Anadella and the Forgotten Kingdom

by Justin Cox

Overview

In this dynamic fairy tale set in 1821, a teenage girl named Anadella falls in love with her best friend, James. A tragic event takes place when James falls off a cliff, and to her utter despair, she believes that he is dead until her grandmother explains to her the unexplainableJames may be alive. Anadella sets out on an adventurous journey alone to save and be with the love of her life. She not only obtains friends along the way that she will always remember but in the end is reunited with her royal family and twin sister, from whom she was separated at birth.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781496966513
Publisher:	AuthorHouse
Publication date:	01/27/2015
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	54
File size:	531 KB

About the Author

Justin Cox is a freelance writer, poet, and children’s e-book author who has a love for science and theology. He authored The Substitute Atonement and belongs to the writing group the Writing Room. US citizen by birth, he frequently travels to Venezuela where he helps construct churches and conducts outreach seminars. He is currently working on a master’s of divinity from Southwestern Theological Seminary, and his latest project is a children’s princess trilogy, Anadella and the Forgotton Kingdom, that he is compiling and will continue with the second book, which will be published next year.

Read an Excerpt

Anadella and the Forgotten Kingdom

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By Justin Cox

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2015 Justin Cox
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4969-6652-0

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CHAPTER 1

The Hiding Place

Once upon a time, deep in the forest just outside of town, stood a modest, mid-sized cabin. This cabin was simple consisting of only one bedroom and a loft. It was not a fancy residence, but it was where I grew up with my dear grandmother. The forest where we lived was always misty and foggy, except for two special days of the year. On those two days the thick fog would lift slightly, and I could see for miles.

Since I grew up in the forest, I lived adventurously. I loved to run through the woods, play along streams, and study the animals. And, I especially loved doing these things with my best friend, James. James was an odd fellow of average build with brown hair and Caucasian skin. He lived in the town of Bristol approximately thirty minutes away if traveling on horseback. James attended a very small school of about fifty children, typical for our region. Whenever he had opportunity, James would spend his evenings with me in the forest. We would often spend hours playing along the stream that ran by my cabin. The remainder of the evenings I devoted to my own studies and read books for school. My grandmother taught me at home.

Grandmother was loved by all of the townspeople and was known as a compassionate, soft-hearted, and brilliant woman. She was an inventor, and our house contained many of her inventions which assisted us in our daily living. In addition to these attributes, Grandmother was also very protective of me. She forbade me from straying too far from the cabin for fear of the thick fog and the dangerous animals within the forest.

Once I followed the stream that led north to a dirt road where carriages and horses crossed. This was a great curiosity to me, and not long after, James and I met early in the morning to explore beyond the road. We decided to follow the stream to the dirt road and beyond as this would be the easiest route to retrace our way home. Setting out early in the morning, we reached the crossing and then continued to the other side. A slight thrill flared up inside as I crossed the road. I am not sure if it was the excitement of the unexplored territory or the realization that Grandmother would certainly disapprove of this venture. Either way, this beautiful sunny day found me giddy with excitement. James glanced my way often, sharing in the joyous smile on my face. I had never been in the forest on the opposite side of the dirt road, and this was something that I had to do, a task that I had to fulfill. The woods were dangerous, but my sense of curiosity and intrigue would not allow me to turn back.

James and I continued to follow the stream deeper into the woods, and within an hour's time, we noticed that the current was growing stronger and the roar of the water louder. As we proceeded downstream, the trees appeared to be separating and thinning, and the scenery before us seemed to be getting brighter. The stream was twice as wide here as it was at the start, and just a few hundred feet ahead, it led to a cliff side. As we approached the cliff, we noticed that the stream dropped over the edge into a waterfall. We couldn't see the bottom because of the density of the spray, but it was still a beautiful sight as the water ran straight over the cliff. What a glorious moment it was! The scenery was breathtaking, and from that point on, this became our favorite place.

