open arms. I will never ever be without Him. My Father is your Father, Ariock. Yours, mine, Enna’s, and everyone else who lives and breathes on this earth. He wants everyone to come to Him, and now He is calling me to live with him forever and ever.”
“That is wonderful Mama, can I come with you?”
His mother gave a weak laugh, “No, I’m afraid you can’t come with me. Not yet. It isn’t your time to come yet. You will have to wait until He has called you.”
Tears started falling from the siblings’ eyes and down their cheeks. He and Enna came closer to their mother. “I’ve only just now seen you again, you can’t leave me now, not yet!”
“It is not up to me to decide when I go, me dear. It is up to God. I cannot stop Him.”
Enna and Ariock hugged their mother. Their minds were so full of questions, and did not have enough answers. Their mother also hugged them tightly, and she kissed their cheeks. She said to her children, “I love you very much Ariock, I love you very much Enna.” She laid back in the bed and was no longer ill.
Before I post this, I'd like to say this is our 30th entry, yay! YAY! WE DID IT! *just had a Mr. Smith Goes to Washington moment* And I think I'd like to explain why I don't have much description so far. Stonewater Ranch is sort of therapy for me. I am recovering from all the dreadful books I had to read and stories I wrote that had NO dialogue. Dialogue is my favorite... and best thing... to write, so I'm doing it to help me get better from DDD (Dialogue deprivation disease).
Scott needed to know what was going on. He ran over to the door, swung it open, and darted outside. Here he saw Alex walking in the direction of Silver Waters, Jim Astor’s ranch. Alex didn’t seem very confident, because he was walking so slowly and hestitantly.
“Hey, Alex, didn’t you say you were going into town?”
He turned around and looked at his brother. He said casually, “Yes, but first I needed to work something out with Jim. Is there something wrong?”
“No, just wondered why you seemed sort of upset.”
“If you really want to know, there was just a bit of an argument. You know how Jim’s got a temper.”
“Yeah, I do. See you.”
Scott went back to the house, and Alex went to Silver Waters Ranch. Scott began thinking about how strange it was that their ranch was called Stonewater and Jim Astor’s was called Silver Waters. They both had an “S” and a “W” in the name. The ranches were named on account of the long, winding creek that ran throughout the area. It was quite an odd coincidence, though.
It had been late afternoon when Alex left. It was growing dark now, and he still hadn’t returned. At first, the brothers had planned to wait on him to come back until they ate supper, but as the evening wore on and Alex still wasn’t there, they forgot about that plan. The evening seemed to roll by very slowly. In time, Scott decided to go upstairs, because he didn’t think it very likely for him to come back any time soon. Jack, however remained downstairs.
Finally, at around 10:00 in the evening, Alex stepped through the front door. Jack had almost dozed off leaning against the table. The sound of the door closing woke him up. He looked at Alex and the first thing he noticed about him was that he had a bruise on his cheek.
“How’d you get that, Alex?”
“Got hit on the corner of a door. Jack, would you mind stepping outside? I need to talk with you for a bit.”
They did as he asked, stepping out into the hot, starry night. Alex crossed his arms and looked at Jack in the eye.
“Now, Jack, you wrote a letter earlier today.”
“I did.”
Alex paused, as if he was trying to put his thoughts together. He gazed up into the sky. Then he looked back down at Jack, matching his own blue eyes to Jack’s soft brown eyes. “Who was it to?”
“Why does it matter?” Jack shrugged his shoulders.
“Jack, who was the letter for?” Alex’s voice suddenly shifted to a severe tone.
Jack looked ashamed of himself. “The— the letter was for—”
“Was it for Darcie Astor?”
Darcie was Jim Astor’s much younger sister, who was only seventeen, two years younger than Jack. She lived in Kentucky with her parents, but had come out west to stay with her brother Jim for a few weeks.
When Alex mentioned the name, Jack acted more embarrassed. He hung his head and sighed.
“Don’t feel bad about it, please. I just need to know.”
“Yes,” Jack said nervously, “it was for Darcie.”
“And have you already given it to her?”
No one said anything for a few minutes. Jack kicked a rock around with his boot.
“Jack, have you already given the letter to her?”
Hesitating, he answered, “Yes, I have.”
Alex took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment. “Had you sent her any letter or note or anything before today?”
Jack was so self-conscious that he felt sick. “What, Alex, did you hear something around town?”
“I did. Now Jack, had you sent her anything before the letter you gave today?”
Jack ran his hand through his shaggy brown hair in an agitated way. “Yes,” he mumbled. “What was it you heard about it?”
There was a silence. Alex’s face was expressionless. “In the note, did you say anything about marriage?”
“What? Marriage? Me?” He looked shocked and insulted. “Is that— that what you heard?”
“Yes, it is. I didn’t think that sounded right. Is it?”
“No. I swear I never said anything like that!”
“I figured as much,” Alex muttered. “Thank you, Jack.” He stared off into the distance for a while. Then he focused back on his brother. “Look, I’m sorry I had to confront you like this. I really am.”
Jack did a half-smile, because he didn’t know what to say now.
“Well, I guess we should be heading inside. Come on.”
The two brothers stepped inside the house and closed the door.
