She ran, uncaring how far, or how fast, or even where she was going. She wished she were never born. Her family couldn’t catch her; it would mean the end of her life. She would lay in tyranny forever, oppressed, drugged, and unhappy through undeath. She sped up as she raced the roads, part of her hoping that when she rounded the corner, she would be hit by a bus, and part of her praying silently that she would get out alive, or at least to a better place.
She lost track of time quickly now that she was away from her clocks. Her parents had taken away her watch when she tried to strangle herself with it, and beat her because it hadn’t managed to end her pathetic life. And so she ran, changing directions when she saw bright lights in the distance that could have been her father’s car, and diving into bushes whenever a car closed in on her.
Her vision was blurry from running too quickly. She couldn’t see where she was going, and tripped over a stone on the ground, landing on grass. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears; each beat sounding as if a twig had snapped. But as she turned sharply this way and that in an effort to find her father, or her mother, in the darkened bed of trees she now laid in, she could not see them. Pushing herself off the ground, she stood painfully on her feet.
But finally, she stood fully alone. Breathing a sigh of relief, her first in months, she gazed skyward in thanks. The quiet, soothing calls of nature entranced her for the first truly silent moment she had ever had. Birds swooped overhead beneath the starry skies far beyond.
Her legs collapsed beneath her once again as a wave of beauty swept through her from the forest around her. Her breathing slowed, as she lay entranced on the damp grass, watching the skies as Aurora Borealis began to form.
Blue light illuminated her surroundings, giving her a sense of purity and hope. Hope that her life would be better, and her troubles over. She could just picture a normal, peaceful life:
She came home wearing her school uniform for the last day of the year. She was glad school was finally out. Her father greeted her upon her arrival, welcoming her back with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Dinner was being prepared, and it smelled wonderful.
She bounded quickly up the stairs to change into more suitable clothes for such an occasion: a rainbow colored T-shirt and her pink-striped pajamas. She pulled the tie out of her ashen hair, letting it fall loose over her shoulders.
She stepped onto her balcony to enjoy the cool, winter’s breeze on her tanned skin. The sun hung over the horizon, its light fading into the dark of eve. Her mother called her down for dinner as the last shred of the suns rays disappeared beyond the mountains.
Stepping down for dinner, she sighed deeply. A huge weight was off her shoulder; she had passed the semester, and would not even have to think about work again for six whole months!
She sat down for dinner, where her mother was serving sushi, her favorite food. They ate, and talked, and before long, hours had passed, and it was time for her to sleep. Her mother walked her to her room, and wished her goodnight, with a final kiss and loving hug.
Oh, how she wished her dreams were true. Alas, it was not to be. She had run away, and her father would not let her return; not that she wanted to.
Her father had handpicked all of her friends, meaning none would help her in her time of need. There was no place to go.
She had nothing to live for anymore. There was no love in her life, only despair and agony that she had long since learned to contain. But in the peaceful meadow, she could hold it no longer.
She wept, each tear bringing with it memories of times when her father had beaten her, and her mother had done nothing, or when he beat her mother, and she was too cowardly to stop it. Her stomach squirmed, forcing her upright in pain. She heaved on the grass to her side, letting up what little was left of her dinner from the night before. Her hunger pained her; she had not eaten a decent meal in more than a day.
She stood up painfully, glancing at the sky one last time before she sauntered away from the forestry, and towards the small town beyond. If her father were looking for her at all, he would have already given up and gone home. Her father hated to waste time on her behalf.
For a long time, she simply walked, not bothering to pay attention to where she was going. She passed many restaurants, but after checking her pockets for spare coins, she would sigh, and walk on, stomach growling.
People glared at her as she walked past them in the streets, showering her with looks that plainly said, “Get this pile of dung away from me.” She ignored them as best she could, but their hate-filled eyes stung her as sharply as her father’s own looks had, and that was a pain she could not ignore.
She began to despair, thinking she would never find food, and be forced to either go home to her father, or die. She could never go back, but could she end her life of her own volition?
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Naruen, Chapter 3
((This one's a short chapter.. Be warned!))
When she awoke, she lay before the pedestal that held the ring, with the statues still embracing behind it. The mist had all but gone, and her vision was normal once again. All forms of pain had left her, even the ones she inflicted upon herself. Her new wounds were now old ones, healed and ready for more. She stood up, staggering. Her body had not moved for some time.
Making one last symbolic kiss, she reached for the ring, and took it in her hands. She examined it, eager to see the words she already knew were there: the words told in legends, and myths.
