This story is dedicated to a very close friend of mine, Jesse, who has
recently suffered a lot of pain.
Now it is my time to prove to you, Jesse, that I can be as great a friend to you as you were for me.
Rach
Immortal Roses
A scream echoed down a darkened alleyway. Footsteps could be heard
fleeing the confines of the small passage the person ran, tears running freely, she was running, running from whatever was behind her.
Suddenly a small body flung itself into the busy streets of the city.
"God help…!" Screamed the small individual. Her body collapsing onto the busy street
It was market day in the water filled streets of Delvinya. Barely a soul was inside on such a glorious morning.
The sun was up; the water was fresh and cool.
Children played in the streets.
Nothing seemed amiss. It appeared to be a normal market day for all… All except those who had stumbled upon the girl, or those that the girl had stumbled upon…
"She's dead!" cried out a young man, trying to hold up the head of the young girl that had been hurled out of the alleyway.
People ran in all directions. Some trying to help the man with the dead girl, others were running to see what had happened. They searched down the small lane that she had run out of, but had found nothing but a heap of black cloth.
In the far corner of the alleyway sat a crumpled figure in tattered rags. It raised its hand to the light.
The skin had grown shadowed… The skin had grown black. The figure's eyes closed…
In an unnoticed corner, in small alleyway, a shadow started to grow…
***
"Father… You called for me?"
A young woman in pale silver robes walked into the sunlit throne room of the Palace
of the Rose.
Upon the dais sat a powerful figure. The man, with silky black hair and sparkling blue eyes, stood and walked towards the maiden, briefly kissing her forehead in greeting.
"Welcome dear daughter… Your mother and I were beginning to wonder whether you were going to join us…" Lord Anderron Wyrd the Lord of Delvinya and his queen, Divina Wyrd, walked with their daughter out into the gardens of the palace.
Sweet fragrant scents met their noses. The perfume of roses, jasmines, lilies, practically any beautiful flower known to man. And those that were unknown. The garden was a magical place, as was the world of Delvinya. The ivies that grew up the walls of the magnificent buildings were not green, as they should be, but they were pure gold.
Yes, they still grew though, higher and higher each day, towards the golden spires in the sky. Delvinya was filled with magic. From the old ruins upon the mountaintop, down to the nearly water filled streets.
The streets of Delvinya were usually bustling with creatures. There were majestic
faeries, great Centaurs, and even some water nymphs swimming alongside the people, in
the rivers of Delvinya.
The world of Delvinya was a great island in the sky. Waterfalls gushed over the sides of it, to fall into the perpetual depths of the silver clouds.
In the center of the city rose up an immense palace. Shaped as a rose, this palace held the imperial throne of Lord Anderron Wyrd, ruler and king to the world of Delvinya.
Anderron Wyrd, when he was a young prince, had fallen in love with a faery princess, Divina Quartiet, they had eloped and when he had returned he had found that his father had died from an unnatural disease. He had been crowned the new ruler of the world. Divina had birthed a child, whom she had named Rosalie.
Seventeen years had passed since that day. Now Rosalie was a bewitching young woman, and her father was thinking that it was time for her to start courting. Rosalie of course would have none of this ludicrous nonsense. Men…Who needed them anyway?
She was independent…
She needed no one…
Rosalie had a rebel heart. She had grown to go against practically any one or anything that came up against her. Not to say that she was cruel or unkind in the slightest, she was quite the contrary.
With her waist long, dark brown ringlets, and her sparkling blue eyes, she had grown to be much like her father, although she truly had her mother's beauty. Upon her straight back, were delicate wings.
Their colour was unique among faeries, as she was, half-elfin. They were transparent silver wings,
much unlike the pearly gold ones that every other faery had upon his or her back.
that could be hidden, or put away, whenever desired. Because of her half
elfin heritage she could also breathe underwater for extremely long periods
of time, possibly
forever, if it was ever timed.
There was only one other half-breed faery/elf. She was also seventeen, as
was Rosalie. Her name, was Ella, Ella Andersson.
She and the princess had grown to be the best of friends. They were
virtually inseparable.
Whenever you saw one, you could bet upon seeing the other not too far
away.
As they strolled on through the gardens Lord Anderron stopped and
sat upon a greatly carved seat. It
had been intricately and charmingly carved into the remnants of what had
been a great oak tree. His lips tightened, and he spoke, quietly, but with force.
