Stories by Me Options

[Rebecca]

this is going to be where I post stories that I write. I hope that yall enjoy them. I've finished two stories so far, and just have to type them, so it shouldn't be too long before the first one is up here. and I'll just tell you, (IMG:style_emoticons/default/emot-iia.png)

[Rebecca]

Since it doesn't look like this is going anywhere, I'll just post chapters of my existing stories, because I'm that lazy. Here goes.



Innerworld

{Prologue}
The Lord of the Impish folk paced his throne room floor, his gray cloak with black stripes gliding behind him. He had a look of distraught upon his face, his deep, green eyes appearing to ponder something.
“Great Fatespeakers, there must be another way!” He complained as he looked at the five elders that faced his golden throne. The Fatespeakers were cloaked from head to toe in a color that was somewhere in between maroon, and blood red, the hoods of their cloaks covered their eyes.
“There is no other way, Lord Kilden. And it must be done by the end of the year, or else this land will be no more,” said the Fatespeaker in the front.
“I hope your time in the Outer Dimension was well spent, because it is almost up,” the next Fatespeaker commented.
“It was. And to save my land, I will do what I must,”said Lord Kilden with a slight look of sorrow on his face.
He then left through a window into the Outer Dimension, his body getting gradually smaller as more of him went through the window. Soon he was no bigger than a house cat.


“I guess I better go get her inside,” Rachel said. She walked towards the front door, her dark blue nightdress swaying with movement. When the eighteen year old girl stepped outside you could still barely see the sun rising in the summer's Monday sky.
Rachel waited outside on her porch for her cat to come back, the wind blowing her shoulder-length brown hair in her face, covering her even darker brown eyes. She had let her tabby out that morning to get some exercise, and it hadn't come back for fifteen minutes.
“Tiger!”she called as if the cat might respond and come running.
Then, as if knowing it was being called, Tiger the cat ran up to Rachel with enthusiasm, and jumped upon the porch. The cat was a natural-born stray, but Rachel took her in and tamed the cat.
“Who's a good kitty?” Rachel asked the cat with a baby-tone voice.
“Meow,” the cat said as if in response. Rachel picked up the cat and took her inside, closing the door behind her with one hand.
She then walked to her bedroom, cat in hands, and set the cat down in a chair.
“I love you, kitty,” Rachel said as she set her face down next to her cat's. Tiger then touched her nose with Rachel's nose as a cat might when greeting another. Rachel kissed its forehead.
The cat then leaped off the chair, and during that leap, Rachel turned to watch it scamper off, and decided to follow it out of her room. The cat ran around and then jumped on the couch in the living room, and started playing with loose bits of string. Rachel, instead, sat down in a chair in front of the computer, adjacent to the couch, and wondered why cats like to play with bits of string. As more minutes went by with doing nothing, Rachel became hungry. She got up, and walked into the kitchen of her house. It wasn't a fancy kitchen, but it was still a kitchen. Rachel walked towards her fridge, and took some lasagna out of a plastic container and placed it on a plate that she got from the cabinet that was next to the fridge. She walked another two steps to place the lasagna into the microwave. After it was done, she walked over to the computer in the family room. She pulled out a tray and placed her meal on it, and began to eat. Soon Tiger had jumped onto a chair next to Rachel, and began sniffing the lasagna.
“No, Tiger, this isn't your food,” Rachel said, and then Tiger sat back down on the chair, eyes intent on the lasagna. Rachel then leaned down to pet the cat, and Tiger started purring the moment Rachel's hand touched her fur.
As Rachel stroked the cat, she finished the lasagna. She then took the container and silverware and placed them into the sink in the kitchen, and returned to the cat. Rachel picked the cat up, and carried her back to her bedroom.
Once they were inside the bedroom, Rachel placed the cat on her bed and sat beside her. She then lied down next to the cat and began stroking the cat again.
Rachel sat up after a moment, and stopped petting the cat. She stepped off the bed and sat in a chair next to the bed, pulled out a book from a shelf next to her, and began reading.
Tiger then jumped off the bed as well, but stayed standing on the floor. Rachel set the book aside, and watched as she expected the cat to start playing.
The cat didn't start playing, but instead, it was immediately surrounded by a golden light, that swirled around it. It grew larger and larger, until it became the size of a fully grown man, about twenty years old; then, it was, with messy, black hair, and piercing green eyes. Surrounding this man was a magnificent coat, that had the same, tabby, stripes as Tiger's. What were paws, were now hands with black gloves, and feet with leather boots. He wore black pants that seemed to be almost cotton, but also, almost wool or even silk. The tail was now gone. He almost seemed to glow.
“What the-!” Rachel exclaimed as she jumped up in fright.. Just then the man that had once been a cat reached out and grabbed her shoulders.
“Do not be alarmed, Rachel. Do not fret, I will not harm thee.”
Shocked and disillusioned, Rachel staggered a reply, “H-how do you know my name?”
The man then began laughing, “I've known you for two years now!”
“I-I don't know you. Who are you?” Rachel questioned.
“Oh, do I have to spell it out for you?” he yelled. “I was the cat, you moron! On the question, I am the Lord of the Impish Folk, Kilden. Are you going to calm down now?” Rachel started squirming in his grasp.
“I have no idea what you're talking about, you lunatic, now let go of me!”
“Still not cooperating. I guess we have to do this the hard way.”
Rachel suddenly stopped struggling, not wanting to know what the hard way was. Kilden released his grip on her, and started walking towards Rachel, while she backed away.
“W-what are you doing?” Rachel asked.
Kilden was suddenly behind her, sitting on her bed, and just before she reached the edge of her bed, he placed one hand on her arm, and the other over her mouth.
“Calming you down.” He said it with such a tone that not even a caring mother could replicate towards her child, and this tone caused Rachel to begin to droop her eyelids.
“Now, relax, and forget everything you know about reality, and fantasy. Intertwine them, so that they become something only you could understand,” he said, using the same infliction. Rachel then closed her eyes, and was immediately asleep. Kilden then lifted her, and placed her on the bed. He sat next to her, looking upon her as if a knight towards his princess.
“Sleep well, my beautiful maiden.”