Inne Gold We Tryst – The ancient text upon which nations fueled their hatred for pirates, thinking them only petty thieves. It was the text upon which the Vampyr, whom her own ship was named after, thrived for so many generations. But it was more, oh so much more.
Many thousands of years previous, it was the last defense, the ring that stopped the wars between man and beast. Love, it was to the Vampyr, and brought on an end to their feeding upon human blood. A symbol of power to the world, so powerful it could end the world, or save it. And it lay still in her mortal hand.
Her purpose now had been set. She would delve into the world of the eternally damned, and bring back with her the one man she truly cared for. Escaping the pits would not be the difficult part of returning; the difficult part would be finding a way to shore. Her crew had undoubtedly already pronounced her dead.
Naruen returned to the surface in much the same way as she came, though this time, she could see by the light of the ring she now wore on her left hand.
It was twilight, the time of silence within the night. Pirates worshipped this time of meditation, because it was the eve before battle, the great silence that lay prelude to the war that raged for many centuries, and would continue to rage for many more. It was the silence between day and night, and their eternal conflict.
She lay still for a moment, gazing at the stars, and wondering if they would still be there when she entered the Netherworld. After all, why would such people, who were eternally damned for holding so tightly to their spirit that they could not embrace the full wonder of the seas be shown the light by which they were never guided in their lives?
She rose once more as the sun began to rise, and set forth across the island, in search of a way to the mainland. As she waved through the trees, she once again felt the urge to dance, and to sing, though this time noticeably less potent an urge.
Spinning clumsily about, she began to wonder if memories were the true cause of what had befallen her, or if it was simply an illusion. But the more she thought about it, the more entranced by her surroundings she became.
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
When she awoke, she lay before the pedestal that held the ring, with the statues still embracing behind it. The mist had all but gone, and her vision was normal once again. All forms of pain had left her, even the ones she inflicted upon herself. Her new wounds were now old ones, healed and ready for more. She stood up, staggering. Her body had not moved for some time.
Making one last symbolic kiss, she reached for the ring, and took it in her hands. She examined it, eager to see the words she already knew were there: the words told in legends, and myths.
Inne Gold We Tryst – The ancient text upon which nations fueled their hatred for pirates, thinking them only petty thieves. It was the text upon which the Vampyr, whom her own ship was named after, thrived for so many generations. But it was more, oh so much more.
Many thousands of years previous, it was the last defense, the ring that stopped the wars between man and beast. Love, it was to the Vampyr, and brought on an end to their feeding upon human blood. A symbol of power to the world, so powerful it could end the world, or save it. And it lay still in her mortal hand.
Her purpose now had been set. She would delve into the world of the eternally damned, and bring back with her the one man she truly cared for. Escaping the pits would not be the difficult part of returning; the difficult part would be finding a way to shore. Her crew had undoubtedly already pronounced her dead.
Naruen returned to the surface in much the same way as she came, though this time, she could see by the light of the ring she now wore on her left hand.
It was twilight, the time of silence within the night. Pirates worshipped this time of meditation, because it was the eve before battle, the great silence that lay prelude to the war that raged for many centuries, and would continue to rage for many more. It was the silence between day and night, and their eternal conflict.
She lay still for a moment, gazing at the stars, and wondering if they would still be there when she entered the Netherworld. After all, why would such people, who were eternally damned for holding so tightly to their spirit that they could not embrace the full wonder of the seas be shown the light by which they were never guided in their lives?
She rose once more as the sun began to rise, and set forth across the island, in search of a way to the mainland. As she waved through the trees, she once again felt the urge to dance, and to sing, though this time noticeably less potent an urge.
Spinning clumsily about, she began to wonder if memories were the true cause of what had befallen her, or if it was simply an illusion. But the more she thought about it, the more entranced by her surroundings she became.
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
Naruen, Chapter 2
Minutes passed before she landed solidly on the ground far below, crushing the bones of others who had walked the same path before her. Brushing the dust off her leather vest, she set herself to walking forwards, deep into the belly of the island. Her vision failing from the darkness, she changed her hum slightly, from a nearly silent murmur to a loud, blaring, noise. She listened intently, gradually standing to full height. With her eyes closed, she walked for several steps, stopped, and listened more.
Her heart pounded heavily as she sidestepped her way over slippery rocks, and ducked beneath stalactites, praying that her voice would not fail her for even a moment. Hearing something in the distance, deeper in the cave, she stopped humming, and began to twitch her fingers to what the tune would sound like.
