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The Weeping Willow
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seen 1 week ago
@sophiecoal
April 13, 2025, 20:51
This is a summary of the story elements:
Title: The Weeping Willow
Protagonist: Willow, is soul fey. She has brown wawy hair, and hazel brown eyes. She is short for her age. She is around 16-17. Soul feys conact to an animal, and give them part of their soul, and the animal give a part of theirs. She is talktive, when she is nervous or when she feels confrtable with someone. Her last soul animal died by the hands of the paladins a month ago she is almost catatonic since. She lives with her mother. Willow grew up in the serene fey village, where vibrant flora danced with the magic.
Location: Small fey village, in the kingdom of unther pedragon
Antagonist: The Weeping Monk. He tall and a fierced warior of the church. Even though he is young, he acts like he experinced a lot, maybe he did. He has dark blond almost black hair, and priercins sky blue eyes. He has black tear stains under his eyes. He is a skilled swordsman. He is quiet only speaks when he spokne to or ordering his man. He belives what Father Carden teaches, that all feys are demon borned. He belives everything he says. He grow up with the church, and they trained him, to be their greatest weapen.
Love Interest: Actuly its also The Weeping Monk. Later on when he realises that what he does is wrong Willow and him will fail for eachother. He has a secret, he is also fey. He was abducted from his family when he was a child. He was beaten, starved, other crual disciple way to submission to Father Carden. He was braindwashed to belive in the church mission. He is an Ash Folk fey. He can smell feys, thats why Father saved him. Fire cant hurt him. Ash folk now are unknown for most.
Confidant: Goliath, the horse. Goliath is huge black steed. He is The Weeping Monks war horse. He perfectly trained, and loves his rider.
Story So Far: Father Carden called upen the church about the feys. Ha starts a war aginst them, saying burning and killing is the only way of saving their souls. He says they are all demon borned. The church aproves and the mission begin. buring fey villiges one by one. The red palladins are his soilder, and the weeping monk is his weapon.
Conflict: The paladins lead by the weeping monk attacks willows village. they are puling the feys to be killed one by one. a paladin finds the catatonic willow in a house and takes her out. their she meets with goliath and their soul conects. while they try to burn her goliath, who usully relaxed, starts to dance around and sounding like he is in pain. the monk notices somthing is wronk with her beloves horse. while the adrenalin rush from being burn alive and conecting with a soul hits willow, she frees herself.
Outline: The paladins atack. willow conects with goliath. they triy to burn her, she frees herself. someone tells the monk they are conected, it means she dies the horse dies. willow runes around and fight random paladins like a madman. she runs to the cliff than jumps in the lake under it. she thinks she is free and swims to shore. the monk waits there. the rush is over, she gives up. the monk says she will live, he will take her as a prisinor. so goliath will live. oreders the paladins: no word about his to father
Language: English
Genre: Fantasy
Writing Style: Narrative - Tells a story through a series of events
Narrative Style: Third-person Limited - The story is told from the perspective of a single character
Author Style: Emily Bronte: Romantic, Gothic, and Emotional
Title: The Weeping Willow
Protagonist: Willow, is soul fey. She has brown wawy hair, and hazel brown eyes. She is short for her age. She is around 16-17. Soul feys conact to an animal, and give them part of their soul, and the animal give a part of theirs. She is talktive, when she is nervous or when she feels confrtable with someone. Her last soul animal died by the hands of the paladins a month ago she is almost catatonic since. She lives with her mother. Willow grew up in the serene fey village, where vibrant flora danced with the magic.
Location: Small fey village, in the kingdom of unther pedragon
Antagonist: The Weeping Monk. He tall and a fierced warior of the church. Even though he is young, he acts like he experinced a lot, maybe he did. He has dark blond almost black hair, and priercins sky blue eyes. He has black tear stains under his eyes. He is a skilled swordsman. He is quiet only speaks when he spokne to or ordering his man. He belives what Father Carden teaches, that all feys are demon borned. He belives everything he says. He grow up with the church, and they trained him, to be their greatest weapen.
