Greetings,

I just wanted to let you guys know that I am working on posting Chapter One of one of my stories.

Thank you for your patience.

~Sam

Posted in The Inklings

Fellow writers, it's Charlotte Bronte again. I am writing this to say that there was a grave mistake made in my last post. Sorry for everything that's been happening. I am not leaving Inklings, period. I will never leave Inklings. I might not be able to go on it as much as I'd like, but I'm not leaving. So I'm sorry for an confusion.

Unfortunately, our computer is still not up to par, so I might not be able to post as much as I'd like, but this is okay. I'll stick around.

Charlotte Bronte (UndoTheHorsePen)

PS: I'm sorry, everyone.

I am Sam Hopkins (or, SammyJo, on HSB). I was told I needed to introduce myself on here. Sorry if you meant I needed to comment with my own account instead of writing an entry on the Beginningwriters account. Feel free to delete this entry if that's how it goes. I'll understand.

Anyway, as for introducing myself: Like yourselves, I am a writer. Well, in my own mind, at least. I pray that at least one of my stories will someday be published, as I have created them with the sole purpose of being a light for Jesus, in a way. Right now, my goal is to produce at least one good, fictional book, in where the lovers trust there lives and "love story" to God. I want to show the world (mostly young people) that things turn out for the better when you trust the Lord. Especially with this vital area in their lives. I would like to know what you all think about this purpose.

Thank you for allowing me to become a fellow Inkling!

Your Friend In Christ,

Sam Hopkins

PS: If there is anyone else with the name "Sam" on here, please let me know; otherwise I will simply be known as "sam". Thank you.

Posted in Writers Talk

Hi all!

This week’s Writer’s Talk is about outlines. does anybody do a quick outline of their story beforehand? Do you find that a brief outline of the story helps you keep on track, or does it limit your creativity? How detailed are your outlines?  Do you use it as an emergency measure, if a section just isn’t flowing? What’s your experience?

Dear friends and writers:

Current issues have deemed it impossible for me to continue on here for the time being. While I am still going to continue to be a part of Inklings, I will unfortunately be unable to continue on here for several days or weeks. If all goes well I will be able to continue on here, but unfortunately I may have to leave.

I have many friends on here, all of whom are excellent writers. I hope to continue my writings on here. I can be reached by PM on homeschoolblogger under the name UndoTheHorsePen.

Yours in Christ,
Charlotte Bronte (also known as UndoTheHorsePen in some circles)

The Goode Vaccine

A Story By Elizabeth Knight

Chapter One

November 3^rd

It was a cool November evening. The skies were blue-gray and the sun was starting to set on the horizon. It was a beautiful evening, but no one would enjoy it.

A man with broad shoulders and light brown hair stepped out of his car and looked carefully at the surrounding houses None of the houses looked lived in, but finally he selected a little old blue house on the corner. It appeared to be the most recently lived in. James Marker knocked but heard no response, so he entered. “Hello? He called. Still no response. He walked into the dark kitchen, it smelled of old food and death. He opened the pantry. The smell was so horrible that he could taste it. There were a lot of canned foods. He closed the pantry again, and started searching the rest of the house. He checked the bedrooms and the linen closet and found some blankets and few other trivial things, but he what he really wanted to find, was a survivor. He opened the door to the master bedroom and stopped cold when he saw a dead woman on the bed. He was horrified and quickly retreated. Searching for survivors was harder than he had thought. As he was heading back to the front door, he noticed a small note on the dining room table. He picked it up and read it.

Please, whoever finds my little home, don't hesitate to take things.

I know that I will be dead by the time you get here, so please take

my things! I hate to see it all wasted. Also, if you see my little cat,

Fluffy, would you please be so kind as to take care of him?

Izzy

The note was written in a shaky hand and James had to read it twice before he could make out what it said.

“Hm,” he said softly to himself.

