Well hello there boys and girls. It is 7 o’clock New Zealand Standard Time and I have not written a single word this week. Basically it’s all because my job has put me through a nice little training course that lasted the whole week and I have been finishing around this time everyday.
Of course this has also left me extremely exhausted mentally so I don’t really have the power to write a significant blog post. So I will leave you with a small excerpt from another story that i put on the back burner a long time ago. I hope you enjoy.
She walked through the Gruetal Marsh, the final resting place of the soldiers who died in the Necromatic Silencing. Her aura filled the air, darkening it, filling it with a dark pastel-blue fog. Moving slowly, her bare feet squelched in the mud, her dress, once a stunning purple ball dress with all the trimmings. Now a muddy wreck, it used to have one sleeve on the left side, the right arm and shoulder exposed, currently it had no sleeves, both arms exposed to the cold swamp air. The silk and cotton fabric used to flow all the way down to her ankles, almost sweeping the floor as she danced in the ballroom. She ripped off the bottom up to the knees as she started to enter the mud and water. That piece of fabric now flying on the wind soaked in her own neck blood. She made very cautious steps over the logs and large furry corpses. As she moved into a small clearing she remembered flashes of the previous night.
The yellow light shimmering on the the silk gowns, girls twirling to the music. Rare wines and cheeses floating along on the suspended serving dishes. Men in fine military uniform dancing alongside the girls. She caught a man staring at her from across the room. His face handsome and smooth yet rugged from the years of service. His long dark hair, swept to the side like the rest of the gentlemen there, had some grey gently pushed through. He clearly had many years on her but at the time she did not mind. Now when she imagines his face she is instantly repulsed and her hands shake with terror. “What’s that all about?” her voice was muffled and weak from the dehydration and healing neck wound. She thought her guesses were pretty close based on her current predicament. Her next step was heavier than it was supposed to be making her foot sink into the ground, the mud cuddled her entire shin. She attempted to pull it out but the mud had already tightened around her ankle. Looking down at it with disdain her first thought was to cut it off, she decided against it when she realized that dealing with the wound appropriately would leave her naked. She spotted a log within reach and went to grab it.
Ever since she could remember she had wanted to go to a fine ball. Being Sir Eldersteern’s ward had prepared her to be a fine lady, pampered by maids everyday. Kept away from kids her own age, kept away from almost everyone in fact had conditioned her to be very strong by herself and easily impressed by the feats of others. Although she remembered a day when she had finally met some new people. The maidservant supposed to be watching her had fallen asleep so without supervision she sneaked out the front gates of the mansion. Her small boots crunching along the stone path. Soon she came across some other children around her age, they seemed to like playing with her at first, running around chasing each other. Until a boy, bigger and more confident than the rest seeming to be the leader, asked her where she lived and who her parents were. After she told them their once cheerful faces became solemn and cold their cheers turned to shouts and their playful chasing turned to stone throwing. “Necrophile! You won’t take our bodies!”
She sat on the log. ‘why did i just remember that?’ she wriggled her foot from side to side attempting to loosen the mud around it. She knew it might take a while, but she didn’t exactly have anywhere to be.