This is a book I've been writing for years. I have folders of the original handwritten words, and folders of character profiles, storylines, the lot. I've drawn locations from the book, I've dreampt of them.

I decided to share.

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There seem to be places that elude time, that is to say they have no place in time, and no time has a place for them. These sorts of places are rare, special places. Places untouched by that which is touched by time. Untouched by man. There are some places that have the title “timeless” or “untouched” but none of those places compare to The Underground World. The Underground World is a place that lives on belief, and only man’s belief is big enough to keep it alive. The creatures of this world pray for the day man will once again walk the soil of their world. They stand there waiting miserably for time’s gift. Awaiting the time they once took advantage of, the time they once wished wouldn’t age them. They pray for the day they will live in full motion, the day when man will once again keep the clock ticking.
Although this world was built by man, the evolution after the creators could not detect the hidden world underneath the earth’s surface. The magical powers allow it to go un-noticed, suspended inside the earth as though it were in space itself.
   When it was first created by magical means, the world was prosperous, real as it was dangerous. The first evolution of man found the world to be a great achievement, although they soon discovered it indeed wasn’t. All of the creatures found there were strange, and some had killed tribesmen, but the biggest problem was the spread of sickness. Never before had humans befallen such things, The Earth had nothing that could make you ill, until The Underground World was created. Suddenly people had fevers, and were coughing yellowed gunk. But the worst was the sickness that caused the welts. The skin would seem to bubble up, almost like it was boiling from the fever.
The magician who created The Underground World was soon banished to his monstrous creation, forbidden to walk among his own people. In his rage, he sent out a horde of magical orbs. The tribesmen ignored them at first, the strange clear orbs followed everyone, each man had his own orb it seemed, and some had two. Some men got rid of their orbs easily; children however seemed to have their orbs for no more than a day before they turned black and faded away. The tribal seer advised the women to hide their children, to read them fairy stories, nothing about pirates or witches or anything scary, and to keep the orb there, by their child’s sides. She told them the orb could be a friend or a foe. The orb could be the death or the life of the entire world. The men scoffed at the old seer and took their young boys out hunting in the night, but upon their return the boys would have no orb. The boy would run to the mother and hug her, and her orb would vaporize.
The Tribal seer stood above the tribesmen, “you are vile and malevolent people, but I warn you; beware” she said, “for when the last orb is gone the skies will turn black and your nightmares will be realized”. She took her hand and waved it in front of her face and collapsed. The tribe stood for a moment watching. A small girl ran to the seer and placed her hand on her locket, and ripped it off.
“She's gone. I’m the new seer. You have awaited my arrival with great anticipation, but I tell you now. She was right. The end is coming…” the girl sunk to her knees and the dead seers body turned to ash. The wind swirled it around the girl.
“Malli! Malli!” a woman called running from the back towards the spiraling ash. She reached into it and it disappeared, leaving no traces of the girl or the seer. “Malli! Oh my god, my baby, where is my baby!”  The woman screamed on the ground, and a half naked man with a bow approached, and placed his left hand upon her shoulder.
The tribe grew restless, and a voice called “oh my god” from the back. Everyone turned to see a pasty boy, “we have no seer” he proclaimed. He wobbled as though about to faint and his orb dissolved in the air beside him. The tension grew amongst the crowd as they realized the boy held the last orb. The women grasped their children and ran inside leaving the men scattered around wondering what to do. They were all hunters, half-naked by tradition. Some had a knife hilt on their loincloths, others quivers. They worked together normally, the archer would cripple the animal and the knifeman would move in for the kill, and the preparation. Now none of the men knew what to do. Two men were holding up the pasty boy, and his father was scolding him.
The tribe waited for the skies to turn black but they never did. Almost a year later, the tribe had begun to tell of it like an old scary story. The story had spread through trade, so everyone in the land seemed to know where these orbs had come from and what the future was supposed to hold. Seer’s everywhere had confirmed such a thing would happen soon. Still, as the years dragged by no one had seen the magician since the orbs had appeared. The people suspected he was dead or in his abomination of a world. The lack of appearance of the blackness, the end as so bluntly put, seemed to be a confirmation that magic was all in the mind. As time dragged on, even children ceased to believe in magic. The Underground World began to slow down in front of the magicians eyes. He was not affected by time as he had become immortal, so he watched as his creatures slowly began to stop moving. The Underground World began to die, wilting from the core without the belief it needed to survive, as it ran on belief in magic, and without it, it would fade away. As the world slowly began to die, one being at a time, one man kept it alive. He watched the creatures that he had created and loved in turn die a slow painful death. He could not understand the brutality of fading away, the pain from the particles of their bodies weakening into oblivion. He had loved these creatures from the moment he had created them. He had sent orbs onto the earth to create more, to make creatures based on his people’s fears, but they had failed. So he watched until finally He couldn’t take it any longer. He gave up his immortality and sent all the feared magical creatures off onto the earth. All accept one. Then he shut the doorways into and out of The Underground World, producing five separate keys, which he cast to the earth. Then his once immortal life flowed into the soil of the Underground World.

Just a note...

It's VERY rough :-X.

Quite rough, but it's a pretty good preface. A few revisions and some polish, and a bit of angry drinking and throwing words at it until they all fit proper seems like it would be the best prescription.

Lol thanks Andre

Even though it's rough, I really really like it.

Aww thanks Kimberley .

Ha ha this was back before i knew the difference between your and you're....and apparently accept/except!

I have a LOT of editing to do but I was rereading the story today and from the prophecy onwards I was really sucked in so I think it has some potential....when it's cleaned up .