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Welcome to my blog, brought into existence because I believe in the power of stories. I hope you'll find a few things you like here. Let me know what you think and leave me any verdict, suggestion, challenge or request you want.


Happy readings!
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Faery, part II (epic fantasy novel excerpt)

Part 1: http://storiesinc.blogspot.com/2011/10/faery-part-i-epic-fantasy-novel-excerpt.html



II
“Wait, wait, little bird!”
She cried after it, but it kept speeding up. Not once taking her eyes of the curious birdie, she chased it across a meadow full of fragrant flowers. The little bonnet slid from her head and unleashed a wild abundance curls. Running and crawling through the field, her fancy black varnished shoes slipped off in the high grass and green smudges formed on her freshly-washed Sunday dress. Smeared with grass and dirt, the child ran as fast as her bare feet could carry her and reached for the creature. Finally, she managed to poke it with a fingertip and startled. It was so warm.

Faery, part I (epic fantasy novel excerpt)



On a Sunday stroll through the park, an exuberant young lass finds herself drawn into the Land of the Fairies.
In this world of magic, Macy is swept up in an epic quest that will determine the fates of the fairy world as well as her own.
On this journey, she and her friends will have to pass numerous tests and discover as well as surpass their own limits in order to literally save the day.


Friday, 29 July 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Resolve


“I want to know what’s up there!”, she had hissed through clenched teeth. She just couldn’t understand why Ann didn’t want to support her theory that someone in the house attacked Julian. “Who?” She asked. “I don’t know.” She replied, acknowledging her partial defeat against her will. Why did she feel like she’d already lost the debate?
“Of course you don’t. Why and how, Eliza? Why would anyone do that, especially Henry and Hawkins.”
“I don’t know.”

Saturday, 23 July 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 7



Chapter 7 – Attack


Being in the depressing mansion did not seem to lower Ann’s spirits at all. On the contrary, Ann woke up more cheerful every morning. Eliza wondered why the castle had no such effect on herself. Her friend seemed more at home in it than she did.

Saturday, 16 July 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 6





Chapter 6 – The sleepover


The singing of the birds, the rushing and rustling of the leaves in the wind made her more at ease. A chilly breeze soothed her skin as she made her way up the hill. Nevertheless, she was reluctant to go back to that house. It seemed even more of a cage now she had been out with the free birds. She shrugged slightly and went in.

Friday, 8 July 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – the encounter


She held two tops up and tried to determine which to wear.
“What do you think?”, she asked Ann.
“They’re both black.”, Ann replied with a quick glance while reading a fashion magazine on the bed now her schoolwork was done.
“Maybe that’s just the colour of my soul.”, Eliza said mockingly.
“As if!” Ann laughed while Eliza dodged the pillow aimed at her.
They laughed aloud and dropped down on the bed to listen to some music. Ann turned the volume up a few notches. “Nothing like some party music to get into the mood.”
“Right.” The first party in months! Eliza only wished she actually wanted to go. Perhaps she just hadn’t digested all the ghost stories yet, even though she liked a good dose of horror. It does make a difference if it’s set in some distant movie studio or in your own house... But she was resolved on enjoying herself, on command if she had to, for Ann’s sake and for her own.

Saturday, 25 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 4


Chapter 4 – The alliance


She banged the door shot and sighed. Another week gone by with nothing in it for her but school, reading, sleeping and more school. The “village” was a bore, she knew hardly anyone in it and she could forget about diversion in her explorations as well, since the attic was guarded continually by Henry and his watchdog by the time she got home.

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 3


 



 



Chapter 3 – the village
Si sta come
D’autunno
Sugli alberi
Le foglie
(“ One is/as in autumn/on the trees/the leaves”, ‘soldati’/’soldiers’ by Giuseppe Ungaretti, translation as found in Harrison, ‘dominion of the dead’, p. 125)


Her eyes flung wide open. It took her a minute to realize that she was staring at the ceiling and then another to recognize the annoying beep in the background as the alarm clock. She turned to look daggers at it, but as the thing refused to explode she extended her arm to the fullest to reach it. No more denying it was already morning...

