Thank you for all your kind comments! I assure you, I read them about ten hours after you sent them, but I wanted to get a new chapter done before I answered
Elisabeth's passing had me in tears. You have an amazing way of conveying emotion!
This is your first attempt at writing a story in English? I am absolutely blown away. What a fantastic beginning to what I'm sure will be a riveting tale. I cannot wait to read more!
Wow, really? Thank you so much! I was really worried I wouldn't be able to convey enough emotion in English
Poor Rhea! I feel so sorry for her. I will definitely be following your story.
That's great! A follower! Yeah, I really feel with her. The scene by the fire was something I had planned for so long.
Yay! I'm so glad you decided to take the plunge. I look forward to seeing where this goes
Jep, after a failed try and loads of planning
Thank you for checking it out.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
All right, now I'm convinced this story hates me. It did it again. This time I decided I need just a few lines to describe how she came to Sunset Valley - and lo and behold, suddenly I have two pages. Hmm. Well, this time it's for sure - this time I
know I can't possibly write more prologue - I hope. Well, enjoy
~~~~
Prologue II - When you heed a certain call.That was when I began dreaming. Dreaming of colours, light. I could hear laughter reverberating in my ears, I could see flashes of smiles, love, and care. But it was only the briefest glimpses, always hovering just out of reach. Until one night.
It started out as the dreams always did, with a blend of laughter and caring eyes. I tried desperately to see more, to see every detail, every gesture. It was so frustrating. It felt as if I were peeking through a keyhole, never able to really see what was going on. I could only see the barest hints of the people inside. I saw flashes of brown, flashes of white. I saw a man's thigh, a woman's shoulder, but nothing else could be gleaned from lurking at the keyhole. Oh, how I wish I could open the door and join the joy in there.
And suddenly, the door disappeared, as well as the walls around it. No, I take that back. Everything but the room disappeared, the room enveloping me with a pleasant warmth. I saw clearly now. We were in a sitting room, three couches forming a horse shoe shape. The carpets were a soft cream colour, and the walls were warm yellow with red flowers painted on them. Along the walls hung pictures of various size and colour, with only one thing in common; They were painted with almost frightening skill. Every stroke, every blot of paint were placed so perfectly, so lovingly. I could see three men and five women sitting around the room. I saw a woman playing the guitar, her fingers dancing across the strings. Another woman was cheering at her, watching with an adoring smile. A man was likewise listening, watching her with the proud smile of a father. A young man was dancing to the music, showing the agility and strength of a man used to moving around.
In two of the couches sat the rest of the company, three women and a man. They seemed to be discussing something about their memories together, for the older of the women was patting the younger on the knee while the younger blushed, the man hiding a laugh behind his hand, and the blonde smiling serenely.
Just then the blond haired woman looked up, and our gazes met. She smiled at me with a mysterious air about her.
“Rhea,” she said to me. “You have arrived.” I watched entranced as the woman rose from her seat and started towards me.
“How- How do you know my name?” I ask, overwhelmed.
“Let's say we've been acquainted.” I was about to open my mouth to ask how, but she stopped me with a hand gesture.
“No time for that, now. We don't have much time. Now listen, and listen closely:
Times will flow and times will fly,
a daunting task you wish to try.
Life begins when life is ceased.
The pride and joy shall be released
into the world of sun and light
at time in which the time is right.
Oh Wife of Time, heed this call
comfort the children, do not stall,
help those in need, bring joy to all,
and educate them, catch those who fall.
Times will flow and times will fly,
and we shall see them mount and die.”
She looked me straight into the eye and says, “The Watcher has chosen you. But will you choose the Watcher? Choose well, Rhea Glaucus. Lives depend on it. If you don't, we would not die, we would simply – stop existing. Fade into nothingness. Be annihilated. Be no more.”
And all of a sudden, her serious demeanour disappeared like dew under the sun. She flicked her blonde hair and smiled at me. “Go for it, Rhea. We'll be rooting for you.” Around the room the others nodded in agreement.
“You go, lady!”
“You can do this!”
“Do it. For your sake and for ours.”
