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Post by nemusator on Mar 10, 2017 8:58:44 GMT -5
Old man was scribbling at his desk. His head was down, his fingers white from tight holding of quill. It seemed as if somebody throw a canvas over the mans skeleton and it wrapped around him, almost till bursting point. His eyes were blue and watery... Clear, as the mountain lake, yet there was something bright and sharp in them, despite his age... He looked up towards the candle on the desk. Wax was dripping slowly, taking form as it cooled, like a slow motioned lava. The odor in the room was heavy. It was a mix of all the books and leather covers, parchments, and scented candles and sticks.
The sound of quill writing stopped. He dipped it into his inkwell making to him, a pleasant sound. He dried it a little with sand and continued to write. With his other hand, letting go of the parchment, he opened a drawer which made a muffled pitched sound. He took out a wrapped cigarette and placed it into his mouth, with dry lips eagerly accepting it. Than he reached into his robe and after pulling out some crumbs from hem of his pocket, he pulled out a miniature bottle of alchemist fire and lit it up. He drew smoke lustfully, with a deep breath, letting it to completely fill his lungs, than slowly releasing it. Candle flame trembled, and light and smoke curled together into something new. The smell of tobacco filled the room.
He watched in the candle for some time. Than he quickly closed his eyes. He enjoyed watching at bright light, than closing his eyelids quickly. The shapes around the light would imprint in the back of his eyelids, as he was watching them on some canvas. He looked dark shadows, as they changed colors, getting thicker, and finally disappeared, leaving dark red scenery. He was repeating the process as he smoked.
Finally when his cigarette burned out, he squished it like a worm, twisting it in his ashtray, as it was letting go of its last breath.
He continued writing. This time more energetically, more fanatically. From the black liquid letters formed. Various shapes and drawings were coming to life. He liked adding a small detail to everything. He was so practiced at this, that sometimes he hoped that there is no same letter in his writings.
It began slowly as usual. At first, he did not know to differ whether he is really hearing music or was it his imagination. It was so sensitive, as a most delicate spider web, from the finest of all materials. If he wasn't completely calm and focused, it would flew away or tear up itself. He focused on the light of the candle. He tried not to think of anything. Music was getting louder. New finesses were born from the old ones, it was as melody was composing itself in a most logical and efficient way....
Slowly the flame started to shape... Again, at first he could just be imagining all of this. But, as the music was fortifying, so was the shape in the flame becoming more distinct... Little eye sockets formed, a mouth opening, and the voice started to sing, not following but leading the tune, while every word was a hit to him, which made his body tremble and sob.
"A child will come... *Everything but the head-pin of flame began to get darker* ... Into this world... *Some piece of furniture snapped* ... A child... With a wisdom pearl... Find him.... And teach him well!... Or otherwise... *Music stopped, leaving only the voice which now mutated into something like talking crumbling earthquake*... YOU WILL KNOW HELL!"
Wind slammed the window frames, glass flew everywhere, he violently entered the room, ruling the space, putted out the candle, leaving the room in complete darkness, before he vanished.
Old man was weeping as his entire body shook in cramps. He was struggling to breathe. He somehow managed to reach the window, holding himself on crates and chairs as he was walking and the floor under him made squealing sounds. He closed the frames rapidly, than somewhat reassured he rushed to his desk. With trembling hands he lit up the candle again, pulled out a bottle of fine, strong wine and started to drink as liquid was escaping his mouth, dropping around him and soaking his robe.
He knew what he had to do. The time has come.
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Post by nemusator on Mar 24, 2017 8:58:58 GMT -5
I
He looked around his room and tucked himself tighter under the sheets. He was feverish and trembled occasionally. The room was filled with heavy air where a tart scent of sickness mixed with medical herbs aroma. It was somewhat dark in the room, with lots of scattered items around his bed. Teakettle, a plate with some crumbs, few pots and a wooden sword. There was his desk in the corner, with several books in leather covers... Dark cherry color curtains were gently dancing... He did not mind being sick occasionally. He liked when he was able to lie tucked in, and get lost in some good book. His body was weaker, but he had an impression that his fantasies which would come to life in his head were more vivid and real.
Door bluntly squeaked and his mother came in. She brought a smile in the room, which lightened it. Her eyes were green, shiny and warm.