For several weekends James and I spent all of our free time at the waterfall. We enjoyed throwing rocks over the cliff into the unending, misty abyss. One day while watching the water falling, we realized that the raging, roaring noise faded to complete silence towards the bottom. Since we could not hear the water hit the bottom, we assumed that it must be a long ways down.

I will never forget one special day at the waterfall, one of those rare days when the fog lifted. James and I were playing, pushing one another and having fun flirting, when over the edge of the cliff, James noticed a bridge crossing the canyon. We figured that the bridge must lead to where the dirt road and the canyon meet, but neither of us had ever known of its existence until then. With curiosity stirred, I walked toward the outline of the bridge. James, more cautious than I, was hesitant to go too far, but as I followed the cliff side all the way to the bridge, he yelled for me to wait and ran to my side.

Arriving at the bridge, we were amazed at its length as we couldn't see to the other side. I quickly climbed over the railing onto the bridge. James followed my lead, and we began to walk across the firm steel rails, peering down through the grates to the canyon below. It was difficult to tell how old the bridge was, but it showed deep wear and corrosion, and the rusty steel rivets were huge giving the impression that it was intended for something much heavier than horses and carriages.

About halfway across James glanced back to where we had begun and noticed a building on the hillside of the bridge tucked into the cliff and only partly visible. James has always loved structures such as tree forts and hideouts, and with this discovery, he turned shouting and ran back down the bridge towards the building. His actions did not make sense to me, but after all, he is a boy, and nothing boys do makes sense, so I followed him, running as well and shouting, "Wait up for me!"

James rounded the rail at the end of the bridge and began beating the brush to form a path through the tall grass to the building. By this point, he was so engrossed in the infatuation of his discovery that it was pointless to try to communicate with him at all. I did notice while standing by the rail at the end of the bridge that the building could hardly be seen at all from this vantage, and I could understand how we had missed seeing it when beginning our trek across the bridge. The roof was covered in moss and brush, and it looked as if the side of the cliff was falling onto the building. This thought made me frightened to go any further, but not James. I am not sure if it is completely courage or partly stupidity that drives him, but up to the house he ran.

I followed close behind, and as James arrived at the door and began to open it, we were met with a sterol smell emanating from inside. As he slowly entered, he found himself in an old wooden structure with wide floorboards and thick support beams. It was dark and scary, and I stood at the doorway behind him watching him enter the void. He walked over to one side almost out of my sight, and I could barely see him as he unlatched and opened a shutter and then another and another. The light from these three windows on the outside wall glistened through the haze of dust he had stirred up revealing living quarters, probably the home of a former bridge caretaker. The support beams began at the rooftop and continued through the floor, stabilizing the building and supporting it on the side of the hill. The room, although unfurnished, bare, and dirty, appeared to be a living room of sorts. Further investigation revealed a small bedroom in the back left corner, and to the right, a staircase leading to a small porch with a four-foot banister around the perimeter. While standing on this porch in the rare clearness of this special day, we could easily see the water fall off the cliff into the mist.

I thought the building, although enchanting, quite dilapidated and certainly not safe for young explorers, but James was smitten, and from that moment, the building became his new fort and our special place where we could spend time together without anyone knowing where we were or what we were doing. At our place we were free from all restraints. We spent weekend after weekend there, playing games, running around, and even pretending that we were married and rich.

It was springtime in the town of Bristol, and the town's people were busy preparing their fields and sowing their seed. This particular day also marked exactly three months before my eighteenth birthday, and I was guardedly excited, my feelings mixed, wavering between hope and anxiety. It was a Saturday which meant that I would get to see James's face once again. There was something about him that always caught my eye, but I was never quite able to put my finger on it. Perhaps it was the awkward moments that we shared or his simple jokes that weren't really funny, but we both laughed anyway. Or maybe it was the way his bangs always fell into his eyes that I thought was cute. I really don't know.

