Forbidden Princess

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Oh Wise One
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Forbidden Princess

Post by Oh Wise One »

I thought I already posted this. Oh well. This is a start of a novel I hope to write one day. It's no where finished and I'll post as I can.


Name of Piece: Forbidden Princess
Copyright/credits to author: © C. Bagwell
Is the piece finished: No, far from it.
Rating and Reason for rating: R- Sexuality, Adult Language, Violence
Would you like your piece reviewed?: Sure but be gentle
Summary of Story: (Three sentences at most) Alexandria Kurkendall is a young female living through the Black Plague. Why is she able to survive when there is death all around her?
Notes: I hope to make this into a novel one day but it desperately needs work.


Chapter 1: Alexandria

Waking up in a pool of blood was not unusual to her. She often wondered why this happened and tried to remember the night before. Nothing she did ever helped her remember. She could not even remember undressing herself, for she was always naked. When this happened, she followed the same routine. She got up, cleaned herself off, and got dressed.

Her first name was Alexandria but she had no knowledge of a last name. Nor did she have knowledge of any family or her age. Time was a strange notion for her. She knew not of when she came into being yet could not remember never existing. She simply knew herself as she was. At times, when she tried hard, she could remember long black hair and vivid blue eyes. However, she assumed she was thinking of herself. This was how she looked in the mirror. She was very tall and muscular. Having no family or relatives had made her homeless and being homeless had made her strong. She had many male admirers who admired her for her buttocks and curved breasts.

Although she was homeless, she managed to survive. Somehow, she was hardly ever hungry, although she did get thirsty. Her admirers made sure she was kept clean, clothed, and her nails shaped and painted. Such a shame to let such a beauty to go waste, they said.

As beautiful as Alexandria was, no one ever bothered her. Her admirers make sure no one else laid claim to her in any way. They only tolerated each other because gold exchanged hands. They would pay to have their turn with her, depending on the day. And no matter how many admirers Alexandria had, she was lonely. She felt different and could not understand why.

After Alexandria had cleaned herself, she changed into fresh clothes left in the room. One of her male friends had found her and provided her with clothes. This was his way of telling Alexandria that he desired her company later. Her admirers did not provide her with shelter, but were always able to find her when they desired enjoyment.

Alexandria turned around to look in the mirror. There, standing with a pale blue dress on, was a woman who looked no older than eighteen. She let herself drink in the image. Alexandria was proud of what she saw, a strong female. She had defined legs, arms, and stomach muscles, which were things men were only supposed to have. The only thing that bothered her was the hair on her arms. Her admirers would not allow hair to grow anywhere else. When they had tried to get rid of the hair on her arms, she protested fiercely.

“Get rid of that unsightly hair,” one said.

“No,” Alexandria said. “I’ve had it ever since I can remember. It is who I am. Either accept it or don’t seek me out.”

She knew as she said this, it could mean no clean clothes and no pampering. She didn’t care. However, her admirers were much to enamored by her to allow them to quit their pursuits. In the end, they quit asking her about her arms.

As Alexandria walked down the stairs, she saw the wrinkled hunchbacked woman to whom the house belonged. This woman had taken pity on her and gave her shelter. This was most unusual because of the plague.
The plague was running rampant across the country. Outsiders were most unwelcomed because of this, along with those that were different than “normal” society. No one took pity on each other and secured themselves and their families the best they could.

However, this woman had shown her kindness. She allowed Alexandria to sleep in her attic. She smiled as Alexandria bowed her head in gratitude and walked out the door. She felt bad about leaving the mess upstairs, but it was no use explaining that she didn’t know what happened. The woman wouldn’t believe her, no one ever did.
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babydorkee
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Post by babydorkee »

great start! i like ur writing.its really descriptive..can't wait to read more..
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Oh Wise One
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Post by Oh Wise One »

Chapter 2

Eyam village was located in the valley of two great mountains. It was mostly a farming village and times were hard. The plague spared no one, not even the bread-winners in the household. Residents lived in tiny houses and cleanliness was not of the utmost importance.

Eyam village had other residents as well on the outskirts of the village. These were the wolves. They had been a part of this village for as long as anyone could remember. The villagers and the wolves had formed a mutual respect for each other somehow. The wolves protected the village from other packs which might try to kill livestock. This arrangement was made long ago, long before anyone could remember. This territory, after all, was also the wolves.

“Lareot,” Sophia began, “one has come to join us.” Sophia was tall with long brown hair. Her green eyes sparkled as she spoke to him.

Towering over her, as he stood up, Lareot spoke, “Female or male?”

“Male,” she said.

“Bring him in,” Lareot said as he took his large dark grey wolf form.

Lareot was the leader of this pack and Sophia was the alpha female. Her mother had been long ago when there was a different alpha male.
A white wolf entered the den with his head down and tail between his legs.

Lareot circled him and growled softly, while the flecks of silver glittered on his back. The opposing wolf rolled onto his back as a sign of respect and submission. Lareot sniffed him and could tell this wolf was one of them. He was unsure why this wolf was solid white but turned into his human form anyway. When the white wolf saw this, he did the same.

“My name is Zion,” he began.

“Stop,” growled the man towering him. “From where do you come?”

“I am a wanderer. I have looked for my kind, heard stories, and here you are.”

“Yes, we are few in number. Most in this pack are real wolves, not shifters. You must never turn in front of them; they will attack you. Why do you not have the identifying marks? How are you identified?”

“I don’t know,” Zion said. He lowered his head and spoke as if he was ashamed. “I don’t know how I was turned. I only remember being.”

“Yet your human form does not reflect the wolf form,” Lareot said looking at Zion’s dark hair. “This is most unusual.”

