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[writing-goblin2]

The Pen Part 3 :

They had been walking for not long now when the map stopped, it just went 𝑝𝑜𝑜𝑓. Well not the map itself but the guidence had left. They stopped dead in their tracks, they were in the middle of the forest, had there been q mistake? The girl, of their name had been disoverd to be Elie looked up at Anne. “Why have we stopped?” She said timidly whilst looking around. “The map guidance has stopped, our next ‘buddy’ is around here somewhere” Anne mumbled the last bit as she wanderd down the path. “Is anyone out here?!” She yelled, hoping to get someone’s attention.

“Why hello!” A figure had appeared in front of them, they had pale blue eyes, almost white, and dark inky hair.Their clothing was old fashioned and they seemed tired. “What brings you here?” The figure said almost mumbling.

After explaining everything with the pen among other things. They continued walking as the map had, once again, started guiding them again. The stranger started asking questions, and lots of them philosophical which Anne and Elie could only respond to with ‘I don’t know’ or ‘it’s just always been like that’. Eventually it became annoying and Anne had had enough. “Would you stop?” they had been walking for hours and Anne was tired and hungry.She took out another piece of paper and scribbled ‘sleep’ in small, scruffy letters. Instantly,the map altered and led them down another road. They were in a small town that looked mediaeval. They reached what looked like an inn and they stumbled inside.

“You have any rooms?..” Anne said, timid and tired. “Yes of course,follow me”



[writing-goblin2]

The Pen (part 2)

After awhile of walking around, following the map and writing different words on paper Anne managed to figure out if she wrote “hungry” it lead her to a place she could find food, or iff she wrote “thirsty” she could find water e.c.t . But what unsettled her most was that when she wrote another word like “mango” or something specific it would lead her as well. It seemed odd.

Eventually, after hours of walking, she found herself in another town, the houses were regular and the map sort of... ended when she reached a specific house. Confused, she contemplated knocking on the door and came to a decision. Iff the map wanted her here, so be it, she had to.

One, two, three times.

Eventually a tall 10-12 year old girl answers the door and she seemed to be holding a similar map. “It’s you!” the girl said, hurrying her upstairs to what Anne presumed was her room. “Nan used to write about a girl like you showing up,” she gasped, “you have a map to?”

“Yep, it stopped when I came here so I knocked and I guess I ended up here” Anne mumbled as the girl gatherd up some things which included a large book; two pens; a notebook; some clothes among other things, what caught her eye is that she took a large compass that seemed to be made of gold, real shining gold. “What’s that?...” Anne said, gesturing at the compass.

“Oh this?” She held up the compass. “Just an heirloom, nothing special” she said, though she was lying but it was a convincing lie so Anne rolled with it.

And just like that they were off, two complete strangers going to who knows where doing who knows what.

[writing-goblin2]

The Pen.

An idea struck. I hurried to my workbench and started sketching . A small, black pen with and intricate design on all sides. A pain to make but worth it in the end. It would be made from mahogany and the tip made from the finest silver. Bit ambitious but ok... No clip, since they just get in the way. Er scrap the silver, just chuck some stainless steel in there. Now the ink... I know! Maybe I could get some of the weird ink that old guy sells down the road, I’ll go ask him.

The girl sat her pen down and threw on her raincoat since it was bound to rain when she least expected it and walked down her road purposely, not slow, not fast. When she reached the end, a wide ally that the old man was always sitting in. “Hello!” She said sheepishly.“I’m here to buy the ink that people tell me about” she said, stumbling over her words.

“Ah I see...” the man said, pulling some fancy looking bottles of ink from his bad. One red, one black and another blue.“How much is the....blue one?”she mumbled, intrigued but the swirls of purple in it. “Fifteen gems. Any sort of shiny thing actually” the man said, “the crowd like them” Anne was confused but hundred him 15 ‘shiny things’ anyway. And as the story goes... it started to rain, luckily she had her raincoat and walked back down her road, again, purposefully.

Anne hung her coat on the peg, relived her flaming red hair wasn’t appsolutely socked. Chucked of her books and settled down at her desk. It was warm inside compared to the harsh and bitter cold the lay a few meters away.

After a while, she began to carve out the small pieces of The Pen. Lastly, the pen was complete and she added the ink, it was flawless! The best one yet, but lo and behold, when she tried to scribble it on a piece of paper, instead of a small scribble,‘twas a small map.

Curious, she did a large scribble the covered the page, a map! A large, readable map. Anne was astonished, all the things marked nearby shops or roads and when she moved it in a certain direction, the map seemed to move with her, “I wonder where it will lead me...” she mumbled as she gatherd up supplies into her small, mint-ish green backpack.

[writing-goblin2]

Martha ran to the end of the

ally. There was no escape. A dead

end. There was nothing she could do. It was her fault any way

her mother warned her about

crossingthe barrier, she warned her

about devils, angels of revenge ,

fallens, all drove by one

motive. Kill. The Angel

She turned around and faced

them. Hands out, reciting

pares in her head, begging

for a savior .

She spread her wrings and

made a shield with them,

something a normal angels

were

not able to do due to

hey their puny wings.

" Awww is the angel gonna

we cry?"

the first devil said in

a devious mooking tone

Suddenly....

A angel, no fallen? Imbetween ?

No .

A guardian?

A savour ?

A, Saint!?

No

Whatever they were there were

multiple, all with slight differences.

Shade of grey, horn hype ect.

Oh one thing they all had in

common

was their

bows . Not your ordinary birch

bow, but one that appeared to

be made of coal black bone . A

shade that only high teir demons

had . Martha noticed something

odd. Their eyes were glowing?

Yes they were. the demons were

petrified and ran far, far

ment, some even taking flight.

Two rushed over to her and

spread their wings infront her

her defensively, the others pointing

their bows at the singular

(or so I thought ) demon. these

"anglels' knew what he was doing .

the demon was dishearted by

this anyway, but went along

with his plan.

A dozen or so demons burst

from the sides of the ally Like

a swat team and stood Afront

of him with sheilds of.. what

was that called ... Sky iron! that

was it .

The glowing angels (what Martha

called them) where not fazed and

actually pleasantly surprised at

some decent competion .

( insert epic fight scene here ).

First four (Maybe three) pages!

Appologies for the way it’s layed out, i used a handwriting to text app and it came out like this.

[writing-goblin2]

Sarah lept down from the vast oak tree as if it was a bar stool and stood. She was late. On the first day. Her mother was going to kill her iff she found out, which wouldn’t happen anyway.

She was running across the open field off corn below her when she saw a dog running beside her. It was almost odd. Since everything with the whitch happened, she seemed to double in size each day.This quickly became an issue since she was almost as tall as a skyscraper now but no-one really ever knew. They always saw her as a simply part of their imagination. She didn’t mind this at all. I think... Anyway I’m getting sidetracked.

She ran through the fields, the border collie bolting after her as fast as he could. It was nice that animals had imaginations too, nice to think about. What they might be thinking about.. Darn I’m getting side tracked. Guess I’ll have to leave this for another day..,

(The actual narrator)

They sat the pen down and left the room. Little did they know, they were the one getting written about.

(edit: thank you kind stranger for the note! It means alot :) )