[LOWWC] The Land before Time..

This is part 1 The introduction - it is in 3 parts;

In this land of mist where magic still lived, Aira bent down to snuggle the baby dragon. He closed his eyes and let out a purr as he rubbed his face up and down Aira’s side.

She laughed and nearly fell over, a bucket of water in her hand. He opened his big eye nearest to her, fixed her with a golden gaze and curled his lips back, revealing great ivory teeth, and shaking his head playfully, he hopped on his front feet with joy.

‘’Aira’’ her father called ‘’ where are you we need that water’’

she sighed and waved her finger at Tomas, smiling and signalling him to behave. The space around them whirled suddenly and huge wings displaced the air in an upward draft, as a massive dragon shimmering with silver and reflected sunlight appeared. She landed with a surprising grace, tucked her wings into her body and turned to look at Tomas with maternal love and slight admonishment.

He put his head down sheepishly and ran to his mother, nuzzling her under her chin with his nose. The horses in the nearby stables snorted nervously and stamped their feet, a lone whinny.

‘Aira’

‘Coming’ she called,

As she ran in the direction of the small kitchen garden – she turned and looked behind her, Tomas and his mother rose into the air, powerful wings propelling them high into the morning sky. They seared upwards and eastwards quickly becoming silhouettes against the rising sun.

As Aira approached the kitchen door she was surrounded by the sweet scent of mint, lavender and cut grass, she inhaled deeply. She smiled and marvelled at the beauty of the soft pink apple blossom and the pale purple jacaranda trees. It was spring and the world seemed to be waking up, a bee landed on the rose bush next to her, buzzing and busy, the birds were singing and a wood pigeon cooed.

The door was ancient, oak in a slate frame, they say it had come from the lost city of the elves, after the great destruction, but Aira thought that a myth. However, curiously, it had symbols embossed on it, deeply engrained, swirls and circles and a young boy and a girl playing with a dog and a deer. The scenes changed and moved at intervals, sometimes there were more children and sometimes even a unicorn. Today the figures were still. Aira stepped onto the hard kitchen floor.

Alfie, her father’s cat licked his paw and eyed her curiously, his tail flicking lazily on the table as her father stirred some concoction on the stove. He had his head down and was deeply engrossed in a thick, dusty looking book; he turned a page and then saw her.

‘Oh there you are – quick I need the water ‘

He grabbed the bucket and poured at least half into his pan, picked some chopped herbs from his bench and hurled them into the mix, steam hissed upwards and a smell of strawberries and cream filled the room as he stirred vigorously. There was a loud crack and streamers of light filled the space between them.

Alfie yowled and ran away, knocking a plant over with his tail.

‘Arh ha at last I have done it ‘he said, clapping his hands and rubbing his long beard. He looked down at Aira with kind crinkly eyes of sapphire blue and smiled.

‘Where have you been young lady – I nearly boiled dry my mix, that won’t do’

‘I am sorry father, Tomas was trying to play with me, he wouldn’t leave me alone’

‘Argh Tommy, where is he now, has his mother found him?’ He always mispronounced his name for some reason.

‘Tomas and Yes’ she said.

I like it so far. Next instalment please.

reply to post by HelenConway


I like the premise and it was well written.

Great start

Yes, more please.

You have a great style of writing helen, I like it. Good luck..

reply to post by TheDoctor46


thank you dr / slayer and iskander - I appreciate your feedback - will try and get part 2 done today

reply to post by HelenConway


A great start! Please continue.

reply to post by beezzer


thanks beezer - i'll get on it

reply to post by HelenConway


Part: 2.

Alfie padded from room to room ‘yowling’ loudly; he was a ginger and white male cat – with specks of gold lining the tips of his ears and his back. The stripe on his back was like a golden spear and when he was angry it glowed and shimmered. He was displeased right now and he did not care who knew. In fact he wanted, Mr Gustav and Aira to know how decidedly ‘unpleased’ he was.

He had been waiting for his food in the kitchen when the humans caused that smelly explosion; they had been so intent on their sparkling cookery and entranced by the bright lights that followed and flew across the room. He felt as if he might as well not have been there at all.

He noted that they did not even spot that he had flounced out, in full tail flare mode. Being noticed was very important to Alfie, he liked to be admired, he liked his humans to attend to his needs when necessary.

