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She sat at the blurred window, wishing she could at least once visit the outside world. Feel the fall wind whistle through her auburn hair, hear the crackle of the dry leaves that fell slowly from the trees until they reached the green grass beneath. She imagined it all perfectly, down to the last insignificant detail. One taste of freedom was all she wished for, but the village folk would never allow it.
"You are our only hope, if anything were to happen to you. . . all would be lost," they would tell her whenever she requested to go outside.
It's true that she, Isabelle, was the last mage in the small, hidden village of Spero. And only her powers could end the war between them and the Potentia, who believed they had wiped out every living mage on the face of the earth. So, they needed her, this fifteen year old girl that could hardly walk ten steps without falling flat on her face, to one day fight the the leader of the Potenia and send them back to a time of peace. It was crazy, of course. Her powers were nothing special, nothing compared to mages in the olden days. All the training in the world couldn't even bring her to compare to them. But still, she went along with it. Maybe, along the way, some miracle would cross her path.
The loud ringing of four bells brought her out of her fantasies. Sighing, she stood. . . the bells were the signal for another training session.
"Someday," she whispered softly to herself, "someday, I'll be free." And she truly believed it.
- by Anya Isabella |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/21/2010 |
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- Title: Whistling Wind
- Artist: Anya Isabella
- Description: I don't know, just a random idea. . . please comment and tell me what you think! What I could do better. . . ^_^
- Date: 05/21/2010
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Comments (1 Comments)
- CeNedra_Elessedil - 06/16/2010
- It kind of makes me think of the poem "Lady of Shalott."
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