“I have search for answers about my past but I have found only more questions.”

“How did you find this pack?”

“As I said, I have wandered for as long as I can remember searching for those like me. I heard rumors but they were just that. One day, I came across the scent of a female, a human female. Yet, she also had the scent of a female wolf. That was just outside these woods, in the village below.”

“Nonsense,” Lareot interrupted. “None of this pack’s females venture into the village. It is forbidden.”

“There was a female down there. Once I caught her scent, I ventured into these woods and saw a brown female who also carried a human scent. I turned into my wolf form and she brought me to you.”

“Sophia,” Lareot called. A brown wolf appeared. “Transform.”

A beautiful brown haired, green-eyed woman appeared. She had her head bowed as her wolf counterpart had done.

“This is Sophia. She is my alpha female. I am the alpha male. If you want to join us, you must abide by our laws.”

Zion bowed his head to show his submission to the two.

“We allow the wolf to hunt as it needs to. We rarely feed our human-selves. The wolf provides for us. If you hunt and kill prey, you must bring the prey back for the entire pack. If you find a female, you must receive Sophia’s permission to bring her into the pack. If it is a male, the male must receive my permission. Never go into the village in wolf or human form and never attempt to turn a human. Do you understand?”

“No,” Zion replied.

“No?”

“Why can we not go into the village in our human form?”

“Zion, have you ever been around humans?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Real humans sense our presence, though they do not know what it is.”

“If they do not know what or why they sense, what’s the problem?”

“They may mistake you as a sorcerer if you seem unusual or different. These humans are very superstitious. They tend to not accept the unnatural of any kind. This includes shapeshifters. You could be put to death if you were to change while in the village of if they suspected anything. And, as we have already established, there are precious few of us already.”

“I understand.”

“Another thing Zion: we ensure that no other packs, animals, or humans bother the city. In return, the village does not hunt us.”

With that, Lareot turned back into his wolf form and walked to the back of the den.
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froggyboy604
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Post by froggyboy604 »

Your stories are very descriptive. I like the settings of your stork. Keep up the good work!
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babydorkee
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Post by babydorkee »

interesting..i like it! its different from what i normally read..don't normally read stories on wolf changing into human form...is zion talkin bout alexdria...maybe she dun remember stuff cuz she turns into a wolf w/out knowing...update soon!
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Post by Indigo Truth »

Don't stop at chapter 2! wheres the rest? lol!
i like your work, very descriptive and well wrote

I.T
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Post by Oh Wise One »

Chapter 3- The History of the Shifter

Somewhere in the woods, a wolf called for its brother. The howling filled the night in an eerie sort of way. It was the howl of a wolf hunting. In the distance, a solid white wolf was running the countryside. A brown rabbit was running in front of him. Just a bit more and he would be able to reach it. The rabbit ran left, then right. The wolf followed close behind, finally, overcoming the rabbit. Holding the squirming prey down, the wolf bit hard on the neck and the rabbit hung limp. Picking up the limp form, he carried it away.

The fog was thick as he carried the meal back to the den. He knew it would not be for him; he would have to wait. This rabbit may help him get in Lareot’s good graces. He had the feeling Lareot did not trust him. Ever since he joined the pack, Lareot had kept his distance.

Turning left at an old oak tree, Zion entered the den. A man stood before him.

“Where have you been?” Lareot asked.

Dropping the rabbit at Lareot’s feet, Zion turned into a man.

“Hunting,” he said.

“I see, not trying to get a glimpse of the humans?”

“No, Lareot. However, there was another wolf out tonight.”

“One of us?”

“No, this was a lone wolf, a female. But she did not see me.”

“Markings?”

“There were none, but there was something different about her. I think she’s the same one I sensed before I came here..”

“Again, nonsense.”

“Almost like she was one of us.”

“Zion, don’t start seeing shapeshifters in every wolf. It’s dangerous and stupid. Not all shapeshifters are aware of their counterparts.”

“Dangerous? Stupid? Not aware? I don’t understand.”

“No, I guess it would be difficult for you. I assume you have always known what you are?”

“As far back as I can remember, I have known. I have no knowledge of not knowing. And, as I have told you, I have no knowledge of being turned. I just am.”

“Some are not as fortunate. Some shifters have horrifying memories of being turned; those loathe the moment in happened. Others, however, have beautiful memories. It depends on the one who turned you.”

“And who turned you, Lareot?”

“That is not relevant.”

“How do some not know what they are?”

“Some shifters were turned by family or other members at birth and therefore, do not know. Others have had memories taken from them or had their memories suppressed. Still, others are so determined to be normal, they force themselves to forget.”

“For those who do not remember,” continued Lareot, “time is a strange thing. They have no memories of before they were turned or of being turned. They continuously lose time; they go from being in one place to being in another, with no memory. Understandably, this is frustrating. Some never know. However, those that do know are sometimes outcasts. People are afraid of what they do not understand. Shapeshifters have a long history of being killed by those who do not understand. Sometimes it is easier to suppress the thing than to acknowledge it.

“What about hunting?” asked Zion “Do they not know they are different? What about the wolf counterpart? The wolf is an important part of a shifter. It must be protected.”

“Wolves take care of themselves. And it is the wolf’s job to take care of the human. The wolf inside a shapeshifter is the guardian of that human. Not the other way around. If a human is turned, there is a reason. Shapeshifters are not savage; they are not werewolves.”

“How do you know all of this Lareot?”

“Shapeshifting has been in my family for hundreds of years. It is impossible to trace how far back. Shapeshifter history is always sparse and hard to trace.”

“Who turned you?” Zion asked again.

“Enough storytelling for one night. Thank you for the rabbit.”

With that, Zion knew he was dismissed.
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