Novel & Cerita The Village Book

She expected it to be livelier, full of life, and free but the village she was looking at right now, was way different than she thought. Where were the streets full of horse-carriages? Where were the little shops she expected to see by the side of the roads? Where were the lots of moving pedestrians? Were the descriptions of villages in the storybooks lies or was something wrong with the village? Chickens and goats were roaming everywhere with their little chicks and kids beside them. Angela was expecting a whole lot more than what she was seeing now. The animals and the trees were the only things moving. “Everywhere looks so quiet.”

"So cold," Lia muttered. The village was cloaked in a serene quiet that only deepened as dusk settled. Lia tightened her scarf around her neck, clutching a small stack of borrowed books against her chest as she walked along the dirt path leading home. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and distant woodsmoke, and the only sound accompanying her was the crunch of her boots against the gravel. She had spent a peaceful evening at the village library, poring over books on famous artists and techniques that might inspire her next painting. The librarian, a kind woman named Ms. Agatha, had let her linger longer than usual.

My village community was small, with only around two thousand people, and we were what outsiders considered old-fashioned and self-sufficient, which meant that everyone worked, regardless of age but like all old-style villages the men had their place and so did the women, we all travelled by horse, horse, and cart, or on foot. We have the fundamental stores that any country town has or requires in the village’s main centre, including a seamstress for our clothes, a butcher, a bakery, and a market for all the fresh fruit, vegetables, dairy, and any food for the village’s animals. In addition, we have a small school, a blacksmith, and a healer. The blacksmith and the healer are the only ones w

It was entitled The Curse Black Book. Once upon a time, there was a magical book that everyone in the village secretly avoids. Whoever named written in that book will die instantly. Though, not everyone believes in it. "What is this place, Saint?" I asked out of nowhere. "You see, this is a library." I can feel his sarcasm. "And human, I don't want you to call me by my name so quit it." My forehead, wrinkled when I turned to him.

Raymond was pouring coffee, humming something soft under his breath, shirtless as usual, entirely too distracting. "What’s this?" I asked. He glanced over. "Read it." I unfolded the note. > Dear lovers, There is a bookstore in the village. Not just any bookstore. One where people leave pieces of themselves behind. Pages of poetry. Notes. Secrets. The owner lets you browse, read, and write your own. Consider it today’s adventure. —Mama Elsie I smiled so hard it hurt, “you planned this also right?” He nodded. --- Later That Morning The drive down was quiet.

On both sides of the road, featureless snowfields stretched as far as the eye could see. “What’s the name of this village, brother?” Andrei asked. The Patrolman spat makhorka-brown spittle. “Little Wells,” he answered. So, this was a village? Svetlana wrinkled her nose. Everybody knew that villages contributed to the defense of Motherland by feeding the cities where the sacred work of manufacturing weapons of Light was being carried on. But Svetlana was a city girl and had no precise image of the countryside beyond the golden sheaves of corn on the cover of her textbook. What she was seeing bore little resemblance to the picture.

Flora laughed along. They walked a little more, and a village appeared before Flora. "Here is the village. The island is not so big, so there are not a lot of establishments here," Damien introduced the place to Flora. She looked around. She saw a house which seemed to be the village convenience store. There were rice and fruit stands and different goods of many kinds. The rest of the place were houses. Wooden and concrete built houses of different sizes but all with plants of vegetables and flowers. The fences were not woods or steel, they were plants that grow high but neatly trimmed not more than a man's midways high to see the in and out of the yards, from neighbors to neighbors.

I showed her the pictures that the author attached to the founders' names. Her eyes glanced at the pictures curiously, "these people look so young here... and beautiful. Imagine being in your early twenties and discovering a settlement that you can built.... Awesome." Liza muttered, taking the book from me to have a better look. She looked over at Axil who sat in the chair opposite of us and was deeply engrossed in staring at the images in the TV screen. "Hey Axil, these are the founders of this village. You recognize any?" Axil looked over at us and took the book that Liza offered, peering at the pictures curiously.

The welfare of the village'' concluded Halvir. **

Eli was busy with a lot of work in his study right now, giving her the opportunity to sneak off to her room and pull out the Black book. Her hands trembled as she grabbed it out of where she had carefully tucked it away. With a deep breath, she opened it and started skimming through it. A could of pages in and she knew this was a book she would not be returning. There was just so much information, she would need the whole book with her and a few jottings will never be able to do justice. There were the 199 names of the past brides, the village they were from, the night they were chosen, and the night of their suspected disappearance.