Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Empty Throne Re-Start

Ok, so here's the deal. I'm starting my story over. Didn't like the way it was going, so I decided to change a few things and really get started. And it is an allgory, so please tell me if you can figure that out. I want to make it obvious. Anyway, hope you like! =D

Chapter 1: Esidara

        It has often been said that it is the small things that make the greatest change, that have the greatest effect on the world. Weather it is a small act of kindness, or a small act of evil, they both have great effects. Some say that it is only the big things that matter, not the little ones. But it is my opinion that the small things tend to have the greater importance, though they might never be recognised. Or maybe it is a series of small events that lead to a great thing, or a great thing that leads to a very small end, or many great things coming to nothing, or many small things coming to nothing. Whatever the case, the tale I am about to begin starts with a very small things. Now you may argue that there is  no possible way that such a small thing as looking into a mirror can change the fate of the whole world, but it did. And perhaps you may say that there must have been other small things, and the looking into the mirror was just the final straw, but as far as my knowledge goes, it did indeed start with that small simple act. Racha, second in command to the King, looked into the mirror. His heart became proud at his beauty, for indeed there was none except the King who could rival him in beauty and grace. And as he looked into that mirror, his heart turned against the king. Why could he not be king? Certainly he should make a better king than the one who ruled now! And so his mind was swayed, and he began to look for ways to overthrow the king and take the throne.
        Now, if you want to understand this story, I strongly recommend paying close attention to this chapter. It might not be the most exciting, or the most thrilling, but it is this chapter that gives birth to all the rest, so bear with me. The Island of Esidara has been called the most beautiful place of all. It is a paradise, with mountains, valleys, gardens, meadows, forests, glades, and glens. There is nothing  evil or wrong in it. It is a place of tranquility and peace. No one who has been born there grows old.  They remain in youthfulness forever, at the height of strength. They are tall and strong people, and it takes much to defeat them. But they are not warlike, or at least, they were not warlike. It is ruled by a good King, and a kind King. He governs the island out of a fortress, the likes of which this world has ever seen. A vast army is under his command, to many, they say, to be counted.
There is only one who lived on that island that was not born there. His name is Dmaa. No one, except the king, knew where he had come from. One day he wasn’t there, and the next he was. But it was apparent that he was not like the others. He was different, special. The king raised him as his own, and the two were inseparable. They did everything together, and seldom were they seen apart.  But all this was the change when Racha decided to take over the kingdom.
He, being the cunning military leader that he was, was able to secretly persuade a third of the forces to come over to his side. And then was the harder task, working on Dmaa. But after hours and days of working on him, using lies and deceit, he was able to turn Dmaa against his king. Racha promised that Dmaa would rule the kingdom, intending only Dmaa’s demise. But Dmaa had never been lied to before. The king had only told him truth. A war raged in his mind. Never before had he known that someone could say something, and someone else could say exactly the opposite. And perhaps, but this I do not know for sure, he was a little reluctant when he joined Racha. But who can say? Perhaps he did regret it, and perhaps he did not.
Finally the day came when Racha decided to move openly against the king.  And it is here that I will take you, and perhaps this part will be a little more exciting than the last paragraph had been.


