Magic Mist Prologue

Magic Mist is a chapter book I began writing when I was eight. At age ten, I rewrote most of what I had previously written. Here is the prologue:

Prologue:

It was a dark, cold night at the entrance of a forest, where a mysterious woman emerged. The woman was tall and beautiful, though covered by her long shadow like robe. Her hood was up and all appearing to see was her reflective, pointy nose. She was cradling a black blanket with something fidgeting in it every now and then.

            The woman was walking briskly to the small town of magical beings. She stepped into the dim moonlight, making her appearance more clear to the eyes. She looked young and strong, but, strangely, at the same time, weak and elderly.

            She approached a small wooden house. Very homelike, she appeared to think, seeing as she stepped closer. She stopped in front of the house, though a little far.

            “This is where I stop,” The lady whispered to the black bundle. Her eyes flickered with worry as she let her grip loosen on the black bundle, then went back to the plain, motionless face that had no sign of life.

            She lifted the top of the blanket just enough to see a baby’s face. The woman sighed, gave her baby one last meaning kiss. A sparkling tear dripped ran off the woman’s face and on to the baby’s forehead.

            She paused for the deathly silent moment.

            The torches, footsteps, and voices came and everything happened so fast. The strange lady was frightened and ran toward the house. She set her baby in the grass to hide in the leaves, but she did not make it. As soon as the baby gently hit the ground, when the woman tried to flee, she was plucked off the ground like she was attached to an invisible string. She rose into the starry moonlit night and started to hover around fifteen feet in the air. She produced a blinding golden light and then, when it died down, she wasn’t there.

Died.

Perished.

Disappeared.

Gone.

The baby’s cries echoed in the night on the doorstep of the house. All alone, not knowing the important role she would play.