He wanted to get out of house, but he decided to honor the woman's wishes. So he took another look around. He found a few sheets and blankets that could come in handy and he took the canned good out of the pantry. He couldn't find Fluffy anywhere though, so he left the house, tossed the things he'd gathered into the trunk of his car and got into the drivers seat. In the passenger seat sat a dark haired woman with a book in her slender hands. She looked up from the book as James got into the car.

“Are you okay?”

James glanced at her and replied, “Fine. I'm fine, Amy.”

Amy frowned. “I'm not convinced.”

“There was a dead woman in there. We keep looking for survivors, we've been looking for nearly a month, but all I see is death. I'm just not sure how much longer I can take this...”

Amy touched his shoulder sympathetically, unsure of how to reply.

“Do you think we'll ever find anyone? I mean, I found you, but it feels like we're the last ones left,” James said quietly.

“I don't think we're the last ones. God promised that He wouldn't wipe the earth out like that again,” Amy replied.

“If you hadn't noticed, I don't exactly believe in God.”

“Well, I believe in Him and I'm quite sure that there are more people left.”

James frowned. “If God were real, he'd show us in some way. If He loves us, He'd show it. Instead, all I see is death, pain and suffering. If your God is real then He wouldn't put us through this.”

“God does love you, James. So much in fact that He-”

“Stop! I don't want to hear anymore. My day has been stressful enough. The last thing I need is to have this conversation again!.”

Amy fell silent and turned.

James frowned and pulled away from the curb. He didn't say anything and didn't look at Amy. He just wanted to get some sleep. He wanted to wake up from this horrible dream.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

A girl of about fourteen or fifteen, Stephanie Monroe. She had chin length sandy-blond hair and she sat curled up in a window seat. The light of the moon reflected in Her bright blue eyes and the tears streaming from them. Her thoughts were far away. On what had led to all of this, trying to make sense of it.

Just a year ago, a virus had popped up in Asia and had in a few months it had into Europe and the Americas. It had been discovered by Dr. Bradford Goode. So it had been named after him. And the Goode epidemic began. Everyone panicked. Thousands of people were infected. It was like a flash flood and everyone started drowning. Schools were shut down. And work on a vaccine started. After three months it was released. Many rushed out to get, while others doubted that such a hastily made vaccine would be reliable and still others didn't believe in getting vaccines, ever.

Stephanie's family had been amongst the people who didn't believe in getting vaccines. Then her seven year-old sister, Sylvia, had gotten the virus. She just kept getting worse and her parents had taken her to the hospital. While Stephanie and her thirteen year-old brother, Jordan had stayed home. Sylvia had died that night and her parents had been forced into getting the vaccine while they were at the hospital. Shortly after they got the vaccine, they started acting oddly, almost drunken, then they just seemed to slip into a state of stupor.

A week after that, The U.S. had decided to follow in the footsteps of several other countries and force the vaccine upon the people. If you didn't get the vaccine, it would be forced upon you and you would face five years confinement. Most of the people willingly got the vaccine, but others rebelled. They got it forced upon them. Then came the horrible realization that the vaccine was more dangerous than the virus. They had the same reaction as Stephanie's parents. They started acting drunken, then fell into a stupor. After a few weeks their brains completely shut down and they died. Withing a few months, most of the population of the Earth was dead and gone. Leaving Stephanie horribly alone.

After a while, Stephanie turned her thoughts back to the present. She knew that she couldn't stay here, but she didn't want to leave. This had been her home for the past six years. It held everything that her family had owned and held dear. Now it was empty, except for her and the dog. She'd let the cat out yesterday and he hadn't returned. Maybe it was for the best that way. After all, it would be hard to travel with a cat. It would be much easier to travel with the dog.

As she sat there wondering what to bring and what to leave, she heard a noise that she hadn't heard in a long time. For a moment she froze, then she ran out the door into the front yard and nearly fell to her knees in relief. A car! There were still people alive! She ran towards the street and the car stopped abruptly upon seeing her. A broad shouldered man in his mid-thirties stepped out of the car, surprise written all over his face. They stared at each other for a few moments, shocked. Before either of them said anything, a tall woman in her late twenties stepped out of the car and said, “Hello! I'm Amy Hanson,” as though this were a normal meeting.

