₦airaland Forum

Good morning guys. I've been seeing a writing physician (if you'd permit the word) and I'm still trying to get the hang of things as I've discovered I've been doing a lot of things wrong. It's been recommended that I rewrite many things again but I'll spare you that. You'll only see changes in my subsequent updates. I hope to complete this work and move to another soon enough.

There are other platforms I have discovered that are more beneficial to my writing development and I may have to move ship. Not that NL isn't a great place, it's just that there aren't great critters here.


What do you think?


#Made of more!

larride:
Wow.. This is just wow.

I'm glad you liked it.

He arrived at the library shortly after leaving the house. All the way, he kept his hands in his pocket and it was more than just the cold that was edging closer to his chest. He had jogged some distance to allow some steam build up. He kept having visions of him falling off the cliff and it frightened him. He hoped he wouldn't be missing in action when he was needed.

The library today had visitors, some already purring over books while some were scanning the book shelves for their preferred book. He walked straight to the counter to meet with the librarian.

"Wow, if it isn't you, up and strong again. Yesterday, you were looking like you wouldn't survive the night and today yore here again. "

George gave him a shrug and leaned towards the counter. He whispered just enough for only him to hear.

" I think I may know how to save Dathan but I'm going to need your help."

The old man gave him a quizzing look before beckoning on him as they left to an inner section. There were no new books here and the only source of light was from outside. He sneezed twice and had a pat on his back. They settled on a table with three and a half legs. It was just able to hold their weight but not without the occasional swing from side to side when they tended to exert too much of their weight.

"The solution had been coming to me in a vision. I think the Thorne staff is the solution. I believe it has chosen him. I've been having these visions of him wielding the staff and they blend into a seamless whole. "

He allowed some brief moment of silence and when the old man didn't speak, he continued.

"We need to get the staff to him. I think somehow, the staff has found a way to weave into his essence."

"How do we go about getting it? "

" We have to find a spell that summons it. Can we get that? "

" I suppose we can. I'll scan through the books to see what I can find. "


They spent the better part of the morning searching through books but he couldn't find one that revealed the spells.

Mid afternoon, Harris walked in looking tired. George had been so focused on discovering the spell that he had forgot to ask about Harris.

When Harris came close, George could see that his clothes were newly torn like he had been in a fight.

"What happened to you?"

"Is it that obvious? "

" Yes, it is. "

Harry walked towards the door, his back to George. He held onto a globe that had gold dust floating peacefully on its inside.

" I had a fight with Nora! "

George looked up suddenly from the books. It was the least thing he was expecting to hear. He had come to think that the two of them were the perfect definition of friends. No doubt, he was wrong. You only have to be with people long enough to know their true state. Thers always something beyond the surface. But, he really wished things wouldn't always have to be like this. He hated the atmosphere, the fog of bottled up emotions that lingered, it's essence always managing to escape though unspoken whenever friends were at a silent war against one, the other.

"What happened? "
Harry didn't look back. He was trying to hide the bitterness from his eyes.
" She blames me for allowing an intruder to come into our long time friendship. She says we’ve allowed ourselves to become entangled in a mess which may see our end. “
“Your end? What does she mean? “
“I really don’t know. She’s been all shades of weird these days. She’s going through some hard times but she wouldn’t share and it’s eating her up. “

“Where’s she? I have to meet her.” He got up from his chair and headed towards the door but was stopped short by Harris.
“You don’t want to do this! “ Harris said with a plea evident in his voice.
“Why not! How can she have a problem with me and be taking it out on another?” he was shouting and Harris had to give him the calm down gesture.
“I asked her this morning and she said she was.. “
He suddenly recalled that he had met her at the corridor on his way out but had been too carried away to have noticed that she might have wanted to speak with him.
The door opened rather hurriedly and the librarian, the old man came in.
“I heard noises. Hope everything is fine? “
George lifted his head from the book he had buried his guilty expression. He spoke with a soft, barely audible tone.
“We’re fine, Mr, Pencil.”
“Alright then,” he said letting himself out before shutting the door behind him.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice on you. “

“Oh common. It’s perfectly understandable. “

“But, I have to see her. I want to talk to her. “

“Alright then, she was at the weeping stream .”

“Thanks.” He got up to go. He held the door open and bent to tie his shoe lace which had come undone.
“And by the way, she was with the staff!“

Good pm.

