Hello, this is the first chapter second post, I hope you like it. I am
sorry about the slow starting and short chapters, but I'm still trying to
see what direction I want this story to go in. If you have any suggestions
please tell me (in a review).
Warning- this is concerned with religion if you take offence to other believes, other then Christianity, you might want to stop,( your you can read and tell me what you think) but if you do decide to read on and you disagree and/or find any of my religious points offensive you can flame all you want, but I'm not going to change it.
Disclaimer- I do not own anything your recognize from the labyrinth.
Also please Note that the earth will be referred to as 'her'
I would also like to ask if any would be interested in being a beta-reader for my story.
~ Chapter One ~
A lone figure walked the winding path through the forest. Head bowed in thought, arms grasping the cloak to its sides, long legs taking strides at a much slower pace then would have been thought, the figure gave off humble air at this point in time, a drastic contrast its normal appearance. A wind blew through the glade in which the figure was walking, causing hair to fly out from under the hood. The exact color couldn't be distinguished in the light, but one might guess that the air was a darker shade of brown, maybe black. Eyes were hidden by the hood of the cloak, along with any facial features one might try to distinguish. The hands were the only skin that the figure showed, they were a pale white, with long fingers and nails. In their grasp was a red leather bound book that was worn on the binding. As the figure walked a haunting tune filled the woods.
"Gilgald was an elven king of him the harpers sadly sing last of whose realm was fair and free between the mountains and the sea
his sword was long his lance was keen his golden helm afar was seen the countless stars in heaven field were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away, And where he dwealth none can say For into dankness fell his star In Mordor were the shadows are."*
The words were chanted rather then sung, but the effect was true. It was a poem in a book long forgotten, lost during the age of men. The figure bowed its head in reverence of things long past. Like the trees it mourned the loss of the old gods and ways. It had never seen the old days, born after the passing of the old gods, but it could still feel the world dying. Like all of its kind, which were dwindling in number, it tended to the trees and forests try to compensate for the loss, try to ease her (the earth's) pain.
~ End of Chapter One ~
*Some of you might recognize the poem, it is, in fact, from the book 'The Lord of the Rings.' With this information some of you may state that this book is not 'long forgotten' now and was not then (when the movie/ story took place), but for all intents and purposes 'The Lord of the Rings' is a book long forgotten.
Warning- this is concerned with religion if you take offence to other believes, other then Christianity, you might want to stop,( your you can read and tell me what you think) but if you do decide to read on and you disagree and/or find any of my religious points offensive you can flame all you want, but I'm not going to change it.
Disclaimer- I do not own anything your recognize from the labyrinth.
Also please Note that the earth will be referred to as 'her'
I would also like to ask if any would be interested in being a beta-reader for my story.
~ Chapter One ~
A lone figure walked the winding path through the forest. Head bowed in thought, arms grasping the cloak to its sides, long legs taking strides at a much slower pace then would have been thought, the figure gave off humble air at this point in time, a drastic contrast its normal appearance. A wind blew through the glade in which the figure was walking, causing hair to fly out from under the hood. The exact color couldn't be distinguished in the light, but one might guess that the air was a darker shade of brown, maybe black. Eyes were hidden by the hood of the cloak, along with any facial features one might try to distinguish. The hands were the only skin that the figure showed, they were a pale white, with long fingers and nails. In their grasp was a red leather bound book that was worn on the binding. As the figure walked a haunting tune filled the woods.
"Gilgald was an elven king of him the harpers sadly sing last of whose realm was fair and free between the mountains and the sea
his sword was long his lance was keen his golden helm afar was seen the countless stars in heaven field were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away, And where he dwealth none can say For into dankness fell his star In Mordor were the shadows are."*
The words were chanted rather then sung, but the effect was true. It was a poem in a book long forgotten, lost during the age of men. The figure bowed its head in reverence of things long past. Like the trees it mourned the loss of the old gods and ways. It had never seen the old days, born after the passing of the old gods, but it could still feel the world dying. Like all of its kind, which were dwindling in number, it tended to the trees and forests try to compensate for the loss, try to ease her (the earth's) pain.
~ End of Chapter One ~
*Some of you might recognize the poem, it is, in fact, from the book 'The Lord of the Rings.' With this information some of you may state that this book is not 'long forgotten' now and was not then (when the movie/ story took place), but for all intents and purposes 'The Lord of the Rings' is a book long forgotten.