Caiya’s Blog: Rose

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Hello people! Once again, today is Wednesday, and I shall be doing another post (this is what you are reading right now). I know, I am apparently being Captain Obvious – anyway! Today I will recount my day very quickly, then on to the actual passage. Enjoy!


  1. Today (Wednesday) is sad for me because I miss my drama class. Our drama season ended because we did the actual play (and we did fantastic on it, if I do say so myself) and I miss my instructors and great experiences with my friends.
  2. Yesterday (Tuesday) was fantastic because I did great in my Social Studies project. Earlier, we had to do projects of the Medieval Times Era, and we presented, but today, we actually battled. We told our defense and attack.
  3. Yesterday (Tuesday) we had to finish writing our first-draft essay and my peer editor thought I had too much of a diverse vocabulary for her, and she put that on my “to improve” list! Anyway, I had a fun experience.


Enough of MY schedule… Let’s get on with the Necromancers’ Pride.


I do not own any of these characters, but I do make up these fictional stories. It would be amazing if they were real, though.

Dolthaia’s POV (Point of View)



            “Dolly? Dol? Thaia? Dolthaia?” I hear and I sit up. Those are the names my childhood friends called me. Before… Before… I can’t–remember. I just know my friends in my youth called me by those names. They’re too girly.

“Huh?” I say.

“Shh. Come here. Don’t wake the others,” the gentle voice says. We are in the middle of a field on a hill. Where could the person possibly be hiding?

“No. I don’t even know you,” I whisper back. “HE—!”

I start to yell out ‘HELP’ but a hand covers my mouth to stop me. I bite it. The person who had me yelps and rolls down the hill. I grab the knife out of my boot and look over the edge, my fire slowly diminishing.

There is a girl, a small one, about my age, lying at the bottom of the hill, sprawled on the floor. I walk near to her. She has long brown hair, and a pretty-yet-plain face. I poke her with my boot. She’s out cold.

I bend down to her hand. She’s holding a letter. I slowly grab it out of her hand and open it. In messy handwriting it reads:



I mustn’t have much time, but I need you to understand something. Do not give up hope. I know it’s hard, but be ready for what life has to offer you.

But: when you are stricken between two tough choices, choose the one you think I would choose.

Ask Rose for who I am.


“Rose? Is this girl Rose?” I whisper to myself. I nudge her in the side with my foot. She doesn’t wake. I nudge her again, this time harder. I sigh and try to pick her up. I must know who wrote this note.

I grunt as I life her small body and I trudge up the hill. I put her down next to the fire and wrap her in an extra coat. I watch her lay there until my eyelids are heavy to stay awake, and I fall asleep…




Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger, but I will continue this story next week! Thanks for reading! Stay posted!



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