"Dear daughter, your mother and I feel that the time has come for you to…" He could not
finish though for he was rudely interrupted by a small pageboy running into
the gardens, obviously out of breath, and running for, what seemed like, his life.
He stood for a moment, catching his breath before standing and
bowing regally to the king.
The boy's eyes looked about wildly, before proceeding with his message…
"My Lord, a strange and unearthly plague has been set upon our world.
People are calling it The Rising Darkness… Sir there has already been
thirteen deaths from it. The people of the Southern Passage have been
quickly evacuate from their area, but it seems to be spreading…" He said, his breath once more failing him as he uttered the sentences as rapidly as could be understood.
"Young man, thank you… you may go, if there is nothing else to be said…"
Said the Lord, his face paling as he spoke.
"Rosalie, this is not the time now, we shall speak of this later, for now, we
must depart for the tower of Istrealle…" The tower he spoke of, was the
highest point of Delvinya. That when you looked out from the uppermost windows, you could see out, right across the city, and the lands and seas. Not one part of Delvinya, there was, that you could not see.
At the very top of this tower, lived the sorcerer and diviner, Master
Nemesia Lukeya.
An ancient wizened old man, who had a beard that stretched to the very floor.
His staff was the center of his magic. A tall golden staff, that had an ivory snake wrapped around it, it's mouth opening at the very
top to reveal a large sapphire globe, a globe known as the sphere of Isirius. The globe is an age-old relic, said to be created by the same elves that created their world in the first mists of
time. The crystal was supposedly said to be made of a magical element that had come from the very caves where father time had risen from the immortal pools of creation.
**************************************************************************
Disclaimer: I don't need this, cuz all of this work and all of the ideas of this work are mine…weird… this must be a first…I love this…Extremely happy with it…Please e-mail me and tell me whether you think it is even slightly good… I am thinking that if I could finish it I might get it published…Help welcome, so are ideas, If I do use your ideas and one day, it got published, I would be happy to put your name in it… REALLY.
I tried to get a little more done this time… I just came up with this… whaddu ya fink???
I am extremely happy with it so far…Please…I don't mind if you are critical. Please any news is good news 4 me…
Luv Ya Guys!!!!!!
Dragoness Enchantress
Now it is my time to prove to you, Jesse, that I can be as great a friend to you as you were for me.
Rach
Immortal Roses
A scream echoed down a darkened alleyway. Footsteps could be heard
fleeing the confines of the small passage the person ran, tears running freely, she was running, running from whatever was behind her.
Suddenly a small body flung itself into the busy streets of the city.
"God help…!" Screamed the small individual. Her body collapsing onto the busy street
It was market day in the water filled streets of Delvinya. Barely a soul was inside on such a glorious morning.
The sun was up; the water was fresh and cool.
Children played in the streets.
Nothing seemed amiss. It appeared to be a normal market day for all… All except those who had stumbled upon the girl, or those that the girl had stumbled upon…
"She's dead!" cried out a young man, trying to hold up the head of the young girl that had been hurled out of the alleyway.
People ran in all directions. Some trying to help the man with the dead girl, others were running to see what had happened. They searched down the small lane that she had run out of, but had found nothing but a heap of black cloth.
In the far corner of the alleyway sat a crumpled figure in tattered rags. It raised its hand to the light.
The skin had grown shadowed… The skin had grown black. The figure's eyes closed…
In an unnoticed corner, in small alleyway, a shadow started to grow…
***
"Father… You called for me?"
A young woman in pale silver robes walked into the sunlit throne room of the Palace
of the Rose.
Upon the dais sat a powerful figure. The man, with silky black hair and sparkling blue eyes, stood and walked towards the maiden, briefly kissing her forehead in greeting.
"Welcome dear daughter… Your mother and I were beginning to wonder whether you were going to join us…" Lord Anderron Wyrd the Lord of Delvinya and his queen, Divina Wyrd, walked with their daughter out into the gardens of the palace.
Sweet fragrant scents met their noses. The perfume of roses, jasmines, lilies, practically any beautiful flower known to man. And those that were unknown. The garden was a magical place, as was the world of Delvinya. The ivies that grew up the walls of the magnificent buildings were not green, as they should be, but they were pure gold.
Yes, they still grew though, higher and higher each day, towards the golden spires in the sky. Delvinya was filled with magic. From the old ruins upon the mountaintop, down to the nearly water filled streets.