Saturday, 18 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel): chapter 2


Chapter 2 – The attic
She startled and woke from the depths of sleep at midnight. What had woken her? She could have sworn she felt... It was storming, of course.
No wonder she couldn’t sleep. The winds were no soft whisper like home, they roared and howled and made the walls whistle and the floors creak. For a moment she doubted the strength of the bricks that were her shelter, but they had sheltered others for hundreds of years.
Still, the cracking and squeaking kept her from going back to her sweet slumber. Or had it been sweet at all? The imprint of the dream was already gone. She rose and strolled towards the window. It was pouring, rain pattered the glass with a merciless vigour. Thunder seemed creepily close by and so did the forked lightning that tormented the land below her dark ivory tower.
Even the fierceness of nature has its splendour. Yet there was a restlessness outside which caught on and stirred up her inner agitation. She felt trapped. At least the tempest was free, a privilege she had not. She fixed her eye on the horizon instinctively, but what was that to her? Where would she go? To view another skyline and long for that one. The horizon was a myth, though a lovely one.
She picked up a random volume from the pile of books on her desk, something to clean up in the morning, and opened it at an arbitrary page.

Friday, 17 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Intermezzo chapter 1-2 (first dream sequence)


A thick fog surrounds me. I don’t know where it comes from, smoke seems to whirl up from every side. It wells up from below my feet, from the walls, the ceiling, it’s choking me!
I stumble to the door, it has to be here, how many steps have it been? I can’t find it. It’s damp in my mouth, my throat. I’m coughing, but every gasp brings in more mist and no air. My lungs fill up with dew, it feels like drowning.
I can’t see. Where am I? I reach and hold my hands out like a blind person, but the room is empty. Help! I shout as loud as I can, but there’s no reply. Help! Can’t anybody hear me? Please! My desperate calls echo in the silence and are then swallowed by the nowhere around. I’m all alone.
Slowly, the mist lifts a little. I start to discern vague contours. There is something rectangular ahead of me, I can see it shimmer in the distance, as if it is beckoning me to it.
I creep closer, is it a door, a portal? I can only see the same thick white mist ahead of me as I leave it behind, like I’m walking on clouds. I crash into something hard and touch my forehead. It hurts.
I feel the cool glass as it dawns on me; I can’t see my own face in the mirror.
A pale hand, white and cold as the fog, forms out of the glass and two cold fingers touch my temples and caress the side of my face along the cheekbones.
I gasp.

Tuesday, 14 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Chapter 1




CHAPTER 1 – The Castle/New Beginnings
“In the middle of our life’s path I found myself in a dark forest, where the straight way was lost.”
Dante, Inferno, Canto I, verse 1-3


She looked up at the thing looming high before her and shivered. It was nothing like she had expected, it was worse, much worse. The same look was in her brother’s eyes. She clasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, with as consoling a smile as she could possibly muster. With a heavy heart, they mounted the hill.

Saturday, 11 June 2011

The Black Rose (novel) : Prelude

This one is another unfinished project I've been working on since I was about fifteen and that I never got around to finish. It was a bit too much to handle with my skill at the time, so I could start the novel, but I couldn't push through the challenging bits. I've been reworking it (with long, sometimes year-long lapses, like the one since I lost rewrote it, long before I came to blogger) ever since.

It's pretty low on the to do list for the time being (the things on there always shift about, depending on the circumstances, I'm afraid I have no control whatsoever over that), so I won't be making it more decent anytime soon, but I decided - very much against previous incentives - to post it. Especially since I'm too busy to get a lot of short stories up during the exams. I'll schedule the parts I've got (which is at least 80 pages or so), one a week. I don't think I'm going to read over them first and bear in mind that they're imperfect drafts, but what I'd like is for you to tell me what you didn't like about it. I'm aware of the flaws, especially that it gets pretty long-winded at times and that the whole could and should be smoothed out considerably - a legacy from its early birth, I guess - but I'd like to map out just when, where and why it spins off, so I can take it into account while rewriting it, when I get around to it.

I wasn't keen on sharing this. I don't think I ever even thought of putting it up, until today, all of a sudden, so here's the first part. Enjoy!