She looked at her son... Gently placed a hand on his forehead, than leaned over him. She smelled his sweet breath, caressed his curly hair, being able to grasp his entire being, all what he represented in one single hug.
-How are you doing today sweetie?
Her voice was enchanting. He could get lost in it. -Hm... Have been better mom! He replied and made a funny face.
-Your fever has weakened... She kept caressing his hair. -You should go out some, it is a beautiful day outside... Out of this Gnoll den!
They tickled and played some. She picked up the dishes with gracious moves, without them making a sound. Than she winked at him and left the room... He sighed, lied back and watched the oval ceiling.
Only... It wasn't the ceiling he knew... Neither he knew this room... Shapes and colors which his mind could not grasp, two hollow creatures with white wings, too bright for him to be able to look at them... Their murmur echoed through his mind... And than it was all normal again.
His ceiling, his room, well known things around him... It has happened again. And only for few seconds. He got up and started to write and draw about all that he could depict.
...
THUNK! Log snapped in half, only to be replaced by another one and live its exact fate. THUNK! Muscular hands, more like legs of an average man were chopping wood for the house. Sweat dripped around him, soaking his rags. His hands were almost numb from all of the work, but he did not mind. As long as his kid gets better...
...
He dressed up, left his room, and went straight through hearth room, to promising outdoors.
He had to cover his eyes, the sun blinded him for a moment... But... The joyful tweet of the birds... The smell of spring, filling his nostrils, carrying the breath of life to his lungs and making heart beat louder. Sky was perfectly blue, with few of the clouds, floating slowly as if they are lost...
-Hey son! Shouted his father. -Back on your feet I see...
His father nodded to him, pleased to see him.
-Yes father! He replied -I would like to help you chop up that... You are far too slow... He smiled.
His father made a serious face, and than started to chase him. -Why you, now I will catch you!
They both laughed as he ran away.... -Go play son! I got this... Shouted his father at him, as he was disappearing into the sparse forest...
His father always worried when he was going away... He did not let that show... But yet, every time his son would return, he had more confidence in him. Not to mention that he thought of his fears as irrational and inappropriate...
...
He jumped over a small stream, listened to its gurgle, tried to catch some colorful butterflies and to inbreathe the forest... Sometimes, he just wanted to prolong a perfect moment to infinity, and to get lost in the wonderful feeling he had...
...
High in one dense treetop, two camouflaged goblins were sitting, tensely scouting the area. Suddenly, one of them, moved his hand, pointing to something. The other one narrowed his eyes, and placed a hand over his forehead.... Than a light evelish glance of pleasure went over his face.... He reached for something in his pocket... A dart... He dipped the dart in some stinky fluid from his pouch. Than he lifted up his peashooter, placed the dart inside, and got ready... All they needed to do now is wait... And waited they have, for so long... The other one smiled ominously as well...
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Vision
Apr 13, 2017 4:35:02 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on Apr 13, 2017 4:35:02 GMT -5
II
Lightning struck a tree, out of the blue sky. He heard thunder at the same time and felt his hair rising. The tree immediately caught fire and surrounding landscape accepted the flame as inevitable destiny. It all happened in seconds. As if a monster was born and started to roar and tumble towards him. He wanted to ran away, but his legs froze. He was watching the swirl of roars, crackling and heat rushing towards him...
Something strong grasped him from behind. He knew that grip. That was his father. He was tossed onto shoulder as the landscape rotated, and while he was bumping, the fire was becoming smaller and smaller... His father was running, leaping with gigantic steps, never looking back... As fire monstrously started, so it suddenly went out, leaving a ball of smoke, which went up and dispersed. As if someone poured a tone of water over it... Unnatural, he thought. He tried to look into his father eyes and read them. He saw determination and large drops of sweat, tumbling down his face.
It wasn't long until they reached the safety of their yard. His father placed him on his feet and grabbed his shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. -Go inside with your mother and stay away from windows! He saw fear in his father eyes. He obeyed. He knew that his father was a brave man and that this fear was his worry for him.
As the door of the house shut, he took two logs, setting them firmly in his big hands, and rushed towards the place where fire took place.
