ALFERIEL THE LAVENDER TIME BOMB "Bathory Barthenheier Nicolzah Athena X" (24)

On the cover is my beautiful eldest daughter,
BLOODLINE PRIME COUNTESS:
DEACON
Lady Bathory Draculliah (Dray-sue-lei-ya) Barthenheier
"ATHENA"

Call it magic or universe gifts.
But, just as the world revolves around the sun, my love for you will last forever!
Daddy adores you so, Lil Pooper!


https://www.youtube.com/shorts/OI3EX_ImLg0


Bathory's "NEW" post-college attitude after "POPPA BEAR" made some modifications!
"OH MY GOD, BATHORY! DAD DON'T DO WOKE, MAN!" (Well my eldest sister's completely awake now!)

DAD'S, ANTI-WOKE ATTITUDE MEDICINE WORKS FAST AS H*LL!
Suddenly, my "TINY" sister is as camera-shy as a mouse since her new "WOKE" 6'8" boyfriend was delivered "DAS BOOT" six months ago!

Since then, she has really blossomed into a wonderful, self-confident woman! WOW! What a remarkable change she has earned!

(It's great fun for me to be able to assist my father! To put it simply, cuz I'm a "LIL BRAT, MAN!")

I admire how our father thinks about things.
Bathory met a guy her age in college who was a second-year basketball player.
It was extremely lovely!
That is, until Dad found out!

"WHY... YOU CAN'T BE DATE-IN WITH THAT FELLER, DRACIE!"
"What? But, father, why? I'm almost 22, and he's only a year older!"
"Well... it's not always the age, boy!"
"GIRL! So, what then, poppa?"
"Well... I mean... yer 4' 10" an... ya say he be ah whopping 6'8"! Right?"
"Ya! So...so, what!"
"Well h*ll... think about it, Jethro! That chit alone gotta be worth at least... twenty to life somewhere on this fricking planet!
Don't taken that kind' a risk, boy!"
"GIRL!"
"That's what I meant."
LMBO!
ARN 

Okay fam, like, can you even believe what a bizarre life I'm living as the daughter of this super old and senile Danish Count? It's, like, totally insane, yawl! 
Seriously! On a whole new level of... OMG!
"CAN'T HANDLE IT ANYMORE!"
LMBO!







ALFERIEL THE LAVENDER TIME BOMB
A novel by COUNT: V V Nicolzah
(unedited/unabridged. Copy writes protected)

Please keep in mind that the title "LAKE FAERIE" does not belong to me.
"ALL" deepest appreciation goes to one very special "ANGEL!"
And she has the blessed name... "HEATHER!"
THANK YOU, HEATHER! You and yours are deeply cherished by the warm hearts that beat within my beloved Nicolzah daughter's and me.





ALFERIEL THE LAVENDER TIME BOMB


The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath is the everlasting arms. Deuteronomy 33:27.

Have you ever wanted to read a disturbing diary of Valkyrie Vladimir Nicolzah, the madman of Kolding? Well, now you can!
HEY! I'M HERE! Come on, let's read together!
Shall we turn to page one of this ancient journal to find out the truth about this psychotic old fart?
"Diary of a Madman"
NAH-DAH! Inappropriate, sounds more like a confession from a convict than a diary of a schizophrenic, old Danish Count who hails from glorious Titan!
HUMM!
By golly, I don't believe this a diary any more than I believed my old flame was hot!"


Prologue:

As the old hick suggested another game to his blind date, he warned. "You'll need batteries for this one!"

A sudden shite-eating grin formed over my lips.
"What an intriguing opening! I apologize dear reader, but I have no recollection of writing such gibberish! Or... Whatever the outcome may be! Let's continue! Shall we?"

If you concentrate intensely and unimpeded, you can capture my hidden vision of the Great Glen Way and South Loch Ness Trail. Look even more complex, and you will see the two merge near Fort Augustus, at the bottom of Loch Ness. Home of the blessed lake monster, Nessie.

Now that you have accomplished that task consider the charm of a quaint, little village that sits silently on the Caledonian Canal, bathing in the warmth of the early morning spring sun. There was a predominant aroma of peppermint and ginger.

In the next scene is a sparkling sea filled with the abundance of purified genuine, Lake Faerie gold dust and even magical fantasies for those still young at heart! Such an encouraging place where wishes come true and imaginations run fancy-free to play with the young Newberry Elves and feisty old Scottish Trolls alike.

This vantage point affords viewers a picturesque vision of the canal's colorful boats as they lazily pass through the locks.