Didn’t they know that he was hungry? Didn’t they know that his fur was precious? Anyone of those flare things could have singed his beautiful, thick, coat. Did they not realise how long it took to groom such a coat? Each hair was methodically and meticulously, licked at least thrice a day. Yes Alfie was extremely indignant.

After a suitable vocal display, Alfie noticed the silence. Curiosity quickly replaced feelings of huffy vexation. Yes he was a very curious cat indeed. So, with a swish of his tail, he rearranged and flattened his fur and pattered back down to the kitchen in search of breakfast, again.

Peering cautiously around the old door, he was surprised to see that Mr Gustav and Aira were nowhere to be seen.

In fact, he noted with a sliver of annoyance, that his feeding bowl was still glaringly empty.

However – the room was still full of glittering lights. It was illuminated in the most peculiar way. A vortex of silver iridescent plumes, darted here and there in circular motions. They formed pricks of light that seemed to dance, whizzing at speed and forming a larger circle that had a shimmering silver blue centre which pulsated rhythmically, like a heart.

There was a shuffle and a cough and then Aira and her father, Mr Gustav, appeared from behind a large wooden cupboard that had seen better days.

They were staring at the lights and Mr Gustav had a very worried expression on his face. He rubbed his chin and frowned, distractedly, he pushed his messy dirty blonde hair away from his eyes and groaned.

‘ Oh no what have I done – this is all wrong, this is very bad, Aira you have to call the dragons, we need their help’

reply to post by HelenConway


More, more!!

The way you write really gets me into the story and then it ends!! It's one of those things where I could just keep on reading.

Well done, Helen.

reply to post by iskander683


thank you It takes me ages to write that is why it is so short - try to do some tonight

reply to post by HelenConway


part 2 continued ..

Aira looked at her father's worried expression and suddenly froze, she spun around to look at Alfie who was also, stock still and again to her father, before turning on her heel and running out of the house.

The blood was rushing to her head and she felt panic, mixed with wonder as she made her way to the horn. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Her father, Gustav was always concocting energy spells, but this time it was different, he was trying to repair the rift.

This dark crevice had appeared unexpectedly and without warning in the caves beneath the silver mountains. It was the size of a small, hand ball and was growing ever so slightly each day. Gustav calculated that it was increasing in diameter by approximately one hand span, at each sunset. By the end of the month it would almost fill the cave, if it continued to grow this way.

In a secluded corner of the garden, where the air was infused with the scent of fresh bark and sweet blossom lay the horn. It was draped by the soft, dusky bloom of the apple tree, beneath the knarled branches and covered in fallen petals. It had been a long time since it had last been handled and was almost hidden by dandelions and entangled within a bed of stinging nettles. Despite this It remained balanced snuggly on a granite plinth, where careful hands had placed it, eons ago.The horn had always been there, as far as Aira knew, no one really came into this quiet corner that lay behind the orchard.

Aira certainly could not remember a time when she had ever needed to use it, but then she was only 13 years old. She gently lifted the unicorn’s horn and placed the small mouth piece to her lips. As she did so she disturbed a small flock of brown birds. They had been perching peacefully, enjoying the shade, relaxing, after a busy morning spent feasting on red berries. There followed a cacophony of tweets and chirps with a rustle of wings and the flap of feathers as they rose together, and flew to the next tree - stretching their wings as they landed, in anticipation of some rest.

Aira did not notice.

She was small for her age but she had beautiful thick chestnut hair that fell to her shoulders in long luxurious strands, she closed her wide hazel eyes, and blew, puffing out her cheeks until she felt slightly dizzy… nothing.. no sound.

Or so she thought - but across the land, there was a deep rumble sounding, far beneath the earth...

reply to post by HelenConway


Part 3:

reply to post by HelenConway


part 3.

Gloynsun, which means ‘glows like the sun’ was Tomas’ mother, she was collecting primroses and wild sage for her nest when she felt the ground vibrate beneath her feet. She had large golden feet, and long nails, the skin was covered in shiny scales that reflected the sun but they were very sensitive. They spoke to the earth and now she felt a rush of energy flow upwards towards her great heart, she heard the call.

Chapter: 1
In this land of mist where magic still lived, Aira bent down to snuggle the baby dragon. He closed his eyes and let out a purr as he rubbed his face up and down Aira’s side.