This day was like any other day in Bristol, bright and sunny outside, warm with humid air and a light breeze. Glancing in the mirror before walking outside, I saw the reflection of a five and a half foot tall, skinny self with what was supposed to be hair but looked more like a nappy mop on my head. James arrived shortly, and I bade Grandmother farewell as she handed me a packed lunch and a few snacks for the day. As usual she cautioned me to stay safe and to be home before dark.

After we left home, we headed upstream to our favorite place, the waterfall. We arrived before the sun hit mid-sky and headed straight to our fort to open the windows. Leaving our lunch and other belongings there, we headed out to play. We swam in the stream and built bridges with sticks and logs, but this day, something unexpected happened. There was a moment, a moment that I will never forget as long as I live. As I was placing sticks in the water and watching them go over the falls, suddenly water fell down on me like rain. James had splashed me when I wasn't looking. I quickly turned and stared at him intensely, but he had a look of innocence upon his face that quickly transitioned to a smile.

At that moment I had a choice to make – I could let things be or I could seek revenge. I cupped both of my hands into the water and splashed back in the name of revenge and in the name of all my ancestors. In the midst of all the splashing we could not see each other clearly. I could hear his footsteps getting louder, and he leaped from the water tackling me in the air. Splash! We were then both in the water. I instinctively began hitting him shouting, "I can't believe you just did that!" He couldn't stop laughing, and I wanted to punch him right in the face. We climbed out of the water, and I started wringing the water out of my dress. As we turned to look at one another, we both breathed a sigh of relief. James wanted to lie in the grass and dry out, and although I really didn't want to, I lay down anyway and gazed at the sky.

The sun was past mid-sky, and we both realized it was time to return home. We picked ourselves up and headed back to the caretaker's house where we had left our lunch and belongings. On our way, James reached over and grabbed my hand. We walked hand in hand all the way there.

As we entered the house, I left the door wide open behind me, walked over to pick up some of our clothes from the floor by the bedroom, and James managed to grab his by the windows. Suddenly, we heard loud breathing, almost like a snorting back near the doorway. We both turned only to find ourselves gazing at a large bear. In sudden panic, we both froze not knowing what to do. I glanced at James and could see that, as usual, he was quickly analyzing the situation. He looked over to his right, noted the window on the back wall in the bedroom next to the side of the hill, and then he looked back at the bear. While keeping eye contact with the bear, he instructed me to run for the bedroom window. I didn't want to leave him. I thought to myself that I could surely do something, but no ideas came to my mind. I couldn't move, and my knees were shaking fiercely.

Finally James reached over and grabbed me with one arm. I hadn't even seen him moving closer to me, and looking into his eyes, I quickly gasped for air. His eyes gave me courage, and I knew what must be done. I ran for the window, opened it in haste, and climbed up the hillside until I reached the top. Turning, I searched for James. As the bear approached, James had turned and run for the staircase leading to the balcony. He knew that it was not the best option, but his goal was to lead the bear away from me. James bolted for the balcony with the bear only moments behind him. As he reached the balcony, he turned to his left intending to climb over and up the hillside, but he slipped and slid across the boards and between the railing posts. He managed to grab one of the posts and hang on for his life, dangling over the canyon. Frozen with fear, I tried to run to him but could not move. I watched as the bear came out the door after him and the supports under the porch cracked from the excess weight. With all of his strength, trying to maintain his grip, James started to swing and managed to grab another railing post with his right hand. I screamed, whether to distract the bear or simply out of fear I am not really sure. James was helplessly trapped, and the bear was drawing near. As we both cried, "No!" the bear reached midway across the balcony and the supports gave way beneath them. A solid scream was coming from deep inside, and tears instantly began to flow down my face, as if a dam had been opened. Watching James and the bear fall into the mist below, I collapsed to my knees, weeping and heaving. Like a scratched record, the scene played over and over in my mind. It wouldn't stop.

An hour passed, although it felt more like five minutes, as I lay there on the ground. I never opened my eyes, denying reality. I tried to get up but felt too weak to move. Another twenty minutes passed, and attempting to get up again, I almost collapsed. I stumbled around, but wasn't able to stand. I felt dead. Actually, I didn't feel anything at all. I knew I must go back and tell Grandmother what had happened. I reached way down inside myself and conjured up the strength to head back to town, leaving everything that was not on me behind.