Friday, 20 May 2011

Episode 6 - The Black Earring (encore: 'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned')

The Black Earring (Episode 6)
I paced around the empty room. The lights were out, a pale ghostly shine falling from the hall through the open door. It made the chairs into faded silhouettes. It was quiet. Unusually quiet. Normally at this hour, student-musicians were practicing their symphonies in the adjacent music rooms, which is my I even bother coming here in the first place, but not today. I turned to the shadows of the corner. The piano stood abandoned but with dignity in its smooth blackness. I caressed its keys longingly. Such a pity I never learned.
I ambled on, a final glance at the Steinway, in between the desk, the surface was dusty, and the blackboard, going over the lecture words forgotten on the canvas and lost in the green wilderness that was empty. ‘Antigone’ it said, with proud, hastily crooked letters, the first almost entirely wiped out by the lecturer’s fervent hand. Must have been interesting.
A glimmer in the dark caught my eye, next to the control panel for the auditory on the floor. It must’ve been a piece of equipment one of the students broke, a wire of sorts. I passed it, stopped, passed it again, retraced my steps and picked it up. It was an earring of coal with all the glimmer of diamonds, four ovals full of facets piled on top of each other, the lower always bigger than the next. I brought it up to the light of the hall and watched it sparkle.
And then stepped forward from the dark a creature fair with grace and ease. Emanating danger like a flame I was strapped to the wings of moths, unable to fly. She stood patiently, invitingly and smiled.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice an echo that seemed strange to me in the void.
She smiled benignly and stepped closer.
“My name?” She said with a melodic voice that ringed with something foreign, a tone I’d only heard before in dreams of spring and dew and fairy bells. She strode elegantly around me in a circle and whispered in my ear. It made my head light and empty and filled it instead with the fragrance of midnight flowers and dewed green. “Most call me Luna.” She traced a finger along my shoulder bones and let out an amused chuckle. I slipped into the touch complacently and watched her every step. “Others Artemis, Diana, Hekate,...” She took a step back suggesting infinity with the mere casualness of her nimble lily hand. “I have so many names.” She smirked. “None really matter.”
With a melancholy expression, she slid through the shadows shining bright like the moon, a radiant beauty of silver shackled to the earth and doomed to forever more mourn the loss of flight, her crippled hoary wings hanging limp over her long snow-white gown of Greek folding. She returned my stare with a knowing smile, shrouding in mystery like she knew of some secret by grace of which she held me ensnared. And she did. I stood motionless, powerless, eagerly taking it all in. She threw me a predatory gaze, pleased like a kitten with her catch.
It felt as though there was no roof, no walls, only earth, water and sky overhead, a distant scent of sultry fire smouldering and suddenly the empty chairs were like the forest, the trees from which they came, and the night a deeper, thicker black than I had ever seen before.
She held out her hand. I returned the earring to her. She beamed graciously.
“Tell me, my sun-kissed child, have you ever wondered what it would feel like to catch the moon in your bare hands?” She said in that magnetic tone of hers and beckoned. I hesitated, but to her nodding encouragement, I rushed ahead and stepped eagerly into her embrace, content to perish in her arms. She gave a kiss so powerful it could rip a life away and licked the blood that oozed from my lips and left the taste of magic.
Then in a flash of bluish pure white light, the world had disappeared.

Author’s note
Goal: I trying to master a certain type of writing that’ll be important in later parts of the Svart-cycle, heavy on mood, touch and insinuation, something sultry and at the verge of being passionate.
In fact, I think I’m going to add this one as a dream (that can be attributed both to Darius and Alice) in that cycle (which is why I labelled it ‘episode’), I just don’t know what the best place to fit it in is yet. Most likely after the next episode.
Anecdote about the coming to be of this story
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned!
(no, I’m not that religious, and yes, I just stole that from ‘Coyote Ugly’)
I’ve stolen things before, sometimes for no urgent or apparent reason and often with no or little trace of remorse afterwards, but now it finally happened; for the first time, I committed theft for Art.
It isn’t quite that spectacular, especially not after how I made it sound in the introduction; last night I had some time before the next bus home. There’s an auditory I like to go to at times like that, I don’t really know why, probably out of nostalgia and to look for inspiration (there usually are musicians playing music that I’ve never heard before, and that you never hear on the radio, which is like the Fort Knox of inspiration for me). Anyway, the part of the story up to the picking up of earring, I just plucked out of my own experience. I picked the thing up and put on the table, so the owner would find it there the next day. However, I paced over and over, picked it up again, laid it back, scribbled some notes for the story, picked it up again... It just wouldn’t let me go and I felt like I needed to have it with me for the story. Having lost stuff before myself however, I kind of sympathise with whoever’s missing it. But, when it was time to go and I was at the door, I couldn’t go, so I went back, snatched the thing up and then I actually took it with me. It’s here next to me on the table right now as I’m typing this. I know, I KNOW, I feel horrible...
Anyway, in my defence, I do intend to put it back first thing on Monday though. Or after the book (but that would mean never...). So my intention was just to borrow rather than steal it from the start.
So, let’s make this thing interactive; what’s the worst thing you ever did for Art (or some other important Goal)? I’d love to know, please leave a relevant comment below.
(I’ll try to add a picture of the legendary earring. I suppose it’s rather plain in itself, but still, the way I found it, glimmering in complete darkness and all, it was just gripping)

