Joined: 04 Dec 2006
Location: In the shadows of hollow lies
|Posted: Tue Dec 05, 2006 9:55 am
Post subject: The Silent Force (A short story) *scenes of violence*
|(Moderator edited poll for wording and added warning to conform to board rules)
*Warning contains scenes of violence*
Here are the first two chapter of my story...
Prologue: The Silent Force
Last night she died. Right before his own eyes, life left her. She was smiling when she died. Yes, smiling. Smiling at his pain, the fact he was gullible. He believed her lies. The Empire was the future, it will lead us to victory, she had said. Now he knew the empire was full of traitors. The sounds of war were heard outside. The war was a show. None of it was real.
But what he really heard was the sound of a silent force approaching in large numbers. It was coming and nobody knows it is there. He will warn the king, he will warn the people, and he will do it alone.
The Silent force is coming.
Chapter one: The Beginning of a Journey
The Bazaar was bustling with energy. Men, women, and their families were preparing to leave the city. That was wise, compared to others. The others had a fantasy of patriotic pride; they fought hard to get people to fight back. These people soon decided to start a rebellion, a rebellion against the empire and the adversary. They were called organization eighteen. Each individual used an alias, of course as a profession they were referred to as Mornicans, which in the ancient tongue of the elves meant ?Freedom Fighters?.
The merchants, taking the great opportunity of to maximise profit, searched every nook and cranny of their homes and got anything that may be worth a ginea. Pots, pans, and any other kitchen utensil were displayed in each booth. Silverware, which any thief would?ve loved to steal, was up for sale for ridiculous prices. The boy walked up to Old Man Gilbert?s stall and stood idly watching the people pass by to take a look at the blunt and worn out weapons. A man suited in a black hooded cloak passed by the stall, seeing the weapons he stopped to take a look. He picked up a dagger, which was blunt as a kitchen knife, and began to examine it carefully. ?Tell me, good man, what this kitchen knife is worth?? he asked with a drop of obvious humour.
Gilbert turned around quickly his beard flying in slow motion as the boy sensed a smile coming. Gilbert had indeed been angered by that comment. Gilbert had no mercy, showing only a little pity to his daughter, who he forbid from talking to anyone he didn?t like. His expression was scary. Aye, that would be the only word that fits. The stranger repeated his question without hesitating. After that there was a short pause before the stranger asked, ?Do you mean to tell me this is a weapon??
?Yes,? Gilbert replied, ?and if you don?t like that, leave, and ne?er come back.?
?I bet even Archadius could come up with a better display of wares.? the man said.
Archadius was Gilbert?s rival since they became merchants. He attracted the people with his humour and his charm, but his displays were always pitiful. Gilbert?s wares even stood a chance compared to him. Gilbert?s problem was his unfriendliness. If anyone even showed a hint of sarcasm or criticism he would ban them from coming within ten feet from his store. Anyone who stood up to him was praised for his great feat, but later they ended up regretting it. The man continued to anger Gilbert.
Out of frustration and annoyance Gilbert drew a sword. This one, to their surprise, wasn?t blunt. The man gave the feeling that he was smiling under that hood. Without warning he heard a slash, but he didn?t see the man?s body, nor his sword, move. Gilbert was on the ground. It wasn?t sorcery of any kind, he was sure, it was most likely the own man?s speed. The boy looked from the man to the body on the ground. ?Who are you?? he breathed.
?Valon, I am not Mornican, if that is thy assumption.? he replied.
A crowd gathered around the body with apparent interest. The boy took a second look at Gilbert and mentally prepared a list of questions, but when he looked up the man was gone. He saw a woman push through the crowd. She was but a few months younger than him. She was fairer than any other maiden he had ever set his eyes on. To say he?s seen fairer would be a lie. She was Gilbert?s daughter. If she were of any other family he would?ve proposed marriage earlier. She was his inevitable love. He would give a thousand guineas just to pluck the courage to ask Gilbert for her hand in marriage.
Her face wore an expression of worry. She ran to her father?s side looking at the boy for an explanation. ?Daniel, what happened?? she asked.
?Amaranta?? he began.
He suddenly felt there was no need to tell what happened. He felt sleepy as if he had been drugged, for it was only midday, and nobody felt tired at that time. He started seeing blurs. Before he knew what was happening, everything went black. He woke up in a white room, it was all white. It had no life in it; it was clean, cleaner than anywhere he?s ever been. He smelled nothing.