I'm thinking maybe I'll just drop something... So the wait won't be too long.
I've been learning quite a lot.. About writing fast and consistently, about publishing and even learning ghost writing.

I want to make a career out of writing...

There's more to expect...

Remind me not to write a very long book again.


#Madeofmore!

Dranoid:
Pabon! Pabon!! Pabon!!!
You are one hell of an amazing writer
2013-2017 fa, I lost track of the story and I had to start over and I'm finally here (I must confess rereading it was not boring) waiting patiently for the end.
You've been doing a very good job.




This one wey Nora sha dey catch Cordelia and George in tight positions shey e no go cause fight bayii?

#MadeOfMore

I've been off for long. Currently serving my country. My phone got damaged while I was in camp and I haven't gotten used to typing on this one cos it's way smaller.

I'll be back. I'm made of more.

Temmason:
2013-2017

Yeah. That's why I've stopped updating. I will only post when I'm finally done... And it isn't far away..

cyber5:
Give us more bro

I will when I have more juice..

#MadeofMore

Good morning guys.

How's been the week?

He opened his eyes to see Cordelia sitting at his bedside. He looked to the window which blind had been shifted to make way for the soothing rays of the early morning sun. She looked worried.
“What’s going on? “
She turned on hearing him and looked into his eyes for some brief moment before opening her lips.
“You’ve been acting abnormal ever since the cave incidence. I’m just worried we might be losing you. “
George sat up and found his way behind her on the bed and he looked into her eyes.
“There’s so much going on right now and sometimes, I feel like I’m going to fail everyone, like when the time comes, when it matters the most, I won’t be there, won’t deliver as expected. “
She took his hands and covered them with hers.
“George, don’t think like that. You don’t have to bear the burden alone. That’s why we are here. We’re family, at least for now. Let’s help you. I believe our destinies are intertwined. We were meant to help you, defend the realm and get your home and people back.”
“Thanks” was all George could mutter as they locked in an embrace. Just then, his mind ran to the staff. He disengaged from the embrace and stood up. He removed the robe he was wearing and got a blue sleeved shirt on. He got his pants on too and bent to tie his shoes.
“I’ve got to do something. I’ll be back.”
“But… “ He was out already and was jogging his way when he passed Nora on the corridor. She was facing backwards like she was coming from his room, at least he knew his room was the only one in that direction.
“Were you looking for Cordelia, cos she’s in my room. “ She was hesitant to reply and seemed to have misplaced her diction. When she spoke, it was squeaky.
“No. I’m fine. I’m…… Good. “
George wasn’t sure she was alright and it didn’t look like she believed it herself. But he had some more urgent matters to take care of.

“Alright then, I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get to the library.”

He rode on the back of the Stag till he was at the middle of the war front. The enemies guised in Miritian armor were looking every inch set as their long spears and razor-sharp swords showed. It was times like this that George wished he was dreaming, that someone would pat his shoulders and tell him it’s morning but this was the real deal. The battle of Elyse had come and he was at the forefront of it.
“We are here today, fighting for our honor, our kingdom will not go out just like that. Today, know that you are in the greatest place we would ever be. For long, we prepared ourselves for this. Your years of intense training, your months of strategizing is finally going to be tested here. Remember, we who we are and the blood that flows in your veins. Miritian came to our world, our kingdom, took our wives and lands and chained our children as slaves. The time has come to make everything right. We will match strength for strength, we will not relent till they a bent, we will not stop until they’ve all been toppled. We will show them what it feels like to be wronged. Men of the realm are you ready?!”

He got a resounding and earth quaking YES.
He noticed movement behind him and one soldier, was edging forward, he could smell the adrenaline oozing from him. The dude was at his side in no time, his eyes focused on the slowly approaching enemies. George turned to give him the reassuring nod of affirmation when he caught sight his weapon. Instead of the traditional Eustanian steeled sword, he had a staff, the staff of the Thorank King. George shifted closer to him almost falling off from his horse to peer into the helmet, indeed it was Dathan.

“What are you doing with the staff and how did you get it, again? “
He got no answer.
“I’m talking to you, Dathan! “
The dude still didn’t reply. He was forced to come down from the horse. He was going to shove him when he heard the shout of ATTACK.

