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 Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2006 9:23 am
Okay...here's another one of my stories. I doubt this one will ever get done. I started it early last summer, and never got around to finishing another chapter.
I've gotta warn you: This is my most descriptive piece in my collection. You thought the other ones were? Well...this might blow you away.
Love in War
Chapter 1
A land barren of many trees and brush lay in waste beneath a sky that held only a few scattered stratus clouds torn from each other by high winds in the height of the atmosphere. The sky glowed a beautiful heated crimson as dusk quickly approached for night to overtake the land. However, the sky in which flames seemed to dance looked strikingly similar to the ground beneath. Blood from the slain bodies scattered across the land gave the soil and rock a very unnatural hue. To add to the terrible scene below, the sun’s heated rays beat constantly against the ground, causing all other colour to disappear from the landscape.
Lower, just above the level of the land, a light breeze attempted to pull the hair out from beneath the helmets of fallen soldiers, but could not and simply just passed by. This painting was the one that Princess Abigail, oldest daughter to Queen Aranea of the Yian Province, and rightful heir to the throne, observed every day as she worked in her chambers resolving any political issues passed onto her by her Mother. The war depicted in the painting still raged as soldiers, armed mostly with swords and bows, fought in countless battles along the borderline. The Yian Province and the Kingdom of Orion had been pitting battles against each other for the last one hundred years and now the war seemed to be locked in a stalemate. Each side tried gaining an advantage over the other, but all attempts have failed to date.
The Queen and the High Council working under her in rule were the few people who knew the amount of casualties the province had endured. Nearly a quarter of the population lost their lives in the war, providing service to the Royalty. Thousands of others came back from battles with critical injuries, and nearly all of them never fully healed from the experience. This means that nearly half of the male population, excluding the children and elderly, had already been lost at war.
But the princess, like all the other citizens, were blind to the sheer numbers that the war had taken from them. Living through the war had become a lifestyle for the people of the Yian Province. Farmers were forced to sell their crops, except anything required for them to live, to the military for an extremely low price. All the factories in the province produced weapons, shields and armor and also sold to the military. Villagers not farming or smithing would be gathering the resources needed for the war effort. The tax rate had been gradually doubled over the years, even after the villagers’ endless protests.
However, little concern for the war passed through Princess Abigail’s mind as she worked through long hours of resolving politics. Her work often consisted of tending to criminal offenses and complaints of the people.
The room in which Princess Abby worked was one filled with dynamic colour emitting a warm emotion from floor to roof. It was decorated in a number of soft colours ranging from a deep crimson to a wonderful sunny orange. Many objects, some made of crystal while others composed of a perfectly blended silver-gold, reflected the light that gleamed through the giant glass window, looking like a raging inferno, for the sun was dawning on this old day.
Soft, transparent linen drapes, falling like a waterfall of felt to the carpeted floor, stood drawn beside the window. Numerous designs were stitched into the fabric in a number of radiant shades of red. Stretching across the perimeter of the drapes was a border of gold, stitched ever-so carefully that they looked painted by the greatest artist of the Yian Province. With the drapes pulled aside, a seascape of the Lake Gavriin was clearly visible with the sun setting behind the great Abavian Cordillera beyond. This scene shared the same fiery light that danced along the walls and floor of Princess Abigail’s room.
Far into the depth of the room, cloaked by a shadow of darkness, was where the princess frantically wrote. With a feather tipped with a coating of jet-black ink, Abby worked her hand as fast as it would allow. The root of the feather scratched roughly against a thick scroll that was held open by a black cylinder, which contained a dozen of other feathers, each with a different style of colour and design. Even though the princess’s hand wrote at an incredible pace, her writing was fairly legible and looked professional.
As the sun further dawned on the day, its’ light giving into the darkness, Princess Abigail lit a candle and rose the flame to the structure hanging from the roof above her desk. The flame danced around the candle’s wick for a few short seconds, then caught fire on another wick, larger than the candle’s, and the blaze became slightly larger. With new light from the flame, the room began to glow with an array of vivid colours. Shielding the tiny flame was a chandelier of crystal, carved into a number of pieces of all different shapes and sizes. As heat built underneath the chandelier, it began to rotate, like a graceful dancer. The colours danced wildly on the roof and nearby walls, in excitement of the falling sun. As Abby lowered the candle, melted wax dripped to the metallic saucer holding it, and she snuffed the light out with a single blow of her breath. The fire she provided herself made the scroll glow slightly golden.
