Alright. if you haven't read the post before this one, read that one first. and then this. This is a short excerpt from one of the first--no, the very first story--that i've been writing. this is not a whole chapter, not even a whole page, but i will put in tiny teasers. Enjoy!

Jaisrecho followed his father along the path through the trees, looking down at his feet, noticing that grooves had been driven into the ground after someone traveling the path too often. He held his father’s hand tightly, wanting to skip and run, but knowing it would make his father only want him to hold tighter. There was a solemn silence that pervaded the air, unlike any he had experienced, and Jaisrecho knew that he was being taken to some place special, some place that would mean something forever.
The father was nearly at forty years of age, with a short gray beard and wrinkles trimming his eyes. His hands were rough and dark. He walked tall and broad, a glory in his presence, though today it was weighed down. Built to be tough, he was a successful sailor, merchant over his own company, but a soft man inside.
Trees stood above his head that never seemed to have a crown, but a trunk that reached into the heavens eternally. The perpetual height frightened Jaisrecho, making him look back down at his sandaled toes again.
“Father,” he said in his innocent six-year-old voice. “Where are we going?” His father looked at him with an expression that was sad indeed.
“We’re going to the Olive Glade,” his father replied.
“What’s the Olive Glade?” Jaisrecho wondered.
“It’s the place where our world came to peace, and it is also the place where I will tell a very important story, my son.” His father answered thoughtfully. “Now, try not to walk so quickly, I’m not as young as once I was.” Jaisrecho slowed his pace to match his father, trying to see if he could step with his right and left feet at the same time as his father. He, being still a young child, didn’t understand the importance of the day or what made this simple venture so meaningful. He simply enjoyed the woods and watched the scenery slowly pass his eyes.
Forest stretched for miles around, just as he liked, with the trees’ branches poking out or drooping to reach the ground below. His father had told him how much smaller they had been when he was younger, with clear amazement at how much they had grown since then. The rush of Agnora Falls was heard roaring from a distance, splashing rapidly on the rocks below. Jaisrecho tried to recall its ancient name, the name he had found in a book in his father’s library. It was originally called Faringha Falls, but the new inhabitants of the land after the old civilization had left couldn’t pronounce the name correctly due to their accent, therefore the changing of the name occurred.
Onward they walked, branches roofing the air above them, leaves on the floor, and hundreds of animal calls through the two’s silence. Jaisrecho was beginning to get tired, but still his father urged on, step after step, trudging along. Soon the poor boy was so exhausted that he wished to be carried on his father’s shoulders, but he silenced his wants and onward they pressed.
Suddenly, the trees came short, both in surrounding and in height. Jaisrecho looked at his whereabouts and smirked at a bunch of olive trees scattered around a clearing like they weren’t planned to be there in the first place. The dim sunlight entered in like a skylight, seeming bright and gray at the same time. Not too far away through a thinner bunch of trees a sheer cliff’s edge could be seen. Was this what his father had wanted to show him? Surely this wasn’t where his father intended to stop and begin telling his special story.