She squatted down, close enough to the rock below her to feel them brushing against her thighs, and readied three throwing daggers: two from her collection of decaying blades, and one of her good ones. She threw one several feet away from where she heard the movement, and spoke softly, even calmly, “Who’s there?”
A shuffle of feet answered her at almost the same time as she quietly repositioned herself on another nearby rock. She threw another blade, this time to the right of the general area. “Who are you?” she spoke, this time with more fear showing in her voice.
Another shuffle came, with no answer. The creature had thrown away his warnings, and stepped into her trap. She threw her third blade, deep into the heart of the being before her. Frowning slightly, she drew back to full height, and stepped forward to the body through her sense of hearing.
The one problem with being a pirate, at least for her, was that she kept having to kill people, which she loathed with a passion. She drew up close to he body, and rolled it over. In a faint light, she noticed it was a man. Drawing the blade from the man’s body, she kissed the tips of her fingers, and placed them to the wound.
“This man has not wronged me,” she spoke pleadingly with the gods. With the blood upon her fingertips, she drew a circle on the man’s forehead, and a cross over his chest, extending from right shoulder to left leg, and vise versa. Kissing the center of his forehead, the middle of the circle, she whispered softly to the body, “May you be reborn anew, at peace.”
Rising up from the man, she now noticed where the glow had come from: a large, golden door. The door of her dreams.
Through the door she went, racing with the mere moments of time she still had left. There lay a small, golden ring beneath a statue of the pirate god and goddess as they embraced each other, with their arms extended towards it.
She kneeled before the statues, and once more kissed her fingers, this time before touching them to her own heart, in a show of fealty to the god and goddess. Her vision faded into nothingness as a swirl of silvery mist surrounded her.
Awaken, Naruen, daughter of mine. Tell us, why do you seek the sacred ring of Alystra? The voice of a woman filled her thoughts, and echoed inside her head.
Rising from a deep slumber, Naruen blinked away the dust that covered her eyes, whereupon she saw that she lay within the Chamber of Pirate Lords, before Alan and Jaina themselves. Standing to her full height, she was still only a doll to them, but she spoke anyway, her voice not showing even a speck of anxiety. “I seek Alystra’s ring to gain entry to the Netherworld, to bring back the man who died to save my life many years ago.”
How do we know you shall honor that which you have spoken, and not seek to dominate the world? Will you repeat the Pirate’s Code of Honor for us? Came the voice of Alan, deep, and without emotion.
“I shall not repeat the Code, for to do so is dishonor within the Code itself!”
You seek our permission granted so you may perform with the ring, as you will? Came the soft female voice once more, as if she were a baby to be caressed, and mothered.
“I seek not your permission to take the ring for myself, but rather the gift of the ring to do with as I spoke.”
And how can we trust you, daughter of the seas, when you are a Pirate, made in our own images to lie, to cheat, and to steal? How can we know that you are even capable of controlling the ring, and not the opposite?
Naruen, whose anger never moved her, now drew her twin scimitars, and rammed one through the man-god’s heart, and one through her own. Gritting her teeth, she spoke one final time to Jaina before falling to the floor. “As a blade fells an enemy, so, too, does it fell its holder. To live as all actions return to one’s self; this is the Pirate way.”
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
Her heart pounded heavily as she sidestepped her way over slippery rocks, and ducked beneath stalactites, praying that her voice would not fail her for even a moment. Hearing something in the distance, deeper in the cave, she stopped humming, and began to twitch her fingers to what the tune would sound like.
She squatted down, close enough to the rock below her to feel them brushing against her thighs, and readied three throwing daggers: two from her collection of decaying blades, and one of her good ones. She threw one several feet away from where she heard the movement, and spoke softly, even calmly, “Who’s there?”
A shuffle of feet answered her at almost the same time as she quietly repositioned herself on another nearby rock. She threw another blade, this time to the right of the general area. “Who are you?” she spoke, this time with more fear showing in her voice.
Another shuffle came, with no answer. The creature had thrown away his warnings, and stepped into her trap. She threw her third blade, deep into the heart of the being before her. Frowning slightly, she drew back to full height, and stepped forward to the body through her sense of hearing.
The one problem with being a pirate, at least for her, was that she kept having to kill people, which she loathed with a passion. She drew up close to he body, and rolled it over. In a faint light, she noticed it was a man. Drawing the blade from the man’s body, she kissed the tips of her fingers, and placed them to the wound.
