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The Book Walkers - Chapter 1 - Part 1I wake up to the blaring noise of the alarm clock, and my hair in tangled knots. I groan, turned over, and glance at the clock. 7.30. Lucky its school holidays, I think. Then I jump out of bed. Great it's my first day my new school, Donaldson High, and I'm late. Again. I get dressed into pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and attempt to tame my mane of wild, wavy, golden brown hair into a reasonable pony tail. I shove my book into my bag, grab my phone, dash out the door and sprint toward the bus stop. I get there just as the doors begin to close. I take a window seat near the front of the bus and get out my book. I get up to the bit where Frodo is being chased by the Riders and I fell like someone is watching me. I look up, and sitting next to me is a boy. His hair shiny black hair is hang down around his face, bring out his bright, green eyes, which are fixed on me.
"Umm hello? Are you ok?" And why are yo
The book walkers - Book 1 - prologeAs the full moon rises through the clouds and blocks the sun, a dark figer appears. Her graying black hair is piled on top of her head, tightly knitted together and held in place by a single, ruby-eyed bat pin. Her tall slender, shape walks through the woods, her black eyes pierce the night searching for him.
She reaches the small, dark pool and pours a vial of bright red liquid into it. As the moon fully blocks the sun, she starts to chant. The water starts to swirl and change into various colours as if it is confused. The chanting continues. Thunder claps, the lightning strikes and the rain continues to bucket down.
The pool changes as if to finally understand. Images fly through the waters glass. Images of camps, magical school, castles, magical creatures, the past, the present, the future and great friends. The images stop flooding in. she stops chanting and everything goes dark and silent. The words of the dark lady still
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More