Home Page › Forums › Fiction Writing › General Writing Discussions › Scribles from a Natalian Scribe (Green Ember Fanfics)
- This topic has 18 replies, 5 voices, and was last updated 1 year, 3 months ago by Elishavet Elroi.
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September 16, 2022 at 3:56 pm #117598Anonymous
- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@elishavet-pidyon. You’re So Welcome! 😊😊😊
September 16, 2022 at 4:57 pm #117602@elishavet-pidyon XD XD Thank you! *makes myself comfortable*
Probably a bunch of stuff, but here I meant I forgot umm okay I’ll just say it(DON’T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN’T READ GREEN EMBER)ÂI forgot the name of Heather & Picket’s mother is SweeneyXD Thanks! I couldn’t resist, considering how much Smalls makes me… *sobs* ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
*blinks* Umm no I haven’t….wow….
I really do love Smalls *sigh* Why did S. D. have to kill him!?!?
🥰#TorrynVelgardProtectionSquad🥰
September 16, 2022 at 7:15 pm #117617AHHHHH GREEN EMBER FANFICS?!!!! @elishavet-pidyon GREAT IDEA!!!! Imma read all this right away I’M SO EXCITED, I hardly know anyone who has read Green Ember ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜. I read all four books and loved them, which is something considering that I usually can’t stand books where my FAVORITE CHARACTER DIES AT THE END (won’t say who that is for the sake of spoilers)… ahhh I can’t wait to get into this!!
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
August 4, 2023 at 11:58 pm #153042Ok y’all. The scribe has returned!
I don’t know who to tag, or who is still interested, but here you go!
*Stokes the fire*
The skies once so blue and so beautiful…
Several years prior…
Gentle rain tapped against the window panes, a rare thing here. I traced the drops down the glass in fascination. They slid and bumped together in their silvery course to the sill. I couldn’t help but wonder what things they said to each other when they met. They must have been polite things like, ‘How are you this fine day?’ Or ‘What’s your name?’ or ‘Have you heard the news?’
A few of the bigger ones were more rude, though. They would have shouted things like, “Get out of the way!’, ‘How dare you!’ or-
‘Filthy outwallers!’
The words, rude enough for the largest of drops, leapt from beyond the glass. They tore my attention from my rain patterns and to the thudding of big feet in unison.
I ducked beneath my window where even the Wrongtreaders’ flaring torches couldn’t expose me.
Thump, thump, jingle of buckles, swish of capes. I listened till they had gone away.
They never realized there was a little doe watching them; they never thought to see me. The big featherheads. I stifled a giggle and went back to my window, exultant in our ruse.
But even mysterious water droplets couldn’t hold my attention all day. Soon I had rested my chin on the sill, waiting for the first sight of Mina.
She must have left ages ago. Away to the potato fields to harvest our dinner – and everyone else’s.
Squirmy anticipation slid up my spine at the thought of our meal. There would be big, fluffy potatoes seasoned with wild herbs Mina always gathered. Maybe we’d brew some potato tea, or toast some of Mina’s wonderful potato bread. I jumped up and to make sure the toasting sticks were clean, just in case.
Yes, there they were, in their place by the hearth. I clasped my little fluffy hands and spun in a circle. Chairs, window, and fireplace blurred together in a blissful smudge until I dropped to the floor in a daze.
The house was quiet around me.
Where was Mina? She usually wasn’t late.
I got up and began to wander about the house, from the living room to the kitchen, then to our bedroom and back again. All was still.
Then the far-off sound of a hawk’s screech planted my feet on the floor.
Oh horror! Today was Victory Day. My feet turned loose and I ran to my window to press my quivering nose to the panes.
Mina?
I stood trembling, ears pricked for any sound.
More screeches.
They came from the high wall of the Sixth District, falling down into my quaking heart like the shivering blades of a specter. I sank down and covered my head.
Then came the screams. Screams of younglings, of parents, of prey. Faint, but just discernible if I listened hard enough, and I couldn’t help it. My breath was shallow.
The door burst open.
I jumped to my feet, heart pounding as a weary doe stepped in and shut the door tightly behind her.
