Friday, 15 February 2013

Part Two!

Hello beauties!

It's finally here! The long (well, only a month) awaited second instalment of my online novel. Part two features the vote that won out, Roxanne follows Oliver and he's trustworthy option. If you need to refresh your mind on the story so far, click here.  

And so, without further ado, please read on for part two!

"Oliver?" Roxanne repeated dumbly. "Ara-what?"

He grinned jovially. "Araheim, my dear. The kingdom of bards and poets. You're going to love it here!"
Roxanne was uncertain how she was supposed to react. Did this Oliver, person, think she was going to stay? Wait, what am I thinking?! I'm probably going to wake up very soon... Please, let me wake up NOW!, she thought, willing herself to wake up. But even as she thought it, the words appeared on the page. She fought for a moment or two and tried to get her thoughts in order, while a little tune mocked her in her mind; 'You're CRAY-ZEE!'

She thought on what she'd heard and read so far and formed a couple of important questions in her mind. And this Oliver is going to answer me.

"Why is everything being written in the book as it happens?" she asked, this being the thing bugging her more than anything else. It was also the question that convinced her she had really completely lost her mind, because she wasn't asking where she was or how to get back to where she came from.

Oliver smiled at her, making him seem even more handsome. "Well, the Storyteller is working on your tale right now. You see, yours is a very important story. He's actually just focussing on yours now, and none of the others will be touched until your story is complete. That's never happened before in the history of Araheim." He sounded sad at that thought.

While she allowed her mind to work through the newest information, she took Oliver in. He was wearing very old fashioned clothing; a crisp white shirt with a delicate reddish, brocade cravat. His trousers were of a deep, dark grey colour and his fine jacket matched it. His shoes shone and had large, golden buckles adorning them. She also realised there was a fine, wooden carriage behind him, hooked onto a massive animal that Roxanne couldn't identify. She's never seen anything of its like before.

Roxanne looked up at Oliver and found him regarding her with a smile. She had been unsure if she could trust this man, until she focussed on his eyes for a moment and they shared a long, and rather intense, gaze. His eyes were dark blue and warm, twinkling at some unshared joke. There and then she decided he was friendly and trustworthy. Who else was she going to trust anyway?

"The Storyteller?" she asked, arching a brow.
"Aye. He is the ruler of these lands." Oliver answered patiently.
"Like a president? Or a king?" Roxanne asked.
He nodded. "Indeed, our king. Though I do not know what a president is."
She shook her head at that. "Doesn't matter. What does this king of yours want with me?"

Oliver looked concerned at that. "He has asked that I bring you to him. I think he may be able to explain it better than I can. But know that your coming here is not at all a thing of chance. There is grave need in Araheim and you may be the only one who can save us."

Roxanne felt completely lost, which was not at all helped by the self-writing book jotting down her every emotion and thought on a page.

"So, this king sent you? To find me?" she asked.
"Yes, he did." Oliver answered.
"And you work for him?"
"Well, in a sense, I suppose. He is my father."
"Great, a prince is all I need. Where's the white horse, then? And the sweeping me off my feet? Or does that come later?" she asked dryly, not thinking at all about the words before they slipped out of her mouth. This always happened when she was faced with good looking guys; she was always sticking her foot in it.

But Oliver grinned. "The sweeping part can be arranged, if you'd like. And I own a horse, but he's a chestnut. If you prefer white, I'll have him painted for you."

"Wait, what?" she demanded, completely incredulous.

Oliver continued as if she hadn't said anything at all. "Though he might bite off a limb in the process. He's not fond of paint. But you seem like the kind of girl who would nurse me back to health. You could bring me my meals on trays and sing me lullabies."

Roxanne had still not said a word when he burst out laughing. "You were joking? Oh, you were joking." she managed, relieved.

"Come on, the Storyteller is waiting." he said then, turning to the carriage.
Roxanne shook her head and started mumbling to herself. "Faraway kingdoms, princes and carriages. Next thing you know, I'll see griffins and pixies..."

She followed him into the carriage and they were off.

How should the story continue?

That's all I have for you folks! Please remember to vote and to share with everyone you know. This is much appreciated! 

Happy birthday Auntie Flo! Hope you have a fantabulous day and you're spoilt rotten. Love you lots!!

Have a fantastic weekend!

Stay beautiful and be kind to animals, 


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