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Episode 5 - Fallen Order


Fallen Order
There was a rumble in the distance, an earthquake or a thunderstorm. It made the ground below them quiver.
“What’s that?” Michael asked panicky.
“I don’t know.” She replied thoughtful, a sense of worry encroaching on her. It would not go away. “Are you going to be okay?” He nodded. She handed him over to another friend to support him. “You guys go straight home, alright?”
She turned around.
“Wait, where are you going?” He pulled her back.
She looked at him briefly and turned in the direction of the Order headquarters. “I have to go somewhere, check on something.” She hoped so desperately that she was wrong.
“Alice!” He cried after her. She ran off, into the darkness.
Just a block away from the club a desolate ghost world began. A blooming part of town just a few hours before, now had more likeness to a post-war wasteland. No lanterns were lit, a few flickered and went out with a pop. It sent shivers down her spine. The streets were empty, the shops deserted. They showed signs of struggle. Trash cans were kicked over, their insides spilled across the sidewalks, a few doors hung wobbly from their hinges, cars were scratched and dented, the shoes of their yanked out drivers left behind on the road. Something crunched. She looked down at the broken glass from cracked windows beneath her feet. Svarts raided here as well.
She strode through the lane, on her guard, the only sounds her own. Her heels were too loud on the pavement and her feet were killing her. She took the shoes off and tiptoed crouching through the streets barefoot – carefully across the debris – clinging to the walls and staying in the shadows. She bit her lip. A squadron of Svart troops passed by, she pressed against the damp side of a corner and held her breath, waiting for them to march on and rubbing a hand over her queasy stomach. She had a bad feeling.
They stamped on in rows of two, blabbering and laughing, the sound of their military boots trapped, echoing back and forth between the high brick walls of the alley. What were they up to? And why hadn’t she met a single knight around? Where were the others?
Once they were gone, she crossed the street and looked around the bend. All clear. Nervously, she broke into a sprint.
There it was, the street. She slowed down, coughing. The air was thick with dust, everything was grey and it was so unusually, so deafeningly quiet and empty. And then she saw it.
With a sigh as if her last breath was squeezed out of her, she sunk to the ground. She’d been right. It had happened. Before her lay the pile of rubble that was once their tall, proud office.
She got up and plummeted headfirst into the smouldering wreckage. A few bits of wall were still upright, their characteristic iron bars sticking out like fish-bones.
“No!” On her knees she clawed into the ruins to look for life, for bodies, anything among the ash and stone, but two arms clenched firmly around her. She pushed him away. “Let go, we have to...”
“Alice, don’t!” A soft voice whispered, resolutely helping her up. “You can’t help them, it’s too late.”
She looked at him, in tears, exasperated. “Uncle, what happened?”
He held her close. “The building, they blew it up, my child.”
She struggled against him to go back, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, Alice, it’s not safe.” There was a distant thudding on the ground, she paid it no mind. “We have to go, they’re coming.”
She looked in the direction of the marching sound. “I don’t care. Some may have survived. We have to get them out.”
He clenched her wrists and made her look at him as he articulated the words carefully. “None survived, Alice.” He pulled his hair with a frustrated wave of his hand. “The collapse was just a cover-up, they gassed them first, there was a leak and...” He puffed. “No one even noticed what was happening.” He scuffed his foot over the concrete, unable to look her in the eyes. “I was just outside in the garden, I saw the whole thing through the glass door. Once it got through to me what was wrong, I rushed in, but it was already too late.”
 “No! No!” She moaned, pulling her hair.
“Alice, please, we have to leave.” He said desperately. “If they spot us...”
“No, no, I won’t go.” She wiggled around for a way out of his grasp and back into the rubble, but he tightened his grip. He dragged her back into an alley and clasped his hand firmly over her mouth and his arm around her waist. She struggled like crazy and uttered suppressed screams, but he did not let go.
“Shht!” He whispered in her ear. “Be quiet. They can’t find us. You owe them that.”
She calmed down and nodded, so incredibly tired and so she hung limp in his grasp, watching through dulled eyes with tears pouring down as a dozen of the Svart task force went through the rubbish. They were looking for something, kicking rocks aside like it mattered nothing, be it stone or flesh.
“Captain!” One of them cried. Three of his companions rushed in to help and they shoved boulders until one pulled out the prize from its unbreakable titanium container in the ground where the front desk had been.
“The security system.” She whispered. “What do they want with that?”