“Hello... I'm Stephanie,” the Stephanie replied still shocked but a smile was coming to her lips. She hadn't smiled in over a month. It felt good.

The man had an odd look on his face, “I'm James Marker.”

“Okay,” Amy said, “Stephanie... Are you the only person here or are there others?”

Stephanie stiffened and looked away. “It's just me.”

Amy looked sad and sympathetic at the same time and put a hand on Stephanie's shoulder. “You okay?”

Stephanie pulled away a bit and shrugged. “As good as I'm gonna feel I guess.”

She then looked over Amy's shoulder to James, “Um, Mr. Marker-”

“It's James,” James cut her off.

“Okay then, I'm Stevie.” Stephanie replied. “Would you and Amy like to come inside?”

“Alright. Just lemme park the car better.”

“Okay.”

It was a restless night. Tossing and turning, grousing and groaning, Casey was twisting her bedsheets in every direction, until she had nearly dislodged all her sheets off her bed. Despite the unsettled slumber, this was not a light sleep.  Lightening and thunder hollered outside, flashing white, crashing vociferously, as if raging at the oblivious sleeping world of men. Undisturbed, Casey slept. While her body was slumbering, Casey’s mind, which was now thoroughly deprived of rest, was racing inside, neurons sparking and crackling in her brain like a fireworks display that seemed to never end. Involuntarily, Casey was locked in her dream.

Casey felt like she was rushing through a narrow tunnel at high speed, one more turn and she just knew she was sure to crash. Abruptly, the tunnel ended, and without even consulting her, Casey’s body began to pirouette up and up and up. Spinning round like a mad ballerina, Casey felt like her brain was about to be flung out of her head, she simply could not stop! Frightened by her unmanageable spiralling, Casey was immeasurably relieved when her body finally came under control once more. She looked underneath her feet. There was nothing there, only space. Beneath her, countless thousands of kilometres below, lay the earth. When she realized she was simply hanging in empty space, with nothing holding her up, Casey’s terror returned ten times stronger. She felt like she was going to vomit, yet she could not turn her eyes from the terrible spectacle which engulfed her; hanging in space. Casey was imprisoned inside her dream.

Hanging in space, with seemingly nothing to keep her from falling, Casey saw the earth, laid out flat like a map beneath her. In fact, this earth was flat! Desperately trying to fight the panic that was inexplicably surging through her chest and thudding into her brain like a giant jackhammer, Casey thought to herself, with a bizarre jolt of curiosity; “This isn’t a round earth, it’s flat, like…a, a giant pizza!” Around the edge of this arcane pizza-earth ran a huge mountain range much like a tough pizza crust, against which the world’s oceans burst upon in vain fury. Undisturbed by the madness of the angry oceans, the great continent which seemed to make up most of the landmass of this pizza-earth, stood resolute, like a majestic ocean-liner. Casey’s attention was irresistibly drawn towards it. Although Casey was so distant from this pizza-earth, she could see each detail vividly. Regal mountains, vivacious rivers, beautiful forests and grassy plains unfolded before her eyes, as she roved to and thro over the western half of this new world. A fresh west wind blew upon her face. Refreshed, Casey began to feel the panic recede. Then she turned her eye eastward.  A muffled scream caught in her throat. Again the panic returned like a vengeful monster. Casey was trapped in her dream.

