As I am a newly published author, I was told to post one of my short stories onto one of my most visited websites. I choose here over the common popularities; facebook, Twitter, etcetera. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this shortened version of my upcoming novel The Black Rose.

The sky had settled into a peaceful, beautiful blue, swallowing the earth in aqua. The ground was an unsettled medley of greens and browns, and the emerald leaves showed nothing less than natural beauty. The kingdom of Synyora (sin-YOR-a) was a beautiful place that afternoon; anyone who would have realised it would've been in awe. Applaud and cheers could be heard across the village, coming from the direction of the castle. Smiles were passed. Then, there was war. The applaud faded into loud gunfire, and the cheers vanished as screams of pain and fear appeared. The blue of the sky gradually became filled with dust and smoke, and the ground had yellowed grass and hard, painful hardened mud. The emerald leaves had fallen from every tree. Smiles became scarce.

"You, there, mind you help me across the road?" The blind man helplessly questioned. There was never a reply, which brought him to sharing the truth.

"There lies two swords in the threshold of the Synyora Castle; their style is unearthly, yet just that. These blades hold the powers of Sacred Magique (maj-ICK), keeping the threads of happiness in this village alive. With the choosing of any man, the Sacred Magique's doing can be altered; and this has happened.

"I foresee a man, young man, to reclaim the swords to the village, but not to give to the Prince. We have seen what he can do with the Sacred Magique, and the young man of these visions shall not give it over."

"This is tomfoolery!" A woman called from her stance in the small audience.

"How would a sightless man know so? You lie! Must you act with your dimentia?" A man echoed the woman's doing.

Read blog "The Lost Swords: Part II" for more of the story.