Author's note: hi there, hope you're enjoying the novel. I know I sure love writing it. However, there might be slow progression with the project for the next month or so. The last weeks have been terribly busy, next week will be worse and after that, it's examination time again till end of July, and you probably know how that turned out last time... Yes, disastrous. So, be warned. It's very frustrating, because now I have to delay getting Alice to the point and place where it really starts getting exciting, I'm anxious to get there, which results in not rewriting each separate chapter for a hundred times over before posting. Sorry.

Enjoy.

Wednesday, 4 May 2011

Episode 4 - The raid

Also see: Episode 1 (chronologically a much later part in the story) - Episode 2 (start) - Episode 3

The raid
She nipped her drink by the bar and watched the others dancing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something made her feel very nervous. Maybe it was just that she could not shake the truth. She was the only one around who knew what was going on, what was going to happen, that everyone in the club was really in danger.
She held onto the bar to steady herself against the upcoming faintness and took a deep breath.
“Come on, girl.” She muttered to herself, downing the drink in one gulp. “You can do this. Just think of it as a game.” Looking back, her friend Michael was waving at her, motioning to come back already. She forced her lips into a convincing smile and set her foot forward to make her way back to her group on the dance floor.
Then a loud noise drowned out the music and froze her in her tracks. The sturdy door caved in. A squad of soldiers in all black suits, helmets and machine guns stormed through the gaping hole screaming ‘move, move!’
The DJ stopped playing, people stepped aside. She stumbled back into the bar. The place had a reputation for drug dealing, was it a raid?
They fired five warning shots in the dark, they lit up and echoed loud through the silence. This wasn’t a raid. Glass breaking, people screaming, scattering into the corners, tugging at each other and the horrible sound of so many heavy boots stamping along the floor after them. “Everybody out!” The commander yelled and they went about grabbing at arms, shoulders, elbows, pulling at hair and motioning the guests onward with their guns. Alice saw one haul Michael over the floor, thick with broken glass, by his clothes and rushed to help him.
“You’re hurting him!” She prised the man’s claw open, allowing Michael to scramble up, rubbing his sores. The soldier pushed her away so hard she fell backwards and took off his helmet. As soon as she saw his curiously gleaming eyes, she knew this wasn’t a raid but an invasion. They were Svarts. She gasped.
“Go home!” He spat at her and clutched the next victim. Michael helped her up.
“Michael, you’re limping.”
“It’s nothing, let’s just get out of here.”
Leaning on each other, they got out. The streets were full of Svart troops, going door to door in public places, hurling everybody out.
“What the hell are they doing?” Michael asked her, coughing.
Alice watched them for a moment. As it turned out, they hadn’t paused. Either that, or enough of them were already here in the first place. They had been fooled. “Establishing a curfew.” She said, feeling as if all life had drained out of her. “They’re taking over the city.” She looked up at the horizon. It would be many hours until the break of day. She should go look for the other knights and round them up for battle.
With a sigh, she whispered to herself. “So it begins.”
And that was the day they invaded our world.

