Without bothering to even look back, Clary immediately left the happy and safe atmosphere of the brightly lit little house that rested up top the small hill, setting off into the unknown. Her small hands gripped the leather reins, while she rode through the familiar village in which she'd learned to call home over the last several years. The town was usually ridiculously cherry and tranquil at night. Red brick shops, including the bakery, small bookshop, and other business's sat in perfectly adjacent straightened cordial rows. Many of their doorway's lit brightly by soft lanterns. Plants growing in pots added a nice touch and splashes of color to the establishments, which interrupted the annoying, continuous cobblestone pathway on which Wayfarer …show more content…
She'd watched ever so slowly as the lovely countryside around them changed drastically: One moment everything was bright and happy, as it should be, and the next it was dark. The wooded area had morphed into much deeper, dark one's. She noticed that the tree's no longer had leaves, revealing thin scraggly branches. Each of them, she examined closely upon further inspection, looked to take the appearance of long, grotesque fingers. Fear rose inside of her heart, but she took a deep breath, swallowed, and held her head high, and continued after the trail which her father's horse had left behind.
Finally at, Clary and Wayfarer finally made it to the castle from which the poor, frightened scared horse had escaped from earlier the previous night. A gasp escaped Clary's lips, as she looked up at the tall iron gates which seemed to be attached to the very wall itself. She now stood before the gigantic structure, which seemed to radiate and pulse with an aura of negative energy and pure coldness. A shudder ran through her small body, as a bolt of lighting flashed in the darkened sky, illuminating the grounds. Wayfarer stopped dead in his tracks not bothering to move another
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Steady, be still," Clary said, as she slid down from the horse, and onto the ground. Placing her left hand against the right side of his large face, she buried her cheek into his soft, warm fur. "I promise you, I'm going to rescue father and we'll be all right." He snorted in response, before she took ahold of the reins and led him forward. Much to her surprise, the iron gate swung open, allowing them to enter. As she helped him through the rusted gate, her green eyes took in the scenery around her.
The castle's grounds had long started to decay from not being taken care of, nor tended too for so long. Everything seemed so lifeless and dull including the flowers which had long wilted away. Their once beautiful, vibrant petals were stripped of any color, brown and withered. The once bright beautiful grass was a dull yellow and faded brown as well. Moss had begun to grow over the statues and fountain, up to the point where a passerby could not admire nor tell them apart anymore. The beauty of the earth was gone.
A sigh escaped Clary's lips, as she quickly walked across the stone bridge towards the front door, with Wayfarer slowly moving behind her. On the left side, she noticed an orange light coming from what appeared to be a stable. Inside, it was much warmer. Piles upon piles of golden straw were piled high against each of the invidiual stalls which were empty. The first one had
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
The story begins when Clary returns to the institute and receives a text from Isabelle, saying that Jace has frustrated the Inquisitor and has been jailed in the Silent City. While sitting in his chamber, Jace hears something attacking the Silent Brothers and discovers that Valentine has killed them to get the second Mortal Instrument which is the Mortal Sword. So Clary, Isabelle, and Alec respond to a call from the Silent City, only to discover the assassination of the Silent Brothers. Clary frees Jace using an improved version of the opening rune, only for the Inquisitor to appear and accuse Jace of going along with Valentine, since Jace was going to go on trial by the sword, but now it is gone. Magnus Bane volunteers to keep Jace locked up in his apartment, in which he and the others try to figure out Valentine's possible plans.