Just a reminder...when posting, unless you are saving it as a draft, please to not forget to click "yes" on the "send to mailing list" thing. This way, we will all be aware when someone is posting. Also, if you have not sent your e-mail address to LadyAuthoresses, please do so! (Unless your parents do not want you giving out your e-mail address, in which case we understand. )
Also, if anyone would like a signature, let me know and I can make one for you.
Hello, it's Finscoth again. And this *deep breath* is my new story. Just warning y'all, it's a Western, so it's really different from what everyone else here is writing. I don't know how y'all are going to like it. *is anxious*
Scott Madison, who had just come over to the desk where Jack sat writing, and who was leaning against the wall, looked down at Jack’s little paper he was writing on. “Whatcha writing?” Scott’s brown eyes twinkled and glinted.
Jack jerked his head up and quickly turned the paper over so his brother couldn’t see it. “Nothing.”
Scott leaned closer. He look the paper in his hand. As he began to read it, he smirked. His smile always had a tendency to the right side of his face.
Jack jumped up from the chair. He tried to snatch the paper back, but his older brother kept it away.
Still reading it, Scott lauged quietly to himself. “Well, what have we got here?” he said, “A love letter, Jack?”
A tight knot formed in his stomach and he bit his lip.
“Don’t be embarrassed about it. But who’s the gal?”
“That’s none of your business. You didn’t need to see the letter in the first place.”
Jack tried again to get the letter from Scott.
“Seriously, who is she? Faith McKinley, Emily Jacobs, Sally Carter?”
“Don’t matter!”
“Rachael Kingston?”
“What’s it to you if it is?”
“Darcie Astor?”
“Quit it, will you?” Jacked kicked Scott hard in the gut and he fell to the floor with the wind knocked out of him.
Just at that moment, Alex came through the door, in time to see why Scott was on the ground. Alex looked hot and sweaty, and like he’d had a bad time with the roundup. He took off his black hat, and sending a hand into the air, he shouted, “Great, I come in from a long day with Jim Astor, and now you two?” He walked over and helped his younger brother to his feet. “You all right?”
Scott choked and said, “Yeah.”
Alex crossed his arms and pointed his blue-eyed glare at Jack. “What was that for?”
Jack slowly sunk into his chair, looking guilty. “I’m sorry, Scott, I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Didn’t mean to do no one no harm. Scott stole a private letter from me and then started teasing.”
With a cough, he replied, “I did. Sorry ‘bout that. Now, what was that you said about Jim Astor?”
Alex looked down at the floor and sighed. “Nothing. Just a little trouble. It doesn’t matter.” There was a long pause. The silence lasted for about thirty seconds. No one really knew what to say, and it felt awkward not to say anything. They only stood glancing around at each other and the dirty walls and floors of the house.
Jack eventually decided to break the silence. “I guess I could imagine with Jeff come down with fever and not being able to help, things might be tough.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Alex, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Jeff Carswell’s a good worker and a good friend. It’s a shame to have him sick. But he’ll be better soon, I can guarantee.”
“I should hope so. You know we would have been happy to help with the roundup,” said Scott, “if we hadn’t needed to go into town.”
Alex turned pale and shuddered.
Scott lowered his eyebrows and said, “What, you’re not sick too, are you?”
“Me? No. It’s just, er, something that happened out there. But that’s irrelevant. I’m not sick. What was it y’all said about a letter? A letter you wrote, Jack?”
Slightly confused, Jack nodded his head.
Alex put his hat back on and said there was someone in town he needed to see. Before he went out through the back door, he ran his hand over the gun on his belt. He slipped out and headed away.
This worried Jack and Scott. Why would Alex have gone out the back door, and why did he touch his gun like that? Both the brothers had the same thoughts going through their minds. Scott and Jack stared nervously at each other. Jack bit his lip and drew a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. Scott twisted up his mouth and let out an anxious sigh.
Hello everyone! I am a 14 year old Christian girl striving to know God more and learn more about Him. My user name is narnialover95, and Laura invited me to join! My pen name on this will be Anna Cartwright. (yes, I know, the name isn't nearly as pretty as some others on this wonderful group, but I like it.) I don't have a particular genre I like to write, it is very random. I know I'll enjoy my time here!
I am Laura C. Wylde, or just Laura. I am quite thankful that I got to join this group, it looks loverly. I cannot wait to fellowship with other writers.
I am sixteen years old; living for God is my passion and writing for God is my second passion. I love to read as well; I find fantasy, historical fiction, and biographies fascinating. I also write some fantasy, but mainly I write in a new genre called Psychoquantum. The definition for it is:
A name given to writing dealing in the crossing of parallel realities, the invasion of supernatural influences, the motives behind sin-nature occurrences and the psychological existence of the individual.
Confused yet? That's okay. Basically my books are a wild mix of Spiritual Warfare (battling against Angels and Demons), fantasy, and Science Fiction. *sighs* Hard to explain.
I also write songs. Sometimes...most of the time they don't work out. But I try!
By the way, Lady Felyn was kind enough to make me the Vice President. Right now we are working on fixing up this place to make it even better than before! Including a new template, and some other things.
I must away! Fare thee well, my friends.