Enshrouding the earth like a grey shawl, a thick soupy mist was gradually covering the face of the eastern part of the earth. Inexplicable terror threatened to take control of Casey’s mind. Casey found it harder and harder to breath; the air seemed thick and sluggish. Frantically trying to suck air into her lungs, Casey felt like she was about to faint as the worst panic of all began to envelop her like a funeral cloth. Then, relief! Blowing hard from the west, the refreshing, soothing, comforting west wind blew against her cheek again. For one split second, Casey felt the panic recede, only for it to return wilder and stronger than ever. She could see the mist close up now- swirling, thick and impenetrable. While the western wind had calmed Casey down, now the mist was pushing the breeze back; Casey felt faint, she was falling, spinning, falling once more! The mist and the wind seemed to be contending for control over her. The battle grew fiercer, Casey grew fainter. Beating down on her like the noon sun, a repressive heat scorched her skin. Casey felt like she could scream, she was dizzy, panicky, hot, falling, sweating all at once! Just when she couldn’t stand any more, a vicious heat wave passed through her body at the same time as a blinding flash of light seared her vision. Defeated, the terrifying mist receded. Still Casey’s dream continued.

Gasping, battling for breath, Casey could only watch as the whole universe, stars and all, flashed past her, leaving her, speeding away like a train at the railway station. As if the universe was being sucked away, while she could only gasp for breath. Finally, mercifully, she awoke; she awoke in her customary bed, in her customary room, in her customary universe.  Casey’s room, typically, was in a mess. Bed sheets were tossed everywhere, her alarm clock ringing madly. Outside the window, lightening crackled, as rain pattered against the windowpane. Casey felt relief flood through her. “Okkayy.” She muttered to herself as she gathered her pillow from the floor. “That was weird.”

Third chapter of my story. I have found a new pen name, and it is....Charlotte Bronte. Please let me know if it is already taken, and if it is, I will change it.
_________________________________________________________________________

Ryan disapproved of the stranger, but against his own consceinece, he hired him. No one had been able to get close to that beast of a stallion since Charlie had stopped riding. And he hadn't seen a person like that since Charlie...and since his wife.

"Uncle Ryan?" Savannah's voice broke throush his thoughts like sunlight slanting through rain. "What?" he asked gruffly. "Can I go down and exercise Dream?" "Yes. Wear a helmet," he said. Strawberry Cream Dream was a little pony that Savannah loved. He was a red roan with a white blaze, and he had eyes the colour of coal. It would have terrified Ryan to see her on one of the bigger, more fiery tempered Throughbreds or Mustangs, but on the short, somewhat fat, Dream he didn't have to worry.

Charlie had disappeared back into the house, but Ryan curtly suggested that Cieran come with him and Savannah down to the stables. Cieran accepted with a curt nod, and the two of them walked up towards the barn behind the bumbling Savannah. The day was already beginning to become hot, and the grass crunched brown and dry under their feet.

The barn was warm and smelled of the sweetness of hay and leather and the ever-definable musk of horses. The sound of pigeons taking shelter in the rafters, the hiss of hay being pulled from a haynet, the wuffle of horses as they greeted the new-comer and the old man. Savannah already had Dream cross-tied in the aisle, his heavy Western saddle and bridle hung on the saddle hook. She circled the curry comb over his reddish coat, then swiped away the dust with a dandy brush.

Ryan walked slowly down the aisle, showing Cieran each horse and identifying them by name. The black in the first stall was Blue, the bright bay mare across from him was the pretty but tempermental Sheila. There was the huge brown gelding that Ryan had claimed for his own, with hooves the size of dinner plates and a name that suited him: Gentle Giant, also known as Gent. And of course Pilgrim, the pretty little quarter horse that had belonged to his wife.

Cieran looked at each horse gently and quietly, without a single word. He scratched the horses gently and fondly, as if he had known them all his life. Ryan noticed how he acted almost like a horse himself, making rumbling noises in his throat and blowing into their nostrils in greeting. Ryan knew this greeting and used it himself; an old Navajo Indian trick used to a greet a horse in a friendly way. Horses greet each other by blowing, and it's the gentlest way to do so.