The streets of Delvinya were usually bustling with creatures. There were majestic
faeries, great Centaurs, and even some water nymphs swimming alongside the people, in
the rivers of Delvinya.
The world of Delvinya was a great island in the sky. Waterfalls gushed over the sides of it, to fall into the perpetual depths of the silver clouds.
In the center of the city rose up an immense palace. Shaped as a rose, this palace held the imperial throne of Lord Anderron Wyrd, ruler and king to the world of Delvinya.
Anderron Wyrd, when he was a young prince, had fallen in love with a faery princess, Divina Quartiet, they had eloped and when he had returned he had found that his father had died from an unnatural disease. He had been crowned the new ruler of the world. Divina had birthed a child, whom she had named Rosalie.
Seventeen years had passed since that day. Now Rosalie was a bewitching young woman, and her father was thinking that it was time for her to start courting. Rosalie of course would have none of this ludicrous nonsense. Men…Who needed them anyway?
She was independent…
She needed no one…
Rosalie had a rebel heart. She had grown to go against practically any one or anything that came up against her. Not to say that she was cruel or unkind in the slightest, she was quite the contrary.
With her waist long, dark brown ringlets, and her sparkling blue eyes, she had grown to be much like her father, although she truly had her mother's beauty. Upon her straight back, were delicate wings.
Their colour was unique among faeries, as she was, half-elfin. They were transparent silver wings,
much unlike the pearly gold ones that every other faery had upon his or her back.
that could be hidden, or put away, whenever desired. Because of her half
elfin heritage she could also breathe underwater for extremely long periods
of time, possibly
forever, if it was ever timed.
There was only one other half-breed faery/elf. She was also seventeen, as
was Rosalie. Her name, was Ella, Ella Andersson.
She and the princess had grown to be the best of friends. They were
virtually inseparable.
Whenever you saw one, you could bet upon seeing the other not too far
away.
As they strolled on through the gardens Lord Anderron stopped and
sat upon a greatly carved seat. It
had been intricately and charmingly carved into the remnants of what had
been a great oak tree. His lips tightened, and he spoke, quietly, but with force.
"Dear daughter, your mother and I feel that the time has come for you to…" He could not
finish though for he was rudely interrupted by a small pageboy running into
the gardens, obviously out of breath, and running for, what seemed like, his life.
He stood for a moment, catching his breath before standing and
bowing regally to the king.
The boy's eyes looked about wildly, before proceeding with his message…
"My Lord, a strange and unearthly plague has been set upon our world.
People are calling it The Rising Darkness… Sir there has already been
thirteen deaths from it. The people of the Southern Passage have been
quickly evacuate from their area, but it seems to be spreading…" He said, his breath once more failing him as he uttered the sentences as rapidly as could be understood.
"Young man, thank you… you may go, if there is nothing else to be said…"
Said the Lord, his face paling as he spoke.
"Rosalie, this is not the time now, we shall speak of this later, for now, we
must depart for the tower of Istrealle…" The tower he spoke of, was the
highest point of Delvinya. That when you looked out from the uppermost windows, you could see out, right across the city, and the lands and seas. Not one part of Delvinya, there was, that you could not see.
At the very top of this tower, lived the sorcerer and diviner, Master
Nemesia Lukeya.
An ancient wizened old man, who had a beard that stretched to the very floor.
His staff was the center of his magic. A tall golden staff, that had an ivory snake wrapped around it, it's mouth opening at the very
top to reveal a large sapphire globe, a globe known as the sphere of Isirius. The globe is an age-old relic, said to be created by the same elves that created their world in the first mists of
time. The crystal was supposedly said to be made of a magical element that had come from the very caves where father time had risen from the immortal pools of creation.
**************************************************************************
Disclaimer: I don't need this, cuz all of this work and all of the ideas of this work are mine…weird… this must be a first…I love this…Extremely happy with it…Please e-mail me and tell me whether you think it is even slightly good… I am thinking that if I could finish it I might get it published…Help welcome, so are ideas, If I do use your ideas and one day, it got published, I would be happy to put your name in it… REALLY.
I tried to get a little more done this time… I just came up with this… whaddu ya fink???
I am extremely happy with it so far…Please…I don't mind if you are critical. Please any news is good news 4 me…
Luv Ya Guys!!!!!!
Dragoness Enchantress