A young officer rushed through the corridor, the sounds of shouting and screaming echoing through the hall. He dashed inside a large oak door with brass hinges, and slammed it behind him. The noise vanished, and the silence that followed was deafening. He leaned against the door, panting. The room was in a dome shape, with a glass opulent at the  highest point. Moonlight streamed down, illuminating the large hickory desk that say directly beneath it. A large man with gold hair and deep, brown eyes say at the desk, charts and maps spread out before him. He was dressed in a long flowing robe with a silver breastplate over this and a long fur coat hanging down behind him. He looked up as the young officer entered the room. Then in a voice like sweet water falling over stones he asked, “Why Regnasem, what is it?”
“My king,” the young man gasped, “Racha is a traitor! Even now he besieges the castle walls, and a third of our men are with him! He says that he will make a better king!”
Slowly the king stood up. “It cannot be.“  He hung his head, sorrow racking his body.
“My king!” said Regnasem in a panicked voice, “you must hurry! He is threatening war! Talk to him, knock some sense into him!”
“You are right, Regnasem. I will talk to him.” He strode from the hall with the young officer at his heels. As he opened the door the sounds greeted him. It sounded as if the world had gone crazy! Every soldier had a least one comrade who had deserted him and become a traitor. They screamed at each other, bemoaning their betrayed trust. As the king stepped up on the wall silence fell. The moon shone down on him, glimmering off of his armor. “Racha!’ he called out into the dark, “is it true/ Have you betrayed us?”
Mad laughter rang out from the dark plain in front of the fortress. “I have! I have! And I will be king!”
“Racha, I give you this one chance, you and your men. Come back!”
“No!” he screamed, infuriated. “I will not!” His men screamed their agreement.
“Then,” said the king, grief etched in his voice, “I hear by banish you from Esidara! You must roam the world with no home and you may never return here.”
The mad laughter came again. “Know you, O king, that Dmaa fights with me?” his laughter shrieked out into the night.
  The king sagged against the parapet, clenching  it until his knuckles turned white.  “Is it true, Dmaa?”  asked in a weak voice.
“Yes. It is.” replied a small voice from out of the blackness.
‘Then you too must leave.” said the king, a sob catching in his throat. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.
With a wild cry of anguish Dmaa grabbed a large black horse that stood near him and swung aboard.  He realized what he’d done. It was truly the king who loved him, not Racha. He yanked violently on the reins, turning the horse towards the sea. And inward force compelled him to get as far away from Esidara as possible, even though he wanted to stay with all his heart. The horse galloped on.
“Dmaa!” the king called after him, “Dmaa, wait!”
Dmaa turned his horse for a moment, looking back towards the castle and the picture of moonlight glinting off of the king’s armor while he leaned towards him. “Yes?” he called back.
“Dmaa, remember, I love you!”
With a sob Dmaa raised his hand to the king, the only father he had ever known, and rode off into the night., Racha’s laughter following him. He rode to the sea. A small vessel lay off the dock, he bounded on board and cut the ropes, letting the sails fill with wind and carry him out of the harbor, away from Racha, from the king, from Esidara. He looked back at the island. The sun was just rising behind the mountains and it shone off of the island. Dmaa set his face to the west, turning away from the only home he had ever known. Racha’s men were in boats by now too, following Dmaa. And as the last soldier stepped off of the dock the sun shone down and created a curtain of light. Racha stared at the light, then screaming, he ran to it, and tried to cut through with his sword, but to no avail. The curtain had dropped over Esidara.


From that day on nothing was the same. The whole world was upside down, it seemed. Racha pursued Dmaa, but to no avail. He cold not catch the young man. But Racha did not stop. He pursued him, always hoping to catch him, and thus earn his final revenge on the king. And the king? He wept over Dmaa, and resolved that someday, somehow, he would win him back. The forces were divided. A third followed Racha and two third the king. The king allowed his forces to leave the curtain and enter back in, but no one else was allowed in. No more would Esidara be the jewel of the seas. It would be forgotten by all except by those who once lived there. The curtain had indeed dropped.

Chapter two of the new story

Chapter Two

I swam swiftly towards the surface after the dragon. If we got away from me.... let's just say that I didn't want to lose my head. Yeah. It's serious.

"Gideon's going to kill me," I thought to myself as I swam as fast as I could through the water towards the dragon. Which was, I admit, pretty fast, considering that I was always swimming to keep my strength up. Not only that, but I ran five miles each morning and did a number of sit-ups and such to keep in good shape.

I reached for the dragon and... caught it. I quickly stuffed the dragon in my pouch and started back down towards the portal. I hadn't gone far when an arrow flew through the water right next to me. Starting, I nearly let go of the dragon.

It squirmed and I thrust it inside my pouch, diving through the portal. I felt the rush of wind, water dripping off me and flying in a thousand directions. The lights were too bright for my eyes and I screwed them shut.

"Well, well, well, that was quite interesting," came the sarcastic voice.

I opened my eyes to see the dark curly-haired dreamy-eyed boy who stood in front of me, his arms crossed and a glare on his face.

"What?" I was sopping wet, the water dripping in a huge puddle around me. "I got the dragon eggs, right?" I handed them towards him.

He nodded. "Good. Now go change."

I glared and sulkily went off to do as I was told.

