Page 42 - creative spark6

044 creative sparks a collection of creative writing by EPTS 045

SILK ROAD

: YANISA PONGPRASIT : NATTAN TAWORNSATIT
He felt hot – no burning – his heart great king of Persia woke up, screaming
thrummed in his ribcage and he swore and covered in sweat.
that it would burst out any moment. He The sound of footsteps echoed
was in a white plain, the whiteness through the large hall of white stones.
stretch forward into a never ending It was of a teen’s no older than twenty,
place. The only sound he heard was his with long flowing dark hair that was
own rasped breathing in the silence, braided into small braids while leaving
then, he heard the flap of wings and he the rest of the ebony strands free. He
turned, when he saw a familiar boy with wore clothes that were no doubt that of
pure white wings standing above- the a Persian, albeit a one with slightly
floor that is now changed – the lands higher status. Many Persian knives
of Europe and Asia. He froze out of a were held around his waist while one
feeling that he had never came across was in his hands, twirling expertly
before – fear, but he dismissed it. ‘It showing his skills. His face was one
would be the end of the earth before I, of irritation, and his grey blue eyes
Cyrus, felt fear.’ He stood firmly, before resembled a brewing storm. Darius was
turning toward the boy again. He was not a person with high patience, and
about to speak , when a cold, shilling now he was running out of it. He had would take most men months in days. encouragement. ‘And yet I am not there,
grin came across the boy’s face. He felt received message from the king mere Their horsemanship was second to because of an urgent meeting with the
the boy’s face getting further and minutes ago, while he was receiving his none and their skills with combats ad king.’ Darius’ thoughts made him
further when he noticed that he was men that had just come back from a weapons were not to be trifled with. A quicken his pace and he reached the
falling. Panic and fear rose to his chest, long, tiring trip from Susa. He was the two week trip between two cities is not door in a half stomp half walk manner.
he braised himself, before he felt the captain of the messenger team, the pleasant, and as a captain they looked He sheathed his knife In a one swift
force of the ground. And then Cyrus the elites of the elites, traveling a trip that up to him seeking proud words and motion and with a quick nod from the