Sunday Scribblings is celebrating their 200th prompt! Yay! I've always liked the site and think this would be a good time to return to inspired writing (the last time I participated in a Sunday Scribbling was April 2008).
If this is new to you, this is how it works: mid-week an idea or subject is posted on Sunday Scribblings blog, you write blog post inspired by the given theme, after posting you share what you wrote with a link on the original site.
I still want to edit and finish my nanowrimo novel "Across Eldamar." I am having trouble sorting out some of the details and fixing plot wholes in the first draft. For the next while I am going to use the writing propmt to focus on the characters, world, or history of Eldmar (any of which may or may not end up in the final draft). This is my first piece:
An Abby and Across Eldamar Story
Exhaustion did not begin to communicate the fatigue Abigail was experiencing. With each step she took her feet, legs, and joints seemed to scream in agony. The simple act of lifting one foot to place it in front of the other required her to pool all her energy and willpower. With each movement she became weaker. After every fourth step she needed to stop and catch her breath while mentally preparing for the next four steps.
It had been like that for the past four days. Abigail was beyond tired. She had been walking from sun up till sun down stopping only to eat or sleep. She had kept going in hopes that she would reach Elvenhold by dusk but each night darkness came with no indication she was any closer to the city.
The hill she climbed now seemed endless. Despair was setting in enticing her to quit. She wasn't a pilgrim; she wasn’t even a hiker or athletic for that matter. This wasn't her journey. This wasn't even her world. She had been given a mission and answers to find but what did it matter to her if she didn’t completed this quest? It was these thoughts that convinced her to rest when she saw the giant granite slab not far ahead. Abigail hobbled over to the rock and unloaded the burden from her back. Then collapsed, leaning against the stone where she drifted off to sleep.
When Abigail woke hours later it was late afternoon. Hungry she found food in her pack. She observed the country side while she nibbled at the dry bread and cheese. This world was beautiful but it was the first time she had really noticed. It was like a forgotten Eden. While trudging along she missed the beauty because she was to focus on her pain. The forest and mountains were breath taking. It was hard to believe she had walked so far. It was then she noticed the rock she had been leaning against. It seemed under the years of plant growth hid some message etched out in the stone.
She rubbed away the moss that had grown over the weather worn carvings. She could read the strange Elven runes thanks to the magical amulet her great grandmother had given her. The stone said "A Mile to Elvenhold." A mile? Only a mile to Elvenhold, her destination? She could walk another mile. One mile that would end her journey. She could even be there with in the half hour if she started now. She rose to her feet with renewed energy.Gently returning her pack to her shoulders she was ready. Moments later she was on the path again, walking away from the milestone and on to Elvenhold, where her many questions should be answered.