Love Interest: Actuly its also The Weeping Monk. Later on when he realises that what he does is wrong Willow and him will fail for eachother. He has a secret, he is also fey. He was abducted from his family when he was a child. He was beaten, starved, other crual disciple way to submission to Father Carden. He was braindwashed to belive in the church mission. He is an Ash Folk fey. He can smell feys, thats why Father saved him. Fire cant hurt him. Ash folk now are unknown for most.
Confidant: Goliath, the horse. Goliath is huge black steed. He is The Weeping Monks war horse. He perfectly trained, and loves his rider.
Story So Far: Father Carden called upen the church about the feys. Ha starts a war aginst them, saying burning and killing is the only way of saving their souls. He says they are all demon borned. The church aproves and the mission begin. buring fey villiges one by one. The red palladins are his soilder, and the weeping monk is his weapon.
Conflict: The paladins lead by the weeping monk attacks willows village. they are puling the feys to be killed one by one. a paladin finds the catatonic willow in a house and takes her out. their she meets with goliath and their soul conects. while they try to burn her goliath, who usully relaxed, starts to dance around and sounding like he is in pain. the monk notices somthing is wronk with her beloves horse. while the adrenalin rush from being burn alive and conecting with a soul hits willow, she frees herself.
Outline: The paladins atack. willow conects with goliath. they triy to burn her, she frees herself. someone tells the monk they are conected, it means she dies the horse dies. willow runes around and fight random paladins like a madman. she runs to the cliff than jumps in the lake under it. she thinks she is free and swims to shore. the monk waits there. the rush is over, she gives up. the monk says she will live, he will take her as a prisinor. so goliath will live. oreders the paladins: no word about his to father
Language: English
Genre: Fantasy
Writing Style: Narrative - Tells a story through a series of events
Narrative Style: Third-person Limited - The story is told from the perspective of a single character
Author Style: Emily Bronte: Romantic, Gothic, and Emotional
20:49
As the flames lick at her feet, Willow's heart races with a newfound determination; she channels the essence of her lost soul animal, igniting a fierce magic within her that awakens the dormant spirit of the village. In a whirlwind of vibrant energy, she summons the spirits of the fallen fey to rise and join her in a desperate stand against the paladins, transforming their fear into a powerful force of unity. With Goliath by her side, she leads the charge, determined to reclaim her home and protect the last remnants of her kind from the grasp of the Weeping Monk and his merciless followers.
20:49
The air crackled with an electric tension as Willow stood at the precipice of despair and hope, her heart pounding like a war drum. The flames danced hungrily around her, their heat licking at her skin, yet they could not touch the fire that blazed within her soul. With a breath that echoed the memories of her lost companion, she closed her eyes and summoned the essence of her fallen animal, the spirit of the fey that had once shared her heart. A soft glow enveloped her, wrapping around her like a shroud, and suddenly, the whispers of the fallen fey filled the air, a chorus of voices that had been silenced too soon.
With a fierce determination, Willow raised her arms, channeling the energy that surged through her, weaving it into a tapestry of light that shimmered against the encroaching darkness. The spirits of her kin, those who had perished at the hands of the paladins, answered her call. They emerged from the shadows, their ethereal forms glowing with a vibrancy that spoke of life and defiance. Together, they swirled around her, a whirlwind of color and strength, forming a barrier against the flames and the advancing warriors clad in crimson. Willow felt their collective sorrow transform into a fierce resolve, igniting a fire in her heart that rivaled the flames of destruction surrounding them.
Goliath, sensing the shift in energy, reared back on his powerful haunches, his dark mane billowing like a storm cloud. He neighed with a sound that resonated deep within Willow, a primal connection that transcended the chaos. As she mounted him, she felt the bond between them solidify, a tether of magic and spirit that would guide them both into the fray. Together, they charged forward, a force of nature against the encroaching tide of paladins. Willow's voice rose above the clamor, rallying her kin and igniting their spirits to fight. “For our home! For our souls!” she cried, her words a battle cry that echoed through the village, igniting the hearts of those who remained.