May God always guide your pen,
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
I am her. I'm Darcy Jo Jarndice, and I'm back. The only difference is I've changed my pen name to Finscoth Eire Martin. I did that for two reasons. First is I didn't like the look of the two J's next to each other in Darcy Jo Jarndice. It was weird to say. Second is Darcy Jo was strictly for one style of writing. I've changed my style quite a bit, so it needed a new pen name? Y'all follow? And it's better to pronounce. (FIN-scoth AIR-ah). Greetings from Finscoth Eire Martin. (Just so y'all know, my username on HSB is gelpenprincess)
Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.
Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.
Stand firm, therefore, having girded your loins with Truth, and having put on the breastplate of Righteousness,
and having shod your feet with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace;
in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.
Hey readers, Lady Caitlin here. I'm the newest member of the Lady Authoresses Club. I'm 13 years old and live in the heartbeat of the South. I love reading, writing, and music. I write mostly novels and songs. I mostly write historical fiction with a little romance thrown in. You can check out my blog at:
Hello members of Lady Authoresses. I have decided that this place needs fixing up. What does that mean? Well, first of all we need to all start posting again(including me). Second, we need to make this an over all more fun place to be. I have neglected this club, and I do not blame you if you quit. However, I really would like to get this place running again, but I need your help. The things I need help for are:
1. Getting more members! The membership of Lady Authoresses is so small, and though that it not bad, it is more fun the more members you have. So if you happen to have any friends that you want to join, Invite Them by asking them to send a p.m. Just let me read their blog before you give them the password.
2. Rules. Are the rules specific enough, or do we need more?
3. I can't chat on the tea room, however for the rest of the members I shall keep the tea room up.
4. Vice President. This just means I need someone to help me with answering p.m.'s, allowing new members, and helping with decisions on making Lady Authoresses a better place for us all.
I think that is it for now. So please, help me make this place an enjoyable club for all the members.
I am not sure where everyone has been lately but I have noticed that there has been little to no activity on this blog. (And yes, I am to blame too! *sheepish grin*)
So I thought I would finally get around to writing a post! I thought I would ask if maybe, every time somebody posts, all of us try our hardest to leave a comment! Myself included! I just think it would liven things up around here and maybe incourage some of us (Me, me!!!) to post more often!
Allright, now I am off to work on my novel...I was going through major writing block but it's gone now and I'm back!! =)
Hey y'all, here's more of the story. No one read the last bit, though, so you might have to go back and read it if you didn't.
***************
The first link in the bleak chain, the day that led to despair, is a bright afternoon in the year 1810, as flawless as day can be, light clouds lazily floating by: perfect contrast against the impossible blue. Rolling in green, spotted with wildflowers are the famous hills of Oakley, and through them meanders a man of no more than 25 years, appearing to have nothing to do, not a care in the world. He gazes up at the sun. Suddenly, he turns to the large house in the distance. He takes walking at a brisk pace towards it, as if he is late for something quite urgent.
With a distressed countenance, he nudges his way past the people who wander through the dusty streets of town. It takes not very long for the man to arrive at his destination: the Waverleys’ home. He knocks on the door, straightening his collar, brushing the dirt off his worn coat, running his hands continually across his hair, trying to appear decent before the old gentleman, for this is an important matter. He knows not why Mr. Waverley desires to speak with him, for truly, he is but a worthless young man, a poor carpenter, and has no business with such high people as the Waverleys.
An old black woman opens the door and curtsies to Mr. Hawthorne. “Sir?”
“Er… Hawthorne… Mr. Waverley was expecting me…”
“Ah, yes. This way, sir.”
The door slams behind them. The woman leads Hawthorne down the hall to a closed door. They hear Mr. Waverley inside, murmuring something to himself. “Mr. Waverley, there’s a Mr. Hawthorne here to see…”
“Let him in.” The old man’s voice is cold, hard. Face red and blotchy, Tom’s hands shake as he cautiously pushes open the creaky door.
“Hawthorne, my man. I should like to have a word with you. Sit down.”
Blushing, he eyes a chair behind him, and takes a seat uncomfortably as if he was sitting on an anthill. “Yes, Mr. Waverley?”
“I shall have no dilly-dallying now, so I will get straight to the point. My granddaughter Judith has shown quite some liking towards you, though you may not have noticed it. She admires you so that she wishes to marry you. Are you following me, man?”
“Um...”
“Good, then. I think I know of your thoughts right now. You might not want to marry her; there are a great many handsome ladies in Oakley--- and perhaps one in particular you care for, eh? But are you quite aware of the sum you shall accumulate as my grandson-in-law? When my… time… comes…” He pauses and clears his throat. “There shall be the entire plantation left to my direct descendant. That would be Richard. We all know Richard himself… does not have much time left.” He pauses for a moment and draws a deep, slow breath. “Poor Richard… poor, sick boy. As Judith’s husband, you shall be the one to inherit the fortune, the land, the house, and I believe you and Judith will be incredibly happy with Green Collis. That is, unless I pass before Richard, or he gets married. Hawthorne, will you marry my granddaughter?”
“I am very gracious of your kindness, but, Mr. Waverley, I don’t think...”
“Nonsense, my boy. You shall never be made such an offer in your life.”
“I know, sir, but…”
“And if you do not accept, you are throwing away hopes of financial security and a comfortable home.”
