My Mom and I have decided to write a fantasy story. It will be told from the point of view of two girls: Marina and Zoa. The chapters will usually alternate between those two views.
I ain't gonna  give any more away... so here it is!
!
(WE DON'T HAVE A TITLE YET. WE'LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN WE DO.) 
PROLOGUE
            Even in
sorrow, people have to eat.  So, in the
kingdom of Magosia, though heaviness hung in the air and the people walked with
tipped heads, the baker still punched down the dough, the butcher still
sharpened his knives, the mystical lady brewers still stirred their powerful
broiny teas, and the cheese makers still pressed their rounds.
            The
conversation was anything but normal on that day though.
            In the
baker’s shop, a customer said to no one in particular: “I heard they were
tossed in the screeching lake.”
            “No,” the
baker countered, “they were swallowed in the pit of thorns.”
            In the town
square, the captain of the royal guard was bombarded with questions.
“What will we do without a king and
queen?” a crinkled old man wailed.
“They’ve put old man Ghur on the
throne as the steward of Magosia,” the captain said in a firm voice that he
hoped would calm those around him.
“But he’s so old!” a woman
screeched… not calmed at all.
            The captain
shook his head again.  “Old, but
faithful.”
            “But he’s half
blind!"
            “And lame!”
            The captain
raised his gloved hands.  “Please.  Do you not trust our faithful steward?  Ghur has been a loyal adviser to two
generations of Magosia royalty.  He will
take care of our kingdom.”
            No one said
anything.  But there were several more
wails.
In the Hallowed Hall where the lady
brewers stirred their pots of broiny tea, customers sat around tables,
breathing in the mystical steam coming off their wide round mugs.
“And what about the girls?” a wife
quietly asked her husband.
            “They’re
gone,” a lady brewer interjected loudly. 
“Disappeared.”
            “Will they
go searching for them?” asked another lady, sweating profusely over her hot
mug.
            “I guess
there are no clues of their whereabouts,” a second lady brewer said.
            “Then I
will go looking for them!” the sweating lady said, pounding the table and
standing up abruptly.  The broiny tea was
clearly taking effect.
            The day
passed.  In the evening, a lull fell over
the town.  Almost in unison, the people
drifted out to the town square.  In the
fading light, there were whispers, there were tears, there were hugs.
            And then,
after several moments of hush, a lady older than Time, rose up on the statue of
the king and queen that marked the center of the square.
            “This day
has come and now it’s done,” she squealed in a voice that croaked and lurched
like a warped metal wheel.
            Some of the
people tried to shush her up and pull her down from the statues.  “Quiet Brenessa.”
            But the
lady was strong, and she resisted the pulls.
            “No!  No! 
You must hear this!”
            They
stopped trying to pull her down.  A
silence fell over the square.
            “Time will melt into years and one day
            You’ll realize these fears have gone
away.
            But beware, for that is when danger
grows,
            And death is near, as the broiny
knows.
            For on the day darkness covers all,
            Into her grip the kingdom will surely
fall.”
            And the only way to again be free,
            Will be under the power of the
three.”
            Without
another word, the lady stepped down, walked through the crowd and disappeared
into the twilit evening.
            Then the
town wailer rose onto the statue, and the wailing began.  The people mourned their dead king and queen,
and their lost princesses, and their uncertain future.  And as the wailer led them into louder and
louder cries, one chant began to come through all the others:
            “Where are
the girls?  Where are the girls?”
holy guacamole...that is fantastic...no joke...I'm in awe...wow...love you, Grandma
ReplyDeleteWow! I'm hooked!
ReplyDelete!!!
ReplyDeleteI like it!
( and the word BROINY.)