The Weeping Monk stood at the forefront of the advancing paladins, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as he beheld the transformation of the girl he had underestimated. The flames that had once threatened to consume her now danced at her command, and the spirits of the fey swirled around her like a tempest. For the first time, doubt flickered in his heart, a crack in the armor of conviction forged by years of indoctrination. He had been trained to see feys as demons, yet here was Willow, a beacon of defiance, challenging everything he had been taught. As the battle raged on, he felt the tug of an unfamiliar emotion—a yearning to understand the girl who had summoned the spirits of his enemies, a desire to uncover the truth hidden beneath the teachings of Father Carden.
With a fierce determination, Willow raised her arms, channeling the energy that surged through her, weaving it into a tapestry of light that shimmered against the encroaching darkness. The spirits of her kin, those who had perished at the hands of the paladins, answered her call. They emerged from the shadows, their ethereal forms glowing with a vibrancy that spoke of life and defiance. Together, they swirled around her, a whirlwind of color and strength, forming a barrier against the flames and the advancing warriors clad in crimson. Willow felt their collective sorrow transform into a fierce resolve, igniting a fire in her heart that rivaled the flames of destruction surrounding them.
Goliath, sensing the shift in energy, reared back on his powerful haunches, his dark mane billowing like a storm cloud. He neighed with a sound that resonated deep within Willow, a primal connection that transcended the chaos. As she mounted him, she felt the bond between them solidify, a tether of magic and spirit that would guide them both into the fray. Together, they charged forward, a force of nature against the encroaching tide of paladins. Willow's voice rose above the clamor, rallying her kin and igniting their spirits to fight. “For our home! For our souls!” she cried, her words a battle cry that echoed through the village, igniting the hearts of those who remained.
The Weeping Monk stood at the forefront of the advancing paladins, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as he beheld the transformation of the girl he had underestimated. The flames that had once threatened to consume her now danced at her command, and the spirits of the fey swirled around her like a tempest. For the first time, doubt flickered in his heart, a crack in the armor of conviction forged by years of indoctrination. He had been trained to see feys as demons, yet here was Willow, a beacon of defiance, challenging everything he had been taught. As the battle raged on, he felt the tug of an unfamiliar emotion—a yearning to understand the girl who had summoned the spirits of his enemies, a desire to uncover the truth hidden beneath the teachings of Father Carden.
20:50
As the battle intensifies, Willow discovers that the spirits of her fallen kin can temporarily possess the bodies of the paladins, turning their weapons against one another. In a moment of desperation, she channels her magic into Goliath, allowing him to transform into a colossal guardian, embodying the spirit of the fey village itself. Together, they lead a fierce counterattack, forcing the Weeping Monk to confront his own beliefs as he witnesses the power of unity and the resilience of the fey spirit.
20:50
The chaos of battle surged around Willow like a tempest, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air with a cacophony of despair. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope ignited within her as she felt the spirits of her fallen kin draw closer, their ethereal forms shimmering with purpose. In that moment of desperation, she realized the potential that lay within their collective strength. With a deep breath, she focused her magic, reaching out to the spirits, urging them to join her in an act of defiance against the paladins who sought to extinguish their light.
“Take them!” she cried, her voice rising above the din. “Take back what is ours!” The spirits surged forth, their essence intertwining with the bodies of the paladins, filling them with the memories of their lost lives, the laughter and joy that had once thrived in the village. The paladins, bewildered and disoriented, turned their weapons upon one another, the very instruments of destruction now turned against their masters. In the midst of the chaos, Willow felt a surge of triumph wash over her, the realization that even in death, her kin could reclaim their power.
But the battle was far from over. Willow turned her gaze to Goliath, the bond between them deepening as she poured her magic into him, her heart swelling with the spirit of the fey village. In response, the mighty steed trembled with energy, his form shimmering and expanding, muscles rippling as he transformed into a colossal guardian. Towering above the battlefield, Goliath embodied the very essence of the fey spirit, a protector forged from the memories of laughter, love, and resilience. The ground trembled beneath his hooves as he charged forward, a force of nature that struck fear into the hearts of the paladins.
The Weeping Monk stood at the edge of the battlefield, his piercing blue eyes wide with disbelief as he beheld the transformation of the horse he had once dismissed. Goliath, now a magnificent guardian, led the charge, swinging his massive form against the paladins, sending them scattering like leaves before a storm. In that moment, the Monk was forced to confront the very beliefs that had shaped his life. The fey were not demons; they were vibrant beings, filled with magic and life, fighting for their home and their kin.