She laughed and nearly fell over, a bucket of water in her hand. He opened his big eye nearest to her, fixed her with a golden gaze and curled his lips back, revealing great ivory teeth. He was shaking his head playfully, hopping on his front feet with joy.

‘’Aira’’ her father called ‘’ where are you? We need that water’’

she sighed and waved her finger playfully at Tomas, smiling and signaling for him to behave.
Suddenly, the space around them whirled and huge wings displaced the air in an upward draft, as a massive dragon shimmering with silver and reflected sunlight appeared. She landed with a surprising grace, tucking her wings into her body she turned to look at Tomas with maternal love and slight admonishment.

He put his head down sheepishly and ran to his mother, nuzzling her under her chin with his nose. The horses in the nearby stables snorted nervously and stamped their feet, a lone whinny.

‘Aira’

‘Coming’ she called,

As she ran in the direction of the small kitchen garden – she turned and looked behind her, Tomas and his mother rose into the air, powerful wings propelling them high into the morning sky. They soared upwards and eastwards quickly becoming silhouettes against the rising sun.

As Aira approached the kitchen door she was surrounded by the sweet scent of mint, lavender and cut grass, she inhaled deeply. She smiled and marveled at the beauty of the soft pink apple blossom and the pale purple jacaranda trees. It was spring and the world seemed to be waking up, a bee landed on the rose bush next to her, buzzing and busy, the birds were singing and a wood pigeon cooed.

a reply to: HelenConway
The door was ancient, oak in a slate frame, they say it had come from the lost city of the elves, after the great destruction, but Aira thought that a myth. However, curiously, it had symbols embossed on it, deeply engrained, swirls and circles and a young boy and a girl playing with a dog and a deer. The scenes changed and moved at intervals, sometimes there were more children and sometimes even a unicorn. Today the figures were still. Aira stepped onto the hard kitchen floor.

Alfie, her father’s cat licked his paw and eyed her curiously, his tail flicking lazily on the table as her father stirred some concoction on the stove. He had his head down and was deeply engrossed in a thick, dusty looking book; he turned a page and then saw her.

‘Oh there you are – quick I need the water ‘

He grabbed the bucket and poured at least half into his pan, picked some chopped herbs from his bench and hurled them into the mix, steam hissed upwards and a smell of strawberries and cream filled the room as he stirred vigorously. There was a loud crack and streamers of light filled the space between them.

Alfie yowled and ran away, knocking a plant over with his tail.

‘Arh ha at last I have done it ‘he said, clapping his hands and rubbing his long beard. He looked down at Aira with kind crinkly eyes of sapphire blue and smiled.

‘Where have you been young lady – I nearly boiled dry my mix, that won’t do’

‘I am sorry father, Tomas was trying to play with me, he wouldn’t leave me alone’

‘Argh Tommy, where is he now, has his mother found him?’ He always mispronounced his name for some reason.

‘Tomas and Yes’ she said.
Alfie padded from room to room ‘yowling’ loudly; he was a ginger and white male cat – with specks of gold lining the tips of his ears and his back. The stripe on his back was like a golden spear and when he was angry it glowed and shimmered. He was displeased right now and he did not care who knew. In fact he wanted, Mr Gustav and Aira to know how decidedly ‘unpleased’ he was.

a reply to: HelenConway
He had been waiting for his food in the kitchen when the humans caused that smelly explosion; they had been so intent on their sparkling cookery and entranced by the bright lights that followed and flew across the room. He felt as if he might as well not have been there at all.

He noted that they did not even spot that he had flounced out, in full tail flare mode. Being noticed was very important to Alfie, he liked to be admired, he liked his humans to attend to his needs when necessary.

Didn’t they know that he was hungry? Didn’t they know that his fur was precious? Anyone of those flare things could have singed his beautiful, thick, coat. Did they not realise how long it took to groom such a coat? Each hair was methodically and meticulously, licked at least thrice a day. Yes Alfie was extremely indignant.

After a suitable vocal display, Alfie noticed the silence. Curiosity quickly replaced feelings of huffy vexation. Yes he was a very curious cat indeed. So, with a swish of his tail, he rearranged and flattened his fur and pattered back down to the kitchen in search of breakfast, again.

Peering cautiously around the old door, he was surprised to see that Mr Gustav and Aira were nowhere to be seen.