Seeing as how we've finally arrived! Hold my hand, please. This will help you picture my world transformed by the awesome potential of renewed faith!

Here we go!

IT WAS HERE! In this very spot, a young but ferocious warrior from the Lavender Bay clan once fought. A young, beautiful girl universally known as Alferiel, The Lake Faerie Raven.

All the most feared English barons and high-ranking Scottish nobles frequently let her name flow off their ridged tongues.

  Even the 'Hammer of the Scots' sits impatiently on his throne, full of dread. "THE LAKE FAERIE RAVEN MUST NOT COME FRUITION!" says the most ferrous monarch, Edward Longshanks, concealing his expressions of stress and anxiety.

  For those unsure, intrepid English warriors, this was merely a farce to take on such insurmountable odds!

With much grief, the King commands his valiant soldiers to enter war and confront The Raven! The most formidable foe he has ever faced! Alferiel! The indestructible master of war!

Then, in the year of our Lord, twelve hundred and ninty-eight, in the month of July, a chance suddenly presented itself for the obstinate, wicked King to vanquish both of his most powerful foes, William Wallace and Alferiel!

Hugh de Cressingham, the Scottish Treasurer, and the Earl of Surrey, Edward 1st's lieutenant in Scotland, led the English army during the English campaign in Scotland. Neither considered Wallace nor The Raven, to be a threat and expected that their powerful army would annihilate both of the rebel Scots.

  Gadwin E. Quodlibiet (Quad-ill-bee-yet) King of the Lavenders, eventually heard those words of disaster, which produced quite a commotion among his devoted clan followers and prompted them to call for an urgent revolt.

  In the western highlands of Hismelklghast, a nobleman named Elmendorf of the Teresa-Bella clan issued the following order: "I insist on an emergency meeting with the war council of the Sabellian troops immediately!"

  The King said, "Chieftain Elmendorf, I do not know if that is really conceivable at the moment."

  "Sire!" exclaimed Diocese Gneissic. He carefully shook his head. "I'm not sure why you're having so much trouble communicating with the Raven! Did she lose sight of her role in the fortress?"

  As the King charged back, the Diocese regained his composure and sat down. Clearing his throat, King Quodlibet continued. "I have no problem conversing with the Raven or her council."

"So, Sire, why is there a delay?" Field Marshal Keiller inquired cautiously.

There was no mistaking the King's anger as he proclaimed, "FINDING THE LITTLE TURD! THAT IS THE CHALLENGE!"

 The Field Marshal inquired, "Are the whereabouts of her captain equally difficult?"

  The King laughed as he rolled his weary eyes: "No. In every situation, you can count on their support. The Raven frequently goes forth in search of fresh adventures with, Roevie Wade! That Lake Faerie from the "Troublemaker Tribe" is her best buddy! I SWEAR! FOR WEEKS AT A TIME THEY DON'T RETURN! "

An anxious twitch ran through the Field Marshal's body. "If I may be so bold as to warn Your Majesty, that our adversaries are circling expectantly outside the city walls!"

  The King gestured at his subjects by tapping his fingers. "I agree wholeheartedly! That is a fact. It is critical that you accurately document this morning's meeting, scribe! Please double-check your notes."

The Peruvian transcriptionist nodded, eager to get back to work.

The irritated King bellowed, "I directed the mayor to dispatch three Royal Court Guards to Pandora Wanderlust Isle!" His expression melted with worry. "Conduct another search for those kids right away!" he demanded.

"You must deliver these orders to city hall!" the elderly scribe instructed his runner. The youth vanished behind the privacy curtains of the council chambers and out the dark brown oak door to the crowded streets below as soon as he received the message.

   WARNING!

  The door to freedom is closing inexorably if you let go of my hand now, dear reader. If you dare, you'll never escape the strange dream world that lives only within my mind.

Can you even fathom how unsettling that would be?



 

Chapter I

Trepidation Thrust Upon Us

act I

The Lord gives strength to his people with peace. Psalm 29:11.

  Most people's experiences on Pandora Wanderlust Isle completely beyond their greatest dreams. Many of the strange things that can happen there are not readily explained. Also, there are Trolls to contend with! There has to be Trolls in this tale, by golly!

  The Cecil Ingot nightingales perform nightly at 10 p.m. What a breathtaking sight it is!

  Because of the ferocity with which they flap their clarabella white wings, the black night takes on a fluorescent Framboise brandy red colour flecked with the tiny sparkles of blue and gold. This magnificent spectacle has dusted this beautiful shoreline with thousands of tons of real Lake Faerie gold.

