Hello my little leaves, it has been some time! Below, you will find an excerpt of my work in progress. The piece is epic fantasy and much is still needed, but I thought I would share this with you. This is the first time that I have shared WITH ANYONE a part of my dream; to one day call myself a fully-fledged author. It has been a long time since I have shared my fictious work with the world, so please be kind. That said, a sprinkling of constructive criticism is welcome. I know there may be some, as I, myself, believe it is unpolished and far from complete. Please let me know your thoughts and also please check out my new YouTube channel!
(Content stealers – please be aware that all contents of this blog, including the excerpt below is protected by Copyright Law.)
Pale fingertips gently brushed the leaves and the tall pink flowers of Godwinscroft Forest, as two towering figures wove in between the flora that grew underfoot, strategically placing bare foot after foot, so as not to disturb the life that dwelled within. The forest was still, apart from a light breeze which carried the whispers of nature around the expanse of life that grew and flourished, surrounding Godwinsmont, the tallest peak this side of Aduron. Godwinsmont rose so high that the rose-coloured mists of the eastern sky obscured the peak from view of even the airborne. The pair in white drifted through the lowest canopy in silence, not a stir, nor cracked twig was present, and no bud was trampled underfoot. Both had skin that was fair as ice and hair as bright as snow, yet an aura of warmth surrounded them. Both were dressed in clean, white cloaks, embroidered with white gold abreast that glittered like diamonds, when the latter-day sun filtered through the leaves above to gaze upon the visitors below. Though hooded, all who dwelled within the kingdom of Aduron would know beneath there lied hair equally as fair, ears that pointed to the heavens and eyes the colour of the Lapis sky above. However, few had themselves gazed upon these rare beings, for these were Rowanfolk. They made their way east towards the village of Wick that laid at the edge of the forest. They remained close; the young Prince Hanyl ahead and his Lady, Kori, following suit behind. As gentle as they were underfoot, they had urgent business ahead. As they reached a tree that obscured their path, he held out a hand, to which Kori took fondly. He suddenly grabbed her and playfully hoisted her over, before himself, despite knowing his Lady needed no aid, for she was as strong as fierce as he, when the time came. She laughed anyway and he smiled lovingly, for that is how they had been since he had laid eyes on her 400 years ago.
The other side of the mountain another woman with wild curls, deeper skin and dressed in what could only be compared to burlap, looked up from the creature she was nursing below. The forest-dweller felt a light laugh ripple through the leaves, travelling through the wind, warming the very air of the forest, for the Forest spoke to her and she back to it. She stood for a moment, the woman who appeared as untamed as the woods closed her eyes and felt her senses meet with the life that surrounded her and her woodland home. At once, she became interlinked with every droplet of dew running down the twisted tree barks, every whisper of ivy that climbed every branch, every miniscule beating heart of the thimblebirds that darted between the yellow wisteria that cultivated the area and every rustle, every breath, that mother nature inhaled. She at once saw white cloaks being reflected in the water of the Lifepond two days ago, of pale feet brushing through the light grass two minutes ago and of laughter radiating through the air not two seconds ago. She felt the warmth of the Rowanfolk reach her and she relaxed. She knelt back down to tend to the alska at her feet, at once dismissing any notion of danger and knowing that there would be no darkness lurking through the depths of Godwinscroft today. However, the red alska at her feet had taken a nasty tumble into a ten-foot wormhole this morn and had sustained minor injuries to its leg. It kicked its hooves and butted its two decorative antlers that fanned into a heart-shape above its head. It was a harmless, gentle creature and she rubbed its striped fur to soothe it, weaving her hand through the thick, fluffy, cream gorget patch that spread down the alska’s throat, neck and underbelly. It whined one last time and settled down as she began to focus, running her hands gently over the creature, homing in over the injured leg, her palms barely brushing the creature’s soft coat. The wind picked up and she inhaled deeply. A flash of light and she collapsed, condensation suddenly populating her brow. It had been a long time since she had performed such magic and it had exhausted her. She would have to spend all the weeks to come training if she was going to be ready for what was to come. The alska let out a snort and jumped to its feet, gaily galloping off into the trees.
When she awoke, dark had settled and the fireflies were out, glowing in the yellows, blues and greens that she loved. She looked out at her forest fondly, picked up the jaida fruit husk bowl and medicinal herbs at her feet, then carried them inside. She had lived alone in the forest as Guardian for as long as she could remember, only ever having occasion to meet with those travellers who had fallen into wormholes or had mistaken kiiberry for faiiberry, which was surprisingly easy to do if you hadn’t lived in the forest your entire life. Nevertheless, these meetings were often far and few between. She did not mind, for it was her forest and was where she longed to be. She felt like she was making a difference here and protecting the last true forest of Aduron, the only woodland that had not been weakened and poisoned by the darkness that had begun to sweep over the Old World and the New. As Guardian of Godwinscroft of Aduron of the New World, she felt honoured. Ingrained inside her was a deep, resounding duty to the forest, its inhabitants and natural magics, but she also was in charge of protecting the nearby town of Wick and Montcrest, a hamlet of miners high up on the Mountain, from any evils that may stray in from the Stanpit Marshes to the west. Although, she had not seen such evil step foot into her forest, as of yet and was half inclined to believe the evil was hearsay, if it had not been for the whispers from the birds that flew west and of the warning creaks of the trees that grew closest to the westward wetland expanse. The Forest revealed the truth of such things, whispering warnings only she could hear. She was also Warden of The Light, meaning that, if the darkness did begin to creep into the forest or evil was sensed in between the oaks and sycamores, or if she spotted the warden light of Maraon in the distance, she was to, at once, set ablaze the beacon. The blaze would be seen for miles and miles. It would warn not only the dwellers within and around the forest, but the Capital Izurii and other dwellings throughout the New World, foretelling that the dark days were upon us at last.
As the forest-dweller put away her herbs, in her small dwelling made out of the roots of a large goldwin tree, she was blissfully unaware of the black smoke that began to swirl over the reeds, pools and thick grey mud of the marshes and wetlands. An alska that strayed too far from the forest into the wetlands, in search of the acorns that had blown there, nibbled blissfully, ignorant to the blackness that oozed closer. By the time that the alska looked up, it was too late; the mist had enveloped it, tearing at its flesh. It squealed and bucked, but was, within mere seconds, swallowed and devoured by the darkness. In a house under a tree, a bowl made from leaves, filled with faiiberries, fell through the air, dropped by a dark, juice-stained hand. The world went still. Her eyes misted over with grey, as she saw the mist and felt the anguish of the stray alska taking its last breath.
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