Email this sample to a friend


Written By Frederick R Fuller.


The year was seventeen thirty-six. The dark heavy threatening snow clouds were gathering above the south east of England. In this part of the country it was in January or February that the snow came if it came at all, so far this year it had stayed away, and these Wizards old bones were most thankful for that.

He had moved down from his old castle that he called his Manor to what his father being a light-hearted man had named ‘The Cottage’ (it being much closer to London). The Cottage was much smaller than the manor but even so had been built with its defense in mind. Its walls, Gargoyles and battlements were now covered in a thick blanket of ivy. Its only resemblance to the Manor was that they were both situated in the middle of very old oak tree forests and were both guarded by the mystical Gate Men. The big old oaks were now standing stark and bare against the morning light, there great branches reaching out in the cold light of dawn in an effort it seemed to touch and console each other. The squirrels and Tree Elves were curled up snug and warm inside the hollows of the older trees and would not venture out until the very early spring, even then only to gather the acorns that they had secreted away all through the summer.

Like his Father and those before him he was called Gwarcheidial, this translated from an ancient English language means Guardian. This ancient language had been forgotten by most a thousand or more years ago. The Fairies being unchangeable and steadfast in their loving ways still used it, and anyone chosen to become a Wizards apprentice studied it carefully as most of the ancient books they had to learn their skills from were written in it.

Previous Page Next Page Page 1 of 283