  Now, doesn't that just blow your mind?

 The key is to stay alert as you stroll down this famous beach, to plan, and to avoid upsetting the Guanabara Troll watchers at any cost. Those little turds can be a real pain, and they're easy to spot thanks to their brass armor and intimidating Claymore combat axes.

Venturing into the lush Elfish jungle, you will find a rose ember pond filled with Tupendarrie goldfish and Pepperdine tadpoles! Now, these little fellers are cool!

 However, it's best to take the old green Gazebo Toad with a grain of salt. Because of the old guy's constant inebriation, he rarely takes himself seriously and slurs a lot of nonsense! No different from yourself, I'd assume, if you're still reading this shite! I digress!

  Now on with the story!

Talley Ho! Have fun!

    end of act I

     act II

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalms 73:26.

Alferiel had prepared a response to King Quodlibet's urgent request for her attention.

It took one hour for King Quodlibet to get The Raven's receipt.

"To my most kind and respected monarch, King Quodlibet." Lavander clan's ruler! I'm writing to respond:

"I pondered amid the midnight dreary, ignoring your orders, yet hoping you'll beer me!

As I drooled, almost dozing, suddenly there came a rapping, as if someone were tapping... yes, rapidly tapping! Tapping upon me chamber door. 'An unknown messenger,' I muttered with a frown. 'It is he who is rapping, yes, rudely tapping! Tapping upon my chamber door! Only this and nothing more!'

Sorry, old boy, I fell back to sleep! SO, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YA, KING GRANNY-POPPER!"

Sincerely, The Raven

Transcribed by, Roevie Wade

Back at Fort Augustus, the royal castle.

King Quodlibet scratched the side of his practically bald head and demanded, "Now, why does this kid insist on being so danged difficult to understand? Petulantly hard to comprehend!"

"Perhaps because you let the little snots get away with murder!" cynically remarked the Queen as she poured the King his fifth goblet of his favorite nightcap, "Mad Dog 2020!"

"Dear! Please be careful with your comments about this youngster!" He mumbled his remark. "She has a terrible short fuse! She performs the most bizarre things when upset. Happens every time!"

"She has been having issues since she keeps smoking that Lake Faerie marijuana herb! The Queen insisted. "She and that pathetic little Roevie! All of their odors are awful!"

King's attitude changed quickly to one of revulsion. "You mentioned "order" and I do not know what you're referring to. Also, I'm not interested in finding out!" He insisted on it adamantly. "Besides, the Bishop has diagnosed her with Drop syndrome.

She paused her crocheting to look up. "What is Drop Syndrome?"

"Dropped on one's head during infancy."

Her Majesty gasped, "That's terrible! As far as we know, she could be knot-head! We'd know no better!"

The King shook his intoxicated head. "Get a grip! She is Queen Knot-Head!"

"True!" replied the Queen snickered.

A Lake Faerie is far too esoteric for science studies of the world. Hence is beyond average individual's the rational frame of mind. This explains their extremely odd conduct.

Lake Faeries are easily recognizable by their physical similarities, which include blue-tinted butterfly eyes, sharp ears twice that of a human, and long piercing fangs of ivory white.

They nickname her Roevie (Ree-Vee), although Alferiel's best friend is actually Catalina Wade. She was only 4 feet 10 inches tall and sported a lovely blond pixy cut and a pair of large, black horn rim sunglasses. Our Blessed Mother Mary, Queen of the Saints, gave her two sets of fangs.

An Amber-Rose Lake Faerie, Roevie hails from the Moldovan city of Drochia, and she has a spiteful, volatile personality and a very peculiar sense of spirit. OMG! She really, really dislikes Trolls. Every time she encounters one, she walks up to it and slaps the snot out of it, for no apparent reason. WTF!

To ensure that justice will maintain for the residents of Pandora Wanderlust Isle, the Diocese has suggested that a restraining order is what Roevie needs.

Roevie, however, did not take kindly to that. She roared at Raven's nonsensical response: "I OBJECT!"

"I cannot understand! What is to object to, Catalina?" asked Alferiel, a bit confused. "You physically assault Trolls, which is one thing that I strictly prohibit." 

"And I shall be able to do whatever I wish with my hands, Alferiel!"

"Yes! I agree, sister! However, clobbering Trolls poses a problem!"

Hands-on hips! Roevie insisted matter-of-factly as if some BLM wanted a bee defense attorney. "IT'S MY HANDS! IT'S MY CHOICE! IT'S OK!"

