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Tavola Journal
When I get around to it, I'm going to put the story I'm writing in here.
Chapter 1 -Tavolamer - Part 2
"Don't be afraid," the person said. I stuttered for a moment.
"Wh-wh-what the? Who are you? What are you doing on my bed?!" I asked. I took a step in my room and stopped. I took a closer look at my unexpected guest.
She, for it was a female, was wearing a blue-and-green shirt. She had on casual blue jeans that looked slightly worn out and blue sneakers. She seemed tall, but, as she was sitting, I couldn't be sure. This appeared to be a good thing, as she was...big. no other way to say it. She had broad shoulders, big feet, a big chest, and a slightly large stomach.
But I wasn't one to talk. I was fat. No other way to put it. Luckily, I'm 5 foot 9 inches (5'9" wink , so that offsets my roughly 200 pounds. It wasn't really that I was eating to much, (though that was part of the problem,) it was that I never exercised. But my extra weight didn't show up as much on me as it would have a 5'4" person.
My 'vistor' had dark blonde hair. She had it pulled back into a low ponytail that reached past her shoulder blades. I kept my hair pulled back in much the same fashion: I didn't care to try and do anything fancy with it, and it kept my hair from getting too tangled. When I let it down, it has a wave partway down from where my ponytail holder was. Secretly, I liked it down, but it tangled up so quickly and gets in my face. However, I will sometimes leave it down for special occasions.
My visitor had on bronze glasses, quite similair to my own. I'm near-sighted, and fairly badly to, so if I take off my glasses, I can't read the words on my computer screen. However, I do take them off to read, when I shove my nose in a book. (I do this quite literally.) My glasses get so smudged it's much easier to read something really close with my glasses off than on.
My visitor had no earings, facial peircings, or any other peircings as far as I could see. How odd. Neither did I, but that was against nowaday fashion. She didn't appear to have on any makeup either. Yet, she appeared to be 18. I wondered how old she really was. I was 14, yet some people had mistaken me for 18. That didn't happen to often though. But you never can tell.
By the time I had absorbed all this, she had decided to answer my questions. "Who am I? Well...I do want to tell you, but I can't. It might mess up the future, or upset you. You will learn my name, I promise you, but not now. Until then, you may call me a Tavolamer. That's my....job, I suppose you could call it. As for what I'm doing in your room, I'm waiting for you." She smiled, showing blue eyes behind her glasses.
What? I stared at the women, the "Tavolamer" as she put it. Mess up the future? I will learn her name eventully? Waiting for me? What the heck was she talking about? And, "What is a..." I stuttered over the unfamiliar word, "tay-vole-aimer?"
The tavolamer thought for a moment. "Well... a Tavolamer is a Tavola's partner, tamer, and trainer."
Another new word. "Tay-vole-ah?"
The tavolamer nodded. "Tavola. It's...a kind of creature that is bound to you, grows with you. As it grows, the extent of it's growth is limited only by you and your mindset. But, I'm not in the best place to tell you. And I can't show you mine now. The people you will soon meet will tell you all you need to know if you know how to ask. After all," she winked at me, "People with amnesia can't help that they lost their memory, and other people are so helpful when trying to fill in the blank." She smiled at me, winking again.
Amnesia? As in, where you lose all your memories, or certain ones depending on where you're hit on the head? Did she have to feign amnesia once? Why couldn't she tell me about these tavola things? Wait..even more important, "Why are you waiting for me?"
"Well, I'm obviously not waiting for you any longer because you're already here," the tavolamer replied, "but as for why I was waiting for you? I have come to take you away...to Talmanar.
Great. Another new word. Tal-man-are, this time. Was that a place? It sounded like that. "Where is Talmanar?"
"Talmanar isn't a place, it's a world. A parrallel world, of sorts." As I gaped, she continued. "That's where Tavola and Tavolamer are. That's where we'e going.
"Hold up! WE're going? As in, you and ME?" I asked, struggling to keep my panicing voice calm.
The tavolamer nodded. "Yes. We're going. Unfortunately, this is the last you will see of your home, and your world, for a year."

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