I've always wanted to write this sort of story. I'd have to add shinobi though, since this is part of the 'fanbase', and for you fans to relate.
Focus: This story will follow a reluctant hero, one who seeks to live in freedom and in peace, and yet the world forces itself upon him, or rather the a hero's duty keeps pressing on him. So he never finds that peace, and instead gives his life up for the world.
There will be another protagonist, one who was born to lead, but does not desire that task. Soon she realizes she is the only one who can lead the world back to it's course, and save it from the brink of destruction.
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Abandonment
Focus: This story will follow a reluctant hero, one who seeks to live in freedom and in peace, and yet the world forces itself upon him, or rather the a hero's duty keeps pressing on him. So he never finds that peace, and instead gives his life up for the world.
There will be another protagonist, one who was born to lead, but does not desire that task. Soon she realizes she is the only one who can lead the world back to it's course, and save it from the brink of destruction.
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Abandonment
It was cold that day. Oh, so bitterly cold.
I remember the frosty wind that had mercilessly knifed through my thin, grey clothing, and had ruffled my silky, silvery hair that usually touched my shoulders. My small body was almost ice; my tiny feet were soaked through, because of my thin shoes which were treading upon the icy road.
The only sense of warmth I had felt came from my little hand, which was clasped so tightly by a taller lady whose silvery hair mirrored my own.
We had walked together up the road.
It seemed to be a busy day. Crowds of people were bustling up and down the steep road in a rush, probably to avoid the snow storm that was already thickening.
Abruptly, we stopped walking.
The woman knelt down to my height, and soon grey eyes were looking deeply into my own. Her pale face was serious, her expression both pleading and worried. She bade me to stay where I was, and to wait for her.
Then she left. Drifting into the crowd.
I waited, taking in my surroundings.
The bustling people on the street looked giant and menacing, especially to an eight year old boy like me. Some passing by stared at me, others glared coldly. But by most, I was ignored.
I continued to wait.
Angry snowflakes fell from the great grey sky. No, it was more like a mixture of snow and rain.
But still my feet were stubbornly planted on the ground, not moving an inch. I was told to wait.
My hands were reddening; my bones were beginning to chill.
Still she had not come back.
The day was darkening; my body was starting to shiver.
Still, she had not come back.
My feet were tired from standing, my breathing becoming slower and laboured.
But still she had not come back.
My vision was beginning to haze.
She never came back.
I am still waiting.
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I know it's small. But hey, it's a prologue. The chapter I have in mind is much bigger. This is just a sample I guess.
Review my writing?
For those who may not have understood (maybe my writing is bad), this whole thing is a memory, or past tense. The last line, sort of indicates the present. This person is "still waiting".
I know it's small. But hey, it's a prologue. The chapter I have in mind is much bigger. This is just a sample I guess.
Review my writing?
For those who may not have understood (maybe my writing is bad), this whole thing is a memory, or past tense. The last line, sort of indicates the present. This person is "still waiting".
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