This is part one of five parts I am writing of a story, for a contest here on Gaia. Currently, I'm writing part three, and am more than halfway done. For the sake of the possiblity of people reading it, I am posting what I have so far here. Feel free to comment, as I enjoy reading then and receiving constructive criticism. 3nodding
A King of Lowly Stature
Part I: Shattered World
Time for this country is little. Few remember what it was like when the king still reined over this once-peaceful land. Now, it is den for the wolves, and we are the sheep that die with no pity, nor mercy to be spared. Why do men hunger for power so? Is there some darkness in each mean’s heart that whispers in their ear, “take no heed for the people, let this land be yours,” and they follow, blindly taking what they do not know, and fighting for a land that is not theirs? The fools may do so, but not I. I wish to punish them that would think of such an evil act, and attempt to revive this country. Oh, how I wish I were a noble of high status, rather than a peasant worker under an apprenticeship of a smithy.
The young man closed the leather-backed diary, and hid it away in his pocket. Such things now were expensive, especially the leather. He had saved for the book for a whole year, buying for himself only what needed to be bought, and nothing more. The diary was his only way to put his thoughts in order. To lose this book, he could only imagine that he would one day soon go mad.
“Vence, you’re needed by Mr. Smith,” a female voice called from behind. He recognized the voice only too well, which brought a smile on his face. Alysia; she was a kind-hearted girl he, to be honest, had a crush on for the past two years now. He had never been able to rack up the courage to actually ask her if she would meet him. He had been lately trying to think of a way he could somehow get a message through without having to actually ask; a letter, perhaps? But that was too risky. Knowing her family, her brother would find it instead, and cause trouble to no end. No, a letter was no good. Something else would need to be thought up.
“Alright, tell him I’ll be there in a second,” Vence replied, standing up from the barrel he had been sitting on. His clothes were what you would see on any Smith’s apprentice; thick work pants of heavy wool (which was very uncomfortable), leather work boots, a tight short sleeve shirt of cotton, and some leather gloves in his apron’s pocket. In his opinion, the clothes looked nice, but were highly uncomfortable. As for physical appearance, Vence was fairly tall for a fifteen-year-old, at five foot seven inches. His hair was long, down to his shoulders, but well kept, something not seen everyday. His blue eyes and dirty blond hair gave him several comments a day. What made him different was one feature. His ears were pointed ever slightly. A feature found in those you knew magic.
Vence did not know magic very well, however. He knew well enough what he could do, but that was all. Fire was an element of the world that he could control determinately, but with one disadvantage. He could not control the flow of magic at will. Because of so, he had learned an alternative method for self defense. Because he worked at a smith shop, he had easy access to learning how to use a weapon. He had taken to the use of a sword quite well, and because of his natural talent, was receiving private lessons, much thanks to Mr. Smith.
Vence gave a smile at Alysia as he walked by, heading over to the shop. No doubt he would have more strenuous work for him to do. Today would be different, though, to Vence’s unknown knowledge. The first person to see when he entered was Mr. Smith himself. He was what every person would imagine as a smith. Large, and well built, and was hidden by the layer of fat from his eating habits. A short mustache protruded from under his nose, and bushy eyebrows above his grey-green eyes.
“Ah, there you are, boy!” he exclaimed, being as boisterous and cheerful as always. “I have a special task for you today, and one that I will only entrust to you,” he explained, placing a large hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you, sir. So what’s the deal?” Vence asked, returning the enthusiasm.
“I have a special delivery for you to take, directly to the castle beyond yonder hill, you know its looks well,” He said, giving a wink. Everyone knew that castle. This was the capitol city, Sreael, so that castle was the very same which kings and lords and dukes of other lands were fighting for.
“Really, sir; whose gift am I delivering?” Vence asked, this time serious, and excited as well. It was not often one went to the castle, and those that went were usually rewarded handsomely.
