The Soul of A Dragon Rider

Chapter 7: Sad, Strange, Little Jackson

Oh gosh. I feel bad for not updating sooner, like, I dunno what the heck is going on with me. Seriously. It's bad. 

It's not writers block I have, I promise you. I'm bursting with creativeness. But like, whenever I get on the laptop and go to create, I just..lose the creativeness. 

I won't put this on hold, mainly because I love you guys and can't bear to do it. I'll write as much as possible, just bear with me okay?

And by the time school starts again I'll be back to only UPDATING ON WEEKENDS. So, I should have enough ideas by the end of the weeks. xD

((Got a burst of creativeness to write, so here you go! A long chapter!))

Enjoy!

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' Our magic is much weaker than them. We've no choice but to do this. My King, Blood of Wolf, Blood of Fae, or Blood of Vampire?' The king studied the three pitchers, his eyes straying on the white blood which held Fae. Finally he said, 'Neither.' The Traveler looked surprised by this and he said, 'Then our magic will be dead within the week.' The king laughed. 'Never, sir, never. Our magic is drawn out by-" -Passage from the Ancient Writings of Witches and Warlocks. ( Note, for those Warlocks who reads this, because of the danger, the rest of this passage is unavailable.)

"Up! Up! Up!" Someone hollered.

I peek an eye open and see Quince standing over me with a ridiculous grin on her face.

"You have three seconds to get out of my room before I kill you," I growled at her.

"Kill me?" She faked a hurt look, pouting. "Why would you want to kill me?"

"Many reasons. Including waking me up in the morning at-" I shoot a glance at my clock. "-six AM."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"I am not dramatic!" I cried. "Besides, we've had this conversation before."

"No matter I felt the sense of deja vu." She smirked.

I scowl at her. "You're mean."

"I know." She blinks innocently.

I glare at her. "Why are you here at the butt crack of dawn?"

"I would hardly call six AM the butt crack of dawn."

"Quince."

"Okay, okay." She rolled her eyes. "You're mom asked me to get you up."

"Why?"

"Because she's gonna tutor you," Quince said. "Yep, that's right, she's your teacher!"

"Great," I mutter, falling back on my bed with a sigh.

Quince laughed. "Its not that bad."

"Its not that bad?" I mimicked. "Seriously?"

"You're mom's actually cool," she says.

"You didn't just tell me my mom's cool."

She shrugged shamelessly. "It's true."

I mutter, "I guess so."

"Now get dressed," Quince orders, walking towards my door, grabbing the handle and pulling it shut behind her.

I groan loudly in protest but get back to my feet anyways and drag myself over to the closet, muttering as I pull out random clothes.