Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • Coldstone Chronicles: what now


      Lifelessly, her body falls to the floor, my heart pounding even faster now. It was here, I was here. It’s been an incredible journey, but I have somehow survived. Funny how that always seems to work out, despite overbearing odds, the hero lives on.

      Catching a breath, I scoop up the Orb with both hands, pausing but a moment to admire it’s beauty, for fear of the power contained within. It looks so perfect, so inviting. Quickly I place it within my felt bag, a present from my uncle. The Tome. Gently I pick the leather bound volume up, tracing the inscription on the cover, I ponder the meaning of this strange symbol. I open the cover, carefully browsing through the pages contained within. Words, pictures, symbols, all vaguely familiar, but meaningless. Closing the cover, I survey the tower. There only seems to be one way out, so I clean my sword with her robes, take a deep breath, ready myself and step in.

      Outside. For the first time in a year, I feel relaxed. I hear the birds chirping, I notice that the sky is blue, the air clean, but thinner here in the mountains. Kneeling on the ground, I grab a handful of dirt and pour it back onto the ground using my hand as a funnel. There is a light Northern breeze, blowing the soil onto a rock. I begin to walk East, time to go home. I still feel on edge, though, like my quest is not through, I feel empty.

      What next? What does a Prefect do in an uneventful town? Should I even stay, or should I settle matters and move on. Time to camp for the night. After camp is set up, I sit by the fire and reflect upon my long journey. Why me? Was I chosen? Am I lucky? I contemplate the Orb, nervously rolling it inside the felt bag. What do I do with it? Do I hide it to prevent this from happening again? I retrieved the orb from the bag, palming it in one hand. It feels uncannily cold. Trying hard not to look, not to become drawn into it’’s power, I place the Orb back into the bag.

      Waking up the next morning, I continue my journey, but something is different. The landscape is familiar, but changed. The once well defined path seems to have grown over slightly. Perhaps I veered off course last night, I should have made camp sooner. I press on. It is an enjoyable enough day, the sky cloudy, the weather still warm. Several hours later it dawns on me that something was strange, very strange. Everything appears to be older, much older. Stopping to contemplate this, I felt an urge to retrieve the Orb from it’s bag. The Orb now has a strange glow, almost Purple.

      The birds have stopped singing, the wind doesn’t seem to blow anymore and the sky seems blacker. Against my will, I look into the Orb. The Purple seems to come from within, a milky substance flows inside the Orb and it is very cold to the touch now. Staring into the Orb, unable to pull my eyes away from it’s depths, I see forms take shape deep within, then change into another form only to dissapear. Tearing my eyes away from the Orb, I notice my heart has started beating rapidly now, my palms are sweaty, but the Orb is dry.

      The Tome. I open it’s leather bound cover, seemingly more worn than yestersday. Somehow I am able to understand the text contained within, and the diagrams and pictures appear to move. I close my eyes, the visions dance in my head. I try to force myself to close the book, but cannot. My eyes are forced open by some unseen force, my head thrust downward, nose inches from the book. I begin to read. The visions still dance inside my head, sweat begins to form on my brow and drop onto the book, but leaves no trace. I cannot believe what I am reading. I cannot fully comprehend it. I cannot look away.

      An instruction book, a map, a prophesy, a journey.

      (This message has been edited by moderator (edited 07-24-2002).)

    • Nicely written, dampeoples. Good ideas, and put together well. I just had a single gripe with it, and that was when I was editing it, the text was switching from present to past tense every second line or so. Since the majority seemed to be in present tense, I rewrote it as such. If I've done the wrong thing, feel free to repost it as an edit.

      Anyway, hope to see more of your work soon! 🙂

      -Andiyar

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      "Any good that I may do here, let me do now, for I may not pass this way again"

    • Fairly nice, dampeoples. The only thing I'd want right now would be more 'umph.' In other words, a memorable image. I'd suggest trying to make more suspense, or more conflict with the orb, as ways of doing this. Good luck, and good job.

      ------------------
      "Are you a story-teller, Thomas Covenant?"
      "I was, once."
      "And you gave it up? That is as sad a tale in three words as any you might have told me. But a life without a tale is like a sea without salt. How do you live?"
      -Stephen Donaldson