After examining the brilliant light for a few moments, Princess Abigail promptly returned to her work. She worked hard, without breaking except to stretch her hand, until she came to the bottom of the scroll. On a line dotted across the width, Princess Abigail signed her name in a fancy signature, which looped high and hooked low, then rolled it back up into it’s original state. She ripped a crimson ribbon that was dangling off the side of her desk and tied it around the scroll in a complex manner. After it was tied securely, she lifted the cloth falling all around the desk and opened a drawer to her right with a key that she kept dangling around her neck on a long silver chain that fell to her breast. When the key turned in the lock, she heard a click and pulled the drawer open. Inside lay hundreds of stickers no larger than one of the many rings encircled around her fingers. These were her seals, which looked like a rose peddle with a golden tip. She removed one, and locked the drawer.
She took the scroll in her left hand, and her seal in the other. With her index finger, Princess Abigail pressed the seal just behind the bow that she made with the ribbon. Then, with her thumb, she rubbed the seal for a while. The seal melted into the paper with the heat of her hand, and the scroll was permanently marked with royalty.
Abby rose to her feet slowly, as her legs cramped from sitting for so long. Her long, crimson dress rippled to the ground as she stood. She shook her legs of their weariness, and trekked to her doorway with the scroll in-hand. When she came to standing in front of the door, she twisted the golden doorknob and opened her door slowly. The hinges didn’t creak, and no sounds were made. She stepped just outside the doorway, into a hallway stretching far into the castle. Next to her doorway, sitting secured on a fancy shelf and bound by large black chains, was a silver and gold box. Flowing designs were scratched beautifully into the metal with diamond-shaped emeralds and rubies embedded in it at every corner. With the same key she used for her drawer, Abby unbound the box of its’ prison, releasing the chains. She lifted the hood off the box and lightly placed the scroll within it. The scroll fit perfectly, laying comfortable on the bottom of the box. She then bound the box again and locked it, and returned to her room, closing the door silently behind her.
Princess Abigail strutted wearily to the side of her bed. She was glad that nobody else in the castle could see her here, walking with her shoulders slumped and a face of weariness. She knew it was unprofessional for a princess such as herself to act this way, even after a long day of work. None of her servants would dare to speak negatively in front of her, though, in fear of losing more than just their job.
The Princess untied her dress, letting it fall to her ankles in a large pile of felt. The soft curvature of her breasts, through the thin layer of cloth enclosing them, and her waist was emphasized by the small candle light from her chandelier. She stretched her thin, lady-like arms back to her hair and released the pins that held it up. Her long brown hair rippled down her spine, sitting on her shoulders and to her mid-thigh.
When finished with her hair, Abby slowly walked to the chandelier above her desk. She pressed her palms against the desk’s surface, the cloth wrinkling beneath the pressure as she leaned forward. She blew the candle out with one simple breath and all the vibrant colours faded into the darkness. Only the light from the moon and stars shining outside guided the princess back to her bedside.
Abby sat herself down on the thick, comfortable sheets that covered her bed and relaxed her arms and legs, letting them fall into any comfortable position. She sat there for many minutes, absorbing the cool air around her, and losing herself in thought. It was after an extended period of time that Princess Abigail dropped her back onto the bed, allowing herself to be consumed by the bed in comfort. She spread her arms and legs apart to cover most of the bed’s surface, laying half-naked with only a thin bra and underpants. It wasn’t long before the world completely silenced around her, and her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep, laying open to the world around her.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 7:38 am
That is really good!! I like the all the discription. why aren't you going to finish it?
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000Hinata000 Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 1:58 pm
I quit writing this one simply because it was a test. I was testing myself to see how well I can describe within a human setting. If you'd read all the stories I have ever written, they are based on animals, exept one, which was Changes... That, however, was based on a low-life lifestyle and, in many ways, similar to what I wrote in my other pieces.
This story does actually have a plotline(sorry, can't help myself). But...I didn't keep with it because I was working on Jaded Existance at the time. And still am.
I think I did well to describe the higher standard of living in humans. Goal achieved. Story dumped.
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Posted: Mon Nov 13, 2006 1:51 pm
Okay, I understand that you’re not going to finish it, and why, but the annoying four year old brat in me wants to whine and beg you right now, please finish it! This really is great; the detail is on the heavy side, however that’s normal for the beginning of a story. The grammar and spelling (as far as I can tell, which isn’t a lot) is perfect, then again it’s you, it’s always perfect. The character is realistic as the mind can project, at this point. Truly a broad opening that could fit into almost any genre; I love it! The only thing that I would do differently is to have someone of the female persuasion read over it, there is something’s in here that a man could easily picture a woman doing, but she would never do for physical and metal health reasons. However no man (even some women) understands women, so that’s not a completely rational mistake. There were some psyche mistakes but that’s once again the gender. All in al fabulous! I expected you te be great, but this was even better then I was expecting.
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