In fact, he noted with a sliver of annoyance, that his feeding bowl was still glaringly empty.

However – the room was still full of glittering lights. It was illuminated in the most peculiar way. A vortex of silver iridescent plumes, darted here and there in circular motions. They formed pricks of light that seemed to dance, whizzing at speed and forming a larger circle that had a shimmering silver blue centre which pulsated rhythmically, like a heart.

a reply to: HelenConway

There was a shuffle and a cough and then Aira and her father, Professor Gustav, appeared from behind a large wooden cupboard that had seen better days.

They were staring at the lights and Professor Gustav had a very worried expression on his face. He rubbed his chin and frowned, distractedly, he pushed his messy dirty blonde hair away from his eyes and groaned.

‘Oh no what have I done – this is all wrong, this is very bad, Aira you have to call the dragons, we need their help’
Aira looked at her father's worried expression and suddenly froze, she spun around to look at Alfie who was also, stock still and again to her father, before turning on her heel and running out of the house.

The blood was rushing to her head and she felt panic, mixed with wonder as she made her way to the horn. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Her father, Gustav was always concocting energy spells, but this time it was different, he was trying to repair the rift.

This dark crevice had appeared unexpectedly and without warning in the caves beneath the silver mountains. It was the size of a small, hand ball and was growing ever so slightly each day. Gustav calculated that it was increasing in diameter by approximately one hand span, at each sunset. By the end of the month it would almost fill half the cave.

Aira’s mother Sophia had left the day before this one – she had journeyed to the place that is called ‘the other world’ a place of fear where darkness eats the light. She left when the anomaly in the cave started to grow too large – she was seeking the source of the crevice. Aira worried about her as she ran to call the dragons.

In a secluded corner of the garden, where the air was infused with the scent of fresh bark and sweet blossom lay the horn.

It was draped by the soft, dusky bloom of the apple tree, beneath the gnarled branches and covered in fallen petals. It had been a long time since it had last been handled and was almost hidden by dandelions and entangled within a bed of stinging nettles. Despite this it remained balanced snuggly on a granite plinth, where careful hands had placed it, eons ago. The horn had always been there, as far as Aira knew, no one really came into this quiet corner that lay behind the orchard.

Aira certainly could not remember a time when she had ever needed to use it, but then she was only 13 years old. She gently lifted the unicorn’s horn and placed the small mouth piece to her lips. As she did so she disturbed a small flock of brown birds. They had been perching peacefully, enjoying the shade, relaxing, after a busy morning spent feasting on red berries. There followed a cacophony of tweets and chirps with a rustle of wings and the flap of feathers as they rose together, and flew to the next tree - stretching their wings as they landed, in anticipation of some rest.

Aira did not notice.

a reply to: HelenConway
She was small for her age but she had beautiful thick chestnut hair that fell to her shoulders in long luxurious strands, she closed her wide hazel eyes, and blew, puffing out her cheeks until she felt slightly dizzy… nothing.. No sound.

Or so she thought - but across the land, there was a deep rumble sounding, far beneath the earth...

Gloynsun, which means ‘glows like the sun’ was Tomas’ mother, she was collecting primroses and wild sage for her nest when she felt the ground vibrate beneath her feet. She had large golden feet, and long nails, the skin was covered in shiny scales that reflected the sun but they were very sensitive. They spoke to the earth and now she felt a rush of energy flow upwards towards her great heart, she heard the call.

Chapter 2:
Sophia was sitting at a bus stop on Union Street in Plymouth, she looked like any other person that day, almost. It was January 2014. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail and drops of water splashed her face as a blanket of rain poured from the over cast sky.

She was a beautiful woman with high cheek bones and soft brown eyes that gently flashed golden flecks. Her body was lean and tall and even in her sodden state, men and women would disconcertingly [to her] turn their heads and glance in her direction.

What was she doing in this God forsaken place? She wondered. The day was grey and the air chilled her bones, even though it was not really that cold. The atmosphere was thick with diesel fumes mixed with vapourised sea spray, or so it seemed to Sophia.

She had arrived today and emerged from the bone caves in Cattedown – it was quite a surprise to emerge from a sacred cave into a mechanical car repair workshop. That was not what she expected.

Peter had left a change of clothes at the cave entrance with a scrappy note and a map with instructions where to meet. So here she was at the appointed place.