As he was approaching, he walked more cautiously. His eyes were rapidly examining the area and he tried to depict the smell of conflagration from other smells... No unusual marks at all... A twig snapped... He turned. On his left side a huge orc came out of the bushes. Its eyes were red of hate and foam was dripping of his mouth. He had just the time to think... Orcs? So close? That means that the village guards... And than the orc charged at him, waving his large greatsword. He tossed the logs into the air, leaped, made a cartwheel, landing behind the orc... The sword swooshed right above his head, missing it barely... He caught the logs and smashed the spine of the orc with one. Spine snapped, sound similar to big tree snapping in half... Orc fell on its knees, roaring... Quickly, he turned, and performed a salve of punches in the head, not letting the body fall...
He stood up as orc was falling, his face in the dirt. Thirsty earth drank the blood voraciously and white flowers sprayed with red swayed in the breeze which started to increase its power. Directly in front of him, two even larger orcs popped out. He made a grin and hurled one log with great precision, directly in the nose of one. Orc raised his shield with such speed, that he was surprised for a moment... And that was enough for a second orc to move forward and cut his knee with his twisted spear.
He would fall, but somehow he drew strength not to, and managed to make few steps back... The images of his son and wife were floating in his mind.No! He wont die today!
They were all breathing heavily and looking at each other.
He had but a log and was tossing it from one hand to another, provoking them, hoping that one of them will now charge without thinking... That didn't happen...
Instead the other orc placed the blade of his axe on his cheek and made a deep cut... As his face was painfully trembling he screamed and hurled his axe... Man jumped away from the hit, but it still took away a piece of his shoulder as it pounded into earth...
With roars and screams, two blood-lusted orcs charged at him.... He tried to block, but his log snapped in half... Without thinking he threw himself on one of them, and he managed to clench his throat and brake it before the other one lanced him...
One orc was rolling in dust, wheezing, and the other was twisting the lance... His strength was leaving him fast... He grabbed the end of the spear which has gone through him... He pulled the orc near with one strong move, and punched him, the hardest he could, in his chin...
Orc started to fall backwards... But before he fell, a lightning pierced him through, and his intestines flew through the air, falling randomly everywhere... A hooded man rushed towards him, and that was the last thing he saw... Blackness came and yet than he started to feel pain...
-Chell... -Aranoria... He said with his last words... His hand reaching up, up as if it wanted to drag almighty deity down to help his family...
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Vision
May 6, 2017 12:18:43 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on May 6, 2017 12:18:43 GMT -5
III
-Thorgrim... He was in darkness. There were two lights, each on every end of it. One was calmness and a promise. The other one was emotions and uncertainty.
-Thorgrim! He jumped into the other one.
Suddenly he was out of one darkness, into another. But to exit this darkness, he needed to open his eyes. He tried... As if someone was holding down his eyelids... Sensations started to come back to his body. He started to feel his skin again. Next time it was still hard... But he managed somehow...
He was looking at the ceiling of his home. He was cold. So cold, although fire was burning bright in the hearthstone. He tried to get up, but a touch on his chest... He knew that touch, and there was so much that one touch said to him....
Aranoria was trying to smile at him, her face wanting to cry, but she would not let it. Her eyes were green as the emerald lakes, deep and comforting.
Another hand was caressing his hair... Small hand...He smiled proudly... They are safe!
They helped him to sit in the bed. Everything ached as he moved, bit by bit....
And than he saw a stranger sitting near the door, in the corner. His blue watery eyes were benevolent, smiling to him... For a moment he thought he saw something flashing in them, as lightning... Than he removed the look, looked up and started to recapitulate events... Lungs ached as he spoke, but it was the least he could do.
-Stranger... what did I miss? He tried to smile, but it was impossible at the moment.
- You missed your own raising from the dead. Said stranger in a monotone voice. -But I don't see how could one attend to their own...
- I...
-Don't speak now!... Stranger continued. -You got two remnant orcs alone... I took care of some goblins and two more... The rest were slain by the purple dragon knights and your local militia... Alas, many of them have fallen... That is how a small group broke through... And failed, as you are now aware yourself...
Old man crossed his fingers and sleeves of his robe swallowed them, like they were commanded to...
- I thought I lost you... Said Aranoria, not being able to hold her tears anymore... Instead they made a trip, from her’s face to his, warm and salty. Another pair of arms wrapped around his neck, as if they were afraid that he might disappear… He hugged them both, not minding the pain which leveled with movement…
- Who are you? And what business they had in Dhedluk!?
