Writing of Mine

Just thought I'd post a clip of my writing up on this blog. If you want to share any writing, feel free! I love to read other writers' stuff. Here goes.

...Lonan had stopped listening by then. His eyes wandered once more to the walls and ceiling of the tunnel, where snatches of ragged fabric that had once been elegant and beautiful hung. It was still lovely, in an unusual way, with the pieces of different cloths all sewn together and the greenish light bouncing off of them...they were like perversions of castle tapestries. And near the water there were half-circles of blue rhinestones stuck to the stone, and inside each half-circle was scrawled a name.

"Graves," it dawned on Lonan suddenly. "They're memorials." Some were grander than others, with bits of stolen jewelry, fabric, and other fancies attatched. "Look!" whispered one soldier in a canoe behind Lonan and the king.

Ahead of them, vines hung from the ceiling of the arched tunnel. Flowers, too, and little gems that were glowing like stars were caught in the vines. The king looked repulsed, Lonan saw, looking over his shoulder at him, but the youth himself felt a strange happiness and longing: the Algera half of him was home.

As if her memory had caused it to appear, Lonan saw suddenly a great altar built upon the small bit of stone between wall and flowing water. It was covered with flowers, and bits of golden jewelry, and one magnificent idol of the Sun God. Lonan gasped at the name written in silver letters below the idol: Algera. This was the most adorned memorial. Street rat as she was, Lonan's mother had been honored among her kind.

"Aughh!" spat the king as their boats floated under the vines, the memorial slinking away beyond Lonan's vision. He swept the decorated vines from his face and gasped in wonder at the sight before his eyes...