The Raven was not happy with that statement in the lease! She pointed her finger toward the exit as she promptly stood. "OUT! GET OUT OF MY CHAMBERS THIS INSTANT!" she ordered.

"ON WHOSE AUTHORITY!"

"I AM THE AUTHORITY!"

"OH! Because you're The Raven!" Roevie sassed disrespectfully.

Alferiel slowly reclaimed her seat. "Nah, dah!" she calmly answered.

"If that is not the case, then why?"

"Since you are thirteen, I will be FOURTEEN NEXT MONTH!"

As she contemplated the thought, Roevie remained silent. A few seconds passed. "Yeah, yeah! I digress!"

  "Chop, chop! Get yourself dressed! There is an important King who awaits us."

Roevie prepared to depart the Raven's quarters. "Just the way I am, I'm going!"

Alferiel was instantly enthralled by her closest friend's remark. "What are you saying?"

Suddenly, Roevie swooped through the dark purple silk curtains. "MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY AS LONG AS I HAVE A WAY!"

Instantaneously, Alferiel rose. "AT LEAST PUT ON SOME PANTS!"

Roevie's footsteps halted for an instant. "IT MAKES VERY LITTLE SENSE FOR ME TO WEAR PANTS WHEN I'M ALREADY WEARING SHORTS!"

Alferiel opened the drapes and yelled down the hallway. "WOULD YOU CONSIDER THAT APPROPRIATE TO WEAR IN THE PRESENCE OF YOUR KING?"

Roevie laughed back. "DON'T FORGET, I'M ON BORROWED TIME! THE KING ISN'T MINE, DEAR! HE'S ALL YOURS!" With an evil grin she teased, "LUCKY GIRL!"

There are no words to express what the Raven really wanted to say. "I'm afraid you're correct." She grumbled.

One hour later.

  A ferocious swarm of Collier bees attacked the small group of Lake Faerie warriors along the way to Fort Augustus. Their stings were far more painful than those of mainland species.

It was now a fight to the death as they forced the group to duck to cover under bushes and thickets and to wait out the attack as best they could.

One sting can send even the healthiest man to the dispensary for days with an uncontrollable fever, and the Faeries knew this well.

As the Raven fought to keep the pests out of her breastplate, she ordered, "DON YOUR HELMET AND ANY OTHER GEAR AT YOUR DISPOSITION!"

By contrast, Roevie remained exposed and vulnerable to attack because she was in the open, unlike the other four Faeries. As she fought the insects coming from all directions, they repeatedly attacked her bare face.

"ALFERIEL! HELP!" she screamed.

In a flash, the Raven flew out of the base of an Ansberry bush as she struggled to wrap her black cape around her best friend's head. "Keep your eyes closed and cover thy mouth! It is your salt they seek."

The Raven was right; these bees get extremely temperamental when they don't get what they want. So their aggressive attacks continued with a vengeance.

Roevie inhaled deeply while Alferiel tightened the robe's bottom around her best friend's throat, protecting her from bees entering through her chamois nanny goat blouse.

"RAVEN!" screamed Amanda Sweetpea in dispersion! "YOU HAVE NO PROTECTION ON YOUR CHEST!" she warned. "FAST! Grab something!"

As the Raven batted away an annoying pest, she said, "I HAVE NOTHING TO DON!"

"IF THAT IS THE CASE, I SUGGEST YOU FIND SOMETHING IMMEDIATELY!"

Despite her best efforts, Roevie failed miserably in covering her head and face. The Raven quickly wrapped Roevie's exposed shoulders and upper arms a second later with her black satin wimple.

Heather shouted, "ALFERIEL! LOOK!" as the second wave of Collier bees approached. They were so many that they appeared as black blotches emerging from the clouds.

The Raven threw herself across Roevie's body and shielded her as she pinned her best friend to the ground.

Despite having their stingers, the bees didn't fight with them during the second attack. Instead, they mimicked miniature kamikazes and struck the girls with incredible force.

As a result, Alferiel was beaten to a pulp as the insane insects repeatedly ricocheted off her mid-back, upper shoulders, and arms.

In a scream, she cried out at the overwhelming pain inflicted upon her. "HEAVENLY FATHER! I BEGGETH THEE! PLEASE SAVE MY SISTERS!"

It was over with the Collier bees in an instant!

The Raven was a bloody mess as she collapsed into the grass after being knocked unconscious by the bees' repeated blows to the back of her head.

After a few moments, Heather poked her head up to see if there were more threats in the distance. Although she saw nothing alarming, she saw the Raven bleeding on the grass as Roevie struggled to free herself from under Alferiel's collapsed body.