“This man has not wronged me,” she spoke pleadingly with the gods. With the blood upon her fingertips, she drew a circle on the man’s forehead, and a cross over his chest, extending from right shoulder to left leg, and vise versa. Kissing the center of his forehead, the middle of the circle, she whispered softly to the body, “May you be reborn anew, at peace.”
Rising up from the man, she now noticed where the glow had come from: a large, golden door. The door of her dreams.
Through the door she went, racing with the mere moments of time she still had left. There lay a small, golden ring beneath a statue of the pirate god and goddess as they embraced each other, with their arms extended towards it.
She kneeled before the statues, and once more kissed her fingers, this time before touching them to her own heart, in a show of fealty to the god and goddess. Her vision faded into nothingness as a swirl of silvery mist surrounded her.
Awaken, Naruen, daughter of mine. Tell us, why do you seek the sacred ring of Alystra? The voice of a woman filled her thoughts, and echoed inside her head.
Rising from a deep slumber, Naruen blinked away the dust that covered her eyes, whereupon she saw that she lay within the Chamber of Pirate Lords, before Alan and Jaina themselves. Standing to her full height, she was still only a doll to them, but she spoke anyway, her voice not showing even a speck of anxiety. “I seek Alystra’s ring to gain entry to the Netherworld, to bring back the man who died to save my life many years ago.”
How do we know you shall honor that which you have spoken, and not seek to dominate the world? Will you repeat the Pirate’s Code of Honor for us? Came the voice of Alan, deep, and without emotion.
“I shall not repeat the Code, for to do so is dishonor within the Code itself!”
You seek our permission granted so you may perform with the ring, as you will? Came the soft female voice once more, as if she were a baby to be caressed, and mothered.
“I seek not your permission to take the ring for myself, but rather the gift of the ring to do with as I spoke.”
And how can we trust you, daughter of the seas, when you are a Pirate, made in our own images to lie, to cheat, and to steal? How can we know that you are even capable of controlling the ring, and not the opposite?
Naruen, whose anger never moved her, now drew her twin scimitars, and rammed one through the man-god’s heart, and one through her own. Gritting her teeth, she spoke one final time to Jaina before falling to the floor. “As a blade fells an enemy, so, too, does it fell its holder. To live as all actions return to one’s self; this is the Pirate way.”
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
Naruen, Chapter 1
It was a hot afternoon on the Grand Ocean, and the deck men were all slumping against the sides of Vampyren, scrambling for what little shade they could find as the ship changed directions. It was heading for shore, but upon orders from the Captain, it was headed to an island in the middle of nowhere.
The history of Vampyren was a peculiar one. It was rumored to have been the ship of the first of the Vampyr, but since then, no vampires had ever commanded it, or worked on it. Throughout history, its name was recorded in multiple places at once, as a ghost ship, a carrier of The Gate of Hell, and as a simple pirate ship; it was none of these.
These days, it was a pirate ship, yes, but it was also the only ship to be commanded by a girl, and the strongest ship on the seas. The commander, Naruen, was a young girl of seven when she first boarded the ship as its Captain. Now, Naruen was fifteen, and beautiful.
As she stepped out of the Captain’s Quarters, Naruen’s auburn hair blew in the wind, revealing a scar across her neck, where a sword that would have killed her grazed her. A man had died to save her life, throwing himself into the blade just as it began to cut her skin. She wore a skull-and-crossbones earring on that side – the Pirate code for rebirth and salvation. Her normally blue eyes turned a light shade of pink in the sunlight, when reflected off of the ocean.
She did not even have to look around her ship to know that the crew had been slacking off; like all good Captains, she had a connection to her ship. When a crewmember was slacking off, she knew it. No matter where she was on Vampyren.
Upon seeing her, they all went back to their posts, and began to work once more. It wasn’t that she was a cruel Captain; she just set straight all of the crew whenever one didn’t work.
Most of the crew was already sweating after hearing where they were headed; they were afraid she was just going to leave them stranded there if they didn’t work at par. Having no intention of doing so, but wanting them to work, she simply left them to believe it.
The day faded fast as she watched her crew work; often, she even helped them. Vampyren reached the island as the sun set.
“Drop Anchor!” she shouted loudly enough to be heard across Vampyren, but no louder. “Lower the rafts!” she yelled once more, as she jumped over the side of the boat into a small raft. She steadied it, and then motioned her Second to follow her into the tiny wooden raft before she dropped it into the calm sea below. She had left her First in charge of the ship while she was gone.
