Magma Crater

may 8th. female perspective.

2nd part to the Journey of a Sailor.

The waters fill with the blood of my people, tainted with a hellish glow of red. We’re blinded by the filth and waste that has been dumped into the once pristine ocean that we call home. Swimming the streets I no longer see the signs of a happy existence, instead the citizens cower in their homes, waiting for the next attack. We set our lives to the sporadic invasions that plague us and lead to the destruction of our civilization.

Just outside the borders, the beast lurks, waiting for those who dare stray too far. We’ve been cut off from any hope of a savior and the fish no longer swim through the city. We have no source of food, save for what we have put aside. No doubt Hratho has seen to their destruction as well. I’d once heard the beast called by another name, one foreign to my ears. But as the great head of Hratho broke the water, the strange creature that resembled me in face and torso screamed, “Leviathan!” His whole crew shook with fear and I listened to their dying screams as the beast tore them apart. Hratho left no survivors but he was held at bay by the last of our protection fields. Their energy was collapsing and soon nothing would keep him from destroying us.

Once, Hratho had slept in the depths of our vast home, a sleep that had seemed endless and we’d hoped it would always be so. He’d awoken and with him came the end of our uneasy peace with the Crynu tribe of the northern waters. We didn’t know how, but they controlled the beast and he did their bidding.

“Jaiya, the king seeks your audience.” The waiting girl bobbed her head in a sign of respect.

I sighed and rose from where I had been seated, staring from the narrow window of my home. “Do you know the reason?”

“It isn’t my place to ask.”

She was right, but the fact made it inconvenient. Nodding in acceptance, I swam back through my door and along the narrow corridor that finally ended in the widening hall of the admittance chambers. With webbed fingers, I lightly pressed on the door, feeling the water work with me as I gave it a soft push. It opened, gliding with ease till it revealed the haggard face of my uncle.

“Shaksu Jaiya.” He murmured the title of respect for the keeper of the city.

I was in charge of the people’s well being and protection. I’d failed them. “My King.”

“One of the Crynu tribe has been captured. She is awaiting interrogation.”

I nodded and found my way to the chambers where prisoners were held. Before the war we’d had no reason for such unsavory stations. As I entered, I took a moment to study the captive. She was like all the others, a shark’s body for her lower half and the top much like me, except for the sharp, bared teeth and a nasal structure that rose sharply from the otherwise smooth planes of her face.

“I am Shaksu Jaiya, do you have a name?”

With a guttural growl, she lunged at me but stopped short as I constricted the water around  her body.

“The water is no longer your ally. You should know enough of your enemies to realize what a Shaksu is capable of. Do not make me remind you.”

With an ugly sneer, the Crynu warrior fell still. Perhaps if I had more patience the entire procedure would have taken hours. As it was, I walked from the room only a half hour later, satisfied with the knowledge I had gained.

“We have enough food to hold out for a few more months, but the protection barrier will fail before that.” The voices of the men trailed off as I entered.

“I have a plan.” I smiled at their shock. “The Crynu are winning this war because of the Hratho but I know how they control it.”

“How, Shaksu?”

“They don’t.”

They hesitated, the King looking on the verge of annoyance. “We don’t understand.”

“The Hratho is a creature driven by instinct alone, seeking out comfort’s such as a full stomach and warmth. Like all creatures, the Hratho has things to which it has an innate dislike for. The Crynu discovered that the rocks from the magma crater create such a strong reaction within the creature that it fleas in its presence.”

“The magma crater?” The King’s yell echoed through the room. “You know such a place is inaccessible to us. The heat alone sets a disease upon us, the likes of which spread with the current. And the sheer amount of land to be crossed is impossible, even with the temporary use of your Shaksu powers to give you legs.”

“Heat can be overcome and so can the distance. What we need,” I paused for effect, knowing the suspense might drive them to accept the idea, if desperation alone was not enough. “…is a human.”

“A human? You must have already succumbed to the heat of magma crater.” The King scoffed, shaking his head just as he had always done when I was a child, before my shaksu abilities had shown themselves.

