Writing Contest! [CLOSED]

Share any written short stories, novels, or poetry

Moderator: Tea House Moderators

What should be done about the word limit?

Only entries that are under 3000 words should be accepted.
24
56%
Entries over 3000 words should be allowed, but they should be fined 5g per word.
19
44%
 
Total votes: 43

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ML1201
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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by ML1201 »

Story:
Birth of a New Generation
Spoiler
An alarm clock goes off in a teenage girl’s bedroom that has band posters and posters of models covering the walls. A pale, slim hand reaches out from under the blanket, clumsily trying to turn off the alarm. Finally it turns off the alarm and the blanket is thrown off the still sleepy girl. With a disheveled head of wavy reddish brown hair and sea green eyes, the girl yawns loudly while scratching her head.
“Macaria-chan! Breakfast is ready!” A motherly voice calls up to the girl. She mumbles something incoherent back. Getting up she heads to the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth, finishing she changes into a clean t-shirt and shorts, then heads downstairs.
“Honestly Macaria! Can’t you at least act more like a girl? Come here.” Beckons a slender woman with night black hair and eyes.
“Let her be dear, if she wants to dress like that then let her. She’ll grow out of it eventually.” Says a slightly athletic looking man with coppery blonde hair. “She’s an active girl so wearing a skirt will give boys her age the chance to take a peek up it, so better if she wears shorts instead of a skirt.”
“Well, she should at least tie her hair properly. I mean look at it! She just lets it fly everywhere!”
“Mom! It’s just going to get messy again anyways. At least if I leave it out like this it will be easier to fix.” The girl, Macaria retorts. Pulling away from her mother, who was trying to put it into a braid, she sits down at the end of the table and says “Itadakimasu.”
“Macaria!”
“Don’t worry, I’m telling you she’ll grow out of it. She’s still only fifteen after all. Not to mention taller and more active than most girls her age. Climbing trees and wondering around in the woods. By the time she gets into college she’ll be bored with it.” Macaria’s father reminds his wife.
“Fine, fine. But be sure to at least be back before diner Macaria. It would be nice not having to worry about you after dark.”
“Sure thing mom, and thanks for the wonderful meal again.” Getting up she kisses her mom on both cheeks just like her father does, grabs up her baseball cap and heads towards the door.
“Oh, Macaria!” Her father calls as she disappears around a corner. Peeking her head back around she replies “What?”
“Don’t forget our favorite saying in English. ‘Those who stand up and face their fears-‘”
“’Are the ones with true courage.’” She finishes, grinning at her father as she runs out the door.
“The advantage to living in the country in Japan is that there are some many interesting things that you can find! Well, that’s probably true for most other countries too, but I cannot say since I’ve lived here all my life. Dad might know though.” After thinking aloud she ponders for a bit. “I’ll ask him later when I get back.” Running into the woods she heads over to her favorite spot. Looking out over the town from the top of a hill she can barely make out her school. “It’s great not having to worry about school! No teachers yelling at you because of your appearance, I can sleep in, and enjoy the outdoors. I can work on my summer assignments later; for now I am going to go exploring!” Smirking she heads deeper into the woods as she keeps true to her word.
Near noon she pulls out a roll she had stuffed into her pocket before leaving and nibbles at it. Content she lounges on the bough of a tall, shady oak tree. After a time something begins to shine in her eyes, causing her to awaken from her nap. Looking around she sees nothing at first, but then catches a glimpse of something shining further back in the bushes. Getting up and dusting herself off she hurries over to where she thinks the object is. Finding it she looks at it carefully, and then frowns.
“Why can’t people throw their trash away where it belongs!? Sesh!” Taking the object, which resembles a cell phone, she puts it into her pocket. Suddenly a vortex of light opens before her and an unknown force begins to pull her towards the vortex. “Hey! What-?” Then she is engulfed in a blinding light.
* * * * *
“Hey, hey you! Human girl! Wake up!” A strange voice calls.
“Huh? Wha..?” Opening her eyes she sees some weird yellow tabby looking puff ball with purple stripes. “What the!? What are you?” Sitting up and backing away from the strange cat creature Macaria bumps into something else. Looking behind her she sees something really tall, but cannot make out what it is. Looking up she sees that it is a giant tree with what looks like a face with a mustache.
“How rude, I’m a Nyaromon, and that there behind you is Cherrymon.” The creature explains. Macaria just stares blankly at the ‘tree’.
“Haven’t you been told that it’s rude to stare at people? Humans have no manners I see.” Says the tree.
“Wah!” Jumping up and away from it Macaria points a finger at Cherrymon. “Okay, just so you know this is the first time I’ve seen or even heard of a talking tree.”
“I’m not a tree, I’m a digimon. That is a tree.” Cherrymon explains while pointing at a tree. Dumbfounded Macaria can only laugh under her breath.
“I’m dreaming. I’ve got to be! There is no other explanation to this.” Pinching herself she realizes that she is in fact not dreaming. Sighing she looks around and discovers that she is no longer in the woods, but instead a meadow filled with the strange creatures called digimon and an ocean in the distance.