She and her Second rowed to shore, and buried the raft in the sand. She drew her twin scimitars, and listening to the island’s call for a moment before putting them back into her scabbards, and tossing them onto the sand pile where they had buried the raft. Her Second proceeded to un-strap his weapons, and drop them in the new pile.
Taking off at a brisk walk, she began to hum The Call to Nature – a song used in ancient battles to time attacks. Her Second picked up the song, and walked off in another direction.
Remembering her childhood and all the fun she had in a forest she once visited, she started to glide between trees, spinning and dancing to the tune she hummed. Minutes passed, and still no vision had come to her of where she was supposed to be. The vision that she needed to visit this island had been the first in years. Still, with no vision, she could do nothing but continue to dance, and dance, she did.
And then she saw something in the trees around which she danced. Leaping up to it, she noticed it was a wire of a sort. She tugged on it, and the land around the tree fell into a dark pit.
By the tune she sung at that moment, she had two hours before her Second would go back to the ship, and pronounce her lost. She flipped down into the darkened pit hole.
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
The history of Vampyren was a peculiar one. It was rumored to have been the ship of the first of the Vampyr, but since then, no vampires had ever commanded it, or worked on it. Throughout history, its name was recorded in multiple places at once, as a ghost ship, a carrier of The Gate of Hell, and as a simple pirate ship; it was none of these.
These days, it was a pirate ship, yes, but it was also the only ship to be commanded by a girl, and the strongest ship on the seas. The commander, Naruen, was a young girl of seven when she first boarded the ship as its Captain. Now, Naruen was fifteen, and beautiful.
As she stepped out of the Captain’s Quarters, Naruen’s auburn hair blew in the wind, revealing a scar across her neck, where a sword that would have killed her grazed her. A man had died to save her life, throwing himself into the blade just as it began to cut her skin. She wore a skull-and-crossbones earring on that side – the Pirate code for rebirth and salvation. Her normally blue eyes turned a light shade of pink in the sunlight, when reflected off of the ocean.
She did not even have to look around her ship to know that the crew had been slacking off; like all good Captains, she had a connection to her ship. When a crewmember was slacking off, she knew it. No matter where she was on Vampyren.
Upon seeing her, they all went back to their posts, and began to work once more. It wasn’t that she was a cruel Captain; she just set straight all of the crew whenever one didn’t work.
Most of the crew was already sweating after hearing where they were headed; they were afraid she was just going to leave them stranded there if they didn’t work at par. Having no intention of doing so, but wanting them to work, she simply left them to believe it.
The day faded fast as she watched her crew work; often, she even helped them. Vampyren reached the island as the sun set.
“Drop Anchor!” she shouted loudly enough to be heard across Vampyren, but no louder. “Lower the rafts!” she yelled once more, as she jumped over the side of the boat into a small raft. She steadied it, and then motioned her Second to follow her into the tiny wooden raft before she dropped it into the calm sea below. She had left her First in charge of the ship while she was gone.
She and her Second rowed to shore, and buried the raft in the sand. She drew her twin scimitars, and listening to the island’s call for a moment before putting them back into her scabbards, and tossing them onto the sand pile where they had buried the raft. Her Second proceeded to un-strap his weapons, and drop them in the new pile.
Taking off at a brisk walk, she began to hum The Call to Nature – a song used in ancient battles to time attacks. Her Second picked up the song, and walked off in another direction.
Remembering her childhood and all the fun she had in a forest she once visited, she started to glide between trees, spinning and dancing to the tune she hummed. Minutes passed, and still no vision had come to her of where she was supposed to be. The vision that she needed to visit this island had been the first in years. Still, with no vision, she could do nothing but continue to dance, and dance, she did.
And then she saw something in the trees around which she danced. Leaping up to it, she noticed it was a wire of a sort. She tugged on it, and the land around the tree fell into a dark pit.
By the tune she sung at that moment, she had two hours before her Second would go back to the ship, and pronounce her lost. She flipped down into the darkened pit hole.
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
Jai'alan
It was the seventeenth day of the nineteenth month, and the High Council was in session. They met twice a month, on fixed days, and all of the noblemen’s sons spent the day inside, pondering the actions of the High Council. Each of them sought his own way to spy on the adults. None ever succeeded.
It was on this day that the youngest daughter of the Jae’el family aged her fourteenth year. This meant she would become a woman, and would be forced to marry by status, and not by love. She felt this was not how it was supposed to be done, and so she sought a way to enter the Council, to speak before them.