“Follow your heart, dear, it will never lead you astray.”
“Just make sure you don't hurt yourself.”
“We believe in you, young one. We know you will make Elisabeth proud of you.”
The blonde smiles at me again with a twinkle in her eyes. “Go on, Rhea Glaucus. Do the right thing. And always remember, you're not alone.
Times will flow and times will fly,
and we shall see them mount and die.”
That was when I woke up with the words of the poem echoing in my head. Times will flow and times will fly and we shall see them mount and die. What did it mean? Why would I see times mount and die?
Then her words came to my mind; “The Watcher has chosen you. But will you choose the Watcher?” Choose the Watcher? What would that mean? How could I – how could I choose this Watcher? So, feeling stupid, I closed my eyes and said, “I choose the Watcher” out into my dark bedroom.
Nothing happened.
I almost wrote it off as just a strange dream, when I had a thought; What if I needed to keep in mind why I chose the Watcher? What I wanted to do? A daunting task you wish to try...
So I closed my eyes again, this time keeping in mind what I wanted to achieve. I pictured my Mama, sitting on a cloud with white wings and a halo, smiling proudly down at me from under her ever present straw hat. I pictured myself, teaching and comforting the children of the town, seeing their beaming faces under graduation hats. I pictured the men and women from my dream, all happy and smiling. I don't know why I included them – it just felt right somehow. I imagined finding the perfect man – I imagined having three or four, maybe even five children, all raised with love and care. Then I tried saying it again with all these pictures in my head. “I choose the Watcher,” I said, now with more confidence.
At those words, I felt warmth and protection flooding through me, along with pictures snippets of a hundred, maybe more families, all working towards the same goal. I saw flashes of a woman with a blue flower in her hair, a red woman in a kimono, and a thousand others. I saw thousands of childbirths, graduations and marriages. I saw men and women, children and babies, dogs, cats and a few horses. Scenes flashed through my mind, proposals, luncheons, birthdays and deaths. And all this was accompanied by an ever present feeling of someone watching me – or maybe Watching me. Not in a bad way, the way you feel when you figure you have a stalker – more like the way you aren't afraid of climbing a tall tree, of mounting a horse, because you know someone will catch you when you fall, someone is there for you. Like the way you aren't afraid of the monsters under the bed, because you know your parents will help chase them away.
I was filled with a strength I never knew I had. I was filled with a sense of purpose. I knew I had to do this. I knew I had to raise a family from nothing and become truly extraordinary. I had to do it. For Elisabeth. For myself. For all those men and women in the dream. For the people. And finally, for the Watcher.
I felt a politely questioning probe against my box of memories in my mind, as if the Watcher (for I'm sure that was what it was) was asking my permission to have a look. It was truly strange, I'm telling you, but somehow not in an uncomfortable way. I shrugged and said, “But only a quick look, all right? Don't – don't dig too deep.” I felt an assuring pat on my mind, after which I felt the force flick through the memories.
The force warmed me through the cold memories, burned with anger at the worst ones, laughed with me at the funny ones and hugged me at the calm and happy ones. It was like having a friend to share your experiences with, a shoulder to cry on.
I was filled with a sudden feeling of urgency. Why waste my time? Why not get started right away? Why not start preparing, preparing for the task I have set out to take on? The force in my head sent me a questioning prod and a picture of a bed, but I shook my head. I had to get started now. So I turned on the bedside lamp, vaguely registering the red numbers on my clock radio; 4:17 am.
And so I began. I researched towns and locations until I found the perfect spot. In a little cranny of the world named Sunset Valley. It wasn't long until I found a lot I wanted to buy – a large one, a bit out of town. I spent nearly all of my savings on it, but it was worth it. It was a place for me to live. For me to put down my roots, and found a family. Only a week after the dream, I had packed my bags and was saying goodbye to the house. Mama's old rocking chair, the plump armchairs, the pictures on the mantelpiece.
It was sad to see it all go, to say goodbye to my childhood home. But at the same time I felt decided – I felt as if I could take on the world. I felt strong.
Sunset Valley, here I come.
