Lunar Fall Prologue

[chiral]

Found a story i wrote a looooooong time ago and thought it would do nicely as the prologue to Lunar Fall.
Very different style though.
this was before my english professor corrupted me with his style.
:( i miss my style.
do u like this better as opposed to how i currently write?
let me know.

[chiral]

The courtyard was bathed in the soft golden rays of dusk, and a gentle breeze swept across the garden surrounding it. Dust particles and pollen faded in and out of those golden ribbons drifting down from heaven, consumed in a dance that seemed to have no beginning and no end. One could become hypnotized by the beautiful tranquility of the moment as one would a siren's song, soft and tender, yet heart-wrenching at the same time because of the forlorn knowledge that it shall not last.
Almost too abruptly the celestial orb slipped beneath the horizon, stealing away into the night, and shadows once again stalked the living. They moved, the shadows, for the breeze still caressed the living--it had prevailed whence the sun had failed.
The thin and seemingly fragile figure of a boy remained in the courtyard, still lost in the moment. He was still except for the hair that danced across his brow in the wind, attempting to tickle him back into reality.
"Do you fear the darkness?" The motherly voice of indeterminate age echoed.
"No," the standing statue came to life, "Though it does bring me sadness."
The shadows too, came to life as the boy walked ligeringly away.
"Kayith, what can I do to make you feel better?"
"Leave me alone, House."
Knowing when it was not wanted, the protective spirit of the palace withdrew its presence and sighed wearily. Or perhpas that was the wind whistling past the corridor, celebrating the coming of the night. Wind chimes clashed also, in a toast to the moon that loomed above the courtyard, sounding off the bitter-sweet symphany with a low rumbling note.
Then the rain came down.

The room was furnished beautifully, reinforced with the singular color scheme of red...or rather, all shades of red. The sole occupant of the room was also garbed in red. He was a big man, with wide shoulders and a barrel chest that stood at attention with military precision. The furry crimson robe that he wore fitted him flatteringly and gave him an air of authority. On his feet he wore fuzzy crimson bunny slippers, with tiny black marbles sewn in as eyes. Somehow, he seemed less formidable.
He sat in the plush easy chair and leaned back, to be sucked in by the fine leather that molded itself to his form. In his left hand he held a red-wood pipe and his right hand absent-mindedly scratched the upturned tummy of the baby Red Dragon.
"House."
"Yes, your majesty?"
"How did he take it?"
"Not very well, I'm afraid." The spirit whispered softly.
The little dragon flapped its wings and purred in contentment, tiny sparks flew up from its snout followed by licks of flame.
"I wish you wouldn't keep Trixie indoors, Sire."
"I never thought you were one to change the subject, House." The king's bald head bobbed up and down as he chuckled, effectively diverting the coversation away from the ever waged battle of Trixie's place in the palace. "Now tell me, in detail, how he reacted."
"Well, you know how he is, Sire. While the princess was present, he acted with courtesy and had an air of lightness about him. He could be very entertaining when he desires to be."
"Uh...oh, yes. Indeed. Do go on." The King watched as the chubby dragon rolled off the chair and fell onto the thickly carpeted floor.
"He was so very lively during the visit that I thought there might actually be some chemistry brewing, but as soon as Melissa left, I knew it was not so." House paused as Trixie stopped circling the chair and pounced on the rabbit-foot...or rather the bunny slipper dangling from the left foot of the King.
"Hehehe, barely three months old and already blood-thirsty. What'd you think of that, House?"
"Isn't he just the cuttest thing."
"Cute? Cute??! There's nothing cute about it, woman! He is undergoing the primal instincts that will make him the bane of the living, he shall bath in the blood of his enemies and scream bloody murder--hey, what, come back here with that you little rascal." The King stumbled after the red tail vanishing around the door frame, "We shall have to continue this conversation some other time, do remind me, House."
"Isn't he just the cuttest thing." the spirit whispered wistfully to an empty room.

[Kinjal]

Sounds really interesting.. But just a question, how could a teacher, friend, or anyone actually change your writing style? Isnt the point of writing... being yourself? I like this way because as you say it.. its you ._.

[chiral]

Sounds really interesting.. But just a question, how could a teacher, friend, or anyone actually change your writing style? Isnt the point of writing... being yourself? I like this way because as you say it.. its you ._.

i had to pass that course.
i didn't want to.
but i had no choice.
if i wrote like this, the way u just saw i would have failed that course.

[Ornbarn]

real nice. I like the way you write just fine...