Story cover for Et ils chantent by Nelle_EB
Et ils chantent
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  • WpView
    Reads 53
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  • WpPart
    Parts 5
  • WpHistory
    Time 20m
Ongoing, First published Apr 07, 2020
La sœur d'Éléonore s'est volatilisée suite à une série de disparitions d'enfants aux alentours de la forêt de Talia. Deux ans plus tard, les songes envahissent ses nuits, tout autant d'échos à cette tragédie qui la hante depuis lors. Elle cherche en Sylvain, son compagnon, le soutien nécessaire pour garder la tête haute, incapable de se résoudre à considérer sa sœur comme décédée. 

Extrêmement solitaire et peu encline à accepter le rôle que la société veut lui assigner, Aube a sacrifié la possibilité d'une vie stable pour se donner cœur et âme à la photographie. La nature qu'elle se plait à parcourir lui offre la liberté et les ressources dont elle a besoin. Jouant sans cesse de son imagination, elle fantasme des amis et créatures légendaires pour fleurir son quotidien. 

La forêt qui l'accueille si souvent revêt pourtant ses mystères. Aube plonge alors dans ses secrets lorsqu'elle découvre un crâne de cervidé accompagné de l'ombre d'un curieux vampire dans les ruines d'un château...



Je créé ce fichier pour partager des extraits de mon roman en cours d'écriture. Afin de ne pas trop en dévoiler, je ne publierai pas les chapitres, seulement des petits bouts afin de présenter les personnages ou quelques passages que j'aime bien. Belle découverte !
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Through thick and thin the Law shall prevail. A new sense of purpose awaits us, children of light, in the land where it all began. The darkness in which we once cowered in fear, now curbed by the might of our endless light. Come, brothers, come, sisters. Let there be peace among the wicked, just as the Law dictates. Peace and certainty is all that you have ever longed for, little angel. A bright, stable future. A roof without holes above thy head. Acknowledgement and recognition of thy existence, feverish dreams of grandeur. Greed born from yearning, treacherous vines of rapacity taint your innocent soul. You seek a future that does not exist. Let thy fingers hold the fragile line between dream and nightmare. Let thy light navigate the path. Shall thee give in and falter, O' land of old, envelop his body in thy unending flame of chaos. Spit out nothing but an empty husk, the remnants of a smile once so bright. Shall thee prevail, O', Great Kazdel, I ask of you, the impossible - take mercy on the innocent. Don't let the radiance dim and don't let the mind turn bleak. Wake, young traveler. Bid thy farewells and burn thy bridges. It's time to say goodbye, curly head. Cross post from AO3. For a shorter and more on-point description, look no further! I had something silly written up before throwing it out in exchange for that wall of text upstairs. It's a little story "about a young, dumb sankta who's been dealt a bad hand at life, looking for his place in all this mess. The pointless search for a better future leads him far, far away from home, to a country forever ravaged by war and misery - Kazdel, the promised land where devils roam free and peace feels out of place." Anyway, it's quite lengthy, but hopefully enjoyable? Slide a comment if you want, I'll give you a tiny kiss on the forehead. Man, do I love comments. (Lastly, to point out, English is not my native language, but I don't think it'll be much of an issue ;3)