“Sir, I cannot…”
“Well, then, my boy, you shall have to come to a decision. I shall grant you until next week to make your choice. Hear me?”
Chapter Two of Nya's Story, which is the only title I can come up with right now! :-)
Chapter 2
Nya woke up the next morning, wet and stiff. She must have been exshausted the day before, to have fallen asleep twice before it was even dark. But now, although stiff, Nya felt refreshed and ready to start the day.
Getting to her knees, Nya picked up her book and moaned. It was wet from the night rain and no doubt, ruined. Nya went to the house and after starting a fire, set the book in front of the fireplace and left it there. She was too stubborn to just throw the book away. Maybe it could still be saved she thought hopefully. Going to her small room at the back of the cottage, Nya shed her wet clothes, dryed herself off and put on warm clothes. She chose a blue split skirt, a blouse of light brown with buttons running up it and a blue headband which she wore often. Her boots were wet but she would have to continue wearing them, seeing as they were her only pair. Standing in front of her mirrow, Nya brushed out her hair as best she could and put the head band in. She studied her reflection in the glass for a minute before deciding it was satisfactory.
As she left her room, Nya grabbed her cloak lying on the bed and went to the kitchen. Once there she cut a slice of bread off a loaf she had brought from town the day before. Because she didn't have any butter or jam, she spread honey on the bread. Not her favorite but a meal, none the less. Hurreing out the door, Nya ran to the stable, heading for her horse. She was eager to start the day, first by visiting Shawn's wife, Briggeta.
"Here girl! Darcy!" Nya called as she climbed over the fence of the corral. Darcy came trotting up to her and nudged her arm. "Oh!" Nya laughed. "Ok, here, you can have some." Nya pulled her bread apart and gave the smaller piece to Darcy who snatched it up hungerly. 'You act like your starving!" Nya said. Darcy nickered, bobbing her head up up and down. "Lets go girl." Nya said as she walked towards the stable. Darcy followed after her, until they were both inside the stable. Nya went through the daily routine, first she groomed her horse, then she put the tack on. The last thing she always did whenever taking Darcy out for a ride, she patted Darcy on the neck, twice, softly, and saying, " Good girl."
Within half an hour of riding, Nya had reached Shawn's farm. Michial saw her come into view of the house and came running up to her. "Hello Nya, let me take Darcy!" Nya handed the riens to him as soon as she dimounted. "Thank you Michial." "Might I ride her Nya?" Nya waved her hand at the boy. "Yes, of coarse. Is your mother inside?" "Aye, she is." Micial replyed as he pulled his thin frame up into the saddle. Nya was always amazed at how he did it, Darcy stood twice as tall as him.
Not bothering to knock, Nya walked into the smal house and called, "Briggeta, where are you?" Brigetta came out of he kitchen and said," Ah! Nya! I didn't know you were coming! I would have been more presentable!' Nya laughed," You look fine!" She embraced the older woman. Briggeta was old enough to be Nya's mother but she had always been more of a best friend. Shawn and Briggeta had three boys, Michial was the youngest and they had twins, Nya's age, but one had died when he was only five. Jasper, the other twin, was a good friend of Nya's.
"Well, come in. Sit down! Have you had breakfast yet?" Nya shook her head." I had a slice of bread. But I can't stay. I told Meira I would help her today.I just wanted to talk about having supper sometime." Briggeta pulled Nya into her kitchen and begane to lay fruit and bread on a rag. She spoke as she tied the ends of the rag together, making a little package. "Can you come tomorrow? I would love to have you! I feel like I haven't seen you in years! I know it's only been a week, but still." Nya thought for a second before saying, 'I don't have anything I need to do tomorrow so I'll be there." Briggeta handed the bundle of food to Nya. " Here, take this to Meira's. You need something to eat while your there. You know how Meira forgets to feed her guests." Nya laughed as she left the house. Briggeta stood in the doorway, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow then." "What time?" Nya asked. "Whenever your hungry!" Briggeta said, smiling.
Nya waved to Briggeta as she turned and went back into the house.
Micial was waiting with Darcy when Nya turned around. "Did you have a good ride." Michial nodded. "Where are you going now?" He asked. "I'm going to Meira's to do some gardening." Michail looked interested. "Can I come? I'll help you garden. Do you think Meira Edana would mind?" "No, I don't think she would but you need to ask your mother first." Michial ran off to the house and Nya mounted Darcy and waited. Michial came running back. "She said I could go!" "All right, hop on." Nya said. She held out a hand and Michial took it, using her hand to swing himself up into the saddle. Once he was settled, Nya handed him the bundle of food. "Hold this for me please." "What is it?" "Food." Michial nodded in understanding. Nya clucked to Darcy and they started off at a sharp trot, and then broke into a slow gallop. Michial wrapped his thin arms around Nya's waist. She could feel him lean his head against her back and she knew he was enjoying the ride. He always loved to ride Darcy, whether he was in charge or not didn't matter.