Was he dead?
Chapter two: The Desert Rose
Faraway in the land of Archadios, the supreme desert country, the ruler sat watching his servants come and go carrying a dish for either him or one of his wives. He has been married three times already, and his dignity only allows him to marry once more. He set his eyes on a commoner, poor yet noble in birth. She was named ?The Desert Rose? for her breathtaking beauty and her solitude. Her name was beautiful; its meaning on the other hand wasn?t as beautiful. Her name meant a tree with silvery grey bark and close grained wood. In their language it would have been just Ash, but the elves thought it lacked femininity, so they decided to add an ?e? at the end and make the name Ashe.
Ashe, the Desert Rose, walked every morning in the desert as if expecting one?s return. Her silent attitude made the prince even more content on marrying her. He knew this wasn?t a one man fight. There was probably another suitor right behind a curtain of secrecy. There were rumours that she had once loved a ranger, a ranger of impeccable fighting skills. He had won her heart over in a small riot the peasants put on for show. He, being a modest swordsman, ran in to an enflamed building and pulled out the people trapped inside.
He had sent his imperialists to find him, and kill him if necessary. This stranger had out glorified him in the best opportunity. Of course an innkeeper came to the prince and told him that the ranger left two nights before the search began. He hasn?t been in contact with anyone since, but a female bartender began to gossip about love letters being exchanged between her and the ranger.
Finally, he had asked for his name. There was no reply, so he was forced to bring Ashe, the Desert Rose, herself and question her. The experience had been embarrassing. He recalled it as a humiliating moment in his inevitable career. She had given one reply though, his name was Valon. It was a weird name, probably elven.
Two months after that incident he had asked Ashe, the Desert Rose, to marry him. Her reply was:
?It is an honour to be asked of such a thing, being a commoner of low heritage and birth, but I cannot accept,?
He had replied, ?Why is that??
?My heart is far away, and nobody can have it.?
He had sent soldiers everywhere in search of this man. A man so great he could win a woman?s heart and softly reject it without harming her feelings. He wasn?t found. He started to grow angry and impatient. While he sat watching his servants, his guards, and his wives all laughing for some reason, he decided upon what to do. He would go and search Ashe, the Desert Rose?s house for any sign or omen that might lead him to Valon.
At night, the imperials circled and surrounded Ashe, the Desert Rose?s, house and threatened to torch it if she didn?t give them access to the house. She was frightened and shocked, while the men searched her house the guards accompanying them decided to attempt touching her. She came to the realisation they meant harm. She silently prayed to come out of this unscathed. One of the men, old in age, pulled out his sword and pointed it at her neck. ?How bout some love?? he said in a drunk attitude.
Out of nowhere a man appeared all suited in black and unarmed the man using his sword. ?Take thy sword and prepare to dance.? he said.
?Valon.? Ashe, the Desert Rose, breathed.
?Are you okay, love??
He put two fingers on her lips, and pulled down his hood. ?Don?t speak, it?ll ruin the thousands of moments and memories lost between us.? he said.
He went back to the man and asked him to hurry up. The man just smirked and said that Valon simply fell for the bait. Valon shook his head and had the courage to correct the imperial. He pointed his blade at the man?s chest and said, ?No, it is you who fell for the bait.?
?I don?t understand.? the man replied.
Valon sheathed his sword and softly said, ?Thy life stream has come to an end, for you fell prey to the empire?s greed. Its endless greed and power hunger. Now thy life is in the hands of the prince?s mercy. You come forth and presently harm a woman of another heritage, and you expect to come out of this house unscathed. You mess with any member of this city, you mess with me,? said Valon. ?Understood? I will let you flee. Soft I am not done yet. I will let you flee this time, but next time I will not hesitate to kill you. Now you will leave, you and your men, and you will not tell the prince of my visit. Understood??
?Y-yes, sir.? he said while he motioned the soldiers to leave.
They left the house. Not in their usual two by two lines, with their shiny armour flashing in the moonlight, and their shadows silhouetting on the ice grey pavements, which appeared silver in the new moon. They left in a hurry, everybody knocking the other down, but not just out of fear, out of happiness and joy. They were overcome by their achievement. Not only did they find proof of his contact with the citizens, they also found the man himself and his appearance.
*Guitar playing breaks in!*
Sad excuses and false hopes high~
What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance.
When the heart shatters, the sword follows...