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After the Gathering Place: A Prelude to Magic
The Happening Antecedent and Subsequent of the Gathering at the Meeting Place Quaternion, we were told, would be our size. But merely, we are ternary. And one of us does not belong. I’m here today, however, due to them. Illegitimate, or Chosen, we should all be dead, alike in pallor to our two fallen comrades, whom we never met, at least not in life. Here, kneeling at their sepulchre, on what little paper I have, I write of the darkness that has articulated itself herewith, and its aggrandizement thereof. It was not a shining day. The sky had a countenance of grey, pale and lifelessness were its mood; wheresoever one looked, drear invaded and perused, drawing forth alacrity and draining felicity fore. The pitter patter of the eonian drizzle that came likewise with the pale and lifeless countenance above had managed to gloom our tribulation filled days further; preceding were days of beauteous weather, wondrously characterized by comfortability, lightness, and a jubilant breeze, now, post this seemingly miraculous weather, came days of, primarily, alacritous rain. I, due to my particular thaumaturgic tendencies, was ecstatic. But then it did not stop. And how then I fell into the despair that only an eternally monochrome sky can conceive; and likewise, the other two of our party despaired earlier and with more disheartenment, particularly she with the most antonymic inclination to the theurgy therewith. Thence, we had been left in utter despondency, and our progress hindered and insipid. And thenceforth, we are present. Forthwith of the apparently eternal rain’s inauguration, the duo that preceded our trio in our quest for a quartet, became three, although wrongly, unsupposedly and thankfully. She was an excompariot to her people, we came to learn, although by far the antithetical to us. Her power is incredible, and is the most potent in our trio; it is due greatly to her that we have persevered to this day, our lives thus indebted to her. There is not much I can further write as to her, as I am presently on my second to final page, and especially due to the encyclopaedic amount of information that I could expatiate over, not to mention the grand codex either of us could fill with mind yet unascertained. My second compeer, this one supposed and belonging to our cause, is greatly established with me in numerous affiliations: she is my greatest and most benevolent compatriot. We had met under fair circumstance, and on what i would presently say a preterpluperfect day, according to its etymological value. I presently refuse to describe such seeming wonder, as the current situation cannot conceivably contain any such detail, nor magnitude, of anything so beauteous, positive, and exuberant! Collectively, we meliorate ourselves, and had we been lacking one another, our demise would have unquestionably already have been upon us; we are terribly vulnerable, and the purport of my writing is to preserve a record of our likely ruinous endeavor, as our likelihood of prosperity is increasingly decreasing, and therewith exponentially: we are foredoomed. Or so circumstance suggests. The corruption of this domain has eventuated, and henceforth acceleratingly, due to a rather complex history imparted far aforetime, and its physical repercussion is our greatest adversary. I shall be leaving this documentation here at the sepulchre of our perished comrades, howbeit the preternatural deformation of this realm is particularly potent here, therefore it is greatly improbable that this will survive. Existence around us is literally tearing. Nature splits and mutilates, and spawns unholy and defiling monstrosities; the wondrous and captivating aspects of nature now are soiled and horrid. There are holes, discrepancies in physical reality, where a refraction of view occurs, and one may perceive things differently; rather, the appearance of the world is distorted. These preternatural, and what would seem extraphysical, occurrences are manifest. Things can come into conflux, and therewith corrupt, distort, and maim themselves; it is horrific, and most certainly engendering of a gruesome death. Treacherous as all is, forward we must go. I now run close to my end, and the corruption visibly advancing, I, we, must go, almost definitely into progressively precarious lands, likely to Farewell, I say to the fallen duo of a recent yore; but: a postscript that I must add: there is one here that is mine, and seems to be the genuine jubilance and protector of our trio: Arulia Almandine, the golden garnet of fire.
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-I had an amazing piece of artwork done by my "partner in crime", who is also my joint author of our full story, but I regret to say that TeenInk does not allow the use of personal images, which is a change I'd definitely like to see made.
Ultimately, I wrote this becuase I am being forced to enter a writing contest for my English class. However, I rather enjoyed writing this, and although the narrator was extremely out of character, this has definitely helped further a story that a friend of mine and I have been writing. I hope, actually, to see if anyone would enjoy reading literature written at this caliber. And by caliber, not to sound egocentric, I mean that I feel this type of writing is not common anymore and I want to know if this style is likable.
This was also written to test my capabilities, which I think it did so quite well. I also just very much want to here critique over it.
If there is anything I would like people to take away from it, it would be that everyone should be inspired to write like this, purely due to it being fun to write something and English teacher would have one analyze and slave over. Also, in general, value your friends, and it's going to be okay.
As a side note, the story that this is over is written nothing like this.