Savannah had tacked up Dream and was trotting him in figure eights out in the paddock by the time Cieran and Ryan had finished looking over each of the horses. The stallion still had not returned; Ryan couldn't see the house, but he guessed that this was where the stallion was, standing centinal at the door. If only Charlie still admonished the stallion, then it would be easier to get him back up to the stable.

Meanwhile, Charlie sat at the kitchen table eating a slice of toast and drinking another glass of juice. She was alone in the house now; every noise reached her ears like a shout and it was beginning to make her feel a little creepy. She wished she could find solace in knowing that, indeed, the stallion still was outside, but she could not.

She shut her eyes and tipped her chair back, resting her heels on the ground. An image flashed into her mind, of the stallion's face framed with blue sky and the crackling sound of fire in the background- and then a scream. Charlie jerked upright. Pain shot through her leg and she clutched her knee, gritting her teeth. The scream had been from her dream- that dream that she had held deep inside herself for so long.

Feeling mad, she dumped the rest of her toast and juice into the sink and stalked back upstairs, into her room and shut the door. She sat down on the bed feeling sorry for herself, then she heard something that made her retreat across the hall and into the far bedroom. She parted the curtains for the third time that morning and what she saw terrified her beyond belief.

Her father was seated high upon Gent, riding next to Cieran, who was on Blue. What struck her was that Cieran was an excellent rider; an arrow straight back, dropped heels, toes pointed outwards and one hand clasping the reins gently but firmly. Ryan also was a good rider, but she hadn't seen someone rider like Cieran in years.

Blue pranced in place around the stallion, who still grazed unheeded in the front yard. Old Gent was completely unperterbed, and dropped his head as he walked by, chewing his western bit slowly and walking right by. But the younger, spunkier Blue, gave a little buck in the stallion's direction, and was reward with a sharp nip from the stallion. Blue shot forward at a canter, but Cieran immedietly dropped his hands and tugged on the reins, bringing Blue in a tight circle down to a walk.

Irked, the stallion switched his tail uneasily and continued to graze. Blue was a spunky little colt, a fine little two year old Ryan had bought as a yearling, but the stallion, though young and barely topping six years, felt himself older, wiser then the still-spindely foal. He dropped his head and continued to graze, looking as regal and full of himself as a king on his throne.

Charlie watched and almost laughed, catching herself before the first giggle could escape her well-guarded heart. Then she let the curtains fall, and retreated back to her own room.

Posted in Posted by Adam Brewer

That is something I’ve been trying to remember ever since I came here, but unfortunately I forgot. In my life I have faced the problem of upsetting friends and family with things I’ve said. Much of the time I don’t mean what I say, or I will realize that what I said was wrong, but that doesn’t help smooth over feelings. I have learned that apologizing and starting to DO the right thing is the best way.

A year ago I was very angry, and I didn’t have many friends, actually about the only friends I had were Inklings. I was chronically angry and took it out on everyone. Now this changed, but not before I was kicked out of the inklings, and had a good long time to think about it. I fought with a lot of Inklings members and openly mocked the rules, and I am surprise now that I think back on it that Pip and Jane let me back in, but they indeed did. However it was the same day that I suddenly realized I needed to get my heart right with God, and work things out with my family.

So a year later I had all but forgotten the inklings, but sure enough one day Chezdak had written about an “American character” she was making, and I laughed so hard that I kinda remembered the Inklings, and that I did have fun here and it wasn’t all fighting and tears. So I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything to hurt other people this time, and that I wouldn’t let myself offend anyone. And so I took that re-invite, and joined Inklings.

It was all but dead.

Sure enough not many still were here, and others were leaving. I was kinda upset to learn this, but I plunged in and started talking to someone I had kinda overlooked last time I was here. Arianna Joy. She in many ways reinforced the positive memories I had because she’s a sweet kind person who helps lift peoples spirits when they’re down.

It was so positive that I plucked up the courage to go to our leader and ask her for a list of tings to be done, so that we could bring inklings back together. It all worked so well that In some ways I have become proud, and have at a couple of times though jokingly proclaimed myself the best writer here. And I apparently hurt a couple people here.