Suddenly there is a ruckus in the distance beyond a small rise. Another loud sound is heard, like a tree being struck a crushing blow, and something is sent flying into the air. After rising high up into the air whatever was sent flying comes crashing down just a few passes away.
“Dracomon!” Cherrymon exclaims, and runs over to the digimon which was the thing sent flying. Curious Macaria follows to see who this ‘Dracomon’ is. Upon reaching the hole that Dracomon had created she peers inside. There she sees a small dragon looking creature that is a bluish color with small red wings. The creature, Dracomon, shakes its head and looks up at Cherrymon and Macaria.
“What’s a human doing here!? Never mind, forget it. You all have to get away from here. Astamon sent his lackeys again to try and force us out of this zone. I’ll hold them off while you guys find a safe place to hide. Take that human with you until we can safely return it home.” Dracomon says as he shakily gets up and begins to climb out of the hole he made. As he is climbing out a figure flies up into the sky and another digimon lands on the ground before them. “Run!” He orders as he releases a fiery breath against this new digimon. When the flames disperse Macaria sees that the new digimon doesn’t even have a scratch on it.
Before them stands a large wolf like creature with bright red fur, and vicious purple claws. It grins wickedly upon seeing all the baby digimon.
“So, your little friends are here huh? I wonder how good they’ll taste!” It says before taking a swipe at Dracomon, knocking him out of the way.
“Everyone! Head towards the sea! Fangmon will be able to see us, but it will be harder for him to attack us!” Cherrymon orders the baby digimon. As the other digimon run for cover in the opposite direction that the wolf like digimon, Fangmon, came from, Macaria continues to watch the fight between Dracomon and Fangmon. Dracomon once more struggles to get up, jumping at Fnagmon to bite down onto one of Fangmon’s rear legs. Screaming in pain Fangmon thrashes his leg about in an attempt to make Dracomon release his grip.
“Come on human! You have to find cover too!” Cherrymon yells to Macaria as she begins to follow, but stops when she looks over her shouldering to see Dracomon flung off from Fnagmon’s thrashing. Smirking, Fangmon turns to Dracomon and stomps down with a foreleg onto him. Clenching her fists, Macaria shakes angrily; oblivious to the fact that Cherrymon was trying to now pull her in the direction that the digimon were going.
“I’m not going to sit here and watch as someone gets bullied around by some punk digimon that thinks he is better than everyone else!” She exclaims as she runs towards Fangmon.
“Wait! Human!” Macaria ignores Cherrymon’s calls for her and continues running. Upon reaching Fangmon he turns to look at her and laughs.
“What’s a pathetic human like you doing here, hm? Have you come to be my next meal?” He asks mockingly. Noticing some palm-sized rocks scattered about on the ground Macaria grabs some and begins throwing them at Fangmon. This only causes him to become aggravated, and lash out at Macaria with one of his paws. The attack sends her back a few yards, causing her to obtain some bruises and small cuts. Dracomon jumps in the way as Fangmon goes to take another swing, drawing Fangmon’s attention back to him. Battered and bruised Macaria stands and watches as Dracomon is once again knocked to the ground. Fangmon smiles wickedly as he raises his foreleg once again to crush Dracomon.
“NO!” Screaming to try and stop the attack, everything around her freezes, even the battle before her. “What the? What just happened?”
“Please enter password. Code required to unlock.” A mechanical voice says from her pocket. Pulling out the cell phone looking device that she found in the woods, Macaria looks at it. Sure enough the message it just said she could see on the screen. The wall paper for the ‘cell phone’ is orange with what appears to be a sun symbol in red as the background. Before the device had looked like a regular metallic colored cell phone, but now was fiery orange in color.
“Please enter password. Code required to unlock.” Perplexed, Macaria doesn’t know what to do. The world around her seems to have frozen, no one was moving, and no sounds could be heard.
“Whatever, I’ll just punch something in.” Hitting the buttons, Macaria punches in one of her favorite English word that her dad had taught her. As she types the word ‘courage’ appears, then she hits enter. The device begins to glow a bright red-orange color as time resumes. Looking back to the fight taking place Macaria sees a glowing sphere of red-orange data strands surround Dracomon. The sphere then bursts to reveal a new digimon, this one being similar to Dracomon. Its skin is blue in color with spiky red horns, a red spike on its snout and now the same size as Fangmon.
“What? How did I digivolve?” The new digimon asks aloud. Fangmon cringes back upon seeing the new digimon, and then looks over to Macaria. Seeing the glowing device in her hand he howls in rage and lunges at her. Seeing what he planned the new digimon jumps in the way, grabbing Fangmon’s forelegs.
“What happened to that digimon called Dracomon!? I had screamed no, and then the world went funny. This stupid phone started being weird and once I typed something in he disappears!” She looks around franticly, still unable to see him.
“Hey human! I’m right here, can’t you see?” The new digimon calls to Macaria while trying to hold Fangmon back.
“What do you want? I’m looking for Dracomon!” She turns to glare at the new digimon while looking for Dracomon.