Rachel awoke and sat bolt upright immediately. She looked up, and to her left, to make sure that she wasn't in some other dimension.
“It was just a dream, wasn't it?” she asked herself.
“Was it now?”
Rachel quickly turned her head to the right to see Kilden sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other.
“What are you doing here?” Rachel asked.
“Again with the stupid questions?” Kilden folded his hands and sat them on his knee.
“What do you want with me?” Rachel asked, this time with a yell.
“That will be answered in good time. Any other smart questions?”
“Yes. What exactly are you and what have you done with my cat? Where's Tiger?”
“I am an Impish person. The lord of them to be exact. I thought I made that clear before you fell asleep.”
“Just because you rule over things does not make you one of them,” Rachel commented. Kilden looked at her in expected surprise.
“Clever, as for your cat, it's right here,” he said as he gestured his hands toward himself.
“Where? I see no cat, just a man who calls himself lord of a fairy tale creature of trickery.”
“I told you, I'm the cat, girl. I've said it twice now.”
“But, my cat's a female,” Rachel noted.
“Nice little trick, isn't it. A simple charm really. And with the cloak of animal skin, anything that happened to your cat while I was in its form did not affect me; so the skin got fixed, and I didn't.”
“This is too confusing. I need to wake up from this nightmare!” Rachel yelled.
“Hate to burst your bubble, Rachel, but you are awake.”
“No, I must be dreaming. This is all, just one, odd dream, made of stories I've heard, seen, or thought up!” she protested.
“Get up, get some air, clear your head,” said Kilden with a kindly voice.
Rachel got out of the bed, and calmed down for a moment. Then she remembered, with a blush.
“You don't remember everything from when you were my cat, do you?”
“I remember all about being your cat, and in knowing that I would, I averted my gaze.”
“Good.” Rachel was still blushing, as before she knew the cat was a person, she had commonly changed in her room while the cat was there.
“Why don't we take a walk outside, and I'll attempt to explain what I can,” Kilden suggested as he stood up and began to pace towards Rachel.
“That sounds nice, I guess, but where outside? Won't someone see you?” Rachel asked.
“Take a look outside. You will find that it is not the same as before you slept,” Kilden replied.
Rachel then paced toward her bedroom window, but instead of viewing her backyard, it showed a garden. A wonderful garden, with every flower imaginable, and some that don't exist in anyone's imagination. In the center of this garden there was a fountain, upon its center lied a structure that when looked at straight from any right angle, would show a Fleur de Lis. In this garden there were four trees, one apple, one orange, one pear, and one cherry. Birds fluttered throughout this garden, and some bathed in the fountain. The beauty of it made Rachel gasp with amazement.
“It's beautiful!”
“Isn't it? Come, lets go outside now,” said Kilden with the slightest addition of pride in his voice. It was then that Rachel remembered that she was wearing her pajamas.
“Wait, I can't go outside in this! I'll freeze!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, how silly of me. Here,” he said as he handed her a white robe with golden designs around it along with matching slippers, “put these on over your clothes.”
“Um, okay.” Rachel gratefully placed the robe over her nightgown, and placed the comfortable slippers on her cold feet. “Thank you, Kilden.”
“You are most welcome,” he replied. “Now, we must get outside where the fresh air can encourage sensible thought.”
Kilden tapped the center of the window, and it grew larger, to turn into an open doorway that led into the beautiful garden. He walked towards the white, swinging bench that hung from between the pear tree and the apple tree, and sat down in it.
“Come, sit. You aren't still afraid of me, are you?” he beckoned.
Rachel walked to the bench, and also sat. “I'm not afraid, anymore; I'm just......confused.”
“My garden here is about the most beautiful place in the Land of the Imps. I'm afraid that the rest is turning into a terrible wasteland,” Kilden said with a sorrowful look on his face.
“That's awful, but what do you need me for?”
“I'd hate to force this on you, but the Fatespeakers tell me that if I don't marry within the year, that my land will be no more. That is why I need you.” Kilden now had a regretful look upon his face. He was no longer admiring his garden, but was facing down with his eyes so very close to tears.
Rachel stared at the fountain, but not in admiration. She was pondering in shocked response.
“B-but, why me?” she asked.
“Why not you?” he replied, “You're one of the few Believers left, and you're the closest to my age.”
“Believer?” Rachel asked, “What's a believer?”
“Someone who still believes or hopes that their imagination is correct, and has never said the Five Fatal Words that kill Fairy Folk.”
“The Five Fatal Words? They wouldn't happen to be-”
“Don't say it!” Kilden interrupted. “It will cause the oldest living Fairy Folk to die. Right now, that would be the oldest Fatespeaker.”
“What is a Fatespeaker?” Rachel asked.
“People or creatures that know what will happen and what must happen to make it happen.”
“They must be very wise,” Rachel said. In her mind she was imagining elder monks hovering in a candlelit room.
“They are, but once they find a solution they like, they stick with it and say nothing else will work.”
“So, wise but stubborn?” Rachel asked.
“Sort of, yes.”
“Why is your land disappearing?”
“I feared you'd ask me that,” Kilden said. He folded his hands and placed them upon his knees. “It is because, no one believes anymore. Not in Impish Folk. Only in Fairies, and Dragons, and Elves. Imps are kept out of stories because they were thought to be wicked. Lands of the Fairy and Dragon are flourishing, while the Elves are even better. The Fatespeakers tell me that marrying will help because they believe that my wife will help people believe. I still do not understand how they believe that.”
“It does not make sense,” Rachel said.
“No it doesn't,” Kilden said. Then he remembered his question, and then turned his face toward Rachel. “Wait, how does it not make sense to you? I thought you'd have the answer.”
“No, I don't. I don't understand it either. If I were to go back to my home, and tell everyone that Elves, and Imps, and Fairies existed, they'd either lock me in an asylum, or think I'm kidding.”
“That's what I thought,” Kilden said. “I'm going to go back, inside, and get something. You wait right here.”
“Okay,” Rachel responded as she watched Kilden stand up and walk back into the doorway.


