Pearl of Zoaras

Author: Jeunessa
From: Vancouver, Canada
Age: 14
Date: 3rd Jul 2000, 6:46 PM
Rating: 5
Comment:
Title: Pearl of Zoaras



Chapter 2

Prince Bryan was hard at work in the archive. He was the official recorder of all the events that happened in Fairfield. Fairfield had a pretty much boring history, in Bryan’s opinion. There was never much to record. Usually the old, yellow pages of the Book of Records, were only filled with everyday events; prices going up in Ancarta Village; poverty rates in Ancarta Village increases; Amighalre Farm’s cows stop producing milk, etc. Bryan reached down and petted Arvin, his beagle, who whimpered. Bryan turned off the dim light coming from the old lantern mounted onto the ceiling. The dark room smelled of old wood and dusty books. He climbed up the stairs with Arvin right behind him.
Bryan opened the door and was momentarily blinded by a burst of light. He squinted his eyes and used his hand to block the sunlight. He stretched his back, groaning. "Oof!" Someone ran smack into him.
He looked down. Corlette looked up at him grinning sheepishly. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Corlette stood up and ran down the long corridor, her pounding footsteps echoing after her. Sunlight poured into the tower’s open windows. Bryan shook his head and started down the winding stairs.

As Bryan entered the dining room, a flash of white shot past him. Greatly stunned, he stared before him. There was his little sister again, flying around the dining room table, and unsetting the china. A tall man strode up to the hyper little girl and stopped her in her tracks. Bryan’s laughter echoed around the large room. He walked over to the table and sat down.
"How is the recording doing, son?" the tall man questioned, adjusting the heavy crown upon his head. Bryan shrugged his shoulders. The king, obviously frustrated, removed the hefty crown and set it down on the table. Corlette, very angry indeed, sat down next to her father. Soon after, they were joined by Queen Anne, a smile plastered upon her freckled face. She sat slumped in her chair. She was heavily scented with perfume from the flowers.
The maids appeared with plates of cake, muffins, cookies, and many other delicious items. Tea and coffee was served and as soon as the maids were gone, the family dug in. King Peregrine loaded his plate with cheesecake with sprinkles and assorted shortbread cookies. Queen Anne helped herself to a blueberry muffin and a chocolate chip cookie. The prince was stuffing himself with carrot cake and cupcakes topped with cream and various nuts. Princess Corlette polished off some peanut butter cookies and seized a slice of apricot cake.
After the bunch of them were finally satisfied, they sat around the fireplace. Servants turned on all the lamps in the castle as the sun went down. Windows were closed and locked. The cooks in the kitchen had began to start the evening meal, and the king and queen were napping. The sound of the scratching of Corlette’s pencil on the crisp new piece of paper was the only noise heard in the massive living room of the castle. Prince Bryan was out in the courtyard walking Arvin.
Corlette’s pencil flew across the paper as fast as her mind raced. She had always been anxious to paint a painting of the sunset. When the pencil was put down, Corlette got up and opened the stain-glassed window. The soft colors of the sunset stippled the measureless sky. Streaks of the same colors appeared on the paper. Corlette moved her hand across the page, applying soft strokes of color. A gust of wind blew into the castle and swirled around the painting. The wind was gone as soon as it had come. Corlette’s mind wandered back to the painting. The color was different. It did not look like paint anymore. It seemed more real, like the color of the actual sunset. And even if you could not see it, you could feel the presence of the wind in the painting. Corlette’s eyes grew bigger and bigger as she stared at her painting. Her mother’s garden, briefly painted without details, appeared more detailed and looked existing. The red roses were tinted with a unusual glittering that
couldn’t possibly be painted. The dull colored grass was now sprinkled with dew and glistened. Pocahontas was right. It is possible to paint with the colors of the wind.


A Storyteller Topic - Great Stories About Anything
So many things to write about - so little time. Let your imagination run wild and share your story with other kids from all over the world.

Read the latest Great Stories
Read past Great Stories
Publish a Great Story of your own!

GETTING AROUND
Home
Kids Activities
Special Needs Corner
Special Needs Software
Learning Resource
Educational Books
Educational Toys
Learning Resources

Useful & Practical Ideas
Learning Disabilities
ADHD
Learn to Spell
Learn to Read
Learn to Write
Learn Mathematics
Practical ideas
Kids Activities
Children's Stories
Kids Art
Scrambler
Automaths
Math Games
Base Ten Count
Mega Scrambler
Print Activities

Harry Potter

Pokemon
   
Recommend this page
Links
Feedback
Privacy policy
About us
Famous Artists
E-mail
Kids Fun
 
Copyright © 1997 - 2007
Education by Design.
All rights reserved.