A cry rang out from Heather! "AMANDA! CHYALLYAH! (Sea-Yall-Yah) GATHER THE HORSES! NO ROAMING ALLOWED!" she giggled in amusement. Roevie struggled to roll the Raven's limp body off her, panting heavily as all her field armor weighed her down.

"CHYALLYAH! I NEED MY BLACK SATCHEL; PLEASE GRAB IT OUT OF MY SADDLE, PLEASE!"

It didn't take Chyallyah long to locate Lilly, Heather's Appaloosas, who was enjoying the afternoon sun while napping by this point.

Despite her repeated commands, the stubborn horse would not move. "LILLY! GET UP, FOOL!" Soon, she gave up, collapsing into the tall, green wild grass.

As Chyallyah lay across Lilly's side, she reported to Heather that there had been no progress. "YOUR STUPID OL' HORSE IS STEADFAST IN HER WAYS! CAN GET HER TO BUDGE ONE TINY BIT!"

A soft breeze blew over Alferiel's head as Heather laid her back on the grass. "COMING!" she called back. "She's going to be fine! I'll be back soon."

"Okay!" replied Roevie.

"Should she become conscious, sing out!"

Heather slipped into the tall grass beside her horse's head as Lilly seemed in no mood for Heather's horsing around. She whispered, "Lilly," in a sweet tone. "Is it possible for you to get up for mommy?"

The ridiculous sight she was witnessing flabbergasted Chyallyah. She said, "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SH*TTING ME!"

Heather looked up, a bit alarmed.

"Captain Havensworth, have you lost your sense of foresight?"

"What?"

"What the hell are you doing? You're lying in the grass, sweet-talking to a FORKING HORSE!"

Heather's shoulders shrugged in defiance. "YES! I agree!"

There was no way Chyallyah could resist giggles now. "I STARTED MY DAY OUT WITH BREAKFAST! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU HAVE?"

"I'm glad your injudicious application of humor works out for you, 2nd LT Chyallyah!" muttered Heather.

As Chyallyah stormed back to the Raven's side, a touch annoyed by Captain Havensworth's rude and sarcastic comment. She waved her unique finger in disagreement, then shouted, "THIS WORKS OUT MUCH BETTER FOR ME, CAPTAIN!"

"YA! NO PUN INTENDED, SKIPPY!" Roevie added, collapsing to her side in hysteria.

Heather retaliated, showing no military etiquette at all, saying, "BETTER LEARN SOME TEMPERANCE, LITTLE GIRL!"

2nd LT Chyallyah giggled out of spite.

"Having my title referred to as little-girl, Captain Havensworth, does not please me in the least!" insisted Roevie.

Heather looked up, "Then I suggest you grow up, Lieutenant!"

Roevie was hotter than a two-pecker goat after hearing that smart-ass comment, but she wisely kept her anger in check. Although that didn't last very long, nearly impossible was not possible for very long!

Roevie was inches from her senior field officer's face as if in a flash. "WHY YOU, IGNORANT...!" She puffed her little chest out!

"TALK'IN THAT CHIT, SHOULD I BE OFFERING YOU A BREATH MINT, OR A ROLL OF TOILET PAPER!"

Heather shook her head in shame. "THAT JOKE IS OLD AS DIRT! IF YOU REALLY WANT TO MAKE US LAUGH, TRY YOUR BEST AT LOOKING ATTRACTIVE AND WITNESS THE RESULT!" she bellowed! "LITTLE BIMBO!"

It wasn't long before the Raven came to her senses just as her two junior officers exchanged blows.

Heather screamed, "OWE!" as 1st LT Wade plowed into her mid-back, swinging like a crazed boxer down points in the twelfth round. "DANG, IT ROEVIE! STOP! GET GOT ME!"

Just then, the mighty voice of the Raven echoed as she shook away the cobwebs that clung desperately to her head. "1st LT WADE! STRIKE MY OFFICER! KISS YOUR COMMISSION GOOD BYE!"

"THIS ALL STARTED WITH HER!" Roevie exclaimed.

Alferiel snapped back at the ticked-off Roevie, "GROW UP!"

Roevie's mouth dropped open as time stopped. "I KNOW I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE!"

"What! A mental case?" teased Chyallyah. "I respectfully disagree, PRIVATE PYLE!"

A grimace spread across Roevie's face. "And I'm shutting you up now, Swath! Speak to the finger!"

end of act II



TO BE CONTINUED. This novel is currently under production in a live-action status. The work is written in a continuous prose format. Regularly occurring updates in process.