Untitled as yet.

[coyleys]

Hi everyone, in accordance with Mantas request, (Changes to the writers group, number 3 & 4) I have only gone back to my last two entry’s, sorry, it will have to be just this one, as the story “The Unreliable Narrator” exceeds the character limit,but if anyone want to see any of my previous work leave a note on the appropriate thread.

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All’s quiet on the western front. No that’s not the title of my writing but the activity on the club; well I suppose like me you have all been very busy at work, this cuffin working for a living is such a bind. Anyway I have not had time to finish mine yet but because of the low traffic I will let you have a look at what I have got done to press, it may titillate your taste buds, and have you crying for more (I think not )

Last month a couple of comments were “a bit like Enid Blyton” so I thought I would write a story for my god-daughter Amy, as I have said it’s not finished yet so it should not go in for the monthly comp.

Feel free to comment.

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Story for Amy (as yet untitled)

 

The dark imposing cumulus began its formation on the horizon, and Nuada feared there was to be a storm.

“Bi cróga Nuada” she muttered to herself “Yes! a storm in more ways than one”.

She stopped a moment to listen to her thoughts and on the wind she could hear the voices of her ancestors calling. Not only the beckoning calls, for it was near Nuada’s time, but the voice of her spirit guide warning of a possible omen, an omen that if not heeded could return her people back to the dark days, the laethanta daoirse.

 

Nuada continued her laborious trudge along the winding lane then through the open fields until she finally came to the gardens of her dear friend Aylwin. A daunting journey for someone in their later years, but none the less, a task she was compelled to endure every four years to renew the vows of friendship.

As always she found Aylwin in her rose garden, clipping and pruning, then after the usual affectionate but silent hugs of endearment, Nuada spoke.

“Aylwin thou hast been my dearest friend for many a year, but I fear this will be our last meeting, as of lately I have heard the calling of taobh thall and fear I am not long of this earth, so it may be time for thee to pass over the secret to another, but remember my dearest friend beware the seekers”

Once again they hugged and exchanged tears, then Nuada was gone.

 

A smile beamed across the hideous face of Gauk revealing a mismatch of cracked and stained tombstone teeth. Gauk made a mental note of the private conversation he had just overheard before quickly disappearing into the undergrowth.

 

 

Amy dried her eyes on the already soggy handkerchief before bursting yet again into tears. The visit had been a sad affair, seeing her grandma Arline lying helplessly on the hospital bed. Her body, according to the doctors, was in excellent condition, but her mind had taken a journey to a place they knew not where, and was unable or afraid to return.

Amy had left her grandma’s bedside and was escorted home by her nanny. Then after a light lunch she made her way down to her favourite spot in the woods, a spot where she and her grandma would laugh and joke away the hours whilst splashing and paddling by the edge of the lake.

Before entering the woods she glanced back at her home, a fine old manor house, built around the turn of the sixteenth century and the home to the Wynn dynasty since that period. The house had once been part of a much larger building but over the years had been reduced to a third of the original size. Nevertheless it was a building that still held the imposing grandeur of former gothic times.

 

The moon now in full bloom seemed to procrastinate on the horizon, taking in the full splendour of an early spring evening before continuing its perpetual journey through the heavens. The nocturnal furries stretched and yawned as they readied themselves for a busy night of foraging, and their feathery friends glided through the clear blue welkin before they finally settled down to roost for the evening; that is, with the exception of Antawny, the wise old owl, who was perched on a nearby branch, one eye still fast asleep whilst the other scrutinised the strange young female human.

 

Amy sat by the old oak tree oblivious to all the activities around her, her face buried in her hands and her mind lost deep in her thoughts. Will my grandma ever come back to me? Have I lost my best friend? Will we never again hide in the bushes and play by the lake?

Whilst Amy’s mind pondered on the good times that had been and what she prayed would continue, she was being studied by the bright emerald eyes concealed in the bushes, eyes that seemed so out of place on the small craggy face of Corey.

Corey lifted his hand pointing a bony finger to Amy, “Geis fheiceála”, he muttered the strange incantation. ZAP, the seeing spell hit Amy directly on the forehead and penetrated deep into her mind. The hand withdrew and quickly faded into the foliage.