Now to handle something. I never meant that by saying that Pip thought of me as dark and evil, that she CALLED me dark. From a couple of PM’s during the fiasco I kind of got the feeling that she thought I was evil and dark because of some of the things I did. I never meant this as an attack, nor did I mean that she was evil in any way, but she and I never got along, and that’s the sad truth.

Now I ask anyone I have offended during this to forgive me. I promise that I am not trying to hurt anyone or imply that anyone else was evil.

Posted in Posted by Rudyard Kipling

Posted in Posted by Adam Brewer

Jacob sat in the dirt making circles in it. He was about seven, and he was blond haired. His friend James sitting next to him was a year older, and had much darker hair. They were waiting for dinner, and Jacob’s mom had cast them both out of the small hut so she could work.

“Want to go see farmer Ben’s new chickens?” James asked.

“Nope.” Jacob replied.

“I heard that he got white chickens.” James said.

“That is nonsense; all chickens are brown.” Jacob replied.

James started picking up small rocks out of the ground, and threw them out at the other huts across the pathway. Another boy ran by their house, and stepped in Jacobs circles. Jacob who was furious went back to work making them again, but James got up.

“I am going to go see farmer Ben’s chickens.” He said.

“Okay.” Jacob said brushing some dirt off of his clothes.

They both got up and started running down the old dirt road. They were towards the middle of town, so it was going to take them a few minutes to get to farmer Ben’s field.

They came up to a bend that lead them through the town market. James took the lead and started running down towards the market.

The market was different from the rest of the town. When you arrived at the market you would see that there were bricks instead of dirt to walk on, and everything and everyone got louder. People having conversations would be walking from stand to stand, mothers would be carrying sacks of vegetables while dragging their screaming kids, but nothing was as loud as the stall-keepers.

Stall-keepers often were yelling as loud as they could to get potential customers. Every stand was competing against another, and every stand had the loudest person yelling for them. They kept displays up all the time, and were always sweeping the space around their stalls, so they had clean and tidy spaces, but the middle of the walkway was covered in patches and blotches of dirt and mud.

James ran slightly ahead of Jacob. They ran by people wheeling carts full of vegetables, and furs. James jumped and hopped on crates as they tore through the market. They turned down a street to avoid the main street hustle. Jacob then took the lead and ran between houses with clothes hanging between them, and down toward the brook.

The brook had long been said to be the deepest in the land. Some had drowned because they thought that just because it was narrow that it was shallow. James and Jacob walked around to the bridge, and crossed there. The roads lead them all the way to the farm of farmer Ben.

“I do not see any chickens.” Jacob said disappointedly.

“Dennis said they were here.” Said James.

“I do not see them though.” Said Jacob.

Jacob ran toward the other edge of the farm, but before the he reached the edge he heard the city’s horn.

__.....__

Felicia walked down to the market to buy some potatoes. She was almost relived when she saw the two boys had run off. Jacob was always trying to help, but he had a tendency to get in her way. She usually sent him out while she was prepping a meal.

She was preparing a potato soup, but she had run out of potatoes, so she had to go get some. She loved going down to the market, and was usually glad to have an excuse to go down there. Many women had never paid much attention to her because she was an outsider. She and Jacob had moved to this small village only two years before, but she and Jacob had become friends with their next door neighbors, so in some way it had somehow balanced.

Their neighbors had been kind to them from the beginning. They had been the ones to help them get the house they had needed. Felicia was poor, and most of the rental homes had been taken, so her only choice was to buy one outright. She had only half the money needed, so in exchange for some labor help their neighbors agreed to help the buy the next door home.

As it turned out the whole line of work had turned out to be something that she knew about, carpentry. Her father had been a carpenter, and before she had married she used to watch him during any free time she got. Her father had even shown her a couple of time how to saw wood, and to use a sanded paper to scrape the splinters free. They helped her through all of this, and while others were cold to her, she knew she could depend on them.