“I was Dracomon! I digivolved into Coredramon. And from Fangmon’s reaction to seeing you, you must have been the one to cause me to digivolve.” Coredramon explains to her while backing up to avoid being bitten by Fangmon.
“I did what?” Turning around she sees Fangmon sent flying with a swipe from Coredramon’s tail. Turning to face her he grins.
“I’m saying that whatever you did caused me to digivolve and become strong enough to fight Fangmon. Thanks to you I can beat him now!” Turning back to the fight, he faces off against Fangmon once more. Now looking nervous, Fangmon lunges at Coredramon, who dodges the attacks.
“Alright then. GO COREDRAMON! Hit him where it counts!” Macaria cheers, causing the device to glow even more brightly, seemingly to giving Coredramon more power.
“Blue Flare Breath!” Coredramon calls out as raging blue flames spew forth from his mouth and begin consuming Fangmon. Screaming in pain Fangmon falls to the ground panting and unable to stand.
“Hahaha ha…This might be the end for me but you can’t stop Astamon from ruling all of the digital world!” Fangmon exclaims before he bursts into bits of data and is scattered in the wind. The device Macaria is holding begins to dim, and Coredramon begins to glow. When the light from the device vanishes Coredramon stops glowing, revealing Dracomon.
“Nice one human!” Dracomon exclaims, dashing towards Macaria with a grin. “Thanks to you we weren’t kicked out of our home. What’s your name?” Unable to comprehend what had just happened, Macaria could only stare at Dracomon. Shaking her head rigorously, Macaria returns to her normal fiery self.
“I’m Macaria, and I’m a girl. Humans have genders you know.” She reprimands him; grabbing her hand Dracomon shakes it.
“Well then, greetings Macaria-chan and welcome to the digital world! I take it we can be friends now since you helped me to beat Fangmon, though I have yet to figure out how.” All Macaria can do is laugh softly at this before collapsing to the ground. As she falls she once again looses consciousness.
* * * * *
An alarm clock goes off in a teenage girl’s bedroom that has band posters and posters of models covering the walls. A pale, slim hand reaches out from under the blanket, clumsily trying to turn off the alarm. Finally it turns off the alarm and the blanket is thrown off the still sleepy girl. With a disheveled head of wavy reddish brown hair and sea green eyes, the girl yawns loudly while scratching her head. Looking around confused she sees that she is in her room. Shrugging her shoulders she gets up out of bed.
“Macaria-chan! Breakfast is ready!” A motherly voice calls up to the girl.
“I’ll be right down mom!” Macaria calls back and scratches her head again. “I must have been dreaming.” She mumbles to herself as she heads out of her room. As the rays of the rising sun enter her room the light bounces off of a cell phone that is fiery orange in color.
Additional Information:
Spoiler
Here are some images so you guys can have a better idea of what some of the digimon look like. I also put Astamon’s image in even though I didn’t get around to describing him since he doesn’t appear in the story. All characters, except for Macaria and her family, were not created by me and all rights to the character, and the ‘sun symbol,’ which is the crest of courage, goes to Akiyoshi Hongo, the original creator of the digimon concept and all corporations owning the franchise.
Nyaromon:
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Cherrymon:
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Dracomon:
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Coredramon:
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Fangmon:
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Astamon:
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Sun Symbol [ aka Crest of Courage]:
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All digimon are from the Digimon Wiki site, which has records of digimon that I didn't know about and helped me in choosing the digimon to use in the story. http://digimon.wikia.com/wiki/Digimon_Wiki
Device design:
The device mentioned in the story resembles a cell phone like this, just without the logos on it. [Note: I thought up what it should look like without even looking at cell phone images, this one just happened to look like how I wanted the device to so I am using it as an example].
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As you read this story you may have wondered what “-chan” was doing after Macaria’s name. In the Japanese culture they have a part of their language that is known as honorifics, which are used when addressing a person. Some example are “-chan” for friends that are girls, “-kun” for friends that are boys, “-onee” for an older sister or someone who looks like an older sister, and “-onii” which is for older brother or someone who looks like an older brother. These are just some of the honorifics, so please don’t get mad if I didn’t use all of them in the story, I only used what I thought would be appropriate. Also you have seen the say “Itadakimasu,” which is a ritualistic saying said before meals similar to “Bon apetit.” It basically means “thank you for this meal” but is not directed at any one person, but instead just being thankful to have the food that they have. You can read more into this at the following link.
http://www.alientimes.org/Main/Itadakim ... orThisMeal
I'm too tired right now to place spaces between the paragraphs, so you you guys want to you can, but I have studying and stuff that I need to do... :sleep:
edit: I forgot to mention that it's the "Oh! Shiny" prompt...
Last edited by ML1201 on February 28th, 2011, 9:53:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by moondragon »