After about five minutes, Rachel stood up, and walked throughout the garden. When she reached the doorway she stopped. The room inside had changed. She glanced inside, and noticed the changes. None of the furniture was the same, except for the bed, and the colors had changed.
She thought she heard a noise, so she quietly stepped inside the room. As she got closer to the bedroom door, the sound became clearer. It was someone crying, just outside the door and down the hall a few yards.
She didn't dare peek her head through, so she just stood at the doorway and listened.
“It's not fair!” Kilden's voice yelled while still sobbing. “Why my land? Why must I suffer for what people in the Outer Dimension believe?!”
“Your Lordship,” said another voice, “it is not that it is your land, but what the people in the Outer Dimension believe, it is.”
“I KNOW WHAT THEY BELIEVE!” he screamed with his cry. “They believe that Imps aren't fit for children's stories. If they don't tell the children then who will believe?”
“I.....I don't know, sir, I don't.”
“There must be another way,” Kilden said with a final sob.
Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. People didn't believe in Imps because they had no idea what they were.
“I thought I told you to wait outside,” Kilden said. He was standing in front of Rachel, who was kneeling down to listen.
“I-I uh-”
“It's fine. Now you know why this worries me so.”
“Lord Kilden,” said a voice. An Imp's head popped through the bedroom door. It was fairly triangle shaped, with floppy ears, like a dog's, and big, brown eyes. It looked nothing like the mischievous imps in what few children's stories there were about them.
“Leave, Lineuss. I wish to speak with Rachel in private,” Kilden said.
“But, sir, may I make one mention, sir?” Lineuss asked.
“What?” Kilden demanded as he angrily shifted his gaze towards the small Imp at the door.
“The, uh, the Fatespeakers are here now, sir, they are. And they'd like to meet Lady Rachel as well, they would.”
Rachel looked up at the mention of her name.
“Me?”
“Both of you, actually,” Lineuss replied.
“Very well. Where are they?” Kilden asked.
“They are in the throne room now, sir, they are.”
“Thank you, Lineuss, now leave please,” Kilden seemed to command. He turned towards Rachel and let his hand out in front of her. “Let us be off, milady.”
Rachel took his hand and stood up. “Just Rachel, please. ”
“If you say so, Rachel.”
Kilden led Rachel down the hallway towards a pair of large doors. He stopped her about ten meters away.
“Rachel, I suppose the thing I wanted to tell you will have to wait,” he said.
“No, right here is fine. Just tell me what it is,” Rachel said.
“Rachel, it should really wait. First, we must see what the Fatespeakers want.”