"Michial, could you tie Darcy up to that tree?" Michial nodded and lead Darcy away. Nya went around Meira's house to the back, where the garden was. Nya wasn't looking forward to gardening, the sun was already shinning down. It was hot and there was no shade where the garden was. Nya could see Meira kneeling by her favorite roses. Placing the bundle of food by the corner of the house, Nya joined Meira by the rose bush. "Morning Meira." Meira looked up, shading her eyes with her hand. "Oh, mornin'." "I brought Michial with me. Thought we could use the help." "Good, good. I could always use extra help! Why don't you go tend to the tomatoe plants. There's some weeds that need pulling and then you can water the plants. And theres one plant that needs a new pole. It's young and got knocked down in the wind last night." Nya went to the tomatoe bushes and began to wror. She didn't notice when Michial came around the house but she listened to the conversation he had with Meira. "Greetings Meira Edana." "Hello Michial." "What would you like me to do?""Hmmm..." Meira looked around her large garden before pointing to a patch of flowers. "Do me a favor and pull the weeds by those flowers. There are a lot so it might take you awhile."
Soon, the three of them were obsorbed in their work, no conversations were being held, just silence.
The young woman quietly ran through the dark streets, her back to the pale moon. Fear held her heart in its icey palm, she felt chills running up and down her spine. As she ran she could sense a presence following her. She had felt it for three days now, but until now, the presence had seemed threatening. She had thought it just a fellow traveller, a days length behind her but now she wasn't so sure.
Chapter 1
Striding into the tavern, Nya Edana gazed around the room until she saw the one she wanted to talk to. She went to his table and sat down. "Hello Shawn. Michiel." She said, addressing the man and his son. "Ah! Nya! Come, sit down!" Nya raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh yes, right. You already did!" Shawn chuckled at his own joke but Nya didn't find it that amusing. Shawn was always making his little jokes but half the towns people didn't find them funny.
"Shawn, can I talk to you?" Shawn leaned against the table, the immense amount of his body weight causing his chair to creak alarmingly. "But you already are." Nya frowned slightly." All right, all right! Michial. Why don't you go over to Miss Larvenres and wait for me their. I'll be there shortly." "But father-" The boy started to complain but stopped whne he saw the look on his fathers face. Discouraged, he gave up and left, saying, "Goodby Nya." as he did.
Shawn watched his son leave before turning to Nya and saying, "Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?"
"What do you know about this Master Keegan fellow?"
"You mean the one who come into town this morning?"
"It's 'came in' Shawn, and yes, he's the one." Shanw ignored her attempt to correct his grammer and replied," Well, I know he's no Master. Although I don't know why he calls himself that! But he certanly doesn't work for the King." Nya lowered her voice before saying, " Do you think he workd for the Dark Ones?"
"Well, I can't say for sure but I wouldn't doubt it." "Do you know how long he is staying in town?" Shawn shook his head. "No idea." Nya nodded slowly. "Is that all Nya?" Shanw asked. "Yes, thank you."
"Anytime Nya. You know you can always come to me for anything." Shanw heaved himself out of his chair and said," I almost forgot to mention, the wife wants you over for supper soon. She's missed you." Nya smiled. "I've only been gone a week." "You know what it's like for her, living way out their and with me in town so much. That and nobody ever calls in on us anymore. She gets awful lonesome. She keeps telling me we need to move to town but I can't just up and leave that nice plot of land! I need that place for the crops, otherwise I wouldn't-" Nya held up a hand and laughed quietly, "I know Shanw. You've told me a hundred times!"
"Ahh, but you forget, I love to talk!" "You talk too much!" Nya said as she turned to go, amused by her friend.
Nya pushed the swinging doors open and stepped out into the warm sun. It was barley even noon but the sun already shined down, hot and bright. People bustled about, going every which way. Venders gaurded their goods carefully. They were fully aware of the danger of lurking robbers.
"Nya Edana!" Nya could hear her name being called by Meira Vandarn. The older woman hurried up to Nya and said, " How fortunate to find you....here." She eyed the tavern suspicionaly. "Greeting Meira. Is there something you needed?" "Aye, there is! I could use your help tomorrow, I have some gardening that needs doing and its such a big job, I'm afraid I won't be able to get it all done in one setting. And I would prefer to get it done all at once otherwise I will never be able to find the will to get back to it." Nya groaned inwardly. She dispised gardening, found it a waste of time. Bent over in the hot sun, pulling weeds out when one could be curled up in the shade reading a book. But she would do anything for Meira, who was like the mother she couldn't remember having.
"I'll be there bright and early." Meira nodded and walked off, not bothering to say goodbye. As long as Nya had known the old woman, she had never once said goodbye.
Across the street, outside the town inn, stood a dirty boy, holding the reins to a large Gypsy horse. Nya crossed the street and took the reins from the lad. "Thank you." She said. "And heres your coin." The boy took the coin and ran off, probaby going to buy a much wanted meal. Nya gracefully lept up onto her horses back. She settled herself into her saddle, thankful she didn't have to bother with side saddles. Her split skirt was something was something that caused those who didn't know her to frown upon her but the skirt enabled her to live her life freely.
Nya kicked her horse into a canter and she took off at abreak-neck speed. Nya liked to ride fast. She loved how the color mixed into one as they flew past her. When she rode fast she felt s if she was flying. She thought it exhilarating and danger. Both of which Nya felt she couldn't live without.
Because Nya lived on the outskirts of town, much like Shawn, the ride was a bit long but well worth it.