“Patrol spotted a ship making its way over our territory, it barely entered in before the Hratho got it. I can go now and find someone to aid us.”

“They’ll sooner kill you Jaiya.”

I smiled bitterly. “Then I die to save my people.”

—————–

The days it took to win the man’s confidence angered me. I smiled, a pretty smile that I reserved for those who caught my fancy. Wasted on the likes of this stupid creature who couldn’t understand a word of my ancient language. I caught on to a few words of his own barbaric tongue and tried to explain the danger. The word pet was used, a strange word. I believed it meant a war tool, or controlled animal. Why else would that strange mad man refer to the Hratho as the Crynu’s pet?

He approached the end of our territory and it made me desperate. Why was he so stupid as to miss the danger? Once the Crynu attacked, I think he finally understood. It still took days more till I had convinced him and time was precious. I was wasting it here.

As the Hratho’s head rose from the water, I raised a hand, shooting out a jet of freezing water. It slammed into the beast’s eye and he let out a great roar, shaking his head and swinging it around as if confused. The man stood their, gazing open mouthed at the beast. With a hiss, I grabbed his arm and yanked him down into the water, wrapping his hand onto the water glider’s fin. A dolphin he called it.

Then we were under the water and dashing away from the battle, away from the sinking ship and dying men. I couldn’t save them but the guilt still weighed on me. A frantic beating on my arm caused me to turn and see the widened eyes of the man. Air, I’d forgotten. These human creatures needed air to survive. Narrowing my eyes, I willed the water back and it gave under the pressure, surrounding the man’s head in a sort of bubble. He gagged and gasped, fighting to breathe. I watched, unconcerned as he returned to a state of normalcy.

“You will help me.” I fumbled the words out in his language, projecting it through the water so he could understand.

“Help you?” He blinked at me uncomprehendingly.

I motioned back to the battle and bared my teeth, emitting a roar. “Hratho.”

“The Leviathan?”

“Leviathan.” I turned the word over in my mind. “Yes. Leviathan.”

“I can’t.”

I shook my head. “Yes.”

“No.”

Turning towards him and stilling the motion of my tail, I grabbed his shirt and yanked him to me, till my nose hovered just outside the bubble I had created. “Yes. Easy.”

“Easy…” He sighed. “Right.”

“Right.” I smiled.

We continued swimming and he made no further conversation and that was fine with me. It tired me to speak in his rough language and he made no attempts to understand mine, a language of culture of history.

I felt the lingering heat in the waves before I saw the rocks that jutted up towards the surface. “Here.” I whispered the word and pulled the man creature close to me again. “Help here.” My limited understand of his language frustrated me.

“Here?” His eyebrow rose and he looked up at the island. “What do I do?”

Do… Yes, he needed to do something. Was it a question? Instructions, he needed instructions. I pulled the chain that was around my neck and showed him the rock that hung at the end. The rock that I had taken from the Crynu warrior. “I need.” I motioned to the rock again.

“A rock.”

“A rock.” I nodded. “Many.”

“Many rocks.” He muttered the words in disbelief but nodded anyway.

Resting a hand on the water glider that had helped us, I uttered a few sharp clicks and the animal bobbed its head happily. Then I waited, as the glider carried the man to the surface. And waited. The time made me anxious and I held the magma crater rock in my hand, feeling its rough edges cut into my hands. At least I was protected if the Hratho came.

“The Shaksu of the Vendoa tribe. How perfect.”

I turned slowly, facing the Crynu warriors who smirked at me. The leader swam forward slowly, slitted eyes watching me intently.

“You should have kept to your dying city.”

“You should have stayed in your own waters.” I replied, raising a hand and tightening the water, stilling it so that they stopped moving, their tails caught in the unmoving element. “This water answers to me.”

“I guess we never learn.” The water liquified around them and in a flash a triton was hurtling through the water, striking my tail and sending me twenty feet back till I hit the underwater portion of the island.

With a whimper of pain, I pulled the three pronged spear from my tail. How had they reversed my control of the water? With a shaking hand, I held up the rock, but they just laughed.

