Sunday, October 30, 2011

Sunday Script

Here is the first part of a "book" I am writing....I will not share much. My work is slow. I may share some next Sunday, thus, my blog title, Sunday Script. I know not if this work will ever EVER make it in the published world, so I will not keep sharing. But if you like what is written, let me know. The other book I'm working on, which is at a standstill, has tons of research behind it because it is historical fiction (this one belongs to the fantasy genre). I am STILL stuck at 10,000 words on that one. This, has less words, but I'm working forward a little bit, when the Lord inspires me. I hope it to be somehow reminiscent of C.S. Lewis- ha...a dream, but still, it's ok to dream. Dreams keep my heart pumping, and head learning, and spirit soaring.

Just a few hours ago, she knew of no other life than what she had known for thirty-one years. Her life years. The shock of the attack was still freshly imprinted in her mind, leaving not much to think about except of her life gone in a blink. She not dared a peak back. She doubted she'd be able to see anything she had so naively thought would be forever.

Her large, and warm, fireplace in her even larger bedroom. Linens of the utmost quality in every single dye color available in the seven main cities of the Daliance. Sweet foods for morning break. Murals of lands beyond most imaginations. Soothing music from her personal mentreale...

"Her mentreale..."her voice could not quite get the name out even as a whisper. Her head turned, panicked, to her left then her right, eyes wide, the fear closing in on what would make her forbidden if...

"M'lady," a voice from behind spoke.

She stiffened, knowing that voice. Oh, she knew it, and it would be a curse to her especially now.

"M'lady." The Voice softened a bit.

From kindness, she thought. Pity.

She wanted to ignore the voice. She'd never acknowledged it before now. And would not now. Not even now. Although she was doomed.

It spoke again.

She shivered.

The snow that had fallen hours before had not caused this coldness. Neel, she thought, it was HIM. He would do that to her. To break her.

She would not break.

Her lineage would be destroyed, if so.

"Neel," the Voice spoke," I will not destroy you. I have not the power. Who does, will not either, but for other reasons...."

She cursed, hearing him, because he had heard her. She was a girl from the greatest land on earth. Who now knew she would have to break to live.


He eyed her posture, sighing inwardly at her tremendous stubbornness.

He had been called to this house. And up til moments ago, had been feared. Ignored. Hated.

He knew he'd still be hated. Still be feared but ignored....neel. Not anymore.

The time had come when repentance would rush in on wings of a time of complete disinheritance and displacement. She was not ready, but she must be, and he was to guide her.

His job had never been easy, but he'd himself had almost grown complacent during the day to day duties of inside her great house.

She'd all in the world, yet nothing. She held on to beliefs given to her by family before, who, in their fear and selfishness, jumped to conclusions and behavior that would now effortlessly destroy their precious richness in life.

The air had grown wet but not as cold as he expected. For him, at least. The uncertain time for the Lady would seem cold...bitter. He knew she even saw him as such.

Stifling a strong groan, he fought the battles within himself to show her now, this moment, how wrong she was. How the untruth had caused an entanglement of pain, lies, and discomfort so unnecessary. He could almost no longer bear it. He must follow protocol of the Pralache, even if more of this detestable sin kept hold of her.

Had he known the hold it did have of her, he might have abandoned the True One that single moment, for none but the strongest of heart, the purest, would accomplish the job. And he already had begun to care too much for her soul. It wasn't his duty. His duty was to follow orders. Be a sort of pillar. Proclamation. Guide. Leader. But lover, neel. That was the Other's purpose, only.


The minutes turned into hours. She knew she was being insolent to lead them. How would she, the Lady, know the path.

Lifting her chin, she stopped the horse. She said to the voice, without looking back, "The way is yours."

She had heard of what happens when you glance their way, to the Voices, so she refused.

"Weakness," she whispered.

The Voice, who passed her by at that moment, replied, "Neel, strength.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

First, I applaude you for initiating and working on a writing project as I have wanted to do so but have not even initiated yet. Second, upon reading this portion I am anxiously awaiting "what comes next." Third, the sentence structure and careful selection of words is really intriguing...KEEP in going!!!

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