Activity

@ariella-newheart I like Caedon! Does he pronounce it CAY-don? Or cay-EE-don? Also, what time-frame does he live in? I’m assuming not modern? He could live in modern times, I guess, but I see him as more medieval-ish.

Ha! One thing Caedon and Lucas have completely NOT in common is their opinion of storms… Lucas HATES storms. His older brother (good-naturedly) locked Lucas out of the house once when they were kids as a joke, during a huge storm. It was only for about half an hour, but it scarred Lucas for life.

Haha whoops… I’m gonna have to modify mine a bit to fit your descriptions of the hall XD   It’s nbd though lol. I just had a couple other pieces of furniture. And I guess no candles in the hall, either, huh. S’okay. I can deal with it 😀

___________________

(I’m writing mine as if Lucas got here first. But if you want something different, I can rewrite it!)

Lucas blinked. Once minute, he was sitting at his desk working on a new calligraphy technique, and the next, on the floor in what seemed to be the main hall of a castle. It was lit only by sunlight coming though the tall windows along one wall, and a lone candlestick, which sat on a large, round table in the middle of the hall. A map was spread out over it. Lucas thought he could see floating letters of some sort, fading to and fro in the air above the map. A pair of wooden, green doors led somewhere; outside, he assumed. From the hall, many similar doors, of many other colors, led off to other places in the mysterious place.

Lucas didn’t believe in magic, as such, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming or crazy, so he drew the conclusion that he must have been carried off, to wherever this was, by some greater force.

First things first, he decided, getting to his feet. What’s outside the main door? He tried pulling it open, then pushing, but it wouldn’t budge, as if the stone wall itself had been painted to look like a door, and handles attached. Paying no attention to the windows, since whatever was on the other side had no effect on him if he couldn’t get out, he studied the other doors. Red, blue, another set of green; they all looked equally promising. He noticed one, plain brown, and decided he liked the looks of it more than the others, whose colors were beginning to mess with his mind, all blending together. He found it opened easily, and, having taken the candlestick from the table, followed the corridor beyond it, through twists and turns and many corners, til he came to another set of doors. One was already open a crack, and he pushed it the rest of the way open, venturing into the room cautiously, not quite sure what he’d find.

Surprised and awed, he stared around him at the shelves and shelves of books that seamlessly lined the walls, up to the vast, domed ceiling where an intricate, golden candelabra hung. A large fireplace was blazing cheerfully, and along that wall there were no books. There were many tables, with comfortable-looking chairs around them, all with candles, globes, maps, quills and inkwells, open books, and many other objects sitting upon them. Setting his candlestick down on one table, Lucas walked around the room, looking at the various things that sat on the tables. Some he recognized; others, he didn’t. He climbed some of the ladders that slid along rails at the tops of the shelves, pulling books off and flipping through them, then re-shelving them.

After a few hours of this, he realized he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten since supper last night, having skipped breakfast to gather flowers to press. Having thought aloud that he could use a cup of good, hot coffee and a biscuit right about now, he selected an interesting book about the history of Beijing, and settled into a chair beside the fire. After a few minutes, he heard a door open, then close. Glancing up, he was startled to see a silver serving-tray floating itself towards him, a coffee-pot, cup, and plate of biscuits atop it. It set itself down on a small table by his chair. Lucas eyed it suspiciously. He really didn’t think an invisible force, or a ghost or spirit, had borne it in, since the door had closed behind it as it came in, but he certainly wasn’t used to having food brought to him in such a manner. But, having been taught by his mother to never look a gift horse in the mouth, he set to work diminishing the quantity of the coffee and biscuits.

Finishing the last of the coffee, which had been just about the best he’d ever had, he heard the door open again. Expecting perhaps another floating tray, though he hadn’t asked for anything else, he looked up. It wasn’t a tray, but another living person….

______________

And now y’all can take over for a bit! 😀 (apologies for any spelling/grammatical errors. I looked back over it just now, but I may have missed something)