Kestrad wrote:
moondragon wrote:
Kestrad wrote:Moondragon, perhaps you didn't understand the prompt. It's supposed to be about the death (or perhaps the character doesn't actually die) of an infinitely old (or at least very old) being. Your story clearly states that the character is a young Kitsune.
Oh, i see now. might i be aloud to change it a bit? XD
Of course!
Thanks I will a little bit later.
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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Android »

It's the last day! Oh, zeh suspense! D:
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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Lunaheart »

I have waited to post my story till this day so that I know what I am up agianst.

Edit: Here it is!

I did Prompt Three: Ooh, Shiny!

The Keeper's Book, Part 1
Spoiler
It was a tradition for a full grown white wolf of the pack to climb the rock pyramid in the middle of Pyramid Lake. But the white wolf must make the climb in the dead of winter and in the most ferocious storm. If the wolf survived the climb to the top, they had to make a small offering of blood to the Mirror, the one Mirror with the etching of the wolf head and the raven. The Mirror that stands at the top of the massive rock. By cutting the pad of the paw, you would lay the blood on the snow that covered the ground around the Mirror.

The Mirror is what brought our kind of wolves to Earth. We come from a different world through the Mirror. By using our magic, the white wolves of our world came to Earth through the Mirror. The youngest of the white wolves came to Earth to escape our war. They were told to keep our magic safe, and keep it in our blood. Once the young generation of white wolves made the journey through the Mirror, the High Alphas sealed it. No one knows how they sealed. It is one of the many mysteries about the Mirror.

The white wolves have prospered. The alpha animal of this world, the humans, call us white Grey Wolves. As long as we look and act like this world’s wolves, that is okay for us. But this world’s wolves do know what we are: they call us Mirror Wolves. They know of our powers and origin. But they don’t know everything and we like to keep it that way.

Lyrina was the first of the Season of the Mirror to make the journey. The storm was the worst and the winds could be felt all the way back to base. It was late September and this high in the mountains where we live we could sense the Mirror waiting for us. Lyrina, one of the Alpha wolves’ daughters, was prepared for the journey. She was given the Mirror’s Necklace, thick chain with a silver metal disk with a raven carved into it. This is the Alpha’s Insignia. She was a quiet wolf with violet eyes and raven black nails. She had the confidence level beyond everyone else’s. She was well liked and surely the next alpha of the pack.

Early the morning of the start of the Season of the Mirror, she set out with the blessings of the pack. She ran for days across the snowy mountains. When she became weary, she slowed to a mild jog. Her magic kept her tiring out quickly. Finally, after a week of traveling across the mountains, she came to a ledge in which she could see across the planes to Pyramid Lake. There, she rested for a full twenty-four hours.

Well rested and confident, Lyrina set off for the lake.

She finally reached the rocky shore at sun high. She took a breather before setting out to cross the half frozen lake. She sniffed the air and scented the storm that would come in an hour or so. She knew that starting the journey across the thin ice would be the most dangerous task she has ever done.

Lyrina placed her paw gently onto the thin ice. It felt firm enough, and she couldn’t see any moving water. She continued some ways out before the small creaking started. With every step the ice held her life. She looked down once and saw what she feared most: the rushing water underneath the thin ice. Lyrina could feel herself shake. She needed to pass this; she needed to get to the Mirror. The wind picked up as she set off once more. At the middle of the frozen lake, she saw the first crack. She had wandered carelessly onto the most precautious part of the ice. She scanned the ice around her and found a short way out. She quickly made her way out of the danger zone and continued on toward the Mirror.

Lyrina picked up the pace as the storm came about her. Visibility diminished dramatically to only a foot. Lyrina brought forth her magic and saw the way through to the lake. The danger zones on the ice now showed a light blue in her vision. She wagged her tail for she knew that she could now go at a greater speed than before. Lyrina ran for the shore, cutting the close corners and avoiding the danger zones.

