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Old April 20th, 2008, 2:14 pm
Dandinigirl13  Female.gif Dandinigirl13 is offline
Fourth Year
Join Date: 04th November 2007
Location: England.
Age: 26
Posts: 511
Re: Indoronel *Dandinigirl13 and accompanied writers from 'It's OK to be Bored!'

Hi, Dandini here! OK, first post is a small prologue for y'all! Btw, don't kill me because I have put large spaces between paragraphs, it's so it is easier to read! Enjoy!


When the time came, would you surrender the things that you loved the most?

Death. It seems odd that we can’t escape it, or we can’t feel his icy breath over our shoulders – we have to wait for him to take us away. Many fear him, and others embrace him. Some have no choice.

The demon king.

A cloak wrought with blood,
pilfered from living veins.
Eyes as black as a night,
where no such stars wink.
Alone in his dark domain,
that was Stolen from the dead.
With one blackened soul,
that rots within his breast.


The air was dense with death.

She could smell it in the air, hear it in the wind. Anyone with fairly good vision could spot the vague shadow of a woman standing underneath the forest canopy, her face flickering in and out of sight with the gentle swaying of the trees. Her mind was saturated with voices, mangled shrieks and twisted howls of pain, like the sound of wolves calling to the distant full moon suspended in the night sky.

Death. Fear. Malice. Treachery. Blood.

Tears slipped down her cheeks and dripped onto her chest, which was rising and falling in deep, shallow breaths. She was clad in lilac, her hair flew about her in the wind like a ravens’ beating wing. Dark eyelashes framed a pair of grey eyes, the colour of moors on a misty morning. Anyone could tell she was young.

The wind changed direction, carrying the stale, putrid stench that was from the corpses she knew lay hewn and as still as the statues of her forefathers. Men she had known, loved, cared for. Why are we given life, and built with it…just for it to be taken away?

She listened more carefully: the wind also carried the smudges of sound; hooves thudding against the earth…leave and twigs crumpling beneath immense weight…

What appeared to be a large, black shadow plummeted through the trees like the roar of thunder. The woman cowered and threw her arms up to shield her face - her cry was drowned by the shriek of the great black stallion. It appeared to be a segment of the ink-black sky - amost like it had been cut out from the stars and inflated with life. She backed away; her foot caught the side of a thick root that was protruding from the forest floor like a long, gnarled finger. The young woman tumbled backwards, her skull throbbed beneath her hair. Her vision blurred, for a second she thought she saw death loom over her.


She could hear her heart thundering in her ears as she lay, gasping for breath and crumpled on the ground, horrified. Her fingernails clawed into the mud. She looked less than regal - like a deranged madwoman that ought to be locked in a cage and gawked at by probing children.

“Isolath? Is it you?” Her voice cracked.

“Yes, Eronnine.” Isolath leaped from the saddle, so that his cloak flapped around his ankles. The woman considered him for a moment. He was clad heavily in many cloaks but the several hoods were cast from his pale face; a thick plait of jet black tumbled down the length of his spine. Glittering brooches were pinned onto the midnight blue of his tunic, so that it appeared he wore the very night sky upon his breast.

“ Isolath,” her voice broke again, shattering like a fragment of glass under a man's boot. “ I thank you.”

His lips curved into a smile, a worried, caring smile. Then it was set like stone, “Where are they?”

“Arthlos has taken one.” She whispered, still crying silently. “I wanted you to deal with the other.” She thrust a bundle of grey-blue cloth into the sorcerer’s hands, which were larger than the bundle itself; half of it could fill his palm. Isolath’s black eyes wandered over it, a gaze filled with curiosity, love and – without a doubt – fear.

He swallowed. “You wish for me to take this back to- to my land?”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. “Yes. That you must do.”

He looked at it again, and held it closer to his chest. Isolath shrugged a hood over his head, so that she could only see the twinkling of his black eyes, “As much as I’ll regret it, I will take it if that’s what you want.” He turned towards the stallion once more and brushed his fingertips against its midnight coat, hesitated… “Won’t – won’t you come with me?” his voice seemed to disappear.

"No!" she barked, “ No, I cannot. I- I know it sounds harsh, but I must leave the future for others to deal with. This is no longer my war…nor is it the time to discuss - the King is dead!” Even her voice shook.

Isolath nodded, eyes downcast, angry. He heaved his body back onto the beast beneath muscular thighs and looked down on her again. Disappointment screamed through his features. He even looked cross at the woman staring back at him, “You would rather die – die! - Than come with an old friend?” he challenged.

“No. But it is what I must do.” She answered stiffly.

“You have a choice!” he urged, “Make it now- while you can! I don’t have much time - ”

“Then GO!” she spat. Anger flashed through her eyes like a comet passing through the clouds, “Go before I change my mind!” she sobbed.

Isolath’s eyes glazed, he blinked and they suddenly came alight with loathing, “Goodbye, Eronnine.”

And he was gone.


Feedback would be great, don't you think guys? So I created a feedback thread>>>
OK....Whose the next poster? Over to you guys at It's OK to be bored!

Until next time,


Fan Fiction If You're Really That Bored

Utopia: Teddy Lupin - 2009+

Thora Jinks - 2008/2010

And if you're feeling it, take a look at my art!

Last edited by Dandinigirl13; April 22nd, 2008 at 6:47 pm.
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