“A sword of great worth that has taken me many weeks to complete. I suggest you do not touch it, for I know you enjoy anything that is an extension of your arm, boy,” Mr. Smith said, on a more serious note. “It is a gift for the stand-in of the throne, and to the king, when one is chosen for this land.” He added, becoming more welcoming yet again.
“It shall be given with great honor and humbleness to him, sir,” Vence said.
“Then put on your best attire and wait by the front. I will give you the blade shortly after.”
Vence did as was told and ran up to the second story, to the farthest room down the hall. His room was there, away from the rest of the family’s. Family… He knew the term well, and it’s meaning, but he had never truly had one. He had been raised on the streets by those kind enough to help him. As he reached an age enough for him to help himself, the aid ceased. He had stumbled in this shop during a rainy day asking for a job. Mr. Smith had given him one gladly, after helping him recover from his sickly appearance. That was two years ago. With that said, that was another reason he liked Alysia. They both had been taken in by Mr. Smith, adopted, you could say.
Now, he was happy, and might as well be part of the family that lived here. As quick as he could, he changed to some decent clothes. A leather vest, more fancy-looking wool pants, same boots, and a dark cotton long –sleeve shirt. He put on his leather gauntlets as well, just for show, and comfort. They were very comfortable on him, after all, but only those who actually knew how to use a weapon of some sort wore them. This was his training attire he was wearing.
He skipped down the steps of the stairs quickly, and stood by the front for only a minute before Mr. Smith came out, holding a sword, sheathed in its case, and wrapped in a clean white cloth.
“Keep this safe, Vence, and good l luck. I shall expect to see you by noon, ey?” he smiled.
“By noon it will be. I’ll see you soon. Tell Mrs. Smith I said “hi” if I’m not back before she returns.” And without further delay, Vence turned ‘round and strode forward at a steady pace up the streets toward the castle.
Vence enjoyed walking the streets of Sreael. Despite the current state of the country, Sreael was largely economically stable, so everything here continued peacefully. It also had a reputation for being one of the cleanliest of cities. It was highly beneficial that the city had a “plumbing system,” whatever that was. Basically, waste was dumped into a room, and whenever it rained, which was often times about twice a week, water would flood the room, and a drain at the bottom would open out into the river far down the ways. It was a fascinating thing, to Vence.
The castle, however, was beyond the city’s limits. Vence eventually left through the Northern gate, which lead directly to the castle. They were usually referred to as the castle gate, on that basis. Here, it was quiet and peaceful. Beautiful too, with the many trees and bushes, all trimmed and well maintained. You could call it a giant courtyard at the castle entrance. The path was cobblestone; the stones smoothened for easy walking, riding, or whatever.
The castle itself was quite large, and less grim than ones always seen. The stone was polished, and a lighter color than the usual dull grey. Windows were wider, and had glass incased in wooden frames, which were attached to the window’s stone frame. These could be opened and closed for convenience. That also made this castle an ideal place to live for any noble.
As he made his way up the stone steps to the large double doors, he suddenly sensed something; something very evil. The magic he had was warning him. He stopped in his tracks, frozen from the sudden force which the magic had pressed upon him.
The air whistled, and from that, came a crashing sound that was deafening. Vence whirled around, only to see meteors lit with black fire rain down on the city. Buildings burned, and screaming pierced the air. A closer whistle and Vence instinctively bolted away from the castle, only in time. Not a second later, a black meteor crashed into the castle doors, smashing it open and happily consumed everything inside in its way, as it rolled through the entrance hall. Again, the magic froze him in place. Evil stirred in the air, and fear pierced through him. What was this? Something stirred in his peripheral vision, and he glanced over, only to see what could easily be defined as the embodiment of evil.