She had trained herself secretly in the arts of a thief since she was six, and the art of Blademastery since she was nine. If anyone could enter the Council without permission, it was she.
She looked into her mirror, and saw her reflection. Her eyes were a light shade of blue, her hair black and wavy. She was considered beautiful among the nobles, meaning the suitors would arrive rather quickly, and each would request an audience with her.
She donned her black robe, and pulled the hood above her head, to cover all traces of her appearance; her robe had daggers and lockpicks hidden throughout. She picked up the sword she had trained with for years; it had been used for many years, yes, but she cared for it well. She attached the belt and scabbard to her robe, around her waist.
Walking over to her window, she grimly recalled the night when her mother had seen her climbing out of it; her mother had bars placed over it. Luckily for her, she knew the blacksmith who fitted it, and requested he build a latch. Opening the window, she reached out, and flipped down the latch; it sprung open, without a sound. She climbed out, and closed it again before heading down to the ground, some three stories below.
It was winter here, and the air around her was well below freezing. It was a good thing she put on her robe; it was quite thick, and prevented the cold from getting to her. She neared the ground, and, noticing no guards were present, dropped down the remaining half-story. Landing perfectly, she walked over to the entrance to the Council’s hall. She had also practiced walking like a boy, and acting like one, knowing it would come in handy eventually.
The door was of ancient woodwork; it was old, yes, but still in good condition. She knocked twice, and a hatch slid open. A man’s eyes were on the other side.
“Who goes thar?” the man asked.
“My name is not of your concern. I will give it when I speak before the Council, as is my right as a man of another land.” She had studied the laws of the country, as all nobles were required to. Her trick worked; the man opened the door, and let her in.
Around the room sat forty-nine people. Each wore formal clothes, as if in a contest for most formality. All of them except the lead councilman smiled at her, and bid her welcome.
“Show yourself, to prove you are a man,” stated the leader; evidently, he had not fallen for her trick.
“Tell me, do you ask all newcomers to this land to stand naked in front of many men who may or may not have a personal liking for other men? That must be why people are leaving. I ask for a Trial by Arms to prove my manhood,” she replied coolly; she was ready for this.
“Very well. Who will face this outsider?” he asked of the others; not a one raised his hand. He walked grumpily over to the weapons rack in the back of the room, and drew himself a blade.
She drew her own blade, without pause, and without faking uselessness. They circled each other for a moment, looking for weaknesses and openings. She found one, and laughed, without attacking. The foolish man thought she had cracked, and attacked, arcing his blade down at her. She blocked and shoved him backwards by leaning forcefully on her blade.
He came at her again, this time more skillfully. She parried his undercut, and knocked his blade flying with the flick of her wrist. She put her sword back in its scabbard; it was dishonorful to fight an unarmed opponent.
Once again, he came at her, his face red with rage. “I’m going to kill you!” he shouted. She knocked his hand away from her neck, not pausing before she delivered a blow to his neck that would leave him unconscious for weeks to come.
“Anyone else?” She smiled to herself. She knew none would come forth to face her. When none did, she stated clearly, “Good.
“My name is Jai’alan, of the Ulan clan. I have come before your Council to state that you need to keep your women here. One woman for every three I have counted here makes her way to my village to seek shelter. Each tells me of the horrors of forced marriages to people they hate. Tell me, why do you persist?”
One brave man replied. One of forty-eight. “They do not love each other when they are married, but they gradually begin to love each other afterwards. You of all people should know that young ladies don’t know what they want!” She laughed at him.
“Each of the young ladies that ran away has come across a man they truly love, and have married them, with or without their parents’ consent! In my eyes, and the eyes of my clan, these girls should have a say in which man they are to marry. Of course, this rides upon you having one last chance. Solve the problem, and there will be no war. Continue to force women to marry for status, and if even one more runs away to my village, there will be war, and THEN we shall impose the very same rule once your barbaric village is under our control.” Once again, she smiled to herself; she knew how to make men do things.
“Do you understand me?” she asked, calmly. Not a one moved an inch. “I said, ‘Do. You. Understand. Me?’”
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
It was on this day that the youngest daughter of the Jae’el family aged her fourteenth year. This meant she would become a woman, and would be forced to marry by status, and not by love. She felt this was not how it was supposed to be done, and so she sought a way to enter the Council, to speak before them.