She made it to the shore just as the storm reached its peak. She sniffed the air and could tell that the storm would stay this way for her journey home. Lyrina walked behind one of the massive rocks and into a hidden cave. She then entered the passageway to the temple.

Lyrina continued to walk for at least fifteen minutes when she emerged into a massive circular cavern.

The walls were all smooth, no chips, and no points. The floor was tile made of stone. Torches in the shape of a wolf’s head lit the cavern. Branching off to the sides were three hallways. Above the portals were massive arches made of glory and beauty. The finely intricate vine and wolf patters of the arches were beyond the work of even the most skilled human hands. This is the temple that had only been built two centuries ago by the work of the griffins and elves from Lyrina’s world. The air was clean and crisp without dust or dirt. On the air the faint scent of a dark flower could be scented. It was this scent that Lyrina distinguished above all others. She followed it through the middle portal and was lead to stairs.

As Lyrina climbed the stairs, the scent of the dark flower grew stronger. After what seemed like hours of climbing, she came to the top of the stairs. Lyrina emerged onto the top of the pyramid rock. She walked up some more stairs and onto the first of the two enormous circular platforms, hidden behind rocky walls. She looked at the second platform that held the Mirror. The scent of the dark flower grew strong here.

This was strange because the dark flower is from her world beyond the Mirror. Lyrina continued up to the Mirror and yelped in shock. Below the glowing etched Mirror laid a dark flower, one in full bloom. The metal disk around her neck glowed bright along with the Mirror and the dark flower.

The etchings grew even brighter. “Make the sacrifice!” a voice whispered on the air.

Terrified that the voice belonged to a spirit long passed, Lyrina tore open her pad on her left paw and let her blood drip onto the flower. A shriek pierced the wind as the Mirror turned a dark color. Lyrina gazed into the Mirror and saw the darker side of her world, the one that held the wolves of dark magic. A black wolf with blue eyes stared back at her. She growled and jumped into the Mirror. The Mirror glowed bright as the dark flower coated in Lyrina’s blood changed from the flower to the black wolf from the other side of the Mirror.

The glow from the Mirror died. Before Lyrina stood a black wolf radiating in dark magic. “Hello, Lyrina,” the wolf growled.

Lyrina pulled herself together as she felt her magic boil up inside her at the sight of her own worst enemy. “Who are you?” she growled.

The wolf chuckled. “I’m Jacara, and you are our subject to our dark magic!”

Jacara tilted her head to the storming sky and let out an unearthly howl. Dark magic flowed about her. Lyrina took up the howl in an unearthly wolf scream. Pain coated her eyes and her coat began to change from white to black and back again like her magic couldn’t decide which side it wanted to be on. The two wolves continued the unearthly howls for hours as pain and magic poured into Lyrina.

Finally, the howl died and Jacara slowly began to fade away. Lyrina collapsed to the ground. “You are now a carrier of the dark magic,” Jacara said before she completely disappeared.

Lyrina looked no different accept her eye were now sky blue. The Mirror began to glow once more before it showed two images: a white wolf with violet eyes on the left and a black wolf with red eyes on the right. They stood facing each other. Lyrina knew she was viewing a descendant of hers with the white magic and the dark magic.

This, is the prophecy foretold by the Mirror of our world.

Looking for Donis on my wishlist. See my profile for details on what I have to offer.
Sarge is one of my Keep Guardians along with Durakro.

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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by mzenun »

Oh! The last day! So epic! I hope I win! I hope I win! I hope I win! :t-dance: :t-xD: :t-sweat:
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Amazing Art by Hanako!

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Thanks SO much, Merkwerkee, for the tienko gift! :t-swoon:

School is before Magistream:(

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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Phenora »

I can't wait to see the winners! Good luck to all who entered!
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“And for another, real writing is a question of staring into space and waiting for the right ideas.” Fenoglio, author of Inkheart in Cornelia Funke's Ink Trilogy. Quote from the last book, Inkdeath



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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Mathcat »

Here I am, sneaking an entry in at almost the last minute.

Prompt 3 - Ooh, Shiny
Spoiler
One Winter’s Afternoon

A/N: This story involves several of my Dragon Cave characters (and may or may not wind up being AU, for anyone who might have read my dragon descriptions). Dragon Cave does not belong to me – I’ve just been enjoying having my own tiny corner of the sandbox to play in. Dragon Cave belongs to T.J., while the various dragon breeds belong to their respective spriters.

