Okay, this is destined to be a VERY long post - you have been warned....
Over my many years as an aspiring writer, I have started a lot of stories. Most of these didn't get too far though. I always had some brilliant idea for the starting scene, but no idea where to go from there. I have been thinking that I might re-use bits of these as side stories and backgrounds for some of the characters in my series of novels. I will post these fragments on here so you can all have a look at my older style of writing. It has changed a fair bit over the years, and is very different from my current style (or I think so anyway). I will try to post these in chronological order, but I don't know the exact dates as to when these were written, so it will not be perfect.
Zelda's Revenge - July 2007 this had nothing to do with the game character, I hadn't ever heard of her at this point
Zelda gazed unfeelingly, down at the tableu spread out at the foot of the ridge upon which she was standing. The small village, ruined and burning was occupied only by the swarming mass of elven troops. But, she reminded herself, they were blood elves; and those responsible for the numerous other villages such as this, blackened and deserted. A creeping fog clouded the view and the clouds were afire with the setting of the blood red sun. As the shadows overtook her the breeze which tumbled her black locks grew steadily cooler she turned to leave, wondreing bitterly whether she would ever have a true home again.
Arissa - Nov 2007
Arissa sighed as she gazed at the stone in her hands. It was a smooth grey stone and might easily be mistaken for an ordinary rock but for the strange sense of foreboding when she drew near it, and, lately, the tingling when it was touched. ‘Almost as if it were trying to tell me something’…
“Arissa! Arissa… Are you there?”
“Amber! What is it?” Arissa placed the stone on the desk and stuck her head out the window to see her friend’s auburn head racing up the track towards the shaded porch. Amber glanced up, visibly relieved that she was home.
“Thank goodness… Nobody else believes me, but you will - I hope. I need your help.”
“Well, come on up. It sounds like you have quite a story.” as Arissa turned around, the corner of her eye caught a blue glimmer on her desk, but when she turned to look, it was gone.
Ten minutes later, the two girls were sitting on the edge of Arissa’s bed, each holding a glass of lemon dew, a refreshing drink with a fizzy tang. Arissa took a sip and set it on the table beside her bed. Smiling, she looked at the reflection in the glass.
“Okay, Amber, I’m ready to listen now. Tell me - why do you need my help? What’s wrong?”
“Well…” Amber smiled wryly, “I really know what is wrong, or, maybe the others are right and nothing is wrong… But it’s all been so strange lately.”
“Strange? I thought living with parents who are town elders would be unusual, but, strange?”
“Well, it’s not anything to do with them, at least not that part of them. That is I don’t think that has anything to do with it… But it might-”
“Whoa, slow down a bit, Am, You haven’t even told me what it is about. Go back to the beginning and start again, we’ve got all day.”
“I just hope we do…”
“Okay, okay. Look, it all started about three weeks ago. Mum and Dad began to look worried, and to go around whispering. It was as if they had a big secret.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Well, no but it got worse and worse, until last Friday, they went missing.”
“Yes, at first I thought that they had gone to a gathering, but they didn’t come back, that was three days ago, and they still haven’t returned. This morning I decided I had to do something, but the other elders just said that they had plenty of magic, and that they should be all right.”
“So, how do I help? Have you got a clue or anything?”
“Well, I checked in their room to see if I could find anything different that might help.”
“Did you find something, a map maybe?
“No maps, but there was this…” as she spoke, Amber pulled a small shard of a strange black metal from her pouch. It was smooth and polished and had an unusual design engraved on it. The sight convinced Arissa that this was not a good sign. Suddenly a flash of blue shone across the glass on the table, Arissa turned quickly in the direction of the desk. Nothing. Only the plain grey stone. Suddenly she gasped and leaped to the desk. Still clearly seen, but fading fast on the surface of the rock, was the silver-blue outline of a curved leaf.
“Must you go? It is such a long way to Moon-Thorn Valley. Do be careful wont you?” Amber finished plaiting her friend’s long black hair and tied the end with a cord of leather.