“We’re not the Hratho, Jaiya of the Vendoa.”

“You know my name?” It was not a comforting though.

“We always know the person who stands between us and victory.” The leader’s words sent a charge of excitement through the other warriors and they rush towards me. With war cries tearing through the water, amplified by its natural state, they stabbed and swiped with their weapons. I deflected with solidified water shields, but they shattered quickly.

Behind them, in the murky deep, I saw the twining serpentine figure of the beast. It kept back, wary of the stone in my possession and around the necks of the other Crynu warriors. But it hungered, despite the scent of blood that told of his recent killings. It had an insatiable appetite.

A silver, streamline shape darted through the water, in front of me and I saw the man, still clinging desperately to the water glider. A sharp pang of fear shot through me and I hurriedly created a shield, just in time to deflect another attack. In the man’s arms were a large collection of stones and still more were tied to the water glider.

He spoke rapidly, pointing upward at a sharp piece of stone that hung precariously to the bottom of the island. Magma rock. I glanced down, seeing the beast hunting below us, swimming back and forth, agitated and angered by the resistance it felt from the island. Maybe the man wasn’t so stupid.

Raising a hand, I felt the hardened bolt of water shoot forward, piercing the side of the rock and cutting its last connection to the island. It dropped, driven by its weight.

The beast let out a mighty roar as the rock pierced its side. Perhaps a rock of any other kind would have been easy for Hratho to shake off. But the bane of its existence was trapped in its side and it had no hope of escaping. The beast sunk, thrashing and letting out cries of pain and anger, but still it continued, till it disappeared in the darkness.

I smiled in triumph but then screamed as a sharpened blade sliced my shoulder.

“The Crynu will not be defeated and treated as servants again, we will not submit to another of your forced treaties!” The leader let out another cry of anger, yanking the blade back and lunging forward again.

My eyes widened in shock as the man pushed off from the water glider to slide in front of me. The blade struck his stomach. With a savage growl, I beat my fin against the water and charged the Crynu leader. Water turned frigid around me, ice forming to sharp knives on my fingers as I attacked. The warriors let out a cry of panic, scattering as the temperature steadily dropped around them, until they froze and sunk just as the Hratho had done.

The adrenaline left my body and I wearily waved my tail back and forth to stay up. I glanced down, seeing the man lying on top of the water glider. It had saved him from sinking. I stilled my tail’s casual sway and allowed myself to sink to his level. Resting a hand on his wound, I felt the water stir around me, warming and melting the ice that clung to my skin. Water was full of energy and I was redirecting it.

The pulsating warmth flooded through my body, down my arm and to my hand. I let it flow from my palm to his bloodied wound. The sharks would be coming soon, smelling the blood. Slowly, the water calmed the blood and coated the injury, covering it for protection. The man groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

“Easy.” I smiled at him.

“Right. Easy.”

Looking at him, I decided he wasn’t so strange. Of course, his legs were still odd, but I had seen legs before. I could have legs, for the span of a few minutes anyway.

He sighed. “The rocks?”

I shook my head but smiled. The rocks didn’t matter anymore. The Hratho was gone and my people could rebuild. We’d dealt with the threat of the Crynu before and we could do it again.

I struggled to find the right words. “…home?”

“My home?” He asked.

I nodded.

“The ship is gone.” He said.

It seemed funny to me, that he had lived on that odd contraption. “No home?”

“Once.”

I smiled. “Again.”

He looked at my funnily and I bowed my head shyly. “Yeah, it could be home again.”

She never grew up

may 7th. female perspective.

My mother used to tell me and my sister about the lady in the moon. The lady was kind and gentle, a spirit that drifted through the world and eased the pain that the searing heat of the sun had caused. She was the beam of light that shattered the darkness, the hope that despite the sun’s absence, a new day would dawn and light would once again triumph.

Yes, it was a beautiful story and we used to sit and beg for more. My mother would smile and laugh that melodious laugh, like a song that was waiting to be composed. And once again she would begin her stories, epic tales of the lady’s mercy and compassion for the people of the world, how in the bleakest of nights and weeks, she was there to offer a comforting word and thought. It helped us sleep at night and while I enjoyed the stories, I grew out of them as children often do. My sister never did.