Healer Markal regarded his patient with satisfaction. He’d thought the white dragon Kazara had been placing entirely too much faith in his abilities when she’d brought Curnsaro to him a month ago, but the man was making a fine recovery (though far from completely recovered, of course). “Now, I imagine you’re getting tired of these four walls. I doubt Kazara would object if I took you out for a walk – not for too long, though.” Curnsaro didn’t speak – he rarely did – but the wistful look on his face was answer enough.

Despite all the warm clothing he’d forced Curnsaro to wear, Markal still added a warning as they stepped out of the healer’s cottage. “Now, if you start getting chilled or tired, let me know, and we’ll head back. You know Kazara will be furious if anything happens to you – probably give me to her trainees for healing practice.” He’d lost his patient’s attention almost immediately, though, as Curnsaro was now staring up at the sky as if he’d never seen snow before – which, Markal reminded himself, he probably hadn’t, at least not for many years. Who knew how long ago Olinbar had kidnapped Curnsaro and imprisoned him in that cave, binding him to the spells that kept the black dragon’s weyr hidden from outsiders. Curnsaro was seemingly unaffected by the cold, but Markal was starting to shiver – best to get his patient moving.

Markal and Curnsaro were almost the only people out, since everyone with any sense was spending the day inside where it was warm, but there was still plenty to catch Curnsaro’s attention – icicles, snow on cottage roofs, and so forth – though he never stopped to look at any one thing for very long. By the time they reached the edge of the village, Markal was starting to feel more than a little out of breath, but Curnsaro was still as fresh as when they started – clearly possessed of a remarkable stamina, for all that he still looked half-starved.

Markal could hear shouts in the distance – a snowball fight, he suspected. From the sound of it, some of the children had roped both Kaliret and Pydawvin into the game, and it would be good for Curnsaro to meet some friendly dragons. “Come on – I’ve had half the village lining up to try to meet you. At least let me introduce you to some of the children, and our resident magi dragons.”

Curnsaro followed along, but stopped abruptly as soon as he got a good look at the snowball fight, and Markal suddenly realized how it must look to him – two magi dragons menacing a group of helpless children. “No, it’s not like that at all. The dragons are the ones you should be feeling sorry for. They’ve sworn not to use magic, and they make such good targets – I’ll probably be treating one or both of them for frostbite before spring.”

His patient was still gazing fixedly at the snowball fight, though, but finally spoke, his voice shaking. “Here, in the shadow of Highrock Weyr, in one of the Hundred Cities. To see this, when Olinbar…”

Curnsaro trailed off, and Markal looked at him, bewildered. The Dragonbane Mountains – where Olinbar had his weyr – were only barely visible from the village, and plenty of the Hundred Cities had resident dragons. As for dragons and humans living peacefully together, well, this humble village could hardly complete with places like Dragontown or even Goldenfield Village. “Well. Maybe you’ve had enough excitement for one day – let’s get you back inside. Plenty of time to meet everyone later.” He suspected his patient was – at last – starting to tire.

Markal took a couple of paces back toward the village, realized Curnsaro wasn’t following, and turned back in time to see him double over. About to call Pydawvin and Kaliret over, Markal instead watched in astonishment as Curnsaro’s spell took effect. He’d been treating a dragon all this time, then – a magi dragon, from the looks of it, though Curnsaro was more of a sickly yellow than the vibrant orange of a healthy male. So, Olinbar had been desperate enough to bind one of his own kind to the shielding spells. Some of Curnsaro’s odder comments and reactions over the past few weeks suddenly made more sense – he probably been bound to the cave as a young hatchling – as did his response to the game.

Curnsaro turned to look at Markal, clearly seeing – and understanding – the horror Markal was feeling. “Over and done with,” he said. “The weyr is empty, the threat gone, we all begin anew – even Olinbar, if he so chooses. Generations of spells to call on and a world to see, now. Time and freedom to do so, come spring. And a place to return to, I think.” Markal nodded. “Then, new friends await.” Winking at Markal, he scooped up a pile of snow with his claws and used magic to send it toward the snowball fight. “Let’s join the game.”
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Still on AO3 as Mathcat2 - stories for Magistream, Dragon Cave, Forest of Mirrors, and Jelle's Marble Runs, plus original fiction. New stories every Tuesday during November 2024.

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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Kestrad »

:t-woo: Lots of entries! I'll start putting them all up soon. Just over an hour left to submit, everyone!
Kestrad has been eaten by life. She'll probably pop back in occasionally.
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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Dragons »

I am almost done with my entry to Prompt 2, I am just making minor changes.