She had trained herself secretly in the arts of a thief since she was six, and the art of Blademastery since she was nine. If anyone could enter the Council without permission, it was she.
She looked into her mirror, and saw her reflection. Her eyes were a light shade of blue, her hair black and wavy. She was considered beautiful among the nobles, meaning the suitors would arrive rather quickly, and each would request an audience with her.
She donned her black robe, and pulled the hood above her head, to cover all traces of her appearance; her robe had daggers and lockpicks hidden throughout. She picked up the sword she had trained with for years; it had been used for many years, yes, but she cared for it well. She attached the belt and scabbard to her robe, around her waist.
Walking over to her window, she grimly recalled the night when her mother had seen her climbing out of it; her mother had bars placed over it. Luckily for her, she knew the blacksmith who fitted it, and requested he build a latch. Opening the window, she reached out, and flipped down the latch; it sprung open, without a sound. She climbed out, and closed it again before heading down to the ground, some three stories below.
It was winter here, and the air around her was well below freezing. It was a good thing she put on her robe; it was quite thick, and prevented the cold from getting to her. She neared the ground, and, noticing no guards were present, dropped down the remaining half-story. Landing perfectly, she walked over to the entrance to the Council’s hall. She had also practiced walking like a boy, and acting like one, knowing it would come in handy eventually.
The door was of ancient woodwork; it was old, yes, but still in good condition. She knocked twice, and a hatch slid open. A man’s eyes were on the other side.
“Who goes thar?” the man asked.
“My name is not of your concern. I will give it when I speak before the Council, as is my right as a man of another land.” She had studied the laws of the country, as all nobles were required to. Her trick worked; the man opened the door, and let her in.
Around the room sat forty-nine people. Each wore formal clothes, as if in a contest for most formality. All of them except the lead councilman smiled at her, and bid her welcome.
“Show yourself, to prove you are a man,” stated the leader; evidently, he had not fallen for her trick.
“Tell me, do you ask all newcomers to this land to stand naked in front of many men who may or may not have a personal liking for other men? That must be why people are leaving. I ask for a Trial by Arms to prove my manhood,” she replied coolly; she was ready for this.
“Very well. Who will face this outsider?” he asked of the others; not a one raised his hand. He walked grumpily over to the weapons rack in the back of the room, and drew himself a blade.
She drew her own blade, without pause, and without faking uselessness. They circled each other for a moment, looking for weaknesses and openings. She found one, and laughed, without attacking. The foolish man thought she had cracked, and attacked, arcing his blade down at her. She blocked and shoved him backwards by leaning forcefully on her blade.
He came at her again, this time more skillfully. She parried his undercut, and knocked his blade flying with the flick of her wrist. She put her sword back in its scabbard; it was dishonorful to fight an unarmed opponent.
Once again, he came at her, his face red with rage. “I’m going to kill you!” he shouted. She knocked his hand away from her neck, not pausing before she delivered a blow to his neck that would leave him unconscious for weeks to come.
“Anyone else?” She smiled to herself. She knew none would come forth to face her. When none did, she stated clearly, “Good.
“My name is Jai’alan, of the Ulan clan. I have come before your Council to state that you need to keep your women here. One woman for every three I have counted here makes her way to my village to seek shelter. Each tells me of the horrors of forced marriages to people they hate. Tell me, why do you persist?”
One brave man replied. One of forty-eight. “They do not love each other when they are married, but they gradually begin to love each other afterwards. You of all people should know that young ladies don’t know what they want!” She laughed at him.
“Each of the young ladies that ran away has come across a man they truly love, and have married them, with or without their parents’ consent! In my eyes, and the eyes of my clan, these girls should have a say in which man they are to marry. Of course, this rides upon you having one last chance. Solve the problem, and there will be no war. Continue to force women to marry for status, and if even one more runs away to my village, there will be war, and THEN we shall impose the very same rule once your barbaric village is under our control.” Once again, she smiled to herself; she knew how to make men do things.
“Do you understand me?” she asked, calmly. Not a one moved an inch. “I said, ‘Do. You. Understand. Me?’”
I do so hope you've enjoyed this… Please let me know, but use insightful responses! I'm not a big fan of the generic "I love/hate this" replies! Let me know what about it is good or bad!
kthxbai! <3
White Rose
It had been two months since his injury, and the visions weren’t fading away, as his shrink had promised him. They were getting worse.
