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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/362970-Run
by Trisha
Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #890683
When humans kill a fairy, his wife seeks revenge against the species. Book 1 FINISHED!
#362970 added July 31, 2005 at 4:12am
Restrictions: None
Run!
Author's Note:

Dear Faithful (& Patient) Reader,

This story has taken on a life of its own. It wants to tell itself and I'm going to let it. But that means that instead of Silver Rose being its own book, it will become the second book in a trilogy. Although I am working on the first book (tentative title: Bough of Thorns), I will finish this one before actually writing it.

I want you to know that there will be some characters in these next-last chapters that have been mentioned before, but played no major role. These characters will be pivotal, but will not take over those whose stories we are in the middle of.

Basically, the first book is set four hundred years before this one. Its about the elf Galcon DeLaney (the first monarch of Brovan from the DeLaney family) and his quest to unite the magical and non-magical worlds as they were once before. But his plans of peaceful concord are thwarted by sorcerer Lanquor Genley, who at the time, ruled Brovan. If Lanquor can't rule the worlds, he will destory them. There are many familiar faces from Silver Rose (mostly fairies) and new ones (mostly not fairies). Don't worry, it all ties in to this book.

I'd tell you the end, but you'll figure it out after reading the rest of this one. So, don't be surprised when some new faces show up. It won't be so weird once I go back and edit. But I promise to stay true to this story (this is just a make over NOT cosmetic surgery).

With that explanation out of the way--
I hope you enjoy the rest of Silver Rose.

~Trisha


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Run. Run! Marina told herself over and over. Her feet seemed to have no problem obeying. She burst through the doors that led out of Renata’s chambers. She kept running. Down the hall, down the stairs, into servants so surprised to see their princess frantically running, they didn’t even apologize as they usually did if she accidentally bumped into them. She didn’t care, and even apologized to a few them (something she’d never done before), which left them so shocked, they were disoriented the rest of the day. Unfortunately, she continued to run into everything: tables with pretty vases, statues, potted plants, more servants, guardsmen, a couple of lieutenants on their way to see her father. They tried to detain her and make her sit down, but she had to get out of the palace. They were clearly surprised when she wretched herself out of one of the men’s grasp. She apologized and turned only to run into armor that had been carefully set on a pedestal. She jumped out of the way as it the set up crashed to the floor. Apologizing again, she ran off as the lieutenants tripped over the fallen armor.

She decided the main hallway had too many people coming through it, as she saw three ladies walking toward her. As one called out to her, she ducked into a narrower hall on the left. She kept running. Past open doors full of useless rooms, past bright tapestries that were being hung to keep out the winter chill, past boys who were lighting the torches as the palace darkened with the coming of night. She ran down long stairways that led to other long stairways, through doors that led to other doors, through halls that led to other halls. Until she finally burst through a door that led to the place she wanted to be—outdoors! She took in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. Thank God, finally! Then she lifted her skirts in a most unladylike way, and sprinted across the palace grounds. Colorful leaves crunched under her feet. The wind blew at her back giving her body the fuel to go even faster. She went across a wide bridge that led away from the palace. She ran over the well-cut lawn, past one of the gardens, over more lawn dotted with white benches, fountains, and statues. Then she turned to her right, away from the orchids, and crossed another bridge, which led to a gravel path lined with tall old trees. These trees had almost no leaves and what was left of the fading sun trickled through the empty branches lighting her path.

She slowed her run to a jog. She let the winding path led her. All of the sudden the trees stopped and so did she. She was there. Her chest hurt, she bent over trying to catch her breath. She still breathed heavily, when she began taking a few steps. Her legs wobbled, but she forced herself to walk. She didn’t think about it, her feet knew exactly where to go. They instinctively walked around the circle. She didn’t even read the names of those she passed in the outer circle as she usually did. She did stop at her grandfather, then her grandmother, and her father’s sister. She crossed herself, brushed the dead leaves off their marble grave markers, said a prayer for the dead, and kissed the freezing cold marble. After paying her respect to her elders, she moved on to the one she’d come for. A few seconds later, she collapsed on top of her mother’s grave.
© Copyright 2005 Trisha (UN: sharnises at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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