OK I haven't wrote in here in a absolutely ages! It's definitely showing, my writing has gone way down hill without your wonderful reviews. This is a story which I've been fiddling around with in my head for years now, I sort of have the plot sorted now. This is a really rough draft but just wanted to get something down. PLEASE read and review it needs a lot of work and I need a lot of help!
Love Kasie xxxx
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Oriana Nyx stirred in her sleep. The curtain of black hair, which framed her bony face entangling itself about her slight frame. Above her the stars winked suspiciously in the midnight black sky as fairies and other mystical creatures of the night flitted silently overhead. To her left lay an aged woman with gray hair poking out from her tight bun; the woman was wrapped tightly in a black velvet cloak sleeping soundly on the cold grass. To the right of Oriana lay an assortment of decisively odd objects; two rough brooms, a bag full of food that was being picked at by two field mice. Three or four bottles in various shapes, sizes and colours lay wrapped in a brilliant cloth whilst ink stained scrolls and feathers littered the nearby ground.
A few hours later at the breaking of dawn Oriana awakens to the sounds of the birds’ morning cry. The lady beside her stirred simultaneously and soon they were eating an unappetising breakfast of oatmeal. Whilst they ate the lady, who insisted on being addressed simply as Rosa, the lengthened version of her name being Rosalita outlined their journey for the day ahead. Oriana stirred her oatmeal gloomily, her attention far away, after all the entire plan sounded identical to every other one that week. She was particularly irritable that morning, the cold, poor sleep and lack of food not to mention answers was wearing on her nerves. It did not help that Rosa had yet to confide exactly where her house was or how long left they had to travel simply stating ‘Not far now’ as she had every other morning.
They packed up the little belongings they had and mounted (Oriana a little unsteadily) their brooms. They flew high into the morning sky the bitter early September wind biting through Oriana’s thin clothing. Whilst Rosa was clothed in a heavy ankle length dress and cloak Oriana wore her old jeans and a frayed jacket, she could not wait to arrive at her Rosa’s house.
Something about the way Rosa talked and held herself gave Oriana the impression that she was of well off status and she had come to conclude that she might live in a grand mansion or perhaps even a castle! Oh how her imagination elaborated on these fantastical ideas during the long hours of their flights. However when they came to the end of their journey a few days later in the darkness of the night admits a deafening downpour it was on the lawn of a humble cottage.
As they entered it tired, cold, wet and hungry it appeared no different to any other cottage. The walls of the hallway were lined with pictures of Oriana assumed with a pang, probably Rosa’s family.
The hallway sported doors along it on both sides but Rosa led Oriana past these to a door at the bottom. Oriana followed her in and couldn't’t help but gasp. Despite the meagre appearance of the cottage from the outside the room Oriana now stood in was cavernous. Clearly it was supposed to be a kitchen but instead of a cooker, microwave or any other electrical appliance there was a massive black cauldron at the very center of the room. The entire room was lined with shelves, some holding ancient looking books, others holding oddly shaped and coloured bottles and some holding jars with various animals and plants within them.
Similarly various items were strung to the rafters of the room, there was a huge oak
table to the right of the cauldron. On it lay pages upon pages of parchments; some looked curiously like ancient maps. Rosa ushered her to a small table at the other end of the room. Hitching up her sodden skirts she walked to the cauldron, gazing into its depths with a slight frown, she shocked Oriana by plunging her hand into the steaming concoction.
Apparently unharmed but amused by Oriana’s expression Rosa turned her attention to the three neatly rolled scrolls, which she had obtained, from the cauldron. However, after briefly reading the front of them she set them aside and progressed to the shelves. Oriana forgot her discomfort as she watched amazed as Rosa walked back and forth from the shelves to the cauldron. Occasionally she stopped to stir the mixture inside and Oriana heard her mutter words which she did not understand whilst waving her arms above the cauldron in a most comical manner.
After a short while she ladled the contents into two rough wooden bowls and joined Oriana at the small table. Already wooden spoons and a wooden platter with a hot loaf had been set at the table. Oriana noted how strange it was that they made everything out of wood before gasping at the contents of her bowl. The concoction was a brilliant turquoise blue and highly odd looking. Rosa chuckled heartily at Oriana’s expression
‘Dahu and lotus leaf soup, dear. It’s quite delicious’
Oriana remained skeptical until her stomach growled loudly, abandoning all pretense she tucked it. Indeed it was delicious, like nothing she had ever tasted. Together they cleared two bowls of the soup and finished the bread. After a delightful herbal tea to follow Oriana had thoroughly dried out and overcome with fatigue.
Rosa failed to hesitate as she showed Oriana up a creaky set of wooden stairs, which folded away. She explained apologetically that Oriana would have to sleep in the attic, as her cottage simply had no more rooms. Oriana reassured her that she had slept in far worse. However when they entered the low ceiling, long room she shivered horribly in the cold and pulled her jacket closer to her. Rosa flung open a chest at the far end of the room and after some more curious whisperings and hand movements she handed Oriana an ankle length, cotton night-dress, which had the heat of just being removed from a hot radiator. Something Oriana had never experienced. Rosa lit a fire near the bed with another waving of her hands and mutterings. When Oriana pointed out how unsafe this was Rosa assured her that the fire would not stray from the grate and that it would burn all night. As Rosa turned to go questions which had burned incessantly on the end of Oriana’s tongue for days now threatened to pour out. Rosa seemed to notice for she turned to face Oriana with a smile, small and tired though it was.
‘Not now Oriana we are both too tired and have traveled a great deal, save your questions until the morning then, hopefully I will be able to give you some answers’.
Mollified and aware of how comfortable the bed beside her looked Oriana saved her questions. After bidding goodnight Oriana stripped and pulled on the still-warm night-dress and crawled into the small, comfortable bed. Before long she was dead to the world and oblivious to the affectionate, worried look, which Rosa observed her with from the doorway.[pre]