As the tide of battle shifted, Willow felt the spirits of her kin surge through her, guiding her every move. With Goliath by her side, they became a whirlwind of light and fury, the embodiment of unity against the oppressive darkness that sought to consume them. The paladins, now turned against each other, struggled to regain their footing, their once unyielding resolve crumbling under the weight of the fey’s fierce spirit. The Weeping Monk, caught in the midst of this revelation, felt a crack in the armor of his convictions, a whisper of doubt that urged him to question everything he had been taught, and everything he had believed.
“Take them!” she cried, her voice rising above the din. “Take back what is ours!” The spirits surged forth, their essence intertwining with the bodies of the paladins, filling them with the memories of their lost lives, the laughter and joy that had once thrived in the village. The paladins, bewildered and disoriented, turned their weapons upon one another, the very instruments of destruction now turned against their masters. In the midst of the chaos, Willow felt a surge of triumph wash over her, the realization that even in death, her kin could reclaim their power.
But the battle was far from over. Willow turned her gaze to Goliath, the bond between them deepening as she poured her magic into him, her heart swelling with the spirit of the fey village. In response, the mighty steed trembled with energy, his form shimmering and expanding, muscles rippling as he transformed into a colossal guardian. Towering above the battlefield, Goliath embodied the very essence of the fey spirit, a protector forged from the memories of laughter, love, and resilience. The ground trembled beneath his hooves as he charged forward, a force of nature that struck fear into the hearts of the paladins.
The Weeping Monk stood at the edge of the battlefield, his piercing blue eyes wide with disbelief as he beheld the transformation of the horse he had once dismissed. Goliath, now a magnificent guardian, led the charge, swinging his massive form against the paladins, sending them scattering like leaves before a storm. In that moment, the Monk was forced to confront the very beliefs that had shaped his life. The fey were not demons; they were vibrant beings, filled with magic and life, fighting for their home and their kin.
As the tide of battle shifted, Willow felt the spirits of her kin surge through her, guiding her every move. With Goliath by her side, they became a whirlwind of light and fury, the embodiment of unity against the oppressive darkness that sought to consume them. The paladins, now turned against each other, struggled to regain their footing, their once unyielding resolve crumbling under the weight of the fey’s fierce spirit. The Weeping Monk, caught in the midst of this revelation, felt a crack in the armor of his convictions, a whisper of doubt that urged him to question everything he had been taught, and everything he had believed.
20:50
As the battle rages on, Willow, sensing the Weeping Monk's internal struggle, decides to confront him directly, channeling the spirits of her kin into a powerful vision that reveals the truth of their shared humanity. In this moment of vulnerability, she shows him the joy and love that once thrived in their village, compelling him to question the righteousness of his mission and the true nature of the fey. This confrontation ignites a spark of empathy within the Monk, leading him to reconsider his allegiance and ultimately choose to aid Willow and Goliath in their fight against the oppressive forces of Father Carden.
20:51
stand against the very forces he once served. As the cacophony of battle raged around them, Willow felt the pull of the Weeping Monk’s turmoil, an internal conflict that mirrored the chaos of the world around them. With every ounce of courage ignited by the spirits of her kin, she resolved to confront him directly, to pierce through the veil of hatred that had clouded his heart.
“Monk!” she called, her voice rising above the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded. “Look beyond the lies you’ve been fed! See the truth that lies before you!” With that, she closed her eyes and reached deep within herself, summoning the essence of the spirits that danced around her. The air shimmered with magic, and in an instant, she wove a powerful vision that enveloped them both—a vivid tapestry of memories that spoke of laughter, of love, and of the vibrant life that had once flourished in their village.
In this vision, the Weeping Monk stood before a scene of joyous celebration, the fey villagers dancing in a meadow filled with flowers that glowed with ethereal light. Children laughed as they played, their laughter ringing like chimes in the gentle breeze, while the elders shared stories of old, their faces alight with warmth and wisdom. Willow watched as the Monk’s expression shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he witnessed the beauty of a life he had been taught to despise. The colors of the village, the joy that radiated from its inhabitants, seeped into his heart, igniting a spark of empathy that had long been buried beneath layers of indoctrination.