The old man nodded, seeming eagerly awaiting to answer questions and shed some light on the events…
- My name is Olirint. Old man slightly leaned forward and touched his heart with his right hand. -I am a bard in service of Milil… And your son was the target of this ruthless attack…
Thorgrim and Aranoria looked at the same time at each other, and he could clearly see panic in their eyes… Chell was still clinging on his father… He wasn’t going to go easy on them. They must process it fast and accept it. Furthermore, they must help him to fulfill his mission… Or the entire plan will fail, and the sacrifices of many will be in vain…
-Therefore… Continued Olirint, with a determined look, -He must come with me to Waterdeep… Where he will be taught how to protect himself… You must accept that…
-Stop! Shouted Thorgrim.
-I… I will be forever in your debt respected Olirint, he said calming down while his facial expression confirmed the seriousness of his words… -But we will be more than able to protect our son… And this family will stay together, no matter the peril… As he was finishing his sentence, he felt a strong pain, and had to close his eyes for a second, making a grimace.
Aranoria squeezed his hand, and muttered comforting words… -Chell opened his mouth, with eyes wide opened, not knowing what to do…
- Please realize… Olirint continued… -Your son has a rare gift…. Chell’s mother wanted to shush the man, but his father gestured to her that she should let him speak… -For this gift, he will be hunted… Olirint stood up and spread his hands… - Not only that he is in danger, but everyone around him will be… -And! He quickly inserted… -I know that your own safety is not a priority to you…
-But I presume that you would not want him to have a life of constant hiding, constant perils, centered in the eye of the storm, where every moment could be his last, while not having control of whatsoever… Than he deeply sighed… He saw in their eyes that they have begun to comprehend and accept. It was for his own good after all… - Nobody on this world can save himself by his own…
-I will leave you now… He said, realizing they need some time on their own… -But I will come next day, when the moon is high… -The decision is in your hands… -And the life of your son, which you saved by giving your own… He held his look on Thorgrim… -Until then, may Milil inspires you!
As he said the last words, he walked backwards, and instead of grabbing the door handle and exiting, he simply went through the wall, like a ghost, gradually disappearing on the outside…
…
They were alone. All three of them, the family of Floudirian. They were holding onto each other, without speaking a word. Yet in their hearts, a seed of inevitable realization was growing, spreading its vines and its thorns, not caring for the host....
Yes, they could protect him... Or could they? What would have happened if that mage didn’t show up? So, what if he, Thorgrim dies? But how many will die, for a battle lost in advance, while his son will suffer the most? Oh, that mage was cunning enough to force the decision upon them... But the worst part... There was no doubt that he was right...
That night, they both hugged their son, the strongest they could, yet he already slipped away... The hand of destiny took him, and was just merciful enough to allow them the final goodbye. They were breathing in his smell, imprinting every part of him, spending the night sleeplessly watching him breathe...
When tomorrow's sun baths the world with its light, when they gather around the table... Than they will talk... Now is the time to comfort him, a time for silent understanding, now is the time to be family... For the last time...
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Vision
Jun 10, 2017 5:25:57 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on Jun 10, 2017 5:25:57 GMT -5
IV
Scent of salt, algae and fertility was carried by the wind. It was whipping his face relentlessly. Deep turquoise blue water was whispering of secrets, never to be revealed, as the ship cut through it, making it foam and gurgle.
White sun was hidden behind the clouds, gleaming weakly, seeming uncertain in its destiny and abilities…. The very same how he felt now… Ship gently and slowly swayed, like a giant in sleep, moving from side to side…
Seagulls argued constantly, following the ship, landing on its high posts, sails, and rams.
Paddles flapped like bird wings as rowers determinedly and rhythmically cut the water. He watched the foam track from the furthest point to its beginning… It was erasing itself as the ship made progress, reminding him that he will never walk the same paths in his life again, closing them for him…
Olirinth was cloaked in his cloak of invisibility. This is how he could observe the boy, without his presence impacting his natural behavior… Time was escaping through his hands, like grains of sand dripping through hourglass. Long ago he stopped trying to hold onto them, clinch his hands… He now observed peacefully as they continued to slip and poor out…
So little time, and yet so many things to do… Soon the sun will stop rising and setting for him… The world will stop spinning… But as for everyone else, it will continue as if he was never there… He liked to think that he will leave this world a slightly better place than he found it. It would be a small achievement, yet invaluable.