“Hello, darling.”
“Mina!”
I ran to bury my face in her skirts, ignoring the dampness of her clothes. She set down her basket and lifted me up. Her dress smelled sweet like grass or blessings.
“Hush now, I’m back.”
“It’s…it’s…”
“Victory Day, yes.” She finished for me, and sat down beside the fire with me in her lap. We stayed there a minute, absorbing comfort from each other. At long last she lifted my chin to look at my face.
“Lilith, will you go get the shroud from under my bed?”
I nodded, jumping up and dashing off. I was back in a flash, the black fabric in hand.
Mina took it and shook it out, then hung it over the window. “They may celebrate this day as a victory against us, but we will remember Jupiter and the cause. Even if only in our hearts and on our window.”
She drew me close again and began to sing, “It will not be so in the Mended Wood…”
My little voice joined hers, “We’ll be free and glad again….”
It will not be so in the Mended Wood, when the heir of Jupiter reigns…
When the song ended, she smiled at me, “Would you like to hear our story after dinner?”
“Yes!”
Dinner preparations were a noisy affair, and they enclosed us into our house, barring out any sound from outside. I almost forgot what I’d heard.
We did have big, fluffy potatoes, and tea, and toast, but somehow, the feast didn’t taste as good as usual. Mina wasn’t hungry either. We ended up putting most of the meal up for breakfast.
At last we sat again by the fire. I watched her face as she gazed into the dancing flames as if she was seeing beyond them. I was young, but I could tell there were heavy thoughts behind her eyes. I hopped quietly up into her lap so I wouldn’t startled her.
“Mina, what was King Jupiter like?”
She sighed and closed her eyes.
“He was a great king, the best we’d ever had. He…” a tear slid down her nose and she paused.
“Don’t worry about it, Mina. I don’t have to know.”
“No, child.” Her eyes flashed open. “You must know. The truth is the only thing that’ll keep you.” She smoothed my dress and hugged me closer.
“It wasn’t always like this. We didn’t always huddle away, groveling to wicked prey lords. We fought back. We won wars against them. Morbin celebrates this day because he hates Jupiter.” Her eyes lit with passion. “Because Jupiter was stronger than him.”
“Tell me more.” I curled up in anticipation of the tale. She nodded and continued.
“King Good was a wonderful king, intent on restoring that which his fathers had lost. His sons were too… that is, his only sons worth talking about. There was one that ran away in a fit of jealousy, but nobody cares about him.”
“The snotbag.” I grinned, causing her to smile. She tapped my nose playfully and went on.
“He had two other sons, one named Jupiter and one named Roland.” She spoke their names with reverence, but I stopped her.
“Roland?”
“Yes, Lilith. It’s time that you should know.”
Chills swept up my spine, and I sat straight, suddenly aware that tonight, the story was different.
“As you know, Jupiter reigned well and rose to heights we could never imagine. With him went all Natalia, ready to reclaim their heritage lost, and build a world where this would be a thing of stories only.” Tears were in her eyes, but I knew better than to stop her now. I didn’t want to, anyway.
“He led us to look back, to find the old ways, the straight ways. To find truth and to use it as our foundation. Natalia became a land that not only denounced everything Morbin stands for, but that waged right war against every threat that came against us. Those that fought in Jupiter’s army were heroes that protected the helpless and have left us a legacy above our ability to follow.”
Her voice sank, and we sat for a moment in silence before she picked up her trail of thought.
“But our fight is different than theirs. Our defiance is life itself. To live, despite everything. To keep a light burning in the deepest darkness. We work against the darkness in all the little ways we can, till eventually, we will have tunneled out the very support beams of Morbin’s lair.”
I knew she spoke figuratively, but the image was most captivating. What if we really could?
Her next words jerked me out of my daydreams.
“For you, especially.”
“Me? Why me?”
She smiled.
“Because King Good had another son named Roland, and that son had you. Whitson’s line continues under Morbin’s very nose.” She laughed and swept me up to spin about the room.
“What? Mina! I’m a-”
“Princess! Yes.”
And thus, I learned of my family.
You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you... Are you brave again? -Aslan
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