Vence, panicking, forced himself to move; he had to run, where was no concern; away from here. He bolted through the ruined castle gates, dodging people and burning rocks as he made his way through the streets. Here, there was true chaos. More of those creatures were roaming about, and he saw one man in the clutches of one… or rather, half of a man. The other half was impaled in a scythe it was holding in one hand. Almost sick to his stomach, he tried to run even faster. This was a nightmare; this was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to live an uneventful life; get married, have kids and die. What were those things anyway? Something told him he already knew the answer, and he did, when he miraculously thought up the name from somewhere. A Nitemare: the physical embodiment of black magic, only surpassed by the angel of death. They will attack anything alive in order to feed of their life, and once that’s gone, the dead remains become the same.
s**t, the Smiths! Alysia! God, they better be safe, He shouted in his mind, as he pushed through the crowds toward the center of the city’s market. He breathed a sigh of relief when the two-story building came into view. He ran up and banged on the door once before bursting in. He knew where they would be. Vence charged through the house, into the kitchen, and rolled aside a carpet in the corner, revealing a hidden door. He knocked twice, paused, knocked four more times, and paused before giving a final knock. The password only but the most trusted people the Smith’s knew would know. A shoving sound and the door opened a notch, revealing Mr. Smiths horror-stricken face.
“Vence! You’re alive? Hurry, under here where y-“
“No one is safe in there; we must flee from this city, while it still stands! Get out and take nothing but spare clothes,” he quickly urged, before standing to grab a bag to shove the few rolls of bread and potatoes. He ran up the steps and into his room, grabbing a small knife, spare clothes, and the little gold he had, tying the pouch to his belt. He could hear, amidst the chaos outside, the others already grabbing what they needed as he darted down the hall and jumped half the flight of stairs. At the same moment, a grotesque arm smashed through a window, and he saw, though the gap in the wall, the gaping blackness that was the face of a Nitemare. Fear pierced through him again, leaving him paralyzed. From the nothingness where a face should have been, a hoarse cackle could be heard, sending shivers down his spine. His mind told him to move, to run, but his body would not respond. In a swift movement, the creature drifted into the room, and a scythe materialized out of thin air into its hands. In that instant, something sparked in Vence. Snarling, he unwrapped the cloth from around the blade, still in his hand, and drew the sword from its sheath. Instantly, the fear, the clouded chaos from his mind, disappeared, and was replaced by calm.
The monster cocked its head to the side, evaluating the situation, and laughed a second later. Vence, making this his chance, dashed forward, and swung the blade from left to right. The air whistled as the blade cut through it, and a second later, he was on the other side of the creature. It was now silent. A fizzing noise could be heard behind him. Looking back, the monster lay on the ground, torn right in two; both pieces were dissolving, fading away from reality. That was when the other three came down the stairs and saw the sight. The stared in awed horror at the monster before them, as it slowly ceased to exist. Mr. Smith looked at Vence.
“y-you did this? How did you-“his voce faded as he saw the blade in Vence’s hands.
“I could not deliver it as you requested. I’m sorry,” Vence explained, bowing his head. A crash outside, and more screaming, reminded him of the situation.
“We mustn’t dawdle, hurry and follow me!” Vence half-shouted, as a nearer explosion erupted. Vence bolted out the door, checking to see if the coast was clear. Alysia emerged next. No one would come out next.
A whistling sound, very loud, and a shadow from above confirmed Vence’s worst fear. Before he could do anything, he watched as Mr. and Mrs. Smith made their way to the door, before they disappeared from sight as the black-flamed boulder crashed through the building. Beside him, He could hear Alysia scream. She had seen as well. Vence could only stare in shock, denying reality.
Several minutes later, Vence blinked, his mind returning to reality. They needed to get out, now. Alysia was on her knees, sobbing into her hands. She was more devastated then he was. The city gates were not far; A few blocks and they were safe. Maybe.
Vence sheathed the sword in his hand, now strapping the sword belt to his person, and wondering. What was he to say to her? They needed to get out, and fast, but he knew her too well; she was stubborn, and wouldn’t leave willingly. So, he did the only thing he could really do. He kneeled down beside her, hoping to be a comfort as he placed an arm around her shoulders.
 b10n1cl3k1n6 · Fri Jun 19, 2009 @ 06:15pm · 0 Comments |
