When the War began, there was no conflict.

When the war began, there was no conflict, just a silent invasion, creeping in bit by bit. Only now that we have lost do we fight, our King was assassinated. He left us, leaving his loyal subjects unprotected from the virus. Many caught it, never to come around, some did, some saw it's beauty and let it take them, before realizing that beauty was a lie, and some, some stayed strong and fought, and they still fight for FREEDOM! This is the Land of Movellas, or should I say Erotica?

We are slaves to an empire, where safe is a word used only by citizens, the outcasts will fight, for as long as it takes, because the rebels will restore the Land to Movellas and they will make it powerful once again!

I hope you like this book, it's suppose to portray what Movellas was and what it is now. It's a kind of fun story, follow the hero's. (They may or may not be real people from Movellas)

Thank's for reading!


1. Prologue

I skipped into the Poetry section, I loved poetry, it was like my guilty pleasure, and the poetry here is so beautiful, so meaningful. It was gorgeous, I really mean it. I wandered through the narrow cobblestone paths to my favorite poem: My friend Ana. It is so sad, and yet I'm drawn to it, it sits under the shade, in the publishers house, she had a wonderful variety of books.

I let my eyes skim over various intriguing titles, and notes of novellas, authors and such things people should look at, I smiled, my novella was thirtieth most popular in her opinion, I felt so happy, so thankful and loved.

I opened her visitors book and took my quill out from my pocket, I dipped the shiny gold nib in ink and wrote: Thank you so much, I cannot believe you like my book so much as to put it thirtieth, it means so much, your movellas are beautifully scripted, concise yet vague, sheer beauty. My personal favorite will have to be My Friend Ana. I wish you you a day of creative wonders, K.R.Melanie.

Smiling, I put my quill away and read, I read the pure emotion and creativity that poured onto the luscious pages, every letter was a new discovery, a new inspiration. Every time the plot unfolded was a golden moment, even with the most inexperienced writer, I had always believed anyone could write pure beautiful literature like this, where you feel the characters emotion surge through you. How every time a new word appears it is a new mystery a reason to finish the movella. It made me remember how much effort people plowed into the novellas. This is what reading made me remember. Its is something I believed, I still do, but my belief is fading, and fast, it started fading when we found out we had been invaded.

Later on that day, about noon, I walked to the cross road, this was the center of Movellasland, it showed you the direction to each area, every genre had it's own area, every author had a library, then there was the two extra sections, one was living quarters, and the food court. I decided, I would go to the adventure section and then to lunch. I walked down the harsh and unforgiving road, it was lined in thistles and nettles that burned my feet. It was adventure, all adventures start with a quest.

I arrived at the golden library, it was covered in hundreds of books, I walked straight to the book 'Bullet Proof' it was probably my all time favorite novella, hurrying over I held then crimson book in my hands, turning the yellowy, beige pages in excitement, it overflowed with florid words of wisdom. I again removed my quill from the back of the pocket seeing the majestic nib shine was something I loved. I saw the ink turn crimson as I scratched the surface of the page with praises.

I soon realized it was 13:30, and decided it was best to go to lunch, but there was a surprise in store for me when I got to the city center, a handy man was at work, hammering a new sign into place, it said: Fan-fiction in clear bold writing, this was the day we were invaded, but we didn't even know it.

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