EDIT: The entry is on another post, sorry for the double post.
Last edited by Dragons on February 28th, 2011, 11:25:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Writing Contest! [Open]

Post by Dragons »

Prompt 2:
Fiery Memory
Spoiler
A girl that look only a decade and eight years into her life was laying sprawled out on top of a mattress, her eyes staring blank at the ceiling. One may think she was dead, the way her thin chest barely rose and the way her eyes never closed. The clock on the wall was the only sound in the silent room. In honest truth, the girl was eons old, being the daughter of a god allowed her to stay young and beautiful. Her auburn locks never turned to grey, and her smooth skin never wrinkled, and her bones never grew brittle.

But her life crashed not soon after turning a few decades old, her once dashing knight of a husband now gone, her own young looked many years older than her, even her grandkids were older in looks. She watched as her family died generation by generation. She kept with them by a system. Only one member at a time knew exactly who she was. She was the friendly neighbor, or the family friend to the rest. It was the only thing that kept her sane.

Now, she has grown from them, however. She rarely contacts anyone outside of her home anymore, spending her days alone, have long ago lost her grip on reality. She lost her grip not too long after World War II. It was the last time she had seen her family, and the last she had seen any human.

She had seen so many wars, so much blood-spilling, so much lost. She had seen all of Earth’s problems, faults, cracks, all of man’s mistakes. The last war drove her out of her mind. She plead to the gods for many night, many days, for some salvation, a way out of this world, into her world of isolation she lives in now. But she remembers none of it now. It was all just a blur. It was like living with amnesia, she knew what she was, but not who she was. She did not remember how to even speak. She simply didn’t live anymore, just existed. A simple being with no set goal to drive her forward, a empty shell that was once a living being.

The girl roused from her position on the bed, her body moving swiftly in the normal routine. She cleaned herself, got dressed, then wandered about in her own little world. But nothing about this day was ordinary.

The first thing she noticed was that is was still early outside, her house cloaked in darkness. A small flame trickled from her fingers into the palm of her hand, allowing her to move clearly. She lights a candle and curls up in a chair, waiting for the sun to break dawn. Her mind is clouded with an image. The image of a man, who she could not recall much about, but his image made her heart swell, and a knot build in her throat as she choked back tears provoked from a deep memory that was long forgotten.

The man was tall and muscular, his hair was shaggy and brown, his eyes were a dark brown, to her deep green. In the image he was smiling a big, wide white smile. His eyes were crinkled up like he was laughing, and she could hear the laugh, it made her heart jump. She wasn't sure why, or who he was, but she could feel a longing. She had forgotten the man that had given and stolen her love, causing her to not love another. This was her knight husband, Sir Jacob.

She tried to shake the image out of her head, dismissing the man as a fantasy, or a reminder of a past life, nothing she could get again. She had no memories, she was almost like a new picture painted recently. She had a past, one not know, she knew what she was, who she was. She was Claire, a empty shell, basically.

A sound suddenly ripped from her throat, her eyes became blurred and stung. The water fell in warm rivers down her face and dripped down her chin. A dog, one awoken by its master's sobs came to comfort the age-old woman. She buried her face the soft brown fur as the tears came. She didn't move once she had stopped either. She sat there with the dog in her arms, taking in its earthy smell. "I want to mortal again..." She began wept quietly again, squeezing the last few drops from her eyes, "I want to see him again..." She slowly got up, her scarlet robe falling in folds on the floor, then lead the dog outside. Once there, she took deep gasps of cold morning air, the freshness of her isolated paradise calming her down, and drying the tears.

The rising sun's tongue of light had grown since the woman had woken. She gazed over the nearby woods, her mind lost. The air was warming before she had woken from her trance. She was woken by the sound of track on horses, and the bays from their mauls, and the trot of their hooves on the sandy shore. Her green eyes gazed at the horses, three of them, as the approached.

There was a bay, it's mane flowing in the wind and it's hooves trotting through the sea's froth, it's legs darken with icy water that had splashed up as it galloped. Its rider was clad in a shirt of white cotton and jeans of denim. He had a hat pulled over his golden locks. Another was huge horse that was dappled gray, its spots were more of a silver color, as was it's flowing mane that had sun bounce off it like silk. Its rider was dressed like a god. Flowing behind him was a silk robe, and he tanned skin and thick beard. The third and final horse was a smoky cream Tobiano, with fur that feather around its muscled leg. It seemed to be a Clydesdale, with its large muscled body and flowing mane. Its rider was a woman who had her blonde hair curled and placed atop her head. She seemed pretty enough to be a goddess, with her flowing dress that still hugged her figure as she side-saddled the large horse. The dog whined and hid behind his master's legs. The horses trotted right up to her porch, where each rider dismounted one by one.