Perhaps, nobody will remember him and his deeds… He will be forgotten and turned into the very earth he came from… But Milil will know… And that is all that matters… Perhaps he will become a song… Forever humming through the pastures and woods, bathing in the streams… He will inspire hearts of many with his hum…
Chell was constantly adjusting his robe belt. He was checking that every bit of his gear is on the correct place. That gave him a bit of certainty. Frequently he reached for items in his pocket… A Lassar’s tear, given to him by his mother and an emerald ring coated in gold gifted to him by his father.
He would stroke the smooth surface of the items with his hands, and squeezing them strongly in his pockets… He felt their presence strongly through the items, and more important, he stored them deep in his very soul and mind…
He thought about the world much… How vast and mysterious it was… How ones decision may impact lives of entire generations… How we can hug happiness only for a brief moment, and pray to get to hold her again… And how we are little in control of our own destiny…
As he was deep in thoughts, he didn’t pay much attention to shouting of the ships scout on the observation post... When he was deep in his thoughts, all sounds seemed to merge into one, making it something like a background music which fed his imagination…
It was yet when many voices rose and starting to relish and laugh, that he returned to reality and looked at them….
Men pushed on the ships edge, and his view cleared…. In the distance, hugged into the mist, he could see a tall tower, like a needle defiantly standing in the sea… He caught a glimpse of many white buildings and straight lines of the docks.
That needle looked a lot like his destiny, and he was certain he will never forget the first time he saw it…
Little did he know… Of what he will find inside, and how it will change the entire coarse of his destiny…
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Vision
Oct 31, 2017 17:13:18 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on Oct 31, 2017 17:13:18 GMT -5
V
Smoke was so dense you could cut it with a sword. Smells of various dishes, alcohol, tobacco and cheap perfumes entered through nostrils violently. Roistering would cause a headache to everyone not used to it. Clinging of cups,food being devoured, drunken laughter, swears, angry cries, and constant diffuse talk all over the place. Occasionally he glanced over the rim of his keg while enjoying the strong taste of his dark beer. He could spot many details and memorize a lot in a single glance. The inn was basking in the dim red light, reflection of a fireplace and few scattered oil lamps pinned onto the wooden walls. He scratched his name into the wooden table he sat at with his forefinger nail and the left corner of his lip curved into smile after doing so.
Nothing of particular interest to him. At least not yet. As he got more and more intoxicated, everything became more and more meaningless to him. His eyes drank the waitress bosom as she leaned to poor more ale into the thirsty kegs... He could scent her, feel his fingertips over her skin, or it was his imagination... Occasional flashes of what seemed important, as kicks implanting information, other than that the world stood still in darkness.
Waiting had to pay of. It simply had to. All the leads led him to this place. And now, his training will pick fruits from the unaware tree. It could not go the other way. After so much effort...
At first he didn't receive whatsoever reaction to the voice calling his name. His consciousness simply assembled it into the senseless rumor... As he felt a touch on his shoulder, grasping him and drawing him out of his focus, he turned....
-Sir? In the name of her majesty your presence is required. You ought to come with us and fulfill your duty to the realm.
Oh... Was this the opportunity he wagered for so long... The gentleman in the middle, who just removed his hand from his shoulder was no other than... Aye, his right arm was tightly wrapped on apple of his sword... But still... He was tightly pressed between two rookies... Probably some ragamuffins who did something they had to pay of by working for public benefits... For a moment for them, but quite sufficient time for him, to calculate the odds and plan his next move... He sucked in every detail of their composure, stands and what he though accurate estimation of abilities....
He turned to the man in the middle.....
-Most certainly sir.... He said with a grin.... After I finish this keg...
He lifted his keg as if he was going to drink it to the last drop, just in the height they can't see his eyes, and blocking his chin....
As he did so, he felt his adrenaline rising... As usual there was an internal struggle... Some sane bits of him, with all of their strength urged him not to do it... Even tried to present his attempt as a failure... He couldn't help but chuckle, as he slowly finished his beer, and the faces started to form as foam was disappearing...
He slowly went to put his keg down...