I gave up {and that's where you get your present}

I gave up. Not on a story; but on the urge not to start the second Snow White and thus have three books on my hands. For those who are waiting for it, there is your present.

We’re traveling a dark, dirty stairs going up. Everything is small and narrow, and in some places I have to wait for Andrew to budge himself forward. It smells of something horrible… like lost dreams or the sort. Our torch, once shining so brightly, now gives off an eerily blue light; bouncing off the walls and showing shadows of things that aren’t even there.  We go up and up and there still isn’t any sign of light or an opening.
      I’m not sure what came into me but suddenly I speak out loud in a voice that’s not mine: ‘’Let me out!’’
      In front of Andrew, where there was no passage, a door opens and light spills out. ‘’What was that?’’ Andrew asks sharply, turning to face me.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

I almost cried {the cons of a writer}

You know how when you write an emotional scene, it seems so real that you feel what your character is feeling? That's what happened here. So yes, you get to deal with an emotional Madeline. Enjoy. ;D

Anyway, I skipped one of the chapters because I had to post this RIGHT NOW. I'm sorry, but that wasn't a good show of my writing skills, anyhow. A few things before awesome scene:

This chapter isn't too gory, but it is a little sad and ''wow...''-ish, so I would suggest older readers read this instead.

Also, this chapter is very important. It reflects something very important that's happening in a book I'm writing {coughcoughthat-i-also-already-gave-you-info-aboutcoughcough}.

‘’Say, do you have any candies around?’’ Jimmy bluntly asked. It had been two long stories that weren’t new since we had last seen him, and Jimmy was itching for a new one. ‘’Bored, are you? You could have told me,’’ Harold the Elf said, trying to keep a straight face. Jimmy looked rather ashamedly at his right pant leg hem. ‘’Well…. They aren’t new stories. New stories are the very best, unless you haven’t heard an old one in a long while.’’ ‘’Alright, Jimmy, you little elf, I’ll tell Nellie and you a new story,’’ Harold the Elf confirmed. Quickly he racked his brain for a new story his great great grandson hadn’t heard.
       ‘’Ah-ha!’’ Harold the Elf at last said. ‘’I’ve got a very good story for you to hear today.’’ And so, Harold the Elf began.

Chapter four:

       Jimmy, still waiting for his new story, played with his pant leg hem. Nellie, however, noticed something odd was taking place.
       ‘’Jinny! Nodd lace!’’ Nellie squealed, violently shaking Jimmy’s arm. ‘’Nellie, stop it!’’ Jimmy crossly demanded and played more with his pants.
       Nellie, worrying for the worst, looked up again at Harold the Elf. He just… well… he just looked different. Nellie couldn’t really describe it and neither can I. But something was happening within Harold the Elf.
       Harold the Elf, shivering with excitement and fear of the unknown, happened to look down at Nellie.
       ‘’No, Nellie, don’t fear for the worst. Fear for the best,’’ Harold encouraged.
       ‘’When will you tell us a new story?’’ Jimmy demanded. ‘’Now. I will tell you the best story of time and—ohh! It’s horrible! Stop this cruelty!’’ Harold the Elf cried out. Even Jimmy, who always declared 'I ain’t ‘fried of no nothin’!’, shrunk back.
       Meanwhile, Harold the Elf was seeing the horrible things of the future. ‘’Burning, death… how could we go so wrong? Where are the elves, the ones who swore to protect all from this?’’ From nowhere, a silvery voice answered: ‘’they were killed off long before this time, Harold the Elf.’’
       Harold the Elf, presently returning to Jimmy and Nellie after hearing the voice, slipped Nellie and Jimmy off his lap. ‘’I think it’s time for you to leave. This story was not meant for those so young.’’
       But Jimmy protested: ‘’No. Nellie will forget it by the time we’re home, and I promise I won’t speak a word of it to anybody else.’’ With this, Jimmy firmly planted himself on Harold the Elf’s lap and helped Nellie get up there, too.
       ‘’Fine, but I doubt any of you will forget it,’’ Harold the Elf hinted darkly, already worrying about the feedback he would receive from Nellie and Jimmy’s parents.

