Death and Healing - A Journal Options

[Count Lauriel]

Hi guys!
I'm here to post the first part of my Oblivion character's Journal. I'm doing it as a roleplaying exercise and because, well, I love to write and I've been struggling lately.

I'm not going to drag this out as I'd like everything you know about my character to come from the Journal, not from me.
I intend to post at least a section a week, if not more.
I got some inspiration from Buffy's Journal, which may not be entirely evident in the Prologue, but will become clear soon. Acadian, if you wish to discuss this (as is understandable), feel free to PM me

Any comments or criticisms will be greatly appreciated.


Prologue
We lived in the Western Reach. The Easternmost point of High Rock. I lived with my mother, Aila Aurelie and my father, Faric Aurelie in a cottage a few miles north of Jehanna. Our cottage was small, but it was cosy. A warm fire, good food and soft beds. What more could a simple Breton family want?
Every night I would kiss my father good night, then go to my room with mother so she could read me a story.

It was a good life. Hard, but good. During the day, mother would teach me simple spells to heal myself and others around me. I never questioned why. It was something the women in my family had done for generations. Not the quickest learner, she frequently became frustrated with me. I was never shouted at though. My mother would, when she became angry, merely mutter a few words and close her eyes. Moments later a pale green light would sweep over her and she was calm again.

Father? I don’t know where he went to work. Sometimes he stayed away from home for days on end. Other times he didn’t leave the house for weeks, locked away in his room with his experiments. Many times I tried to sneak a peek into that room. I never even got close. He always locked the door when he was away, and when he wasn’t, well, I was too scared to go near.

***

“Good night, my child of the stars. Sleep well.” Whispered my mother. Her evening ritual as she left my room, closing the thin door behind her. As usual I waited until I heard her footsteps stop when she climbed into bed. Reaching under my bed, I pulled out the candle I’d hidden earlier in the day, and placed it on my nightstand. Closing my eyes, I envisioned warmth spreading from my chest, down my arms and into the palm of my right hand. I focused more, willing the warmth to intensify, the space which it occupied to shrink. I opened my eyes and willed a spark to appear in my hand, just as I had been taught. Sure enough, there it was. Now I had to be quick. I grasped the candle and brought it to the flame. Wick not millimetres from the flame, I realised something wasn’t right and closed my hand, extinguishing the fire. Something was in my room. It didn’t feel out of place though. Like it was meant to be there.

It must have been an eternity. Nothing stirred in the house. Nothing moved outside. It was never this silent. I was terrified.
Go to mum. RUN.
But my legs wouldn’t obey. I just sat there, in the suffocating silence. Listening as though my life depended on it.
Something crashed. I started. I heard a male voice, low and gruff. My mother replied, her voice too low for me to make out any words, but I could tell she was afraid.
“NO! Leave her out of this!” She was shrieking now.
The intruder was saying something. Words I didn’t understand. Suddenly the light around the edges of my door flashed a brilliant white, and a wave of heat engulfed me. Tears screamed down my face. Blood pouring from my lip, I’d almost bitten clean through in an effort to stop myself screaming.
The window of my room clattered open. I couldn’t help it, I howled my fear to the heavens.
Helena! Get up! Get out of the house!
I scrambled to my feet. The presence in my room made itself felt again. Closer to me this time. I was by the window in no time. I stood with my back to the opening, staring at the door. I could hear heavy, booted footsteps getting closer. My heart threatening to burst through my chest.
The door opened. I tried to scream, but I was no longer in my own body. I was watching from the window. Watching the door open and a hooded figure slide through the gap. Then something weird happened. I watched him draw his dagger and step towards the me that was trapped by her fear. As he drew back his arm to strike, he was sent flying backwards. Demolishing the wall he hit.

Don’t worry Helena. I’m watching over you. Rest now.
Then everything went black.

This post has been edited by Count Lauriel: Nov 13 2010, 05:46 PM

[Count Lauriel]

Rihanae, thanks. It's good to know you're reading. I will definitely be expanding on the prologue in coming edits, so don't worry. You'll learn more about her friends.

Acadian, it's always a joy to have you read what I write. Thank you.

Subrosa, thank you for your advice. I do feel better about the first part. I practically forced myself to write tha last bit, and it obviously didn't come out as well. I'll take your suggestions on board and have a rethink. Haha! Epic picture. Sadly however, his name is nothing more malicious than the name of a Crimson Glory song. I quite often include references to bands I like. For example, the title of this thread is a direct reference to Wintersun. There are a few others too.