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Vision
Apr 15, 2018 2:40:04 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on Apr 15, 2018 2:40:04 GMT -5
VI
Market, the heart of the city, was ticking tirelessly, filling docks with shouts, scents of sharp spices, sea food, stretched skins drying in the sun and other products... People in various clothing were forming rivers, and through a narrow empty curse, guards would occasionally pass, not restraining to push someone with their clubs and to grunt about it... Whatever the current coarse of global or local events took place, market was always busy as an ant heap.
Above all this, closer to the snow capped hills, female eagle was choosing it's partner for life. Winds were merciless here, and she was tossing branches from hers beak into the abyss below...
She would than close monitor which male would manage to catch all the branches, and would allow him to gently place them in her beak...
later they would go and, using the same and additional wattle make a nest. They would pluck their feathers and make the nest cozily and warm... Chicks would come into the world, quickly accommodated to comfortable nest and the nurture of their parents. At one point, both parents would flap their wings hard, blowing all the comfort away, leaving naked wattle. Fish would be placed 5 meters of the nest. As confused chicks would realize they have to reach the fish, they would fall, tumbling down, and their father would catch them all, one by one, as he did with branches, returning them to nest...
More and more they would try and fall, until one day several pair of wings could be seen roaming in the heights, as reachable only by noblest of thoughts...
On the elevated scrappy plateau, town crier was shouting in an ironwood cone, his voice trembling over the market noise. Details of recent violent triple murder in the city, names and ranks of the murdered ones, as well as degraded reputation of very much wanted fugitive.
Chell was trying to keep up with Olirinth, while various types of facial expressions looked onto him from their comfortable height of adulthood. Olirinth on the other hand, listened carefully to the town crier, rubbing his chin with forefinger and thumb, occasionally nodded, and seemed deep in thoughts... He still managed to give cutpurse a look, tightening the grip on his staff, as seemingly well dressed man widen eyes in surprise, and quickly dived into the river of people...
They stopped only few times, briefly, quickly buying essentials they needed, with old bard simply pointing to specific goods and stating quantity as scales jumped like seesaws before settling, merchants scribbling something and exchanges were made. Plan was to head straight to the Great Library for consultation, than to the Academy, where Chell's training will begin together with strict instructions, and a bit of clarification, as he hoped...
He bit on an apple his companion threw him with a smile, loudly crunching it, as his palate got intrigued, juices filling the mouth and distinct scent filled his nostrils.
Looking around for a bit, and adjusting belts on his gear, he spotted a small yellow cat, who sat and looked straight into him with its big green eyes, before people's legs, like theater scenes or curtains, hid it.
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Post by nemusator on Oct 8, 2018 4:48:39 GMT -5
VII
Awareness pulsated in waves through his unconsciousness, sieving glimpses of reality. His being fought to repel the senselessness of it, and stay deep in the numbness. Yet it kept on pulsating, piling up, until his illusion crashed under the weight of it, into dust. Crackling of the flames, irritating whistling, clinging of metal tools and his chains scratching each other, as his exhausted body swayed, like a ham. It was less and less a part of him. He could distinguish parts dead, and parts which could still feel. Death was growing on him, like he was fertile earth, and it was moss. He could sense the heat through his eyelids. Shadows and flames made love to each other, knowing that without one, the other is gone. He made an effort to open his eyelids, and a rush of pain charged from there, to his toes, so violently, that he let out a rasping, muffed scream, some of his scabs on dry lips opened, letting drops of him flee through cracks on the floor... He would return to numbness if steps approaching, echoing, didn't force him to focus completely... -Cat ate 'em. Laughter, cough, and loud spiting out of collected content. -Remember? He asked, voice colored with amusement and enjoyment. He was puled nearer, shackles clinging, him prepared with a spark of strength he could collect at the moment. Foul stinking breath of ale and rotting food, grabbed him, as the man breathed loudly into him, air hitting holes where his eyeballs once where, and at the same time, bouncing of skull and out. -Just aaaaas.... These! What he sensed next, as the man grabbed him between his legs made him pass out again instantly... Yet for a long time he cramped, pain consuming him, biting of last bits of him... Blackness. Nothing but blackness. Finally. No feeling, no thought... Non existence... Oh how he wished to be swallowed by it, never again to feel, to be aware... Never again... Torturer laughed, his lungs grating... He turned his back to the tortured man,and as he walked towards the heavy oaken door, inhaling once, deeply, smell of dried blood, pulled out a bundle of keys and rotated them around his forefinger. He continue whistling as his footsteps took him away... He went to shove a key in the lock... When white light emerged under his feat, wanting to swallow him... He turned, with eyes opened wide, his hand on his ear dagger... Tortured man shined coated in a layer of white light... He was smiling, relieved of all pain... Looking with his black, empty eye sockets straight into the man's soul. Torturer's hair instantly went white and he fell on his knees with a loud THUD! He grabbed his chest, as if he wants to grab his own heart... To realize it is not ticking anymore... Eyeless, tongueless, hanging man, spoken... - He is coming. Instantly, his head fell down, light disappeared together with his soul, leaving the body to sway as a mute testimony of one life. Unable to move, he watched the sight, as the swaying body was a hourglass... And last grain just fell down, shattering world...
