EXERCISE 5 word challenge #34

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by October Knight, Feb 3, 2012.

  1. 5 Word Challenge
    Brought to you by: October Knight

    This challenge is to help strengthen your vocabulary. You'll learn new words and how to use them in roleplay posts, stories, poems, etc!

    1. Aim for a minimum of 1-3 paragraphs. If you'd like to write more than that, then go for it!
    2. Make sure you use each word in your post. Be as creative as you'd like.
    3. Style the writing like you would for a story. It can be describing a setting, or written from the perspective of a character. Whatever you feel would work the best.
    4. Have fun with this, of course!

    The Words:

    • Fen (N) - Low, flat Swampy land. Bog or marsh.
    • Exude (V) - To expel slowly and steadily, as in a moisture or smell.
    • Arenaceous (ADJ) - having the texture of sand
    • Acquiesce (V) - To agree or express agreement
    • Epeolatry (N) - The worship of words

  2. The still air hung heavy with silence and the heady aroma of flowers whose blossoms fanned out in the green mist in vibrant hues. The humid fen teemed with insects ordinarily and a faint hum could usually be heard from their activity as they fluttered around. Defying the usual, there was hardly any sound to be heard save for the splashing of the water beneath the boots of the man who was parting reeds to force his way through. His breathing was a little labored, from the exertion, but he knew that he was nearly done with his hard journey through the verdant growth.

    The flowers exuding perfume were dangerous enemies to one unfamiliar with the area and even to those accustomed to it, they could prove more than annoying. Their scent was thick and clouded the mind with its numbing effect, not good when there lurked a host of unfriendly predators in the shadows and just out of sight. He knew that they were watching him, he knew that they were waiting for him to succumb to the sweet sleep. He had more fortitude than that, however, and he knew that his destination was at hand. He could not see it yet, due to the stalks packed closely together that reached high above his head, but he was close.

    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man emerged into a clearing where the plants had been warded away. The flowers and their scent were blocked by the reeds that formed a barrier all around. For good measure, the man had even chopped away the flowers that grew too closely to his altar. This was a haven for all those who feared the vicious animals that prowled nearby. They came here not for the same reason as the man, but instead for his protection. His altar was to a concept that the rest found less than sane, but they did not question him. He was a beacon, a leader, in the land of lost lambs and he forced them to sit at his altar to perhaps imbue one of them with its magic.

    Little known to the rest, epeolatry was not in fact the fire of his passion. The altar was not blind devotion to words but rather the spark of his fire and one that he desperately wished for a fellow in. Long had he insisted on the pilgrimage of the people in quest for his protection, but he was growing weary. It seemed as though there would be no other to share in his gift and he was lonesome with people whose only concern was for breeding and hunting. They would not understand the calling of his art and the thread of his thoughts, the idea that he existed for more than the mundane.

    Brushing his fingers over the peculiar obelisk, inscribed on all sides with the etchings of words in an endless story, stretching to the top. To the touch, it was cool, unusual in the hot humidity. Stranger still was the arenaceous texture and for both reasons, he'd attempted to find another stone with the same qualities but he had yet to discover another. It seemed that it was entirely unique, its presence an unexplained mystery, even to the man.

    Broken from his reverie by the rustle of reeds, the man looked up to see a young woman entering the clearing with a little boy in her arms. Her face was streaked with blood and her hands were caked with it; she looked feral, desperate, as she glanced around. Her mouth was set in a thin line that belied her worry and the man gestured for her to bring the boy closer. Seemingly appeased, she approached, the boy still gripped tightly in her arms, acquiescing with stubborn hesitation to his unspoken request.

    "He is hurt."

    This simple explanation was rife with worry, so strong that it could be felt. The man accepted the boy into his arms gently, patting the child's hair with one hand. The woman's expression remained wary, but her eyes shone with gratitude. She would not be the first mother who had sought protection for their child with him. He refused to allow his heart to melt for her, but for the child. That was a different story entirely, he thought, cradling the whimpering boy. Each child was invaluable and he would do everything in his power to care for this one.

    The man had only turned his back on the woman for a moment when he heard a gasp and spun to face her. Her fingers were spread over a span of the obelisk and the words beneath her fingertips were lit with an unnatural light. Her expression was one of awe, her eyes wide and mouth open. The spark had touched her.