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The Prophesy Tower. Chapter 55. Write a Novel Challenge.
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The Prophesy Tower. Chapter 55. Write a Novel Challenge.

by Amy DownesAugust 16, 2020

Her face was a contortion of pure hysteria, yet her wailing had stopped, causing her mouth to hang loosely, slightly agape. A translucent layer covered her eyes, disguising not only their vibrant colour but reality, as Neina saw no flicker of recognition from those cold, detached eyes. The usual arrangement of her features had dissipated, as if all the muscles in her face had relaxed simultaneously. Her smooth skin was dull and the colour in her cheeks, which had flooded in from the brisk journey to the cottage, was gone.

For a brief moment, Neina contemplated the alarming idea that the Isla she had grown accustomed to, her resilient tormentor turned strong ally, was no more. She was a different person than who she was mere days ago and the faces around her reflected the same reaction, yet none of them moved. To Neina’s surprise – and relief – Charlotte lowered her weapon and begrudgingly concealed it within the depths of her cloak.

Neina determinedly stepped towards Isla, internally bracing herself for any more indecipherable shrieks. But before she could muster the courage to comfort her struggling companion, Isla’s trembling mouth let out a hoarse croak, releasing a single word into the cramped, tense cottage:

“Lola?”

~

An uninviting pillar of reflective glass stood in front of Isla, yet its spotless surface did not display her usual features. There was no trace of her flowing, golden locks which she had used as a tool to entrance her victims, nor her glistening, sapphire eyes, which falsely radiated an impression of sweetness. Instead of these familiarities, Isla was greeted with a face that was shrouded in mystery, taunting her feeble mind as she desperately tried to decode this riddle.

The petite figure in the mirror was a sheer juxtaposition to Isla’s towering height, forcing Isla to strain her neck in order to sufficiently examine the person. It was a person, in fact it was a girl.

A pale-faced young girl, who appeared to be no older than seven. She blissfully swayed on the spot, causing her unruly, icy blonde hair to mischievously spill across her shoulders along with the soft fabric of her pale dress. But it was the child’s eyes that terrorized Isla, those kind, brown eyes that were as warm as the hearth flames of Isla’s childhood.

Who are you?

That was the question which plagued Isla’s mind, ravenously feasting on the infinite insecurity and confusion that the image divulged. Yet, her mind was also a weapon, one that she had sharpened and honed for years, until eventually it uncovered a clue regarding the girl’s identity. Her smile.

Both corners of her mouth were tilted upwards, broadly revealing pearly rows of pristine teeth, though one corner curled more than the other, resulting in a playful grin that contrasted with Isla’s sombre expression. Isla knew that grin.

It was a grin that was associated with the attentive times of Isla’s youth and the attention and care which she dearly craved now.

Without warning, a fond yet fading memory appeared in Isla’s mind, a vivid recollection from her beloved days of normality. Her senses, including her vision, were transported to her childhood home. Not the castle but her real home.

old village illustration bringing to life a novel written by children.

It was a simple house, reflecting the common architectural style of the countryside village that it resided in. It was rectangular in shape, with wooden accents including sharply angular doors, the boarded floor and aged oak windows which eagerly welcomed light into the home. The bright, creamy walls had been painted lovingly by her mother to match the blossoming garden of white tulips near the front door. Yet, it felt wrong. The usual smoke pouring out of the chimney, to signal the creation of her mother’s delicious stews, was gone and the oaken front door was ajar.

Isla timidly trailed through her living room, where instantly the smouldering heat from the fireplace thawed her shivering bones and the gentle material of the hand-woven pillows beckoned her. But she continued walking; into her mother’s bedroom.

The room was easily half the size of the previous one and most of the available space was occupied.

She had been a beautiful woman but her usually rosy face was hollow and pale, her shoulders slumped, and her slender hands trembled as she tied up her faded golden hair. Her mother turned to her daughter and welcomed her into her embrace but Isla felt the icy streaks of tears rub onto her cheek.

“D-did you find anything, sweetie?”, her mother implored urgently.

“No. I tried, I tried, I couldn’t…I’m sorry”, replied Isla, the words rapidly spilling out of her mouth, filling the room with resentment.

“It’s okay my darling, you rest – I’ll go out in a few minutes …”

“Don’t go, please. That’s what happened last time – I c-couldn’t do it by myself, I couldn’t raise I child on my own…I needed your help.”

“I k-know, I was gone for far too long last time, it’s my fault that my baby is gone…”

“Don’t say that, it was my fault – but I’m going to find her. I promise.”

Isla brushed away her mother’s hands and stood out of the embrace, before heading to the door.

Her mother’s voice echoed across the room, as Isla passed into the living room and hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

“N-no, you’re tired – we both are. Lola’s strong, she will survive – but you won’t if you keep working yourself to death. Please, just stay.”

But Isla kept going, passed the flickering flames of the hearth and the medley of pillows which adorned their couch. She halted as her hand clasped the firm, metal doorknob and felt the cool surface brush against her skin.

“I’ll be back, with Lola, in a few days. Just wait here until we come back,” she exclaimed, ensuring that she had plastered a hopeful smile on her face to placate her mother’s anxiety.

Isla spun on her heel and closed the wooden door behind her, the resulting slam empowering her, reminding her of the urgency of her mission and of the impending disappointment should she fail. Again. She would return, she told herself, and their family would be whole again.

But that was the very last time Isla saw her mother…

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The Prophesy Tower – A Novel.

To read Chapter 1, click here.

To read Chapter 2, click here.

To read Chapter 3, click here.

To read Chapter 4, click here.

To read Chapter 5, click here.

To read Chapter 6, click here.

To read Chapter 7, click here.

To read Chapter 8, click here.

To read Chapter 9, click here.

To read Chapter 10, click here.

To read Chapter 11, click here.

To read Chapter 12, click here.

To read Chapter 13, click here.

To read Chapter 14, click here.

To read Chapter 15, Click here.

To read Chapter 16, click here.

To read Chapter 17, click here.

To read Chapter 18, click here.

To read Chapter 19, click here.

To read Chapter 20, click here.

To read Chapter 21, click here.

To read Chapter 22, click here.

To read Chapter 23, click here.

To read Chapter 24, click here.

To read Chapter 26. click here.

To read Chapter 27, click here.

To read Chapter 28, click here.

To read Chapter 29, click here.

To read Chapter 30, click here.

To read Chapter 31, click here.

To read Chapter 32, click here.

To read Chapter 33, click here.

To read Chapter 34, click here.

To read Chapter 35, click here

To read Chapter 36, click here.

To read Chapter 37, click here.

To read Chapter 38, click here.

To read Chapter 39, click here.

To read Chapter 40, click here.

To read Chapter 41, click here.

To read Chapter 42, click here.

To read Chapter 43, click here.

To read Chapter 44, click here.

To read Chapter 45, click here.

To read Chapter 46, click here

To read Chapter 47, click here.

To read Chapter 48, click here.

To read Chapter 49, click here.

To read Chapter 50, click here.

To read Chapter 51, click here.

To read Chapter 52, click here.

To read Chapter 53, click here.

To read Chapter 54, click here.

To read Chapter 55, click here.

About The Author
Amy Downes
Amy Downes is fifteen years old and a British student studying in Year 11 at GEMS FirstPoint School, Dubai. Miss Downes writes “I have thoroughly enjoyed following the story, seeing the characters develop - and I find the backstories of the characters very interesting. I wanted to link this chapter to Isla’s past, by linking the information we have learned about her from previous chapters with the story as it has now developed. It has been a pleasure to have been a part of this unique opportunity and I’m very curious to see how the characters will evolve as the story progresses.”

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