Hey everyone, I would like to post a sample of the first chapter of a story I have begun writing, I know this is the Fan Art section but like Meeki once said "writing IS art!" I would appreciate any feedback be it positive, constructive or even down right negative as it will help me become better at my art. Three characters in this story are featured in my art thread although not mentioned just yet in the story itself, at least not as depicted in said thread. Now with out further ado let me transport you to a dark and starry night where the smell of smoke fills the air... Chapter 1 “Quickly my lady” Pulling on the wall torch, the young servant looked at her Queen. “What about Ardour? I cannot leave my husband to those fiends!” The black haired servant walked quickly towards the beautiful, golden haired woman, and gently grabbed her by her left arm. “My lady Guinevere, please the safety of you and that of the infant comes before all…even that of his royal highness.” Guinevere stared at her handmaiden in disbelief, she knew what Aria said was true but the thought of her husband dying alone at the hands of those black clad assailants was unnerving. Nodding, Guinevere followed her faithful servant and friend towards the dark passage that had opened up. Aria picked up the lit torch off of its holder and led the queen down the dark and narrow passage. The unsettling passage led from the royal chambers down into the stables below the castle. It was made for a time of emergency; if ever the castle was to be sieged and all hope was lost at least those of importance could have a chance of escaping. That time was now upon the Royal family of Salteziam. Far below the castle Aria led Guinevere and her infant to the royal stables, there awaited a white stallion; its beauty was otherworldly and looked to be a horse worthy of the Gods themselves. Aria set the torch in a vacant holder creating enough light for her to saddle up the godly stallion. “My lady, hand me the child so that you may mount the horse.” Guinevere parted with her dearest child but for a few minutes before being reunited. Footsteps and yelling could now be heard echoing down the passage they had but moments ago travelled. Guinevere sadly looked down the dark passage where now a faint glow shone in the distance. “Ardour…” Aria rushed to the stable doors and unbolted them. “Gwen! Please you must hurry, if not all has been for nothing!” “But what of you, I could not possible leave you.” Aria glanced at the passage behind them; the glows of the torchers were getting brighter, as were the assailants’ triumphant shouts. Aria knew there was no time to waste, if the queen and the future heir to the throne where to have any chance of escape she would have to make a sacrifice. “Gwen, we will meet again in a better place but for now we must part.” Aria ran behind the horse and slapped its lower back setting the majestic creature off into a gallop. The horse had travelled no more than halfway across the outer courtyard before Guinevere glanced back, her heart skipped a beat as she saw her handmaiden and closest friend die as a tip of a blade ripped through the front of her dress and then back out leaving a gaping wound in its place. A face of hope looked back at the distraught queen before contorting into pain. The grand horse rode through the bloody cobbled streets; screams of the soon to be dead or dying permeated through the smoke filled air whilst corpses lay scattered around like autumn leaves. Guinevere clutched her child even closer to her bosom. The once beautiful city now lay in ruin as flames danced from building to building and smoke filled the starry night sky. Ahead, Guinevere could see the city gate lying shattered on the floor. She had almost made it, she thought, as she grew ever closer to the opening that promised a new life. Distracted by this she failed to notice the shrill whistle that was fast approaching until it was too late. Guinevere’s head jolted back whilst her body arched, her face twisted as she let out a glass shattering scream—her free arm whipped round to her left-hand-side of her torso. Through tear filled eyes she glanced down at what her hand clutched to, she already knew what struck her but the sight of it struck deeper still. Protruding from her side was an arrow, it had struck deep and it was only a matter of time before it would have served its purpose. The infant seemed to sleep soundly, oblivious to the horrors unfolding around it, as it lay folded tightly in the bundle of clothes nestled in its mother’s bosom. It was a blessing indeed that the commotion from which they had just escaped had not managed to wake the child. The cold night air chilled Guinevere’s pained face as beads of sweat rolled down her pale skin. Her body shook, not from the night air but rather from the arrow lodged in her side, a pool of sticky red soaked her dark blue night dress, plastering the fine silk to her torso. The dying beauty could feel her conscience slowly fading. Her normally elegant and regal form, lit by the churning blaze behind them, slumped forward as her mount guided them through the fields and further from danger, further from the whistling of arrows and the drums of war. Moonlit Shadows flickered over them as they passed trees, The Queen’s heart beat hastily whilst her eyes darted from shadow to shadow—praying that their last hope of refuge lay in the forest ahead. Only when Guinevere could no longer hear the roar of the flames did she halt the horse in its wild path. She turned and looked behind her. Her grey eyes wearily scanned the distance hills that she had only moments ago fled through, she hoped with her very being to see her beloved husband’s gallant figure riding over them one last time. Then, as she turned to look deeper in to the dark forest, she saw a sight only heard of in legends—there, next to the trunk of a large tree, stood a tall slender robed figure with pointy ears.