In response to another writer’s blog where I was challenged to think about what inspires me to write, I agreed that images are a great source of material. Fantasy images in particular stand out with such a stunning beauty that when I’m on Pinterest, I cannot resist them. I have decided that I will take some of my favorite images and randomly post them on here along with some writing exercises attached. For example, I am trying to discover information within the art work itself. A picture of a girl and a unicorn can seem simple enough but I want to find out who she is, where she encountered the unicorn, and where are they going together. I did this a few times before I came up with the thought to share the brainstorming. Perhaps others can find a new fun challenge in writing. Find something that catches your eye and just write about it. I love this writing challenge!
Although I am seeing the image and then writing what comes to my mind about it, I feel it is only appropriate to record my thoughts then reveal the picture. Perhaps what is shown is exactly what you thought when reading my post or you had your own visual conception. Whatever the case, the goal is to create the same art but with words.
The Fortress of Everdream
In the heart of the Great Valley, there is a fortress. The top of the structure glowed in the sunlight, the waterfalls around it roared through the valley, and the vines which climbed the walls seemed to embrace an ancient monument. The Land People who first inhabited this place before it was even created had come from a land so far, that no one in living memory could say its true name. It is known simply as the Everdream. Of course, when they first settled here, they had to built from the ground. They worked the stone and the earth and with their bare hands raised the structure from the ground. During the peaceful years it stood, tall and proud, as a beacon to anyone in the valley. During the years of war it kept enemies at bay whilst offering solace to those fleeing from the horrors of battle. The bridges and roads leading to the gates of this castle had once been busy and full of life and trade. Even during the last war it served as a stronghold for troops fighting for the Queen.
Now it was quiet. Now it was still. Now the fortress stands as a whisper of a memory with its peak still as golden as the radiant sun. The bells no longer ring and the gates no longer open. Once the raiders came from the north, the keeper of the castle shut the gates for fear of invasion. The raiders had the same powers as those who built it, however, so they tore into the mountain behind the castle and stormed it from the inside out. Those who survived were captured and sold into slavery. The raiders had no need for the fortress once it was plundered. Their own halls were much more splendid so those forced into a new life were moved. The raiders left the palace untouched and for years it stood, watching and waiting for its people to return.
The halls were not so empty. Hidden in the tower, was a face. A small round face of a young child who dared to stay behind during the raid. This child held the secret to restoring this fortress to its former glory. In fact, the only reason the light still burned atop the tower was because this child survived. The day that child would walk out of the gates would be the day the glow dims and darkness truly descends upon the land.