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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1598878
It is a fantasy, adventure and romance fiction with minute religious themes in it.
The mountains of the southern Aoel formed a dark snake like trail over the ancient land. In fact, from a bird’s eye it would be a snake curled protectively around its eggs, the plains of Velcarney. But the mountains were nothing mother-like, although it did protect the fellow valley dwellers from the alien world on its other side. It was ragged, steep and aged against the greenish plains, and anyone who dared cross was either foolish or powerful or maybe just merely lucky. The people of Velcarney believed that there were wolves, wild bears and other flesh eating monsters that walked the higher lands, and didn't venture out of their safe homes. Though, young, brave youth ready to prove their strength and valor, set out to hunt in the forests that sprang on the mountain's foot, returning with two or three dead rabbits and sadly, nothing more. It was also a popular rumor in the valley that the mountains were magic, and any one who set foot on it would get lost never to return home. 



One particular new moon night, something strange and unusual happened in the very peak of one such mountain. Black clouds were forming an inky blanket over the sky and it was drizzling. Flashes of lighting rung through the sky, and momentous light filled the summit, revealing a dark figure trekking over the blotchy ground, making his way higher and higher. Lucky for him, it wasn't winter or he would not have survived the ice caps that were present there in the colder seasons. He was about twenty, but his long silver hair made his look older. The long brown robes he wore looked like it would have seen better days. Between his air, tugged protectively was mysterious dark bundle and he carried a rather heavy looking sack on his back. His lanky figure was supported by a staff. When the lighting struck again, an exquisite looking purple stone that was affixed to the head of the staff caught the light and reflected it through out the summit for lieges, creating an impression of beatific twilight scenery for anyone who might have been present there.



The man didn’t look very healthy looking. His eyes had deep lines under it, and his face and hands were coated with grease and slime. His long hair and unshaven beard where thick with knots and dirt and he smelled vile. But he seemed like he was heading somewhere with a purpose his life depended on and excitement from having finally almost reached his destination showed in his brown eyes, blazing in with inner life. He was only an hour or so away from the end of his journey.



A cold wind picked up, then and the man shivered without any proper protection. The ominous surrounding suddenly seemed to close in on him, and the man came too a stand still when a lone wolf howled into the night sky, obviously alerting its mate before going for a hunt. He tightened the grey bundle to his chest and hastened his pace. Then a surprising thing occurred, and that is how our story starts. The unimpressive bundle in his hands started moving. A small human cry was emitted, picked up by the wind, travelling down the slopes to the still sleeping town. The man once again skidded to a halt, although this time, less scared and more worried. He brought the bundle near his face and whispered in his raspy, tired voice.



“Hush, now, little Mythlѐ. We will be home soon. I will make sure you are safe, darling. Just you wait. Once we reach there, you will grow up as happy as a princess!”

He kissed the bundle at its top and started his trek once more.  They were going down the slopes now, and it was not an easy job for the industrious man. He had to be careful not to take a misstep lest the baby be fatally injured. Sweat beaded his forehead and his brows frowned in concentration, and the raggedy breath he let out formed small white puffs before him. Further down they went, the easier it good and within an hour it was only a casual step he had to take, ensured that he was not going to meet any boulders or misplaced tree branched in that more softer path. His footsteps became more confident, and his shoulders became relaxed. Soon, a pack of cloud ahead of them cleared creating a small gap for them to get a view of the valley below them. It was simply beautiful.



Small, miniature houses of red and brown were arranged in rows and columns creating box like formations with black dots and masses on them that were the trees. Spidery mists of grey air escaped from the houses, arising from the fireplaces that would have been used earlier in the night. To the far-side, he could see the beginning of the rivulet, Mira that drained intoVelcarney . Even from this distance the waves of water lulling to and from the river banks could be seen, like a lioness liking her cub with equal sense of love and protectiveness; Mira was truly the mother of Velcarney.



The traveler smiled for he had never seen anything of such beauty and purity where he had grown. Compared to it he was walking the lands of paradise, and no less could be said. He rubbed his eyes to clear it off of the moisture that had entered it, due to pure relief of having achieved his goal which he had feared would not have been possible at all before. But now that they had entered the vicinity of Velcaney, he had no doubt of their success. He turned to the pale blue heavens above, which without his knowledge had been slowly brightening to the arising dawn. His eyes softened and he thanked the heavens above. They then started making their way down slope, waiting for the new dawn to arise, and maybe a new life

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