As the two stepped through the doors, Rachel gasped in amazement. The throne room was beautifully arranged. There in the center lied a golden seat, and to its right sat one of silver. The room itself was made of stone that left the feel of a castle.
In front of the thrones stood five figures, each cloaked from head to toe in a color that was between blood red and maroon. There appeared to be one from each major creature, one Elf, one Fairy, one Imp, one Leprechaun, and one Pixie.
Rachel noticed there was no dragon. Curiosity compelled her to ask.
“Why is there no dragon?” she whispered in Kilden's ear.
“Dragon's don't like to associate themselves with other magical creatures. It's a taboo to them,” he whispered back.
“We are glad we can see you now, Lord Kilden, Lady, um, what is your name?” asked the second-tallest Fatespeaker, the Fairy. The only thing that showed that it was a fairy was the pair of wings that sprung from her back out of the cloak.
“Rachel.”
“Lady Rachel, do you know why you are here?” asked the tallest Fatespeaker, the Elf.
“No, I don't. Not completely anyway.”
“You are here to help keep the Land of Imps from disappearing.” said the Imp, who was the middle in order of height. The other Fatespeakers started moving from their positions, forming a circle around Rachel and Kilden.
Rachel was trying to keep up with their movements, as they each circled in different directions, but at the same speed. The Imp remained in his spot.
“Do you know why it was you that was picked?” asked the Leprechaun; surprisingly, the Leprechaun was about three feet tall, and had no Irish accent.
“No, I don't.”
Before Rachel finished talking the Pixie had started her reply; the pixie was larger than one might expect, about two-and-a-half feet, and had a rather loud voice.
“Lord Kilden had many choices of bride, including some from the Inner Dimension.”
“May I interrupt?” asked Kilden.
“No,” said every Fatespeaker in unison.
“What is the Inner Dimension?” Rachel asked.
“It's the dimension you're in,” replied the Imp.
“A Dimension within a Dimension,” continued the Elf.
“You live in the Outer Dimension,” the Fairy added.
“Our Dimension exists within yours,” said the Leprechaun.
“Your Fairy Tales exist because we sometimes leave this Dimension,” said the Pixie. All the Fatespeakers stopped moving, making Rachel feel dizzy because she was looking at each Fatespeaker as he or she spoke. She almost fell over, but Kilden steadied her.
“So, Lord Kilden, why did you choose Lady Rachel, and not one of your own people, or someone from this Dimension?” asked the Imp.
“I chose her because she is a Believer,” Kilden replied with an infliction of anger.
“But she is human,” commented the Elf.
“It was to my knowledge that my bride would help inform people to believe in the Imps. That gave me the impression that it would be wise to have my wife a human,” he replied.
“What ever would give you that idea?” asked the Fairy. She fluttered towards Kilden and Rachel, stopping about two arms lengths away.
“Wasn't it you five that told me those words? You five told me that my wife would help people believe again.”
Rachel started inching her way towards Kilden. The Elf noticed this but the other Fatespeakers did not.
Just then the doors to the throne room opened, and everything was silent. A man stepped through the doors. He was taller than even the Elf, who was bowing, and his shoulder-length hair was so blond it was almost white. Cloaking him was a long, white cloak that seemed to billow like a cloud. His pants were black, and his boots were gray. He had eyes were a cold blue, so much that if you look into them, you would immediately avert your gaze as his eyes were like ice. His chin was even elegantly pointed, like the Elf's, but unlike the Elf, his ears were rounded, not pointed.
“What are you doing here, brother?”demanded Kilden.
“I thought I'd pay a visit to my younger brother and his bride-to-be,” replied the man as he stopped walking.
Kilden brought his arm around Rachel, knowing her confusion and fear. He whispered in her ear not to be afraid, but also not to trust his elder brother, Shul. She nodded in response and he released his embrace.
“What business would the King of the Elves have in Impish Lands?” asked Kilden.
“An Elf can't unexpectedly see his brother just because he wants to?” replied Shul.
“You never 'just want to', Shul.”
Shul then began to step forward, and nodded his head toward the Fatespeaker Elf, who stood then from his bow. He stepped into the circle that the Fatespeakers had created, and walked towards Kilden and Rachel. As he approached the two, Rachel stepped back, and Kilden stood his ground, almost in a way to confirm it as his own. Shul changed his direction away from his brother, and toward Rachel.