She had finally reached the market. When she had moved here she was still recovering from the loss of her husband William. William had gone off into the war against Sulfire, but it was not two months after he’d left her that they brought back his sword saying he’d been kill in a hail of boulders.

“Hello, my young lady!” She heard a man call to her. He was trying to sell furs. She sometimes liked looking at such things, but she needed to go get potatoes not furs. She headed down to a vegetable stand and started looking at the potatoes. The stall-keeper was talking to everyone but her. She ignored his rudeness and grabbed ten large potatoes. Suddenly he did notice her.

“Hello, how may I help you, my lady?” He said.                                                  

“I would like to buy these potatoes.” She said.

“Just a second here and we’ll see.” He replied.

He grabbed the sack of potatoes from her hand and set them on a scale. He brought them back.

“Ten gold coins.” The man said, and she paid him. She took the potatoes and started heading back to her house.

She got near her house and saw that her neighbors had left. She set the potatoes on the counter and grabbed a large iron pot out of the corner. She grabbed a rod and used it to put the pot on a hook above the fire. She had added the water and seasonings earlier, so the pot was almost too heavy. She tossed three potatoes in the pot to boil. He job was almost done; she still had to clean up after the mess she had made earlier.

That was when she heard the city’s horn blast.

__.....__

Jacob was running through the panicked streets. He was separated from James, and was trying to find him. He was lost in the market, and was nearly run over by Stall-keepers who had packed up and were trying to get out. There were spooked horses and other large beasts running through the streets unguarded.

Suddenly soldiers with their swords drawn were running through the streets. They were in leather armor with metal plating, and each carrying a metal shield with the eight point star of Melendy.

The soldiers were running towards something, but Jacob was just trying not to get trampled. He ran down another street only to see the cavalry heading his way, so ducked back out. He was trying to get home, and still looking for James. He was scared, but he kept trying anyway.

Finally he spotted James, but they were on opposite side of the street. James spotted him through the madness as well.

They both couldn’t get to each other.

__.....__

Felicia spotted her son trying to get to the other side of the street. She ran through the crazed crowd trying to get to their individual homes. She pushed through stands that had been abandoned in an attempt to escape. Her son spotted her, and ran toward her. Just before they reached each other a policeman riding on a horse rode between them, but after that they embraced each other.

“What’s going on?” He yelled in her ear. Despite being loud she could barely tell what he’d said.

“We will be safe.” She assured him, but wasn’t so sure herself.

The policemen were out directing people to their homes. Felicia was trying to find her way. normally she could figure out how to get somewhere, but with everything in shambles she was a bit turned around.

“Hello!” she yelled at an officer. He stopped and turned to her.

“ I need to find the stable; can you help me?” She yelled.

“Ma’am please we advise you to head home.” He replied

“I have a horse, a fast horse, please point me to the stable.” She pleaded.

He started to argue, but then he pointed of toward the chaos. “Better hurry that side of town is pretty much destroyed Ma’am. She barely caught that last part as she was tearing through the streets with her son. He was weaving better than she was so the only held hands.

They were running down a street when the started hearing rumbles. At first she couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, but then a giant fireball flew overhead and landed off to her left somewhere rumbling as it hit the ground. The city was being bombarded, and she was still with Jacob trying to get to the stables.

They got to a clearing, and what they saw wasn’t pretty. It appeared that they were attacking the city plaza. Jacob pointed, and she almost cried in relief, the stables were still standing. She however noted that the gate keeper was no longer there. She and Jacob ran to the gate, with a little caution she lifted and dropped Jacob over the tall gate, and he promptly opened it for her. She ran in and saw all the horses bucking and kicking, but she was looking for her horse.

She found her horse which was strangely calm compared to the others, but she still seemed anxious. The horse was a perfect white, and was a small horse. Her name was Swift. Her husband had bought the horse long ago, but it had taken a long time to tame her. She was a wild horse of the north, and as such she had roamed the plains. Northern horses were highly sought after.