There was one story in particular that caught my sister’s imagination. How the dead are never truly gone and that when a person dies, the lady welcomes them with open arms into the endless skies and they become a light themselves. They become a small ray of hope in the sky for all to see, on even the darkest of nights. When all hope is gone, the light of some loved one long ago is there to bring it back. She thought it was beautiful.

I suppose that’s why after mom was taken from us and the endless storms ravaged our village, my sister decided all hope was lost. And that was why, she decided to become that hope herself…

Journal of a Sailor

may 6th. male perspective.

another perspective of this story will be coming soon, to answer some unresolved questions.

June 19th

It’s been months since we’ve seen land and the waves only seem to be getting higher. I’ve seen storms  before but never one like this. The current is controlled by the Lady of the Moon but she’s forsaken us to the unruly tempest. We’ll die before long. The crew is breaking out into fights and the captain is losing his grip. I fear mutiny is brewing. Just yesterday I walked in on five of the crew having a conversation. It seemed normal except they grew quiet as I approached and denied any conversation at all. If we manage to survive the waves it’ll be a miracle but if all of us make it through alive after a mutiny… well, the truth of the matter is we won’t.

June 21st

The waves are running us ragged. Land was sighted just hours ago but it turned out to be a false alarm. The rest of the crew nearly threw the man overboard for his mistake. I barely managed to save him. He’s in my bunk sleeping now, I let him have it. He’s safer in the cabins away from the crew but that means I’m sleeping in the crew’s quarters now. The man beside me is the one they call Bone, I don’t know why and something tells me I don’t want to.

June 29th

It’s out there. The lookout spotted its shadow just beneath the waves. Of course, all sailors and pirates alike have heard the stories. A great monster hunts these waters and some even say that his breath alone can create the waves that have been battering our ship. I can only hope the stories aren’t true. The fear is spreading through the crew like a disease, uncontrolled and contagious. One man looked over the edge and saw something and it sent him into a rambling fit. He’s been in the bunker for a few days and we still can’t understand what he’s been trying to say. The word ‘pet’ is the only one we’ve managed to decipher. It doesn’t make sense but the ravings of a mad man rarely do.

July 3rd

Calm. Crystal blue waters and a light, gentle breeze. The captain calls it the eye of the storm. It doesn’t seem like there’s a storm in sight, unless you count the one on the ship. Dissent is continuing despite the lack of fifteen foot waves. I don’t think the captain can pull back from this one. At least we aren’t going to die by thousands of pounds of water crashing down on us.

July 7th

A man went missing last night. At this rate, there won’t be any working crew members before long. The rest of the crew blames the captain but I don’t think there was anything he could have done. Besides, it was my fault. The man, Rains, was on watch with me. I thought I heard something and I went to check and then he was gone, with only a soft splash to let me know. It was hours before I could bring myself to admit it to the captain. I’m supposed to be his second hand, but I keep letting him down

July 15th

The Lady of the Moon is favoring us now. The captain said we should be out of the eye, but the ocean is as still as ever. I guess that’s why the crew is waiting. But I can feel their anger and mistrust,  it looms over the ship like a bad omen. The chances of a watery grave are getting greater by the day.

July 17th

It’s my fault. He slipped from my fingers. The crew patted me on the back saying it wasn’t my fault but I could see their smiles. They were happy the captain was gone and that it was my fault. I saved them the trouble of doing it themselves. I suppose I should be in charge but I knew the fight was pointless. Jett is in charge now, a surly man with a quick temper. I stay out of his way, which isn’t too hard now that he’s taken the captain’s cabin.

July 25th

There was a person in the water, I’m sure of it. Jett laughed at me, calling me a dreamer. I know what I saw though, two human eyes staring at me from under the light waves. At first I thought the person was dead but the eyes blinked, or I think they did. Maybe Jett’s right, maybe I’m just dreaming, or maybe the endless sight of water has addled my brain.