The man with the thick beard came to her first, followed by the lady who carried her dress in her arms, than the blonde cowboy. "Claire, I am a god's messenger, and I was sent to give you options." The woman stepped forward, smiling which crinkled the corners of her deep blue eyes. "I am actually here to do that. Clarie, you have lived alone for so long, I wanted to see if it was suitable for you. you can stay here, or you can go to living world. If you find none of those suitable, you can retire to afterlife." She paused and waited for the cowboy the finish climbing the steps. "This is your last direct relative, although he will soon be having another, and you may go home with him, and live as a mortal in your present 'frozen' age, 18." The man took of his hat and smiled at the girl, his hair actually a shade of strawberry blonde. "I am so glad to meet, you. I have heard so much of you, I hoped you might come with me, but this is your choice." The man with the beard stepped in again. "if you choose to end you life, you will regain your memories from your first lifetime, and you will be reunited with lost ones. We will give you time to think." As he said that, he went to tie up the horses.

The image of the mysterious man flashed in her mind. The man who made her heart jump. She then thought of this isolation yet beauty of this place. She shuddered and shook her head, canceling that out. She thought of the outside world, almost every memory erased of it, those not were horrible.
"Sir-" Her voice cracked as she tried to struggle out that word, remembering a few words.
"Please call me Micheal." The cowboy smiled at her.
"Micheal, can you tell me of the outside world, it has been so long seen I last lived in it." The woman's hand fell to rub the dog's head as she waited for the man's answer, her voice hoarse and her throat sore from not being used. Micheal's eyes clouded slightly. "It is a beauty, really, 'though we are going through a tough time. Know as the great depression III. I live on a little farm with many Beauts like those three horses over there," he nodded toward the equines, "along with cows, sheep, goats, and chickens. I am soon to have a little one in the house, so the house is a bit crowed, but I have a might large 'mount of land, but you would have to work hard to grow. A war is goin' on, too. Bit too close to home if you ask me, so if you come, you may have to help take care of wounded soldiers."

The woman shuddered. Blood, she could not deal with that again. She still could remember the scarlet liquid. "Sir.. Messenger, sir, can you give me a memory, of two?" Claire asked, hoping to find out about the mysterious man and the outside world. The messenger nodded and came, and before she could ask for certain ones, he touched her forehead and she was taken away.

It was a starry night, the girl was young, her bright red curls pulled up. The knight, much younger than in the image was sitting next to her in long flowing grass. They were laughing for a few moments before Claire could realize what they were saying. "Clarry," The young knight started," I need to tell you more about me. Would you like to know?" The young girl nodded, glancing at him with youthful eyes. "I was born without a father, and my mother died soon after, so I lived alone for a long while before moving into the castle, where I became a knight to pay back the king for his help. You asked why I had joined at such a young age, and that is why, to pay back the king." He glanced down at his hands. "Jake, what was your mother like? Do you remember?" Claire asked, her hand moving over his. He nodded. " She was fair, with long black hair like silk. She had blue eyes like the waters of this lake, and she was caring as a mother could be, and she had a compassion for animals. She was a great mother, and taught me well.. she was a hard-worker, working two jobs to support us... She sowed dresses, then cleaned peasant's rugs. She always came home exhausted but she would always tell me a story before she put me too bed... She died of a terrible illness when I was six..." A tear sparkled in the starlight as it fell from his thick eyelashes. "Oh, it is okay.. Cheer up." Clarie tried to comfort the boy, by which she decided to move closer to. They gazed into each others eyes, and like magnets, their lips were drawn together. The stars seemed to dance and lighting bugs began to surround them in their deep kiss, both lost from reality.

Claire's heart began to beat quickly as she remembered that day, and who Jacob was. "Jakie..." She muttered quietly, a tear slipping from her eye. She shook her head, her mind made up. "Micheal, i hope you understand, but I have been away from my love for too long. Sir, messenger, sir, I would like to retire to the afterlife, to be with my love, my Jakie." The man nodded. He seemed strangely speechless now. He placed his hand on her forehead instead of talking.

Her mind was racing as memories of her parents, Jakie, his death, the kingdom, her kids, every little part of her first lifetime, even the deal she made to be immortal. Her eyes were lead away as a misty cloud appeared near by, almost like a doorway and steps. She watched with teary eyes as Sir Jacob appeared in the doorway. His eyes filled with love, and his chin covered in stubble. Without even waiting for someone to tell her what to do, she began to run toward her smiling knight's open arms. She climbed the short steps and flung herself to the man, her look gaining quickly seven years to match his age, her hair an auburn color now as the two twirled in a tight hug. Clarie heart was filled with love and longing that was filled. "I love you." She uttered to the man as the people and the isolated paradise disappeared as the misty door floated away, carrying one last image of the two kissing.
Yes! Man, I need to stop procrastinating.

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