in distress, and majestic castles hidden from the vulgarity of daily life by the cool shade of fragrant magnolia and honeysuckle. It was a time and place so far removed from
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
With only the moon and stars to guide her, she picked her way down to the trucks, where a few embers of the fire remained. She could hear something that sounded like wind On the ground were unidentifiable lumps that seemed to be moving in the nonexistent breeze. On the front of one of the looming vehicles was a blood stain. Emmaline crept toward it. On her way there she accidentally stepped on one of the lumps and heard a man-like squawk. She looked down and saw two eyes glistening in the moonlight and an open mouth still. She slowly turned around in a circle. The lumps that Emmaline had assumed to be tree stumps earlier were now rising from the ground and shouting. Fear was welling up inside Emmaline but she told herself to stay brave for Edgar’s sake and she let out a deafening battle cry and charged at the nearest man. He ran towards the blood-stained truck and jumped up into the cab, Emmaline close behind. The soldier shut the door in Emmaline’s face and she turned around. The other men were all packing up as fast as they could. Emmaline stayed until every truck had left, watching silently with an evil glare. Then she raced back up the hill to join her Father and
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves. ( This description of the scenery is very happy, usually not how one sees the world after hearing devastating news of her husbands death.)
The rain cried as if the heavens had torn apart and came down to Earth to show its sorrow, beating a gentle yet violent tattoo on the roof. The cool breeze blew fiercely through the shelter sending a shiver down Liesel’s spine, awakening her from her slumber. She peered through the rotten sheet of linen that barely covered her shrivelled, thin body as the sound of little feet and nibbling rustled through her ears. Not of the children, but of mice, eating their way through her pillow; an empty potato bag. She heaved herself up, and staggered off the cement floor, wondering if it was wet or stone cold. Her head spun as she stood for a minute leaning against the mouldy walls to get her orientation back.
The gate latch groans as she slips it open. She murmurs quiet assurances to the wood, and the squeal of rusty hinges softens, falling noiseless by time she resets the handle. Her breath, she holds at the base of a black poplar tree. Her bag, she drops between the potted plants crowding the yard. Her head, she tilts back. A long breath pours out into the night.
She was not scared when their steps grew louder, disrupting the sleeping town. What could she have wanted more than to join her children who were murdered at the hands of these same men? She let them beat down the door as she watched through the window. Candles flickered out and the spices shuddered as the door swung open, sending dust throughout the room.
Inside the nicely decorated room with taupe walls just the perfect hint of beige, lie colorful accessories with incredible stories waiting to be told. A spotless, uninteresting window hangs at the end of the room. Like a silent watchman observing all the mysterious characteristics of the area. The sheer white curtains cascade silently in the dim lethargic room. In the presence of this commotion, a sleepy, dormant, charming room sits waiting to be discovered. Just beyond the slightly pollen and dust laden screens, the sun struggles to peak around the edges of the darkness to cast a bright, enthusiastic beam of light into the world that lies beyond the spotless double panes of glass. Daylight casts a dazzling light on the various trees and flowers in the woods. The leaves of fall, showcasing colors of orange, red, and mustard radiate from the gold inviting sunshine on a cool fall day. A wonderful world comes to life outside the porthole. Colossal colors littered with, abundant number of birds preparing themselves for the long awaited venture south, and an old toad in search of the perfect log to fall asleep in for the winter.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
The wretched sack was ripped off her head, along with some of her hair. She was yanked back by the neck of her dress, forced into a kneeling position. Ropes wrenched at her wrists and ankles, tearing at her scabs. Cautiously, her eyes slid open to blinding pain as she stared into the sun. At first, she could only pick out the most prominent details, but the blurriness gradually faded. She felt groggy, as if she had been knocked out. Trees
Merit walked upstairs only to suddenly stop in his tracks when he noticed a large painting on the wall in front of the staircase. His heart skipped a beat and he ran into his bedroom. He dropped his bags on the floor and caught his breath.
Watching the window not knowing why she tossed and turned feeling an uneasiness that she could not shake. The thunder rumbled softly and the lightning on the horizon flashed light across the bedroom walls. The wind began to whistle loudly around the log home. Jenny felt uneasiness, and softly reached to touch the shoulder of Blade. Not awakening him she decided to slip quietly out of bed to peek in the distance of the upcoming tragedy that she never thought would happen. As she moved sleathfully around the house, the windows seemed to rattle an alarm. The wind now not only whistled but wailed in the surrounding pine woods. Not knowing what to do Jenny sat in the living room window searching for a tragedy she felt was about to con some her life