(video that has a lot of screaming in it, but parts of it might give you a good idea of what is going on in this episode, so it is kind of appropriate and may have influenced this part of the story in a latent fashion)

Saturday, 30 April 2011

Episode 3 - Through the glass


Progress Report (not really relevant, if you're just here for the story, please skip to 'read more' at the bottom of the page ;) )

Here's the next part, which comes immediately after episode 2 (since now I know where to start with it all it's a bit easier to be more coherent, for the time being). Sorry this had some delay. I was nearly finished last weekend, and then my computer shut down suddenly and the whole Svart file had DISAPPEARED... That's like a writer's worst nightmare. Strangely, once I got over the shock and saw clearly, I realized it wasn't that bad and I got to see my personal calamity as a blessing in disguise. I was really spinning the chapter out too long, getting carried away and just basically messing everything up, so being forced to start over entirely was the best thing that could happen - I don't really have the heart to 'kill my darlings', I guess my comuter felt sorry and decided to do it for me. That part did get better, I think, more concise (which isn't really my thing, unfortunately, I could take some classes on brevity). AND, it's also a case of Serendipity (always wanted to use that word) since thanks to Bagle's handy tips on file recovery (thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!), I found a back-up of 9 out of 12 pages of a book I was working on just before I joined Blogger. The file got corrupted very badly, so I couldn't open it and I still haven't been able to gather up the strength to start over, since it would never be the same and  didn't feel it needed improvement like Svart did. So it just sucked. But now I have the crucial parts back and can pick up where I left off anytime :). I'd post some of it, but it's in Dutch, so, sorry...

And after that, I got sick and I was exhausted for a couple of days after school work, so I couldn't find the strength to write, specially since it meant starting over from scratch (luckily I'd already posted the first chapter, so I at least had a backup of that one). Instead, I did quite some fairy research, some useful stuff turned up which I hope to integrated in future parts (though most of it was suitable for Macy's world rather than Alice's and some of me just confused me or confronted me with my own lack of originality where I thought I WAS being original, which sucks).

Anyway, here is part 2 and part 3 is also done - it on the short side through, 2,5 pages - I'll schedule it for some time next week. Probably Wednesday. I do have to say I'm not entirely okay with this part and the next one yet, but there sort of a rough outline, a first draft. I'm just trying to get from point A to B as fast as possible and then I'll see from there when I'm done so I can rewrite it in the end. Oh, and the titles are pretty random now. The themes they refer to aren't always there yet or emphasized enough. I may call the novel '(The) Nightingale. Chronicles of a revolution' or something like that.

On a more cheerful note, I noticed that readership for the blod - followers but especially page views - have rocketed *dances around like a retard yelling 'whoohoo!'*, so I just want to give a big welcome to all of you who are a new and another big thank you for sticking with me despite all the craziness and irregularity lately to all the regulars. I really appreciate having you guys here giving me advice, I really really really do. I know I haven't been responding to all comments, but I will in due time. Circumstances are making it hard enough to keep up with posting the best I can, so I kind of have to 'eliminate' everything else.

/delay. Onto the story...

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Episode 2 - The Eve Of Battle



Another novel start, it is getting hard to keep up. I don’t know where to place this exactly, but it may very well be the start of the episode cycle. It is meant to be a little mysterious and vague. It is the onset of a novel, after all, so it has to keep you guessing at the whole story. Song that brought this writing spree on:

I heard it again and got flashes of scenes like this, the other ‘episode’ bits and other parts I didn’t know about before. Hope you enjoy it ;)

Sunday, 28 November 2010

Notebook: a tale of four brothers (short story) - Update

Notebook: a tale of four brothers
Introduction
This is an idea I’ve been playing around with for at least some years now. I (semi-)specialised in (mainly Dutch) mediaeval literature during my training, so I’ve read my share of rhyming middle-Dutch romances with knights in them. When I read too many of them, this came pouring out. Especially the rhyming bits were inspired by it and so was the general ‘quest’ and the highly present narrator-figure, but I couldn’t string everything together and make out a beginning and an end. Now I might’ve. It’s already more of a series and who knows, maybe it’ll turn into a novel in the end.
I gave it a provisional title, because I had to call it something, but I might change my mind on that later. This is just a first draft so it may alter greatly. Let me know what you think and feedback and/or suggestions are very welcome. I guess I’ll adapt and expand as I go.
(note: this is the once updated version. I took out some spelling mistakes and, considering the helpful comments of Diego Green and Timothy, made an effort to distinguish between the siblings more consistently. Their character is to be developed a bit more in later parts, at least that is my intention. Hope you like it and leave any kind of constructive comments below. Thanks in advance)



PART 1: broken commandments
“A book is a mirror. When a monkey looks in, no apostle can look out.”
Georg Lichtenberg