Nya felt a sudden happieness warm her when she rounded the bend and saw her hoe. It was no more than a small cottage, with a black-smiths shop attached to it but it was her cottage. The black-smiths shop belonged to her father, before her died. There was also a stable, small, but effective.
Nya slid off her horses back, her boots causing small clouds of dust. "Good girl." Nya said, patting her horse. "Yes, you are a good girl Darcy!" Darcy nudged Nya's shoulder and nickered softly. "Come on, lets get you fed! It's been a long morning!" Nya led Darcy the stable and began to undo her saddle. She expertely un-hooked the strap and slung the saddle over a stall door. Next was the saddle blanket and finally, the bridle. Nya slapped Darcy's rump and watched the horse run out the large stable door towards the food and water in the corral Nya had built for her. Nya put the saddle and bridle away before leaving the stable and going to her house.Her door creaked as she pushed it open. It was cool inside, and Nya felt glad to get out of the sun. Pulling a chair away from her table, Nya sat down in the kitchen and closed her eyes. She was tired, but their was so much work to do. She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes again, the sun had lowered a considerable amount and it was not as bright outside. The cottage was darker than it had been when she first came in.
Nya rubbed her eyes as she stood up. She grabbed an apple out of the bowl on her table, a book of poetry and headed outside, where she sat down on a bench underneath her favorite tree. The old oak had stood by the cottage since Nya's father's father was a child. Nya had sat under the old tree and read ever since she was a child. Her father used to sit with her, carving away at a block of wood as we he usually did in his spare time. Nya had a collection of his carved figurines in her room. They were sitting on her dresser in a disorginized way. The majority of the carvings were animals, but there were a few carriages and corrals for the horses. Nya had always enjoyed watching her father carve.
As Nya sat with her book in her lap, she ate away at her apple and thought bcak to the many times she had spent outside with her father. A cool breeze began to blow, pushing Nya's black hair away from her face. She layed back in the grass and watched the tree above her. The leaves rustled as the wind flirted with them.
Adira here. I'm posting the first chapter of The Redemption of Zelknown. Scroll down a few entries to read the prologue if you haven't already.
The Redemption of Zelknown
Chapter One
Ten Years Later
Seventeen-year old Prince Jonathorn walked through the courtyard in a daze. Of all the things he'd ever imagined happening, this wasn't one of them. He walked into the main part of the castle. Looking around he was glad that the few people in sight seemed very busy and didn't notice they're prince enter the room. Usually he would have been furious that no one had noticed him, but this wasn't a normal day. The entire kingdom of Zelknown would mourn today. For the king and queen, Jonathorn's parents, were dead.
Jonathorn looked grim as he mounted the stairs. He had to see for himself. Had both his parents just suddenly and mysteriously died? Perhaps there had been a misunderstanding in the message sent to him, though he doubted it.
He stopped in front of his parents bed chamber. He knocked out of habit. Nothing. He opened the door. Sure enough laying on the bed unmoving were King Zarakiam and Queen Mikobea. Jonathorn bit his lip. He knew that his parents were dead. It felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. Not only had his parents died, but now he would have to be king. He always knew that he would take over the kingdom one day, but he had never dreamed that it would happen so soon. He knew that he wasn't ready.
He turned towards a servant girl who had just entered the room. She looked rather surprised to see Jonathorn there. She curtsied. “Hello, your majesty.”
He didn't return the greeting. “What happened? Why did my parents die? Dorkol didn't give me any details when he came to my corridors and told me of this.”
“We are not sure yet, your majesty... We believe it may have been some kind of poisoning. Though we cannot be certain yet, your majesty....” The girl looked uncomfortable and flustered as she answered him.
“Proceed with your duties,” Jonathorn said leaving the room. He could not believe what had just happened. Last night everything had been fine. The king and queen had been as lively as ever. What could have happened? Could it have been poisoning? Or had it been something else? These questions burned inside of him, demanding to be answered. But there were no answers. Suddenly he broke into a run. He wished he could leave all the troubles that had just fallen onto his shoulders to someone else. There was no one to leave these troubles to though. As he rounded a corner, he ran strait into his sister, Jineela. Both of them fell back onto th floor.
“Well that's a kingly way to act!” Jineela said bitterly with a hint of anger.
“Sorry,” Jonathorn mumbled. He helped Jineela up. He then studied her face. She looked like she was trying very hard to keep from crying.
Jineela didn't bother thanking him, but walked past him to their parents room. Jonathorn just stood there watching his younger sister walk down the hall. He wasn't sure what to do, but something had to be done soon. And whatever it was, he would have to do it. He was to be crowned king soon.
*~*~*~*~*
The death of the king and queen had taken place almost a week ago. Jonathorn had been crowned king. Kylaren Jakone sat at a small table thinking about this. Would King Jonathorn be any better than his father? Would he be worse? Or perhaps no better and no worse? Kyla looked across the table to see Leeyarii sitting quietly, also deep in thought.
“I hope Mikian gets home soon,” Kyla said after a little while.
“Me too,” Leeyarii agreed. “I hate this time of day.”
Kyla looked into the kitchen. Dinner was ready. Mikian could be home in the next few minutes, or he could be home in the next few hours. It depended on how business was.
Just then, the door opened and Mikian walked in.
“Mikian!” Leeyarii exclaimed. She hugged her eighteen year-old brother.
