Friday, December 21, 2012

Final End To Mithest!

So I've finished writing the story Mithest here's what's left to read:

It rumbled a deep dark growl. She stifled a scream with her fist and stood still. Petrified with fright. The bear lifted one big paw with a swipe and slightly more than grazed her waist. She screamed in pain. And hurriedly ran out of the cave. Clutching her side she ran for her life’s being. Her feet danced over the soft, new, green, young grass. Weaving her way around the pine trees she thought she had out run the bear. She stopped to breath. She heard a twig snap. The bear was right behind her; charging. She moved out of the path of the bear and ran for it like there was absolutely no tomorrow. She was running so much and lost quite a bit of blood and she fainted. She woke up later in a small little hut full of the warmth of a fire and two people were sitting by it.

She groaned, the pain in her side was sharp when she moved, but when perfectly still was a dull throbbing pain. A woman in a simple gray dress of wool. Her hair very long and dark, almost black.  Her skin was a light tan color. The woman got up and walked over to the bed in which she lay.

“Hush,” said the woman quietly. “My name is Octavia. I am a sister of the Order of The Druids.”

Mithest looked at her and really wanted to just turn over and sleep but knew that it was impolite.

“Drink this,” said Sister Octavia. “I am well informed of the properties of berries and herbs. This broth should help renew your strength.”

Mithest looked under the covers at where she was cut. She could see a deer hide cloth bandage over her wound. It was soaked with blood. She was slightly embarrasses by the fact that she had no clothes. But didn’t really care at that moment.  “What happened?” she croaked.

“Brother Octavian,” Said Octavia,” the lady would like to know what happened. Please explain. Madam This is my husband Octavian.”

Octavian sat down and spoke,” Well, we heard a scream in the woods slightly away from here. Well, um, since we live in a kind of desolate place we had to take this quite seriously. We started to search for the owner of that voice. We had to hurry because a thunderstorm was coming. After about an hour of searching, and praying to the god of weather to hold off the storm for just until we could find the person. He granted us this and we looked for you. Then we stumbled upon your crumpled body on the ground, the moss around you soaked with blood. I picked you up and carried you here. And Sister Octavia bond your wound and we let you sleep.”

Mithest was suddenly aware of rain outside and immediately burst into tears. She thought about Zeke and was sad about it.  She realized she was making a fool of herself and stopped crying.

“Madam, please why are you crying and tell us your name?” said Sister Octavia.

“Ma’am, I’m crying because I’m thinking of my brother and my name is Mithest.”

They both took gasps. Octavian spoke, ”I’ve been by those who are priests that the spring goddess is by the name of Mithest.”

Mithest looked over to Octavia, who was praying. When she was done Octavia informed them that she was praying to the Great Mother Goddess. Mithest gritted her teeth at this thought. She HATED Basileke with a passion. She then fainted again. She woke up about a day later to see them both leaving. They told her that they were going to the meeting for Druids. They would have brought her but it was only for Druids. While they were gone she could feel her being dissipate into something immortal.

All of the sudden she was standing in the middle of the meeting of the gods and goddesses. She could see Basileke’s smug smile upon her face. She left the room, she had been shamed enough by Baileke. She wasn’t going to let anyone else gaze upon her naked form. She hurriedly got into a light yellow, billowing, cotton dress. She began plotting her revenge when she heard a knock at he door.

“Come in,” she said.

“Sister!” said Zeke.

“Give me a moment,” she thought for a moment and bestowed upon the two people who helped save her a blessing for the rest of their lives and their children’s lives and their children’s lives.

She threw herself to Zeke and hugged him. I saw your tears reflected in the sky upon the Earth. She laughed and cried at the same time. She lifted her skirts and looked at her waist. The scars were there. She almost started crying.

“Mithest, tell me what it was like to be mortal.”

“Oh, Zeke it was horrible. But it made me understand them more. I was almost killed by a bear then these two nice people took me in and saved me and I know have these scars.” She showed him the scars. “Then I was humiliated by Basileke. I shall exact my revenge.”


“With your help of course. Even tough she’s immortal we can still kill her for the fact we’re immortal.”

They plotted the revenge till the sky was very dark and they crept out of her room. Into Basileke’s room. When they set foot in there she awoke. “Get out! OUT!”

Mithest lifted her hand into the air and made an incantation of power. An orb of pink light was created in her hand. She threw it at Basileke who wasn’t ready for it took it badly. She screamed, “You brat!” and threw her own spell at Mithest. Who was ready and protected for the spell. After a while Zeke joined in and for hours it was a battle of wits, hate, magic, and power. By dawn Mithest and Zeke were battered and bloody while Basileke was dead, stone cold one the floor. They left. Not necessarily proud of what they did but they found what they did was needed for this society of immortals.

I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination



I couldn't write a good ending to the story. I've also decided to make this a blog about writing not just my stories. I'd like to for this post quote my other blog because it talks about writing really well.
Ever noticed how hard it is to write even a short story? The art of grammar is one foreign to most well EVERYONE! Yes, even you Mr. Big-shot-published-author! Even YOU. I'm Currently writing a story, I'll probably create a new blog to share these stories. My latest story would nee you to under stand the story of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett-Browning: during the Victorian era a girl named Elizabeth (affectionately know as Ba.) was the eldest of a family of twelve. With eleven sibling, eight brothers, three sisters. Her brother Edward died, she was devoted to him, she took it rather badly and became an invalid for about five years after that. Robert Browning read some of her poems and fell in love with her. After correspondence the eloped to Italy with the help of Wilson, the family maid.

My story takes place during this time but adds another character Florence Conway to help them elope.

enough about that, here are some tips I live by to write.
1. NEVER NEVER EVER confuse you're and your
2. Be careful of there, their, and they're
3. ALWAYS have someone check your work!
I always do #3 on the list.  And here's the blog upon which I've written stories. I need to edit it a bit. So please stick around the blog gets better I promise.

-Pop! Poppy

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-Pop! Poppy