He stepped closer and Kilden watched with either displeasure, or anger, as his brother stopped in front of the trembling girl; even her lips were quivering. Shul reached out towards Rachel, and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up so that she was forced to look into his eyes of ice. These very eyes seemed to widen, as if he gained knowledge just from a glance, for Rachel quickly closed her eyes. He released her chin.
Just when he released her, Kilden ran up to punch him, but two of the Fatespeakers, the Imp and the Elf, grabbed his arms. He struggled in their grasp, yelling out to his brother how much he disliked him. Shul walked towards his angry brother, and glared at him; at the same time Kilden's angry eyes almost seemed to threaten his brother in return. He left the throne room, the door closing bringing a silence. The two Fatespeakers released their grip on Kilden, who then released a few grunted breaths before slapping his own face.
Rachel was becoming tired and fell to her knees. Kilden rushed to her side and supported her upright.
“Rachel, are you alright?” he asked. He waited for her to reply.
“I...think so,” she said. She tried to stand up, but gained a headache, and sat back on her knees.
“I'd beg to differ.” Kilden picked her up and carried her away; Lineuss dismissed the Fatespeakers.
“Put me down!” Rachel demanded. She began to kick as well, but her headache kept her from kicking or struggling too much.
“If you can't even stand, what makes you think you can walk?”
“It's just a headache!”
“But it kept you from even standing.”
“I stood up too fast. I was just dizzy.”
Kilden set her down, and knelt down next to her. He placed his hand on her forehead, and withdrew it in only a moment.
“You're headache is from lack of food. I'll get you some.” He picked her back up and continued walking to the bedroom. Upon entering the room, Kilden placed Rachel on the bed, and walked away to get the food.
“Wait,” Rachel said; Kilden stopped. “How did you know it was a hunger headache?”
“All Imps can do that. It's a natural ability we have,” he replied.
“You don't look like an imp.”
“You don't know what the difference between creatures and their rulers are, do you?”
“No, not really.”
“I'll tell you in a minute,” Kilden replied as he walked off.
Rachel looked around for something to do. Then, after finding nothing of her interest, she began to think about the journal that was in her bedroom, that she had always loved to draw in. She lied down on the bed, and then felt something heavier than what should be a blanket on her legs. Rachel sat up, and found that the journal was there. She opened it, and flipped through the pages, looking at how all of her old drawings were still there.
“They're pretty. Did you draw all of those?” Kilden asked. Rachel popped her head up to find him standing in the doorway with a tray and soup.
“How do you know what they look like? The journal just appeared here.” She quickly closed the journal and held it close to her.
Kilden placed the tray on the bed next to her. “When you fell asleep earlier, that was for a couple of hours. I didn't take us here for a while, so I took a look at that journal. It was right under that book you were reading. Then, later, I took us here.”
“How did the book appear?” Rachel asked.
“How about, instead of making you dizzy again, you eat?”
“You don't want to tell me?”
“I don't want you to pass out. Now eat, please,” Kilden said as he sat back in the chair next to the bed. He then began looking around as if embarrassed. Rachel responded by eating the soup, which she noticed was only broth, but still came to feel like it had chicken and noodles in it when placed in her mouth.
“Chicken noodle soup,” Rachel said.
“It's whatever soup fits your mood at the moment. Most foods here are like that. Even the meat will never be something you don't recognize by taste,” Kilden replied, “Obviously, you felt like you needed some chicken noodle soup. I still don't know how chickens made noodles.”
Rachel almost laughed the broth up, but managed to swallow it first.
“Two years in the Outer Dimension and you still don't have a clue about it,” Rachel mocked.
“Cat's don't pay attention to stuff like that. I had the attention span of a cat also. It gave me a strange interest in windows.” Rachel giggled.


