Professor Von Ball's Creative Writing Help
~*Jax*~:
Oh COOL!!!!!
babyblue1387:
Hi guys. I'm starting a story called The Nahuatal Princess, and I was wondering if I could post the first bit here in this little section. I haven't taken the pics for it yet (waiting til I upgrade my video card), but I have started on the story. I only have the first bit down, it's kinda like to prologue to chapter 1, but I was wondering if it sounded good and would translate well into a sim story. I got all fired up today because I learned how to take pics, and I've been intending to do a story. So yea...let me kno if you're interested, and I'll post it here. :smt109
starlucid:
Well I would love to read it love Native American themes!
babyblue1387:
I finished Chapter 1, parts 1 & 2. I hope to get enough of the story written before I take pics so that I can upload something for a while. But here goes chapter 1.
Chapter 1 – Family History
Part I – As We are Now
We are, more or less, a normal family. We’ve been in Pleasantview for, maybe, 4 years now. On the outside we look normal, anyway. My father is an accountant, and my mother stays at home to care for my sister and I. She cries a lot but doesn’t say why. My brother is overseas; a sort of priest, I guess you could say.
We are constantly haunted by demons from our past. A terrible bloody past that may well come into our present and embed itself in our future. My sister always asks our mother why she is crying. That is because she is not old enough to remember what life was before Pleasantview. But I am. We are the last of the Nahuatl Indians, and this blood that runs through our veins has been passed down for centuries; it is the blood of kings and queens. It is full of purity and blessings of the Gods. Yet many see us as a threat. They have been chasing us for the past 14 years, trying to ensure our destruction, trying to finally make us all extinct. This doesn’t make any sense, does it? Let me back up.
This is my father, the last Nahuatl King. His given name is Necuametl, which means ‘king.’ He ruled the small tribe of Nahuatl we lived with in Southern Mexico. His new, Spanish name is Zacarias, which means ‘He has remembered.’
This is my mother, Quetzalxchitl, precious flower; queen. Now named Basilia, queen. She ruled the women, teaching them all that they needed to know.
This is Tlanextic, my brother. His name means ‘light of dawn,’ and he is now a priest. Though he goes by the name Fedele, faithful.
My younger sister, Zyanya, ‘always, forever.’ She is now Amaranta, meaning unfading. But sometimes we call her Peppi.
And this is me, Xiuhcoatl, Alondora. I am the fireserpent, weapon of destruction, defender of mandkind. And yes, I am pregnant.
Not pictured here are my eldest brother, Tlacaelel (‘greatest of our male heroes’), and my eldest sister Teyacapan (first born). Tlacaelel was killed when we escaped from the village. He was next in line to be king, but They got to him first. That was when we knew we had to leave. Teya, however, chose to forsake her past and become Paca, which means ‘free’, because she was finally free from us and the responsibility that fell to her when Elel was killed. She was to take my place as the next queen, but she ran from her responsibility like a child. Her name was never again to be spoken in our house. To my parents, it was as if she was dead.
Part II – The Escape from Mexico
It was beautiful that day. It had to be 14 years ago. I remember because I had just learned how to make clay dolls from my grandmother. Amaranta was only an infant then. I was playing with grandmother and it began to rain. She took me inside because she said the water was angry. Then she told me about the water goddess and how she was eternal; then I fell asleep.
I awoke to angry noises. Shouting and screaming and crying. So I cried. I cried because I felt the pain and the anguish that was in the house. And I could smell it. Death. There was the stench of death in the air, and everyone got silent when they saw I was awake. Grandma was dead. I could see her lying on the floor. She was dead. Then someone burst through the door, dumping a limp body on the couch.
“They are attacking, please, they got Tlacaelel.”
There was my brother, bloody…dead.
So we fled. The soldiers all came to our house and they surrounded us. There was an escape plan ready, and we followed it. I don’t know how many died that day, but it rained, and their bodies were washed and purified by the water goddess, and returned to the earth. As we were about to enter a cave, a blind seeress came up to us.
“You will have new names. Your Nahuatl ones are no longer safe.”
“But they are sacred to us. You have named the royal family for 100 years. I will not give up the name you saw for me,” my mother said.
“Quetzalxochitl, you must be strong for your children. You are now Basilia. It still means queen. Though you are not now queen in body, you are queen in heart.”
“And what about Tlanextic? Will he be safe?” asked my father.
“Yes, he will be Fedele, but he is safe because he is away from here. Teyacapan, you are heavenly, Celestina, for the heavens have now chosen you to lead your family.”
But Teya was not happy. I was christened Alondora and Zyanya became Amaranta. We were told never to use our Nahuatl names again, unless in the most private of moments. Even then, we were to guard our words. We were to hide nearly every aspect of who and what we were. As we were being led underground and out of our village, it burned behind us, and my mother cried. Even as a toddler, I knew what was going on. I’d never return home. I could see the buildings and the trees and the gardens on fire and I watched my past burn behind me as my future came rushing toward me, faster than I’d ever know.
------
Hope it doesn't get too confusing. Comments much appreciated. :toothy5:
starlucid:
Oh! I love it so far! Who attacked their family? That part I don't get.
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