The world had turned a fiery shade of red earlier that day, in English class. To the amusement of his classmates, he had stood up and shouted, “Fire!” A panic, of course, was the result. And that was how he found himself in the interrogation room of the local police station, feigning listening to one very amused officer of the law. His parents sat on either side of him, occasionally nudging him to pay attention to the nice officer whose job it was to discuss options with the first timers and their parents.
The officer slammed his fist on the table, instantly bringing him back to the present. Around him, expectant stares awaited him in the midst of the flames. His answer was a simple one, and one he had said many times through the lecture.
“No, I won’t do it again.”
But the looks did not let up just yet.
“It was wrong of me to do it, and I’m sorry. I know better now, and won’t do it again.”
They bought it, and resumed their conversation about how best to fix his behavior. He blocked them out.
But it didn’t matter, really. He’d be expecting more hallucinations, and would not let them scare him to wits’ end again. This whole business would mean seeing the shrink again.
He laughed to himself. A child with a monocle and a toy would be a better shrink than Doctor Damon, as his patients called him for his resemblance to a demon. All he did was sit in his chair, asking pointless questions and then denying the legitimacy of the answers given to him.
“It’s all in your head,” he would say, as if that explained it perfectly. Well, maybe it was all in his head, but that didn’t mean they weren't real.
And the promise he would get better with a few drugs in his system? All they did was make him too tired to work during class. He still had his visions, and they were getting worse!
The sound of chairs being pushed back meant he was free to leave. He stood up, too, and muttered a general thanks to the officer. He would have used the man’s name, but he had forgotten it before it had even reached his ears, and it had not been mentioned again.
He followed his parents out of the station, and to the car. He stole a glance at the sun; likely, it was to be his last.
A bright meadow, skipping through dewy grass. A new day. Happy, content, more than ever before. A break from endless misery and reality. Hopeful green.
But the daydreams would never be true.
I think this is one of the weirdest of stories I've started writing… I hope that you thought the writing was good. But if you don't understand it, don't worry… You really shouldn't just yet, since this is only a prologue/chapter 1. Anyway, some insightful responses would be nice! Please let me know what about it you think is good or bad… please don't just say "it's awful!"
kthxbai! <3
Demetri
In the beginning, there was only one world. There was nothing else; there were no other worlds, or dimensions, universes, or realms. On this world, humans simply appeared. For what purpose, or what reason, nobody knew. By the power of the gods, some thought. But this is a tale better told at another time.
Our tale begins with a child coming of age. A child whose name was best spoken then, and now forgotten; his name was Demetri.
It is the sixteenth day of my birth; I am a man, now, thought Demetri as he strode through the graveled streets of Valanosth, his hometown. He crossed an old dirt road to reach the local tavern – a place he had been visiting, illegally or not, for quite some time. He didn’t plan on drinking until he passed out tonight, as he often did; he intended to experience manhood drunk, but awake, and so he kept some of his better belongings with him, knowing he could best any man in a fight.
He reached for the swinging doors, praying silently that there was a lush maiden awaiting him inside. Opening them, he noticed with much remorse that there was no maiden; his prayers had gone unnoticed. Sighing rather loudly, he sat in his usual spot at the bar. Flicking his fingers, he motioned for the bartender to give him his usual drink. The bartender obliged.
He sat there, motionlessly, except to take a swig of his ale every half-minute or so, or to motion for another. Little excitement went on while he sat there; he nearly passed out from boredom.
And then the maiden he wished for entered. She stood in front of the swinging doors, beautiful and lush, seemingly taking everything in as she gazed around the room. Her golden eyes flicked past him briefly, and then came back to him. She walked towards him, and towards the bar. Sitting down next to Demetri, she smiled at the bartender, as she motioned Demetri closer.
The only thing he could think of to do was to follow her wishes. He leaned forward, closer to her.
“I hear you’re a man now, Demetri, my love. Would you like to see a few things?” she whispered in his ear, seemingly eager. He nodded quickly; his luck has finally had a turn for the better after all!
Tossing his coin on the table, he walked out on her insistence, arm in arm with her. It was raining now. She led him around the corner of the bar, to a dark alleyway. He didn’t care; the prettiest woman in the world was in his arms.
“Let’s do it right here,” she said, and ripped off her shirt, exposing a bare, well-rounded bosom. Hastily, he did the same. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him in for a kiss. He leaned forward, closing his eyes, praying it would be a good kiss.
Their lips never met.
I wrote this a little while back… Please let me know what you think, but try not to simply say you hate it or you love it… It'd be great if you could give me some insight, here! :-D kthxbai!
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