The Spirit was Willing...

I heard from the New Zealand people today. They are happy with the story I wrote for them, so my days spent "forgetting" about the Forgotten Children was at least worth it!

Now I am just too sleepy to keep pushing through tonight! I have a feeling that if I keep trying, my nose will end up hitting the keyboard when I doze off. I had wanted to make up for lost time last night, but I just can't write any longer.. I have another 517 words to add and the story is now over the 5 and a half thousand word mark. It still is shaping up that Week 2 will be a slower week, wordwise.

Here is the next bit..

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Charlotte felt exhilarated. Although the owl flew swiftly, she had no trouble keeping up with it. Her soul sang with the beauty of the music. It made her feel alive and excited. She noticed that they were not keeping to the usual path that led to the centre of the town. Instead, the owl flew deep into areas bordered by thick trees. Willingly, she followed, but could not understand why they were traveling in the direction they were. Soon enough, her curiosity got the better of her. It would have been much easier to follow the path in front of my home, she thought. Our village is large and it will take many hours if we travel this way.

The music stopped momentarily. You must not question, said the voice, sharply. For the first time, it had lost some of its honey sweetness. You only need to follow. The music resumed, louder and more insistent than before.

Just for a moment, Charlotte had felt as if a fog was lifting from in front of her eyes. She glanced around her, confused. Where was she? What has happening? But just as quickly, the uneasy feeling had gone. She resumed her journey, following in the owl’s footsteps.

Soon, the treelined path widened into a more open clearing. The moonlight made a shadowy pattern of leaves on the ground in front of her. It reminded Charlotte of something, but she wasn’t sure what. She was concentrating so hard on the dappled pattern, that at first she missed the sound of another familiar voice.

“Charlotte!” Troy rushed towards her, gripping her hand tightly. “Is it not wonderful?” he said. “We are the Chosen Ones!”
“You are too?” Charlotte smiled.
“Yes,” said Troy. “And to think I worried we were going to be cursed. What a fool I was! But now I understand! It has all been explained to me. There was never any curse. We are going to be rewarded!”
“Do you know what the rewards are yet?” asked Charlotte.
“No,” said Troy. “We have to wait until all the others have been collected.”
“How many others do you think there are?” said Charlotte. “And how long do you think we will have to wait?

Not long. The voice was distinct. Not long at all.
Charlotte and Troy spoke simultaneously. “Did you hear that?” each asked, smiling as they realized that the other had heard the same message.

At that, there was the sound of running. Dozens and dozens of footsteps were echoing around the clearing. Far away at first, the footsteps grew louder and louder, until Charlotte and Troy were surrounded by all the other children of the town. Some as young as four still wiped the sleep from their eyes, while others were a similar age to Charlotte and Troy. No matter their age, each children wore the same expression of excitement and pride.

The owl flew to land on the branch of the nearest tree. Without stopping to think, the children all sat down in the clearing, looking up at the bird who regarded them all solemnly.