For a couple of seconds Amy was disorientated but soon regained normality. Thinking this was a result of her distressing and tiring day at the hospital she decided it was time for home and quickly made her way out of the woods.

The emerald eyes followed her progress before they too retreated to the safety of the hollow.

 

Back home Amy readied herself for bed, then after saying her prayers with an extra special blessing for her grandma Arline, she took a moment to reflect on the curiosities of the previous days.

It had all started two days ago. Amy had arrived home from school and as was the norm she readied herself for an hour’s walk in the woods with her grandma before dinner. But today Arline was reluctant to venture outside, giving the excuse of an impending storm, which Amy thought strange, as no matter what the weather they always had their afternoon walk in the woods. But today Arline had said,

“Amy I want you to do something very special for me, I want you to….”

“Grandma, Grandma” Arline was interrupted by Amy’s younger brother Tom, who ran up and gave Arline’s leg a bear hug.

“Are you going to read me a story grandma? Please Grandma please”

“Of course I will darling. Amy, I’m just going to read Tom a bedtime story, I will see you in our secret place in half an hour”

“Ok Grandma!” and off went Amy to the secret room.

 

The secret room was actually the old library and was out of bounds to the children, but Amy would sometimes slither in from time to time, when Tom was in one of his menacing moods and she just wanted time for her own thoughts.

This was one of the few fortunate parts of the manor that had survived the neglect of time and all the centuries of wars and destruction that history had to offer. The library had been christened the secret room by Arline, not because its whereabouts were concealed, although it is said that within its walls is hidden the location of secret passages and priest holes, but because some books and scrolls contained within seemed to periodically vanish only to reappear days later. Yes! A room that was certainly shrouded in myths and mysteries.

 

(Here should be a sketch, but there are no facilities for such.)

 

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And that’s all you get for now.

 

To help you out a bit….

Bi cróga = be brave.

laethanta daoirse = days of slavery

Irish Gaelic

 

Nuada = protector, Irish Mythology

Aylwin = noble friend, Welsh Mythology and also part anagram of what you will have to work out.

Geis fheiceála = Seeing spell

[Ron Blanco]

Hi Coyleys. Yes there does seem to be an eery silence. Do you think the others have run off to start a new writing club without us?

 

I'm looking forward to seeing how your story progresses. I find your characters' names interesting, though if I don't know how to pronounce a name I think it disrupts my reading, presumably because I am speaking the words in my head. I find this problem quite often e.g. with books set in Africa.

[coyleys]

Hey up Ron, thanks for the comments.

 

Hi Coyleys. Yes there does seem to be an eery silence. Do you think the others have run off to start a new writing club without us?

 

No, I can’t see that being the case, well, if it is surely they would take their two best writers with them.

Now I have the afternoon off I will have a look at your offering.

[Tallyman]

Hi Coyleys, I'm still here, so the others must have run off without the three of us

 

I liked your story so far - many clues and much mystery, but I liked your use of Gaelic terms. I can't really say why, but Stephen King's 'The Stand' came to mind - something to do with all those disparate and separate scenes slowly expanding in parallel and finally converging into one storyline.

 

I'm probably rambling, but much of your piece so far is intriguing but difficult to understand - I suspect that everything will be significant in the end and will become obvious, so I'm really looking forward to the final version!

[Mantaspook]

Hi Coyleys I'm still here but have been keeping a low profile for the last month due to been 'hors de combat' - (I used to think that phrase meant a tart with a brick in her handbag…)

 

Anyway, the industrial strength horse tranquilisers are now wearing off so I'll be catching up on what everyone has been up too and maybe completing some of the half finished stories that are cluttering up my computer.

 

Regarding your story it does hop around quite a bit and the new characters seem to be fed in before you get to know the previous ones - it could do with some attention to the structure, very intriguing though, especially the library where books and scrolls vanish then reappear, I think you should have opened with that as it’s a good opening hook.

 

I'm looking forward to the completed version also!

[coyleys]

I'm looking forward to the completed version also!

 

I will try to finish it for it for August, if only to stop Mantas having a Rant.

[Mantaspook]

I will try to finish it for it for August, if only to stop Mantas having a Rant.

 

I haven't got time for a rant, the best I can offer at the moment is a quick harangue but you'll have to book in advance as places are limited, its £5 a ticket but you do get cream tea and a scone chucked in…yer face.