Rachel noticed how fast the broth went away. “Now that I've eaten, you still have yet to answer my questions.”
“Which questions? There were so many. Humans must be very curious creatures.”
“First, why did my journal appear out of nowhere?”
“This place was created mostly by human thought, the rest by God. He made us, and we decided that we didn't like humans all too much somewhere along the line, and now the only way we survive is through children's stories. This place gets everything it has by human thought. You were thinking about your journal, and so it came. You are human, so it responds to your thought as well.”
“Okay, I understand that. Now, what is the difference between creatures and their rulers?”
“Ah, yes, I did promise you that I would tell you, didn't I? The difference between creatures and their rulers is the fact that we rulers, me and my brothers, are related for one, and for two, we are all human, in a way.”
“You said you were an Imp.”
“I am an Imp, but I am also human, in a matter of speaking. You see, the rulers are the Originals. I am the Original Imp, Shul is the Original Elf, etc. etc. We are the only creatures in this world that were not created by thought. That is why all Imps look different, all Elves look different, and why the Fatespeaker Leprechaun has no 'Irish Accent'.”
“Okay. I have one more question for today,” Rachel said.
“And what question is that, Rachel?” Kilden asked her.
“Why is your land disappearing, yet the others flourish? I still don't understand that.”
“It has to do with something that I don't understand.”
“Why don't you understand? Don't you know why?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, and no. I do know why my area suffers, but not why my brothers do not help me to stop it, for if my land disappears, then so do theirs.”
“That's terrible! So, why is your world disappearing?” Rachel asked.
“It's because the children's stories, have changed.”
“Changed, how?”
“The last humans to come to the Innerworld were the Brothers Grimm. They knew that as long as humans had of the existence of stories, there would also be the existence of imagination, and of us. We live by imagination. When they went back to the Outerworld, they started telling children's stories, and then our lands flourished, including this one. But, after they passed on, their stories began to change, and soon, Imps were out of the stories, except in the few that elders didn't change.”
“So, why am I here? How can I help get your land back on its feet again?”
“You Believe, and that is all that is required. You will be the next storyteller.”
“Me, make up stories? You've lost your mind. I can't even make a convincing debate! Hence the C in speech class,” Rachel argued.
“There are other candidates, but you seemed the most likely to commit to the task. It's as simple as reading aloud. Actually, that is what you will be doing mostly. We have the original stories written by the Brothers, and, if the legends hold true, you can even ask them yourself for advice.”
“Aren't they dead?”
“Legend holds that every time one of their stories is told, then more and more of their souls and memories patch together here. Nobody knows where they are, though. They say it can only be located by a human Believer. It's the same legend for other dead fantasy writers. Some creatures here think Mary Shelly is here too.”
“Mary Shelly is who, again?”
“The author of Frankenstein.”
“Wait, if she imagined the characters, and the monster, then, that means-”
“Victor is dead, the creature lives. He is raised from the dead every time someone starts the book over. The monster still lives because he never dies in the book.”
“Creepy.”
“You won't have a problem. I'll even help you find them.”
“I thought only humans could find them.”
“You'll need a bodyguard and a guide.”
“Good point. I don't know this world yet.”
“Alright then. What say you that we begin the journey tomorrow?” Kilden asked her, just then turning his head to face Rachel.
“Sure, but, why so soon?”
“Dragons awaken at dawn, and slumber at sunset.”
“Why are we suddenly talking about dragons?”
“Because they are the oldest of the originals. They know this land better than anyone else.”
“Alright. To the dragons it is.”


That's all I've got so far. I'm still working on the next chapter, but I hope yall enjoy this. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/monster.png)