At Long Last

I just realized how extremely lax I've been on posting about The Legend of Skyrian and other writing bits! My goodness, it's been months since you've all heard from Cilla herself{though back then she was still known as Gwyn}! So I shall introduce you again. :)

Gwyn{me}: Cilla, say hello to all my readers out there!

Cilla: *smirks* Seriously?

Gwyn: Yes, "seriously"

Cilla: Hello? .... See. I knew no one would answer.

Gwyn: *rolls eyes heavily* Whatever. Let's tell them a bit about our story,

Cilla: Right! I've been meaning to pick with you about that!

Gwyn: About what?

Cilla: About the time line...

Gwyn: Oh, don't bring that up now..!

Cilla: Yes, now! I know you've been putting it off for ages, and that might be alright for you but What about me?? I'm so confused! I don't know if I'm 15 or 13! How am I supposed to act? And what about poor Tovah? He's having the same problem!

Gwyn: Where is Tovah anyway?

Cilla: Probably crying into his pillow, he's so confused and messed up. But don't change the subject. Why won't you just sit your rear down and fix it?

Gwyn: Would you just hear me out?? I'll tell you why we're in this muddle in the first place --

Cilla: A muddle you bunged up pretty well, if I may say so.

Gwyn: No, you may not. Now please, just -- shut up and let me finish. Right. I need you to be at least 15 for the War part, you understand? At least then its plausible if you survive.

Cilla: You don't mean you're considering bumping me off?

Gwyn: Not yet. But if you go on talking your chances will dwindle.

Cilla: Are you threatening me?

Gwyn: So I need you to be 15 for the War. But{and its a but the size of Bentfield}, I want you to train and grow with a filly. You'd love that wouldn't you?

Cilla: Well... yes. But I don't see the problem. Why can't I do that when I'm 15?

Gwyn: Because horses don't grow up in six months, that's why. She would have to be at the very least 2 before she went charging off on missions, and that's if you don't want her fully trained.

Cilla: ...*thinking hard* ... Couldn't you move the War? Make it a few years later?

Gwyn: *sighs* No. I've thought of that too. Because of the events and circumstances it would have to be at the very latest, a year from the "Bentfield Incident".

Cilla: The what?

Gwyn: You know...

Cilla: I don't. You must not have written it yet. I wish you would, though, it sounds exciting and I'm dying of boredom in this horrid castle filled with horrid people.

Gwyn: You'll be singing a different tune when the time comes.

Cilla: Singing? Oh! I'd nearly forgotten! The Bards are coming!! My people are coming for the fair! And Emy! Dear, wonderful, sweet, irreplaceable Emy!*starts singing a happy jingle*

Gwyn: Now, Cilla, I wouldn't get to excited about seeing her...

Cilla: You don't know what you're talking about! Emy and I -- we're like sisters! Only better! Oh it's been so long since I've seen her! We shall have to adventuring like we used to. And I wonder if Covner would let us do a duet?...*continues enthusiastically*

Gwyn: *bursts into tears* I-- I'm-m ss-orr-reeee!

Cilla: *stares blankly* What are you on about?

Gwyn: *slowly regains control* N-n-nothing. Nothing at all.*sniffs* I'm okay now.

Cilla: *gives weird look*

Gwyn: *sniffs a second time* Okay. What were we talking about before? Ah, yes. The time line.

Cilla: *undertone* If you say so...

Gwyn: I'm really leaning toward you raising the filly.

Cilla: Yes. It would be nice...

Gwyn: So I think I will start you younger.

Cilla: Wait a minute. If I get a filly,

Gwyn: Yes..?

Cilla: Where is Skyrian in all this?

Gwyn: *stares unbelievingly into space before banging head on desk, wishing the world would eat her and have done with it* *moans forlornly* I don't know!

Cilla: Well that's no good! Naming a book after him, making him a huge part, and then just dismissing him off? No indeed. It won't do at all.

Gwyn: Well, why don't you fix it then?? You're the smart one.

Cilla: I'm only as smart as you are.

Gwyn: *darkly* Smnigagradssdhfindig!

Cilla: What on earth was that?

Gwyn: I said, "That's all for now folks"

Cilla: ...... You are one sad little person.