...
- Take ... This trash out of here! Guard grumbled, giving orders to squires, pointing to hanging rags of human anatomy, and a dead jailer, with his head oddly twisted under heavy door... Reports, reports... He thought to himself... Who is going to fill all those parchments, all those templets... I told him to go easier... He grunted loudly... Didn't have the stomach after all... Fool... He peed on dirt, right after exiting tunnel which always made him duck, feeling somewhat relieved for a moment, enjoying the strong smell of it. He shook it, tucked inside, buttoned up, and walked away to office grumbling. |
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Vision
Dec 11, 2019 5:18:49 GMT -5
Post by nemusator on Dec 11, 2019 5:18:49 GMT -5
Chapter I
Years passed, slow for young and fast for old. He was feeling more and more his greatsword as his extension, not merely a weapon he was using. So it was now, as he stood on the cliff slicing with it through the air, attempting to keep the pace and movement continuous. As many times before, he had a blindfold, having to keep in mind that losing balance, making a wrong move with it or slipping would mean death. Drop to the rock devouring waves below was long and sharp. Their roar was rhythmic however, and he has realized some time ago, that everything that could break his concentration he needed to weave into his practice, somehow to make it subconsciously inspiring... He got used to instinctively react to what could be a threat. Such as swooshing of Olirinth's staff at his knees, elbows or wrists. Making defensive moves in continuum of his dance was something he was proud of by now. Or, he would somehow manage to keep the grasp on hilt of his sword, even if he wouldn't feel his weakened hand for a while, or pain somehow pulsating to it... He wasn't patient enough, as often pointed out, in praying, but once he would reach a certain state, practiced often by the Harmonious Order... That is the place he liked spending time the most. Everything seemed so clear, united in showing the path, thoughts were clear, emotions balanced, and it seemed to him as floating in endless lake of understanding and comfort...
Swooshing of the blade harmonized with sounds of waves, wind, birds... Air was salty and refreshing, drying drops of sweat on his heated body. With a smile, he opened his eyes slowly, as he let the air fill his lungs, appreciating the moment of it. Olirinth walked to him slowly, his sandals grinding sand. -That was good... He pointed out with warm look in his eyes, looking proudly at his student. Chell was glad of the compliment, he returned the friendly look, and turned to the horizon... Down there, as a peanut shell, a boat was floating... It had men piled up inside, expressions determined, bodies tightened as bow tendons and Chell observed them bouncing up and down from the waves... Sparkle of sun, reflected from a smooth metal surface, made his brows furrow... Few others sparkled simultaneously... As if somebody was playing a mute light metallophone. Olirinth curved a corner of his lip into cunning smile. -Just watch... And Chell did.
It was not long until fast caravel vessel of the royal navy stormed out from behind a big rock and started to slice waves towards the boat. Sailors noticed them in time... He could see occasional dim reflection of sun sparks sinking... Men transformed into humble, hunched fishermen, dipping fishing rods and bouncy bobbers into water... Royal navy had nothing to see, other than that when they finally reached them...
The teacher chuckled, genuinely amused. -The art of mimicry... Not only did they make weapons disperse in a blink... Nobody would ever think they are anything else but fishermen...
He said, patted Chell on shoulder and started to walk away to prepare a polygon for him.
Chell curled barely grown slim mustache tip, and eyed the sea and it's unsurpassed inspiration...
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