If you remember, my name is Dawn. I started anew because of the confusion. Welcome. I am shaken by the news of Zarin's to-be death, but can still write.
We have come back to the small village to celebrate the Festival of the Rising Moon, but I know it will not be the same this time. I am scared that any day will be the day Madame Rizzoni promised, and I am ready to protect Zarin with my life. I woke up in a sweat. I had the dream again. Zarin was still being torn by the dark mongrels. Uggg.
"Dawn? Are you ready? The festival is about to begin," said Zarin. We have been living in Vastile, a small town outside of the village for about a year undercover a farmers. There are knights everywhere searching for us. A war is waging and they want us to be safe in the castle, but Zarin and I believe that we would be safer out here. When we stepped outside the cottage, fireworks lit up the sky and and spirit horses flipped and twisted, the wind breezing through their feathers. We walked past the wrestling wring and Zin waved to me, inviting me over. If you remember the chubster whose butt I kicked last time then you know Zin. Zin and I are now very good friends. He trains with Zarin near the oak tree in the back of our farm. I gave him a weak slash encouraging smile and walked on with Zarin, tightly grasping his arm. "Try to enjoy it," Zarin said as he squeezed me then laughed, "I think your more scared then me." I frowned and clung to his arm tighter.
No comments:
Post a Comment