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pumpkinbatwriting-blog · 13 years ago

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Laea's Story (Part 1.2)

((Yes!! I continued it!... I might edit this in the future, but whatever))

It had been two months. Two months since Laea had been kidnapped from her village. Two months since she had disappeared without a trace. The purple stone, which caused this all, was tied on a string around her neck.

Snow fell down softly outside her window. The window was her small escape to outside of her room. An escape from this new life she was forced to live.

The door opened. In came Raceil, her kidnapper. Laea had to admit, for being ten years older than her fourteen years of age, he was handsome. A strange thought it was. But, this thought was true.

"Laea, dinner's ready." He muttered as he leaned against the wall. She nodded and simply obeyed his unspoken command. Come out and eat with them. Them. The other men Raceil lived with.

Guiding her out of the room, Raceil sat Laea down in the chair next to him. The food she received wasn't much, but she understood that in winter, they woouldn't have much. Breaking her bread in half, Laea placed the larger piece on the altar. She dedicated the offering to the only Goddess she recognized that was from her village.

Although Emnue was a minor Goddess from her village, Laea felt She has taken to watching her. Besides, She was the Goddess who represented children. Especially children who were taken from home. Laea found this ironic that these men honor Her in this house. Perhaps it was because they had vowed in Emnue's name to not hurt her.

Another God which these men especially honored was one of the many Husbands to Emnue. This Being, Telayus, seemed to be a more secret God. That, or these men found him from another village. Either way, they were very devoted. Very devoted to this secretive God. So secretive, that every time Laea mentioned Him, the men would get quiet and exchange looks.

One of the men, Ameray, kissed his hand and paced it on the altar, muttering Emnue's name. Laea knew he was married to the Goddess by Divine means. And she also knew he was the man from her village who had arranged Laea's own kidnapping. For both those things, she was split on whether to trust him or not.

As the sky got darker outside, and Laea had finished eating her food, she bowed to the altar, muttered a prayer and turned to leave. But, Raceil grabbed her shoulder.

"Stay."

"W-why?"

His stare into her eyes shook her. Sitting back down, she looked up at him, ready to listen. "We need to talk."

Raceil's tone of voice told her how serious this talk would be. Gulping, she bowed her head, ready to listen to the men talk.

#writing #writing practice

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pumpkinbatwriting-blog · 13 years ago

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Laea's Story (Part 1.1)

((Another short story involving the words "secret" and "stone"))

Sitting down under the tree, Laea couldn't help but wonder where her life was going. Her mother had died and her father nowhere to be heard or seen. Her village simply kept her for being a good weaver. Not that she was truly wanted by them anyways. She was a prankster, always causing trouble. If it weren't for her skills, she would have been kicked out, left to deal with life on her own.

Laying down, she remembered something her mother had given her a year before her death. The visuals crossed her eyes of the tiny purple stone her mother asked her to guard well. Apparently, she was not to show it to anyone.

With a start, Laea bolted up, running to her house. Her sprint through the village left many curious, staring eyes. She didn't care. Through the door of her small house she went.

Everything was amiss. Chairs were flipped over, drawers tugged out. This wasn't right. Nothing seemed as it should. The steady thumping of her heart was the only thing Laea could hear right now.

Then she heard them.

Footsteps.

"H-Hello?"

The response she got was a hissing snicker. From behind, a gruff hand clasped her shoulder. The hot breath down her neck. The man's other hand held out a small object inches from her face. Her mother's purple stone.

"Looking for this, Laea?"

Chills ran up and down her spine. This wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.

((may or may not continue.. *shrugs*))

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pumpkinbatwriting-blog · 13 years ago

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(Untitled)

((The words used are "card" and "inch" from a generator... I will write a small paragraph using those two words :] ))

Looking down at her palms, Madeline grimaced at the dirt smeared all over her skin. The dark colored specks filling in the tiny cracks in her hands. Above her, the pouring rain continued to splash her body. Thunder cracking in the distance. She had to go inside. But, no, the garden had to be attended to. Her neglected flowers needed weeding, and she was no longer avoiding that. Even if she had to do it in the rain. Digging her hands into the soil, she gripped something flat. Carefully pulling the card out, she examined it. It had been just buried, she could tell. Right before the storm. Opening up the now soaked and muddied card, she read the inch wide letters. "I love you, Madeline." With no trace of who this secret admirer could be.

#writing #writing practice

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