I never made titles at the age of 8 As you can tell, I wrote this at the age of 8.
I was looking through a few things and I found this. It's just a 'prologue' - though I thought I might as well post it. May continue it if I have
The horse cantered into the trees, leaving the rider mumbling frantic words. The creature behind could be heard louder now, the rider pressed on;
further into the woods, further into the spell. His features were illuminated in the moonlight, shining down on the nebulous branches surrounding him.
And the eyebrows? They were slanted slightly, blending in with his pale face, the rider was what they defined beautiful. Though if you happened to
look closely, behind the mixture of blond and brown wisps of hair, his frail pointy ears protruded - immediately radiating his origins.
The pursuing creature was closer now, leaving the rider even more panicked.
"Gillizaro," he bellowed.
A red bolt left his smooth palm, turning the trees a blood-red colour. Abruptly as a life force had entered, the trees twirled into a cricle, guarding
the elf within, with their very lives. A scarlet ring encricled him, glowing very softly but enough to attract the creature.
The elf should have been losing the beast but now the only way out was a difficult route. Every second was precious and he began to chant. Words only
few knew, he spoke of the ancient language. A decreased number of the population were educated in these words and every letter was lethal when spoken.
These were elven woods and the creature, to come so far into from the border, must have exceptional power. This was no ordinary beast, this was
probably directly summoned from the Shai'tan. Coming from the end of his words, the dark shadow of the pursuer could be seen. With the last roll of
his tongue, blue sparks of life erupted from within him and shot to the creature with incredible speed.
Leaving the creature disintergrated, they returned towards his direction, though instead of into this body, they intertwined around him, encasing the
"Chikla oura nirnil," the elf threw out those words with difficulty. The shade of blue grew darker now until a grey could be faintly seen. It began
to harden turning from a wisp from the sea to a stone of ash, encasing the elf with it.
[edit on 31/7/2010 by BlackPoison94]