Although she looked like everyone else in her denim jeans and red North Face jacket with brown walking boots – she was not like everyone else. She was not from this place or time.

She had travelled here to stem the source of the schism. She was no closer to her goal. She missed her lovely husband and her daughter Aira and so as she was sitting glumly wondering what an earth she was doing here and where she was to go next.

The bus arrived.

Sitting on the bus waving happily at her was her only contact in this world – Peter – he was what they called in this world an OAP – old age pensioner – ‘ha ha’ if only they knew he often thought – he was way older than your typical OAP. At least several hundred years had passed since he had arrived in this world.

a reply to: HelenConway

He was a small bundle of round energy, with a beard that he was forever touching and a deep booming voice that was hard to ignore. He boomed and gesticulated with his hands between smiles and Sophia was so warmed by his presence.

This world suddenly felt better and on cue the clouds scurried towards the West and beams of sunlight lit the small bench she was sitting on, the sky was a slate blue and the diesel fumes seemed to have disappeared – she breathed in deeply as the sea air filled her lungs.

She stood to greet Peter as he clambered from the bus, accompanied by his small fluffy Jack Russell – ‘Avro’.

‘ Oh Petrous I am so pleased to see you – thank you so much for meeting me’

‘ No worries my lovely, I am so glad you got the clothes and they fit – come on let’s get a cup of warm chocolate – you will feel much better and we can talk – we need to talk – we have much work to do’

‘And remember I am Peter here ... sometimes even Pete when I am feeling reckless ‘he grinned.

Avro barked and jumped onto his back paws – his fluffy hair bouncing with the movement.

Then they also felt the deep rumble under their feet – an energy stream leap upwards towards their hearts.

‘Oh no the horn has sounded’ Sophia whispered.

‘Time is short hurry’ Peter said as he pulled Sophia towards the town Centre.

a reply to: HelenConway

Chapter 3:

‘Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy kingdom come. …. ‘

David was scared, his heart frozen in his chest, he could hear each heart beat with acute awareness, the blood was pumping around his body, and he heard the whoosh whoosh whoosh of the flow and pulse. In his adrenaline heightened state he did not know what to do but to repeat this ancient prayer. It was suitably solemn and soothed him in his fear.

A loud crash and the crunch of masonry falling was the catalyst needed for him to move – he wanted to run – away from the bombs. Fire leapt from the open doorway and the heat seared his skin.

Panicked ‘Run, run run ‘ ………. He said to himself; and he did …… blindly, out of the remains of his house, through the fire ridden alley that was once a normal suburban street. The whistles of the falling bombs and the wail of the air raid siren with the screams of mothers searching for their babies filled his ears.

The Luftwaffe was highlighted by the search lights as they parried for space and attempted to avoid the metal cables of the barrage balloons.

He ran until he reached the small beach with their rocky coves south of Dartmoor which had always had such a healing effect on him.

Not today he just felt overwhelmingly sad and empty.

He longed to scream, to curse to rip the pain from his body with his bare hands. It was all so futile - resigned, he slumped forward, ' really - what was the point' he thought.

The front of his cotton shirt was flecked with sand, sweat and dried blood. He brushed at it distracted, wondering with desperation how things had come to this and as he did so a lock of wet chestnut hair tumbled onto his face. He soothed it to the back of his head with his free hand, momentarily, gazing out to the dark ocean and thought absently, how could the moon still be shining?

A sudden pang of unease gripped his chest again, he took a deep breath as salt and ozone filled his lungs. How everything could look so normal, but nothing was normal, he cried in his head.

A queasy feeling preceded the swift rush of bile rising and he turned his head and vomited in the sand.

That unease again, this thing, this creature - that was overwhelming his life and squeezing the very life force from his being. Part of him wished he had never left London, but after what had happened, what choice did he have. Plymouth was meant to be safe and he had to look after his younger brother – where was he now?

The boats bells clanging and the sea’s gentle, rhythmic sloshing, left him feeling suddenly exhausted his body ached and the cut in his side throbbed, he was suddenly overwhelmed and unable to move, he fell into an anxiety ridden restless sleep…

As he slept there was a deep rumble in the earth beneath his feet and a maelstrom of silvery light surrounded him. He was about to wake up in 2014, much to his horror. The horn had sounded.