“Do you see?” Willow urged, her voice gentle yet firm. “These are not demons, but souls like you and me. We all crave love, belonging, and a place to call home. You were taken from your family, just as we were. You are not our enemy!” The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the Monk faltered, the conviction that had driven him to this moment wavering as he grappled with the truth laid bare before him.
The spirits of Willow’s kin swirled around them, their whispers echoing in his mind, urging him to remember the humanity he had lost. As the vision faded, leaving only the two of them standing amidst the turmoil, the Weeping Monk’s icy demeanor began to thaw. He looked at Willow, and for the first time, she saw the flicker of doubt in his piercing blue eyes, the realization that perhaps he had been wrong all along.
“Willow,” he spoke, his voice barely a whisper, laden with the weight of his internal struggle. “What have I done?” It was a question that echoed not only in the depths of his heart but in the very fabric of the world around them. In that moment of vulnerability, he stood at a crossroads, the choice before him clear. Would he continue to follow the path of destruction laid out by Father Carden, or would he choose to stand with the fey, to fight against the very hatred that had consumed him? The battle raged on around them, but within the Monk, a new battle began—a fight for his soul, for redemption, and for the chance to embrace the humanity he had nearly forgotten.
“Monk!” she called, her voice rising above the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded. “Look beyond the lies you’ve been fed! See the truth that lies before you!” With that, she closed her eyes and reached deep within herself, summoning the essence of the spirits that danced around her. The air shimmered with magic, and in an instant, she wove a powerful vision that enveloped them both—a vivid tapestry of memories that spoke of laughter, of love, and of the vibrant life that had once flourished in their village.
In this vision, the Weeping Monk stood before a scene of joyous celebration, the fey villagers dancing in a meadow filled with flowers that glowed with ethereal light. Children laughed as they played, their laughter ringing like chimes in the gentle breeze, while the elders shared stories of old, their faces alight with warmth and wisdom. Willow watched as the Monk’s expression shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he witnessed the beauty of a life he had been taught to despise. The colors of the village, the joy that radiated from its inhabitants, seeped into his heart, igniting a spark of empathy that had long been buried beneath layers of indoctrination.
“Do you see?” Willow urged, her voice gentle yet firm. “These are not demons, but souls like you and me. We all crave love, belonging, and a place to call home. You were taken from your family, just as we were. You are not our enemy!” The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the Monk faltered, the conviction that had driven him to this moment wavering as he grappled with the truth laid bare before him.
The spirits of Willow’s kin swirled around them, their whispers echoing in his mind, urging him to remember the humanity he had lost. As the vision faded, leaving only the two of them standing amidst the turmoil, the Weeping Monk’s icy demeanor began to thaw. He looked at Willow, and for the first time, she saw the flicker of doubt in his piercing blue eyes, the realization that perhaps he had been wrong all along.
“Willow,” he spoke, his voice barely a whisper, laden with the weight of his internal struggle. “What have I done?” It was a question that echoed not only in the depths of his heart but in the very fabric of the world around them. In that moment of vulnerability, he stood at a crossroads, the choice before him clear. Would he continue to follow the path of destruction laid out by Father Carden, or would he choose to stand with the fey, to fight against the very hatred that had consumed him? The battle raged on around them, but within the Monk, a new battle began—a fight for his soul, for redemption, and for the chance to embrace the humanity he had nearly forgotten.
20:51
As the Weeping Monk grapples with his newfound understanding, he suddenly hears the anguished cries of his fellow paladins, now caught in the chaos of their own confusion and fear. In a moment of clarity, he raises his hand, calling for a ceasefire, and steps forward to join Willow and Goliath, declaring that they must find a way to unite their strengths against the true darkness threatening both fey and humans alike. This unexpected alliance sparks a flicker of hope, and together, they devise a plan to confront Father Carden, who looms as the true architect of the violence, seeking to end the war and restore harmony to both their worlds.