“Don’t!”
“Oh, please, don’t be ridiculous, Michael.”
“Yeah, it’s just a book, for God’s sakes.”
“You know we’re not supposed to be up here.” The boy replied. “What if they find out?”
“No one is going to find out, you chicken and even if they do, it’s not like we’re wrecking things. There’s nothing else we can do with that bloody rain.”
“Dad will be angry!”
“So, I’ll tell them we made you come, now quit being such a pain and give me that book!”
Reluctantly, the boy let go of his clenched treasure, which immediately passed into three sets of hands at once.
As soon as they touched it, Michael saw a flash of gold appear on the cover.
“What’s that?”
It were apparently letters. In a shaky voice, he read aloud:
Reader, behold!
Another world, shall soon unfold...
“Let go of that book! It’s evil!”
“Did you fall down and hit your head?!”
“I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with it, look!”
“Look where, nutcase?”
“The letters, on the cover, they weren’t there before!”
“What letters? There’s nothing on the cover.”
He showed him the front of the book. It was blank.
“I don’t understand, I...”
“Nice try, kiddo!” The second youngest brother replied.
“I think he finally snapped, Edward.” His by five minutes older twin George added, dryly.
“Perhaps he just wants some attention.” The oldest sibling briskly ran through his younger brother’s hair.
“There, there, boy.”
“Cut it out, I’m not a dog, Robert!”
Robert clutched the book. He wiped the cobwebs off the cover and eagerly opened the volume. The three elder brothers coughed in the cloud of dust.
As soon as the manuscript lay open, a beam of violently bright light emerged from the pages to blind the siblings. They covered their eyes, but it burned through their eyelids. When they opened them, all had changed.
Michael got up from his squatting position and looked around in the filthy attic. They were gone! The book was on the floor, open, and his siblings had vanished.
“Robert? George! It’s not funny guys, come out? Edward, I know you’re in here!”
It wasn’t a joke. They had really disappeared. Confused, he staggered towards the manuscript and picked it up. The minute his fingertips touched its cover, it was as if a lightning bolt went through him. Electricity flowed into his body and he could feel smoke whirl up from his skin, his ears, his hair. In that instance, he ceased to be ‘Michael’ and became ‘Narrator’.
“Michael? Michael!” Three frightened voices called out from the book. The boy snapped out of his daze and answered.
“I’m right here!”
“Where?”
“In the attic, where else?”
“We can’t see you, you idiot. We’re in the damn book!”
“And we’re dressed like bloody knights!” Edward exclaimed.
“In the book?! How the hell can you be in the book?”
“How should we know? The darn thing’s got a spell on it or something.”
“But you can hear me?”
“YEAH. Get us out!”
“How could I possibly...”
“Well, what does the book say?”
“Good thinking.”
He went through the pages.
“Th... There’s nothing there, it’s empty!” He cried out.
What?”
“Wait, something comes up.” A black spot swelled on the page and formed into words, then sentences.
For the three to re-ascend,
the tale be spun until the end
“What is that supposed to mean?” Edward yelled.
“I think the book wants us to finish the story.” George replied pensively.
“What story? You heard Michael. There’s no text. We’re stuck here!”
“Guys! Use your brains and shut your waffles, will you?” Robert intervened. “Now why is Michael still up there, when we’re here?”
“He wasn’t touching the book.” George pondered.
“Yes, but that’s not all. The light was everywhere, it dragged us in here. There must be a reason for Michael to have stayed behind. I’m sure he can get us back. He’s our only link left to the real world.”
Robert took a few steps forward and cried up to the sky.
“Michael? Michael, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Robert, I can hear you, you don’t have to shout.”
“Micky, make up a tale to bring us home.”
“Okay, just a sec, uh... Three boys were taken in the book and... then they came back out.”
“Very good.”
“Nothing’s happening.”
“Why are we still here?”
“Think back to what the book said... Ah, that’s it. Michael, you have to make it rhyme.”
“Rhyme?”
“Just do it. Everything else rhymed.”
“Okay, I’ll give it a try. Let me see... What does the book-world look like.”
They were standing in a green pasture. Peaceful breeze played with the longer blades of grass. Birds were singing.
“Uh... Like a meadow. There’s really nothing special to see here.”
All of a sudden Robert noticed George on his knees in the grass, pushing his glasses up and mumbling to himself.
