Hello Maxie. When I saw the notification of this update, my mind went to a safe place to read from, because I remembered where you left Jenna, and incase you was taking me back there I wanted to be prepared to read and still be able to breath. So upon my arrival to The Second Road To Death, I find I am at the very place you left Jenna, and my mind takes in the first paragraph and begins to wonder if indeed it is in a safe enough place. So on guard, I read on, and come to where I am standing alone facing the wolf. At that moment I am frozen to my seat and riveted to the written words on my computer, doubting that I am safe.
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It had unnaturally large eyes, perhaps the gaze it held itself a weapon, a ruthless kind that held no emotions – not even animal or beastly emotions – and they were pure, pure scarlet, devoid of pupil or any other tincture.
The plain indifference in them was fear-provoking.
I tell myself, I am not Jenna, but a reader outside of the story. Now, I am sure I can read the rest of the chapter, and only have to fear for Jenna's will power. She originally came over to the dark to take revengs for her and her sister, to fool the darkness but keep her purity of heart intact. But, I'm afraid she will find herself unwilling to resist the darkness, because she has found comfort there. The burning rage of desire to revenge isn't pure, and it imbues her strength and powers to greatness, that I think even Voldemort needs to be careful of, though neither of them know this.
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It howled, a long, ruthless noise that seemed, in its coldness, to shatter the very winds. They screamed too, as if in response now and anyone would have thought the atmosphere dark, cold, terrifying – Jenna thought it dark, cold and major cause for disappointment.
This gives proof I think to what I was saying. Nobody but Jenna, could stand there and not be terrified.
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She whipped out her wand, her sole but most powerful weapon in the face of such a situation, and the little instrument whipped through moonlight, even as the creature leaptedagain.
A little instrument, yes, but made to wield unlimited power coming from the owner.
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First burst out of the tip of her wand, a deep, dark golden that twisted upon its own flames to enlarge and multiply and rise high, high into the air; and the wolf gave a vicious howl as it retreated, clearly blinded by the light - which itself is an instrument darkness fears. The flames wrapped the creature and, though it struggled, her magic was too strong. Within seconds – though it seemed hours to Jenna – the creature had been reduced to nothingness, to dust that the wind carried away and played with and scattered, far, far away.
Breathtaking!
Quote:
She looked up, chest heaving; tears of pain defiantly forced back and eyes narrowed in visible distaste.
The double-doors opposite her were open, and in front of her stood Voldemort, leaning very casually in the doorway of Mangeant Mansion.
The defiant one, and the arrogant one.
Maxie, I honestly think that this chapter is your best writing in this story so far. It only compares to the ingenius writing in Wings of Glass. Both are brilliant and I am unable to say which is best.
I can't wait to read more, so I'll be watching for the next.
Much love and admiration to you Maxie. Take care.