She entered, and Swift nearly raised onto her hind legs before Felicia calmed her.

After reassuring her everything was fine she put the blanket on and then the saddle. After fastening the saddle she proceeded to put on the bridle.

She put Jacob up first, and then rose upon the horse herself. After unfastening the horse she made a noise in her ear and they rode the horse out. The city was still being bombarded, but now there was little left, rocky mud homes had been demolished by the flaming boulders, and the hay roofs had been burned down.

In one direction she saw the Melendian army fighting the soldiers in black in red. She gasped at how few there were left. The black and red army she knew very well. It was the Sulfirians, and they were already riding the red banner in. She quickly tuned the horse around, and took off in the other direction. There was little left anywhere; only a house or two stood standing. The site horrified her, and yet didn’t surprise her either. The Sulfirian’s king, Lord Devioun the Dragon, was known to kill his own for sport, and had burned down cities before, so there was little to be surprised about.

She rode down from the village hill to a little bridge, and quickly crossed it. She saw that the fields ahead were not clear, but filled with siege weapons and cavalry of Sulfire. She knew there was little she could do, but either wait them out, or charge them and hope she made it through alive.

She charged at them.

Her horse ran over the rolling field, but for her speed Felicia wondered how she was going to slip out of the wall of horses ahead. The catapults still launching their flaming boulders above her head; she rode down at the wall, and that was when the charged at her. She turned her horse to the right, and some of the men jumped out of line; exactly what she wanted. She turned around and some of the men went around her, and turned around in pursuit.  She took a sharp right again and found herself out of the ring of soldiers. She charged her horse toward the war machines.

She thought she was in the home stretch until she saw a man standing in front of her. He was not any man though; he was Lord Devioun. She stopped her horse, but the other men were not pursuing anymore. She was in a trap.

“Enough men! She’s mine!” He yelled. She was close enough to see his young face. He looked no older than 18, but anyone who knew anything about him knew he was very much older. His long fine blond hair was lashing around in the wind, and he had terribly dark eyes. His armor was a simple and rounded in shape, but not many gaps in it, and it was painted in black with red design much like the rest of his army.

“Do you surrender?” He yelled.

“Never!” She roared back, but she did not waist time she charged her forward, and tried to go way around. He then pulled out a sword; A red glowing sword. He held it high above his head, and then he stuck the ground beneath him.

At first nothing happened, but then she realized the earth beneath her was rumbling. She urged her now extremely frightened horse, but her horse reared and tried to buck her off. Devioun drew his sword out, and from the hole left the earth started cracking everywhere. The terrible rumbling would stop as she saw the land quaking and shaking beneath them. She urged her horse once more, and this time the horse bolted forward so quickly that she nearly fell off. She felt Jacob cling to her back tighter than ever. She reached her arm around to hold Jacob, and pulled him in front of her. The rumbling was quieting, but she now heard arrows whizzing by her head as she now was headed for the forest, but worse she turned to see Devioun’s War dogs perusing them. They were small grey and white beasts, but they were fast and ferocious.

She was nearing the forest, but the dogs were gaining on them. She looked for anything on her saddle that she could hit them with, but could not find anything. Finally she reached the forest edge, but the dogs did not break pursuit. What did happen though was she realized they were going to get out of there. She knew these lands, and so she carefully guided the horse down to lower ground. The dogs were still pursuing, but they had lost ground. She headed lower still down near the river.

As she neared the waters edge she looked for the perfect place to cross. Suddenly the dogs popped out of the trees very close, so she just pulled her horse out into the water. The horse resisted for a second, but then charged into the water and made her way for the other side. It was not a difficult task for them, but the water was rushing fast enough that the dogs were being carried away. She got out on the other side her ankles damp, but she saw the dogs break pursuit and run back to their master. Jacob was still safely in front. She turned the Horse, and headed south.