I wrote this when I was about nine or ten, and typed it in as it was on the written page as I think it has a certain power to it.
This short story was written for my A level coursework a couple of years ago. I like it partly because it gave me a very good mark and helped me to pass English and go on to university but also because it is so different to what I normally write. The title comes from the riddle of the sphinx 'What walks on four legs in the morning, two in the day and three at night?'.
Sagittia Barmishlawn, or just Sagi depending on how well you know her, is not your average medievel maiden. In fact she's far from those damsels in distress that you read about in other stories. She's many things but a princess or even a country girl is not one of them, despite the fact she may have started out like one. Okay so Sagittia started out as Sagittialaree Annyah Deenoca a quiet, simple country girl. I'd say that doesn't matter as much as what she turned out to be but it does. For what makes our present is our past and when those two combine we find our future... So this is Sagittia's past.
I did this one while pondering about how our children are growing up today, faced with pain, and reality, and wondered about the old A is for apple thing that taught them.
Inspired by an Evanescence song, this is one of my better pieces. Detailed beginning of Lir's story, and how even the jaded can sometimes believe.
And here we come to the crux of the matter. A few years have passed since the Barbarian Wars ravaged the lands of Tarnara. But a young orphan boy named Tarna--named for the great king who founded the land ages ago--has little thought for those terrible events. He dreams of adventure, but little suspects what destiny has in store for him.
I think this part is done now. Donovan is a character i made up...i would like to have the stories he is in on Elfwood...but things may get weird...um..unaccepiable...a mix of sci-fi, and fantasy...with horrish realistic aspects. The first line was inspired, by me coming to my granparents house after school (i was droped off there), and the 'second to the last inhabitant' died, a dog. You near grow up all your life somewhere, and every other time you visit somone dies, cat, cat, cat, grandma, dog, dog....and next?
A short story I wrote for english. It looks really REALLY short to me, when it's on the computer, but apparently I was lucky the english teacher read it, because it was over the 1 and 1/2 page limit. 'Cause I forgot to double-space. *blush* But I got an awsome score for it, and the english teacher even put it up on his wall. So that was really cool. I'm actually really quite pleased with this one.
In case you were wondering, this is a song (For want of anything else to post here). I wrote it for a story called 'The Hidden People', which I'm writing with a friend (Losttaliel's the finest elf I know ; p ). It is sung by a creature called Ruthless, who is of the species Ratakaija. The Ratakaija are a strange breed; not quite human, not quite animal. They are wild and mystical creatures, plucked from the milk of the earth, but having lived amongst the humans for so long, they have a certain humanity to them (as you'd expect). Ruthless is singing of a place where all Ratakaija love to sing of; the underground warren where he spent his first hours and days. This is a warm, dark, homely place for a Ratakaija to be. It is sung in true Ratakaijan ditty style.
It's kind of an allagory about imaginary friends and growing up I guess. I think maybe I should stop reflecting on my childhood, it depresses me. It started out with a picture I drew that I hope to someday scan and add to this story.
Part Four of Six in a spoke series. This is the tale of Priaytohr, a lonely guard who interupts the duelists, a mistake he will not make twice.
This is a short story I wrote a few years ago. It's not my typical style of writing, but it remains one of my favorite stories that I've written
At first, this poem was going to be about my RP character, Ivy-Kira. But...as I was writing it, the poem veered off course and is now about a child and her magical friend... the little bit of magic that gets us all through childhood and, believe it or not, through adulthood as well.
Here, we meet a small girl named Bronwyne Darke .. the very same that grows up into that famous mercenary loved or loathed by those that know her .. a short story
'Promise you won't hate me? Part of him shied from confiding in her, though he longed to release the thoughts that raged beneath the surface of his consciousness.' Turmoil of the soul and on the high seas.
This is a story about the life and times of a little guy named Obsidian .... enjoy