“Hullo. You look tired. Dinner is ready.” Kyla said all of this quickly, then went to the kitchen to start serving dinner.
Mikian walked to the table and held out a chair for his sister. Leeyarii took the seat Mikian offered her. “Thank you.”
Kyla walked back into the room and set down bowls of soup in everyone's spots at the table. Mikian offered a chair to her and she graciously took it. “Thank you, Mikian.”
Mikian then took a seat himself and said a quick prayer. Then they all started eating. All was quiet at first.
“I finally found a good underground church,” Mikian said.
“You did?” Leeyarii said excitedly.
“That's wonderful!” Kyla said.
“Yes I did, the pastors name is Darkeel Somred. He is a very decent man. We shall be going this Sunday.”
“I had really missed church. I'm so glad that you finally found one after all these years,” Leeyarii said.
“Me too,” Mikian agreed. “But we must be careful. It was the Variters finding out about our church that got us orphaned.”
Leeyarii sighed. “I know, Mikian. It's been ten years since we've been in a church. I miss all the fellowship there.”
“I know, I miss it too. I'm just saying that we need to be careful.”
“How big is this church?” Kyla asked.
“About twice the size of our old one. Another reason that we must be careful. A big congregation is easier to find than a small one.” Mikian answered taking a bite of the soup.
“I can't wait for Sunday!” Leeyarii said.
“I cannot wait either. It shall be nice being in fellowship with other believers in Christ.” Kyla said with a smile.
Mikian smiled and looked across the table at Kyla and Leeyarii. Leeyarii looked like a younger female version of himself. Her eyes were a light brown that seemed to radiate from within. Her hair was light brown and curled a little. Mikian's hair did not curl, but he still looked very much like his sister.
Kyla may not have been Mikian's blood sister, but she seemed like a sister nonetheless. He had been calling her his sister for the past ten years. Her pale face was thin, and there was a defiant ans stubborn set to her jaw. Long, dark brown hair slipped past her shoulders as she bent down to take a bite of soup. She lifted her forest green eyes and looked at Mikian when she realized that he was looking at her. Mikian smiled and Kyla smiled back.
For the rest of the meal they talked of things such as what they would wear to church on Sunday. They were very excited about Sunday. And for once they were happy and acted like the sixteen and eighteen year-olds that they were. They each went to bed with smiles on their faces. And a bright look on tomorrow.
Here is another short story I wrote. My mother and were making small quilts for kids with cancer and I came up with this story shortly after finishing one of the quilts.
The little girl lay in her hospitle bed, everything around her bare and gloomy. The walls and surrounding furniture down to the bed linions were a dull white. Nothing in the room was bright and cheery, not even the little girls face. Suzy, they called her, though most times she did not respond to the name. It was not her intent, to ignore them, but instead, the effect of the medicine they pumped into her viens everyday. Because of the medicine, Suzy's body was now small and fragile. Her wrists were no bigger than her daddy's thumb. Her hair was missing, having fallen out shortly after they started the Chemo Treatments. Her life was an endless cycle of pain and fear. Nothing to cheer the little girl, not even family could help that. Suzy's mother visited her everyday, just sitting and holding her daughters hand for hour at a time, but in all her visits, Suzy could not smile. Although she was young, she knew what cancer was, she knew what death was too and she was afraid. Very afraid.
One afternoon, Suzy's nurse led a woman and two teenaged girls into Suzy's room. Kneeling down the nurse said, "It's allright Suzy. They have come to bring you something." Suzy watched intently as her nurse left and one of the girls came forword. She was holding something and it was bright, so bright. The teenager placed the something on Suzy's lap and said, " It's a blanket. I made it for you. Isn't it pretty?"
It was indeed. The colors practicly danced off the quilt and into Suzy's lap. The threesome left not long after that and Suzy was left to play with the quilt. She ran her tiny fingers over the seams, her eyes flickered over the bright squares.
The brightness of the quilt overflowed, right into Suzy's heart. A warm feeling covered her from head to toe, something she had not felt in a long time.
Feeling as happy as she used to be when cooking with her mommy, or playing lion with her daddy, she let loose a cheery bit of a smile.
Okay, I've had to write and re-write the description of Richard Cranston at least five times, so when you comment, tell me how that was!
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The Cranstons had been orphans as long as they could remember. Their father was very ill when Richard was born, and died shortly before the birth of his second child, Judith. Nobody in the town of Oakley really remembered Mrs. Cranston, and the few people who did disliked mentioning her in their discourse, and even if someone asked about her, they would just come to a stop and change the subject. Likewise, Richard and Judith led lives without much knowledge of their parents, and were brought up by their wealthy grandfather.
To those who did not know him quite well, Mr. Cranston came across as a proud, irascible, and standoffish old man, one who could not possibly keep the young people well, but he was a good man, soft at heart, and generous, giving the young ones every kindness possible. The brother and sister led joyful lives under his roof. The eldest son of his family, Cranston had inherited a large plantation, the largest within miles, fully equipped with slaves and abundant crops and orchards, with which along with his birthright money, he could have not a worry concerning funds.