“It’s just impossible.” He picked some blades of grass and smelled them, feeling around. “It defies all reason. Maybe we fell asleep.”
“Three or four people, dreaming the same thing?” Robert raised an eyebrow and picked up a small pebble. “Dream this!”
“Aw!”
“Hurt, didn’t it? So far for your theory. Now get your ass over here!”
George fidgeted with his spectacles. He was nervous, straining his brain to make sense of the situation.
“We’re ready for you, Michael.”
 “Alright, let’s see... How’s this? The three boys, their lesson learned, to their home then returned.”
The pages from the book lit up as Michael scribbled the words into it.
“Michael, I think it’s working!”
Then Michael spoke again. Something came over him and settled like a white film over his eyes. His voice resonated through the alternate world, with a distinctive echo of another, speaking in chorus with him.
When fulfilled, they shall return,
first their lesson, they must learn.
“Michael, what the hell are you doing?!”
“It’s not me doing it, I swear! It’s like my lips move on their own.”
“Get a grip, will you?” Edward yelled.
“Stop harassing the boy, Edward, you heard him, didn’t you? It’s not his fault. He’s just as enchanted as we are.”
“George has a point, Edward.” Robert scanned the sloping land. “We may want to look around. We don’t know how long we’ll be down here, so we’ll need some place to stay when it gets dark.”
The trio made off. They soon came across a path.
“Maybe if we follow this, we’ll find a village or a house or something.”
The path quickly turned into a road, but still there was no person in sight and not a single building. After at least half an hour of walking, and wining on the part of the youngest boy who was not at all accustomed to hikes, they heard the sound of running water. They came across a mighty river.
“Oh, just great! Now how are we going to cross that?”
“Well, the current’s too strong to swim.”
“Let’s go looking. There must be a bridge somewhere. Hey, Michael, rhyme us a way to get to the other side.”
The siblings crossed plain and mound
till at long last, a bridge was found
“How’s that?”
“Brilliant, thanks, sport.”
Barely had they put a single foot on the bridge, when a deep voice bellowed.
“Who dares cross my bridge.” From the heavens, the narrator’s voice again resounded.
But for this bridge, there was a guard
who many knight before had marred.
With fists as rocks
he slaughtered flocks
of soldiers strong and brave
who to defeat him, crave.
“I don’t like the looks of this! Let’s get out of here quickly, before that guard shows up. We can just make it.”
“And what’s up with this guy’s grammar. Is he spastic?”
“Edward, do not, insult, the narrator...”
Be Robert’s attempt great,
to not insult, it is too late.
“Oh, crap, here we go, thanks a lot, Edward.”
The bridge started to pound under the feet of something big coming their way.
“God, I hope that’s just an earth-quake.”
And there they met a Dilgemesh,
a creature large and frightening,
who had a taste for human flesh,
and was as fast as lightening.
And there it was, stomping across the wooden overpass. It was at least six feet seven tall and two men wide, hairy and muscular, with filthy brown manes falling all the way down to the waist. Three eyes, it had and was a horror to behold.
“MICHAEL!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying, don’t push me!”
“We’re getting eaten down here!”
“Alright, alright, how’s this:
The Dilgemesh, the prince well knew,
is the weakest thing in all of Grover,
it would simply tipple over
if you but blew in its third eye,
so surely, it would die.
“Oh great, how could we possibly get to its eye?”
“Think fast, George, you’re the brainy one.”
“And where the hell is Grover?”
“You’re in it, Edward! I named it the land of Grover, it was the first name I could think of that rhymed.”
A small crown fell from the sky and landed before their feet.
“The prince has to do it.”
“Who’s the prince?”
“I don’t want to be the prince, not if I’d have to go fight that! Here, George, you take it.”
“What, me? Robert is the oldest, let him take it.”
“Fine! I’ll do it! It’s only fair.” Robert said.
The other two looked at him dumbfounded.
“What, are you mad? It will maul you!”
“Thanks for the confidence, guys. It warms my heart.”
“Well, it was good knowing ya.”
Robert took a deep breath and prepared to go into battle with the much larger creature that was coming their way. Edward grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. He was relieved.
“Robert?”
“Yes?”
“Can I have your CD’s?”
Annoyed, he jerked free.
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