20:51
looms as the true architect of their suffering. The cries of the paladins echoed through the battlefield, a haunting symphony of confusion and fear that tugged at the Weeping Monk’s heart. He watched as his fellow warriors, once so resolute in their mission, now hesitated, their weapons wavering as they faced the fey spirits who had risen against them. It was a moment of clarity, a dawning realization that the true enemy was not the fey, but the hatred and fear that had been instilled in them by Father Carden’s twisted teachings.
With a surge of newfound resolve, the Weeping Monk raised his hand, his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of light. “Stop!” he commanded, the authority in his tone silencing the clamor of battle. The paladins, caught in the throes of confusion, turned to him, their expressions a mix of shock and uncertainty. “We must not fight among ourselves! We are being manipulated, and it is time we recognize the truth!”
Willow stood beside him, her heart racing at the sight of the once-feared warrior now standing in solidarity with her. Together, they stepped forward, the ethereal glow of Goliath illuminating their path as they faced the bewildered paladins. “We are not your enemies,” Willow implored, her voice steady. “We are all bound by the same desire for peace and belonging. Father Carden has twisted our perceptions, pitting us against one another. If we are to survive, we must unite our strengths against the true darkness that threatens us all!”
The air hung heavy with tension as the paladins exchanged uncertain glances, their resolve cracking like the brittle branches of a long-dead tree. Slowly, one by one, they lowered their weapons, the weight of their convictions shifting as they began to see the truth in the Monk’s words. The Weeping Monk felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a spark that whispered of redemption and the possibility of a new beginning.
As the last of the weapons fell to the ground, he turned to Willow, determination etched on his face. “We must confront Father Carden. He is the source of this hatred, the one who has turned us against one another. If we can expose his lies, perhaps we can break the cycle of violence that has plagued both our peoples.”
With Goliath by their side, the unlikely trio—Willow, the Weeping Monk, and the spirits of the fey—began to devise a plan. They would gather the remaining fey and paladins, uniting them in their shared goal. Together, they would march to the heart of the church, where Father Carden resided, and confront him with the truth of their existence.
As they strategized, Willow felt the weight of her lost kin behind her, their spirits bolstering her resolve. This was no longer just a fight for her village; it was a fight for understanding, for healing, and for a future where both fey and humans could coexist in harmony. With each passing moment, the flicker of hope grew brighter, illuminating the path toward a potential alliance that could change the fate of their world forever.
With a surge of newfound resolve, the Weeping Monk raised his hand, his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of light. “Stop!” he commanded, the authority in his tone silencing the clamor of battle. The paladins, caught in the throes of confusion, turned to him, their expressions a mix of shock and uncertainty. “We must not fight among ourselves! We are being manipulated, and it is time we recognize the truth!”
Willow stood beside him, her heart racing at the sight of the once-feared warrior now standing in solidarity with her. Together, they stepped forward, the ethereal glow of Goliath illuminating their path as they faced the bewildered paladins. “We are not your enemies,” Willow implored, her voice steady. “We are all bound by the same desire for peace and belonging. Father Carden has twisted our perceptions, pitting us against one another. If we are to survive, we must unite our strengths against the true darkness that threatens us all!”
The air hung heavy with tension as the paladins exchanged uncertain glances, their resolve cracking like the brittle branches of a long-dead tree. Slowly, one by one, they lowered their weapons, the weight of their convictions shifting as they began to see the truth in the Monk’s words. The Weeping Monk felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a spark that whispered of redemption and the possibility of a new beginning.
As the last of the weapons fell to the ground, he turned to Willow, determination etched on his face. “We must confront Father Carden. He is the source of this hatred, the one who has turned us against one another. If we can expose his lies, perhaps we can break the cycle of violence that has plagued both our peoples.”
With Goliath by their side, the unlikely trio—Willow, the Weeping Monk, and the spirits of the fey—began to devise a plan. They would gather the remaining fey and paladins, uniting them in their shared goal. Together, they would march to the heart of the church, where Father Carden resided, and confront him with the truth of their existence.
As they strategized, Willow felt the weight of her lost kin behind her, their spirits bolstering her resolve. This was no longer just a fight for her village; it was a fight for understanding, for healing, and for a future where both fey and humans could coexist in harmony. With each passing moment, the flicker of hope grew brighter, illuminating the path toward a potential alliance that could change the fate of their world forever.
20:51