Not handsome, though not ugly, Richard Cranston had a plain face with a blunt nose and a quite boring mouth and had brown hair, but his brown eyes were bright, sparkling, charming, normally happy, but sometimes sorrowful, and, though he never told of his pain when he was unwell, one could tell how he suffered by his eyes. Always, the young man made sure he was well dressed and well groomed; his coats and trousers never went soiled nor unmended, his pale face washed and clean-shaven.
Ever since he was a young boy, Richard had been of poor health, sometimes bedridden for weeks, and at twenty-one years, there was no change in him. Pale and weak, he often had fits of coughing before he actually fell sick, and his younger sister Judith learned this early on, so whenever her brother showed any signs of illness that he would try to ignore, to cast aside as nothing, Judith would tell their grandfather, and soon after, worry herself ill, for she always expected the worst outcome of all, the one that all knew was not too far away from poor Richard.
And Judith, fair young Judith, was a classic beauty, having soft, curling hair of gold, romantic grey eyes, and a gentle face. Perfectly pale were her complexion, and her hands were long and smooth. As if it were chiseled out of china, her nose was soft and slightly upturned. Sweet and teasing, her mouth was witty, or calmly beautiful, with a smile every woman envied. As for her character, that remains to be found out.
Some of you may know me as 1AspiringLilly and others may know me as Elizabeth Enright and still more may know me by names I will not mention. Here I shall be known as Adira. Though I may be called by many names, I am but one person. I am a Christian young lady with a passion for good stories. My love of literature inspired me to write, so now I am a a "Lady Authoress."
I enjoy other things too. I love music! Especially Christian Rock. My favorite band is Kutless, Newsboys coming in a close second. I also (This may sound weird) enjoy stone carving. Photography, drawing and blogging are some more of my hobbies. I also hope to be playing the guitar soon. Sometimes I like to cook.
I am the second oldest out of six kids and the only girl. I love all of my brothers, but I still wish I had a sister. I also have the best parents anyone could ever dream of, God has truly blessed me!
May God Bless You Always!
Adira
Here's the prologue to my story.
The Redemption of Zelknown
Prologue
Fifty three people ran quietly through the dark valley. The only sounds were of labored breathing coming from fifty three people and of one hundred and six feet hitting the slushy ground. None of them spoke. None of them dared to. Their survival depended on silence, even the children knew that. Out of fifty three people there were only eleven children. The youngest of the children were two six-year old girls. Kylaren Jakone, better known as Kyla. And her best friend Leeyarii Gernnell. They were near the middle of the group. Leeyarii's eight-year-old brother, Mikian, ran just ahead of them.
Kyla desperately wanted to break the eerie silence, but she was afraid that if she even uttered the smallest sound the king's men would hear her and kill all of them. She glanced at Leeyarii and saw tears in her friends pretty hazel eyes. Death was on the horizon, no matter how hard they tried to outrun it.
The people had been on the run for several hours now, hardly taking five minutes for their breaks. They weren't sure how much longer they could keep going. The cold weather and dark cloudy skies didn't help lift their spirits either.
Suddenly a terrified cry came from someone in the back of the group.
“THEY'RE COMING!”
All fifty three people surged forward. Running faster than they knew they could. But it was not fast enough, they already knew that.
The Variters surged after them on horses. Two hundred trained and armed soldiers against fifty three unarmed people. The battle was already won, the Variters would brutally kill every last man, woman and child in the group. Kyla had never been so afraid in all of her life.
The group ran into a small group of willow trees with a pond and boulders near by. They hid behind boulders and in the reeds by the pond. A boy of twelve by the name of Korand Woy grabbed Kyla and Leeyarii's hands and brought them over to the largest willow tree, Mikian followed.
“Get as high as you can and stay out of sight, Korand ordered. The Variters might not find you here. Stay hidden, don't move and don't make a sound.”
Kyla, Leeyarii and Mikian climbed up into the tree. They found a branch that concealed them pretty well.
The Variters men rode into the grove of trees, swords drawn.
“Come out of your hiding places and die like men. You all are already dead anyway,” the general said.
No one moved from their hiding places.
“Very well, Christians, the general said. Die like the cowards you are.”
The general was a tall man. The top of his head was bald and he had a long pointed black beard. His eyes were piercing black. His skin was deeply tanned and his face was covered in little white scars. And he had an aura of evil about him. His name was Carredian Milkoe. A name greatly feared amongst Christians for his ruthless killing.
Kyla looked down on him from her perch in the tree. She knew his was a face she would never forget.
“Rat them out, and make them suffer,” Carredian ordered.
“Yes sir!” shouted the Variters.
All two hundred Variters surged into the small grove of trees. They quickly uncovered the Christians hiding places. Instead of using their swords they used whips. They even beat the children.
Kyla watched, green eyes open wide in horror. She wanted to scream but didn't. How could these people be so brutal?
After ten minutes the Variters were done with their killing. Carredian gave the order for them to leave. Each man left, not feeling any remorse for the murder the had just committed, many of them had enjoyed it.
Kyla looked at the bloody horror seen. Tears sprang into her eyes. She slipped out of the tree with Mikian and Leeyarii close behind her. She ran to her father. Dead. To her mother. Dead. Brother. Dead.
Kyla was shocked beyond words or tears. She just stared into the cloudy sky. Fear clutched her heart. Her family was gone, forever. They had died for their faith.
)