       ‘’Far, far into the future, there was a small house in Ireland. This small, dirty house was located in Lambre, a town that would be destroyed soon after.
       ‘’Lambre was a dirty, dank place. Yes, it had it’s school, and it’s church; but hardly anybody went to either. What little could be taught at home would be taught there, and that would be all the child needs to know.
       ‘’Living up in the little house was a family of nine. Seven children and two parents. The father was gone most of the day… he worked for the bigger half of the day, making small wages, and then would disappear for the rest of the day until it was supper.
       ‘’The mother was greatly big, and rather homey, if not dirty. Everyday she would take care of her children, and taught them what she knew {what didn’t happen to be a lot}. Food was scarce, and all day the mother gave her food to her children, telling them breezily: ‘’Oh, I’ll get dinner somewhere else,’’ and would take a few coins and head out.
       ‘’The children were jolly children, fun to be around, and very sly. When they were hungry, they stole food. When they wanted entertainment, they would steal a trinket. Even though they were thieves, they had a feel to them that would draw you to them, knowing at once they would become your ‘’best friend’’.
       The middle one, though, was different. Scare-ish-ly different. He spoke of ludicrous things.
       ‘’The children lived a happily empty life, never knowing they were missing one thing important for a child to grow: love. Until one felt it… and was changed forever more…

       ‘’War came upon Ireland when the middle lad was just nine. All around the little house was fire and hatred and death and blood. The little children were kept inside, being babied and told: ‘’There are no screams. Now hush!’’
       ‘’All the children believed the mother and didn’t question her. Expect for the middle one. ‘’I hear them, Mother.  What is happening?’’
       ‘’The mother, who liked this one least of all, slapped his hand and told him to hush. The child went, crying softly and holding his slapped hand to his cold lips, to the corner where the other children were waiting.
       ‘’The father, who could not work because of the war, quietly conferred with the mother. ‘’I think we should take five of them and run for our lives.’’
       ‘’And what will happen to the other two?’’
       ‘’We can leave them as a peace offering.’’’’
       ‘’Instead of being horrified, as any proper mother would, this mother readily agreed. ‘’The middle one [she never bothered to remember their names if she didn’t like them] and the oldest,’’ the mother decided with no hesitation. ‘’Good. I’ll get everybody out except for those, and you just hush them and tell them to stay here.’’
       ‘’At last the time came for the horrible plan. ‘’We have no food left,’’ the mother explained to her children. ‘’Father and I and everybody except for the middle one and oldest one shall go look for food. Middle and Oldest, stay here and guard the house for us. We’ll be back shortly. Stay in here,’’ the mother ordered; and just like that, she left them.
       ‘’Oldest and Middle stayed in the little house for long, bravely thinking they were guarding it from intruders. Finally, Oldest being hungry, he opened the pantry. ‘’Why, look at this! There is food fit for kings!’’ Oldest cried, wondering how his dear mother missed this. ‘’How did Mother miss this?’’
       ‘’Quietly and horribly it dawned upon them both that Mother did not miss the food. ‘’We’ve got to get out of here. Take what food you can carry, and run with me,’’ the Oldest quietly ordered, filling a potato sack with canned food and bread and cheese.
       ‘’The oldest stepped out of the little house and was shocked by what he saw. Horrible, horrible things… braving the cold wind, he and Middle ran away.
       ‘’They ran far and hard, and when the mounds of food ran out, and the cold had bitten them so many times there were no fresh places to bite, they stopped. Any tears they cried froze on their rosy cheeks.
       ‘’Determined to live and show up alive wherever their mother was someday, they ran on until they reached a docking port. There they became stow-aways…’’
       Harold the Elf’s voice trailed off, and Jimmy eagerly asked, ‘’Where did they go to?’’
       ‘’America, New York…’’
       ‘’And what happened to them?’’
       ‘’Oldest died on the way to America, and Middle… well, to put it simply: he lived his life, whether bad or good, he did; and he regretted almost nothing.’’
       ‘’Did he ever experience love or learned to love?’’ Jimmy probed. ‘’I think he got married… the future is dimming quickly in my eyes… but he never stopped loving his mother.’’
       Tears poured gently out of Harold the Elf’s eyes. He was crying for things that had yet to happen. 

[note from Madeline: JIMMY PROTESTED!]
All photos via pinterest or google images (including used for designing & favicon) unless otherwise stated.