As I approached town, I noticed how dark it was. Grandmother would be waiting for me, wondering why I was so late and worrying. I had never been this late before, and I knew she would be frantic, but I didn't care about anything. I couldn't think. I couldn't focus. I could barely walk. Eventually, I walked through the door of the cabin, and seeing the devastated look on my face, Grandmother knew something was wrong. She dropped her book, leaped from her chair, and caught me as I collapsed. Holding me tightly to her chest, she asked, "What's wrong?" I could not speak. I was shaking furiously, and Grandmother dragged me over to a chair and sat me down. With a towel from the hallway closet, she dried me off.

I sat there numb, blankly staring into nowhere, gazing at the empty space on the floor. As Grandmother reached for the top shelf to retrieve another dry towel, the words escaped me. "James is gone," I slowly whispered.

"He's gone?" Grandmother ran over to me, wrapped the white towel around me, and asked, "What do you mean, he's gone?"

I replied, "He fell into the canyon. He fell."

Grandmother grabbed me and held me close. She hugged and squeezed me tightly and said, "It'll be okay, darling. It'll be okay." She held me tight and rocked me back and forth until I calmed down.

Then she pulled away, and staring right into my eyes, she said, "Now, tell me everything that happened."

I proceeded to tell her about what had happened, how the bear had come, where we had been, how James and the bear had fallen. After I was through, Grandmother paused for a few moments waiting. Then she walked over to the stove and moved the pot of stew to another burner. She had supper heated for me. After removing the pot, she ordered me to go to my room and change my clothes. When I came out with dry clothes, Grandmother reached for a sweater and handed it to me telling me to put my shoes on. I knew what was coming. I knew that I would have to go with her into town to tell James's family what had happened. I did not want to go. I didn't want to talk to anybody. I didn't want to see anybody, and I didn't want to move. She grabbed my arm and holding it firmly opened the door and forcefully walked me out.

We traveled to town which was fairly quiet in the evening. We headed to James's parents' house and proceeded to tell them what had happened. Actually, Grandmother did all of the talking while I sat there crying. James's father quickly left for the sheriff's office to explain what had happened. James's father, the sheriff, and a few neighbors went down to the bridge and looked around for any sign of James, but, as usual, the fog was too thick and the lanterns did not provide much light. They could not see anything beyond 100 feet over the canyon edge. Yelling and shouting, they searched for hours, looking for anything that would offer a sign of life. They even tied rope to a tree and hoisted a few men down the side of the canyon. Descending several hundred feet, hoping against hope, they found no sign of James.

The next morning Grandmother did not wake me but allowed me to sleep in and get some extra rest. I rested for many days as I bore the tragic loss of my friend and love. Weeks passed, and nothing seemed to improve. There remained a gaping hole in my heart and an emptiness that could not be filled by the everyday activities of life. I didn't even want to go outside, but Grandmother prompted me to face my fears by visiting the waterfall and the caretaker's house.

That morning I told her, "This is the worst idea that I have ever heard. The hurt is already unbearable, and now you want me to go back to that awful place?" Tears began to run down my face.

"Yes," she replied.

I just looked away. It was unbearable. No one should ever have to go through something like this. I didn't agree with her or with anything that she was saying, but I knew that I could not spend the rest of my life hiding in this cabin, even though I wanted to.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Anadella and the Forgotten Kingdom by Justin Cox. Copyright © 2015 Justin Cox. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

Chapter 1: The Hiding Place, 1,
Chapter 2: The Leap of Faith, 14,
Chapter 3: A Magical Moment, 20,
Chapter 4: The Wisdom of Fishing, 26,
Chapter 5: True Kindness, 30,
Chapter 6: A Mirror Image, 38,
Chapter 7: Rational Spirits, 43,