What? Someone else gave the battle cry?
He stood there as the soldiers shouting launched an offensive at the enemy Miritian . He just stood there as they passed without so much as noticing his presence
When they had all passed he turned to look at the battle and he caught sight of Dathan skillfully manipulating the scepter. He shot bolts of lighting and destruction with artistic alacrity. George could only wonder how he was doing it. Then, he noticed footsteps behind him, he couldn’t turn and slowly his hands went for his sword stashed safely at his side. He felt for the handle but it wasn’t there. His heart skipped a bit, then two, drops of sweats that he hadn’t noticed started forming on his forehead as he turned to face his predator.
It was a she and in her hand was the same sword that not long ago was at his side.

“Flumensia! “
She just waved her hand and the power bolt faded. His fears gained more height, now almost at his head. She walked slowly towards him and he retreated too till his back hit his horse. He turned and tried to climb the horse faster but the horse wasn’t cooperating. She got to where he was and when she was just an inch away from his face, she leaned in and kissed his forehead.

He woke up with streams of sweat rolling down his face. He was on the floor with the pain on his bottom building. He found rubbing it a bit soothing. He cleaned the sweat from off his face with the back of his left hand while using his right to support himself as he got up and headed for the wardrobe. He got out a robe, sky blue it was and wrapped it around himself his hands folded around his chest. He looked towards the window and found the drapes apart and the shutters wide open. There was the reason for the shivering. He had forgotten to shut the window before leaving the house and now he had the cold to punish him and of course, the books that had been on his study table had also been wet and several pages had become less illegible. He found it less painful walking away from the book for he could now think of other things, like the hunger that was stirring up a war on the inside of him.
Pushing open the door, he let himself enjoy the warmth outside of his room. His eyes though needed some adjustment to the darkness. He didn’t want to start a fire so as not to wake up the others. He found his way to the kitchen and helped himself to some leftover slices of bread and some stew.
He sat down at the kitchen table and allowed his mind to wander as he ate away his hunger. Munch by munch, bits of the dream came playing back like a cracked record.

What could he have been looking for on that rice field? Would saving Dathan lead to his death?
He gulped down a large quantity of the stew raising the bowl to his mouth, the spoon not doing the job, or rather too slow, inadequate to pacify his hunger.
The staff though! How had it gotten back to Dathan’s hand?

He leaned back in his chair and allowed his mind to once again run around the dream.
What if the staff had been what he had dropped, what he desperately needed? And Dathan in the picture meaning it was going to restore him back to himself, the mean dude that he was?

There was no way to find out now because the last he remembered, the staff was safely tucked into the phalanges of the dead king. He knew he could never go back there at least, not till he knew how to handle the monstrous being, whatever it was, that lurked in the dark.
He got up and began pacing the floor. His mind went back to the librarian. Who would have thought that he was the father of such a roundish, wobbly legged boy.
The world definitely wasn’t short of surprises.
He went back to bed lying on his side, his face to the wall, wondering when all the weights on his shoulder were going to be taken off. He wondered what would become of his people should he fail. His heart was heavy and it wasn’t long till the shadows of the dangling flame emanating from the candle stick he had lit was nothing but a blur to his subconscious.

He got home that night and went straight for bed amidst shouts of concerns from everyone. He just waved and told them ‘I’m fine’, not sure they’d take him for his words are not caring either. Right now, all he needed was his sleep. He got rid of the wet clothes and without even caring to wear something else, he slept off.

His sleep was relatively peaceful, at least the first quarter. He just let turning over and over.
He must have slept close to three hours when the first of it came to him.
He was in some rice field, trying to make his way out. It was a vast array of land and it stretched beyond the scope of his vision. He kept looking downwards, pushing leaves and tassels here and there. He must have dropped something. He kept walking looking down until suddenly he came to the edge of a cliff. He had to hold himself back to prevent dropping to his death. He bent his back, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. That was one lucky escape. He felt something poke his back. Turning around, he sees Dathan grinning wildly at him. He couldn’t voice his confusion and didn’t have time to either as he wielding the Thorank staff pointed it at George who was forced involuntarily down the cliff. This time he found a voice, a loud one at that!

nkemdave:
In George's magic voice I am conjuring inspiration, Estusala! Estusala!! Estusala!!!

Lol

Good evening I've got the feeling that I should write but donno if I should
I'm not getting the creative ideas but I'm just in the mood...

#MadeOfMore