“Amber, I have to. This is our best clue. Anyway, who better to ask than the dryads and the elves there? They might be able to tell me about the leaf pattern we saw on the stone and maybe someone can find out about the shard.” as she spoke, Arissa fingered her pack and looked inside to check that everything was inside. There was the crude tracing made in haste before the leaf had faded from the stone, the shard - wrapped in a small piece of soft leather, a small supply of thin pale wafer in it’s leaf wrapping, and of course the stone. Arissa slung a water skin from her belt and stuffed a map into the pack. Then, with a quick hug she was off.
“Wait!” Arissa turned at the sound of her friend’s voice. “Arissa, please, have this it may help you.” Amber thrust a sharp cold object into her hand. It was a small dagger.
“Amber!” but she was already gone. Arissa sighed and stuck the knife into her belt, ‘Well, I suppose that it might just come in handy.’
The Beginning - May 2008 this was the original start of my series of novels
The old eagle sat on it's perch -- a gnarled tree growing in the shelter of a large boulder -- and fluffed up his feathers to shut out the chill. For here in the Mountains of Frost, it was the season of white; when mornings were misty and chill, piercing winds blew through the crags of the towering mountains whistling through valleys and chasms. In this season blizzards sprang out of nowhere and fresh snow fell thickly every day. Peering down from his high perch he could see far – as far as anyone could, in this howling gale. He caught sight of some movement amidst the flurry of snowflakes and gazed intently, hardly able to believe his eyes. In the blinding sleet a strange sight was to be seen, a mother leopard -- white as the snow-- worn, weary, spent with hunger was creeping slowly through the storm. Peering closer he noted that she was with cub, and, by the looks of it, near to giving birth. She stumbled and fell, sinking deep into a drift of snow. After a long moment she heaved herself up and went on stumbling as she went. Th eagle turned his head away, he could not fly in this weather; the she-wolf was on her own.
In a small cave deep in the mountains two small cubs nudged their cold, still mother and called for food.
Opal - Oct 2009
Agate gazed at the blackened ruins of the small town and shivered in the icy breeze from the sea. Was this the place to find the one of whom the prophecy foretold? Really, they had made a mistake.. Surely there must be a misunderstanding. Reaching into the folds of her long brown gown she grasped a small flat disk about the size of her palm. It was engraved with strange symbols flowing around its circumference with no perceptible break or end. As she grasped it in her worn hand these symbols began to glow a murky yellow which barely reached beyond her fingers in the oncoming gloom of night. Sensing by it's faint warmth that it was fully tuned, she began to whisper into the breeze her message. “There must be a mistake there is nothing but ruins...”. As her voice faded a new sound reached her ears it seemed to be coming from the now iridescent disk but was the voice of a woman old and tired but with a ring of authority. “there is no mistake. It is the place, either she will be found there or we will fail."
Ellejanna - I don't know when this one was written, but it is probably my favourite of these ones
Ellejanna sighed and dreamily watched the cool breeze as it played with the shavings of wood that now littered the floor of the lookout. It was a calm afternoon in the beginning of autumn and the coloured leaves already made a thick layer on the floor of the forest. It was her first time on watch and she was finding it a little disappointing. Instead of the raids and scouts seen and intercepted in the stories told in the great hall of the forest base, she had seen nothing of interest and had reverted to carving to pass the time. The hair piece was making had been [Lanel's] idea, he had always teased her about her long hair; saying that there was enough of it to string the bows of the entire [squadron]. She fingered the small piece of red-brown wood which she had carved following his plan. It was an oval, curved inward with a small hole at either end. There was to be a matching stick which when threaded through the holes held it in place it was plain but elegant as were all his designs. It was no wonder that he worked creating the [yew] wood bows used by the archers each was different and unique made especially for the owner. She smiled as she thought of her own bow, now, hanging on a hook in the hut behind her, with its string rolled in a tight coil and wrapped in oilskin. The curving lines running from the [handgrip] to each [end] resembled the wind, leaves flying through a forest thick with trees. It suited her personality well, for she loved the wind and wore her hair free catching the energy it was formed from in her golden tresses.