August 5th

I saw the shadow again but I didn’t tell Jett. He’d probably call me a dreamer again. At night I sit up and think about the captain and how I let him down but I think I heard someone speak to me. A soft, whispery voice that seemed to follow a melody I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I looked but there was no one there.

August 29th

It’s been so long since I wrote in my journal and so much has happened. There was a person in the water and she finally showed herself. I think she was frightened as she watched me but she didn’t understand when I said I wouldn’t hurt her. Every night I volunteer for a watch shift and I sit, waiting. She comes most nights and yesterday she drifted closer. I nearly screamed as I saw the glittering tail. A mermaid, a sailor’s dream and nightmare. I’d heard the good, the bad and the ugly. Yet there she was, innocent and leaning up against the hull of the boat with a soft smile. Beautiful. She spoke but in a strange tongue I couldn’t understand.

September 3rd

English. I don’t know how or why but she’s learning to communicate with me. Slowly, she learns phrases and tries to talk to me. I think she wants to tell me something important but she just doesn’t know enough yet. The crew are starting to act strangely and I’m afraid they’ve found out about her. I’ll have to be more careful.

September 21st

They’ve attacked us! She told me they would. At first I didn’t understand, she used the word ‘fight’ over and over and then the word ‘pet’. She heard the mad man say it but it didn’t make any more sense. Until the fin broke the water. I thought it was a shark and I was almost right. The creatures were unlike anything I’ve ever seen. They resembled a mermaid with a sharks body for their tail but their teeth were long and sharp and their noses protruded sharply outward. It was a terrifying sight and two of the men were taken in the fight. After, she learned the word for ‘enemy’ and I understand. The mermaids and these creatures are at war and we’re caught in the middle.

October 4th

The giant shadow is back and last night the mermaid came to me. She used the word ‘pet’ again but her english isn’t good enough to make me understand. With a narrow hand, she waved at me, pointing in the water and saying “come”. I have the feeling she wants me to run but I don’t think she understands that I can’t breathe underwater like her.

October 11th

We woke up to find the ship burning. Where would fire come from out at sea? I’ve decided to go with her. The ship is done for and the men are desperate. Those things are still out there and so is the monster. Maybe I’ll die, but right now, the wait for another attack is already killing me.

October 21st

She came and brought a dolphin with her, I think for me to ride. The monster is coming, I can feel the waves growing stronger and rocking the already destroyed boat. It looks like… sweet mercy. We’re all going to die.

Masks

may 5th. neutral perspective.

The dead eyes and vacant smiles. Of course they laugh, covering it all up with a sad imitation of real happiness. Everyone passes them by, walking on without even looking. Maybe they didn’t want to look for fear of what they would find. Me, I hesitate, stopping just beside them. They stare back at me, fake smiles plastered on their overly made up lips. Like a ghost, a phantom of truth, the pain wavers just behind their masks. It’s there, but everyone acts like it isn’t. Leaning closer, I whisper, “I see you”.

They’re the elite of my society and I’m the scum. Yet as the panic flashes in their eyes, I smile. To speak out against the lies was unheard of. Yes, here, they feared the truth. For what would become of their perfect lives if the fallacy was exposed? They lived in high towers, lording their riches above those of us in the streets who look on with envy. Not me. I look on them and see heartbreak, a prison of their own making. Their high towers and fancy customs, limiting them and restricting them to the life they’ve always had.

Wealth and power are trappings of a sad soul. My tattered clothes and dirty face are signs of life. That river? Yes, I’ve crossed it. Those people? Yes, they’re my friends. That house? I built it with my own hands. And my heart? I’ve given it away to the one person who understands me better than I do. They have money, they buy and spend. But the truest things in life can’t be bought. So I’m sorry, for the experiences they’ll never have, for the life they’ll never live.

The Visit

may 4th. female perspective.

I listened to the messages on the answering machine and froze, fear coursing through me as the third message played. It had only taken them three weeks to find me! I was supposed to be safe here, he had promised me…

With shaking fingers I dialed the only number I had ever memorized. There would be a way to fix this, he would know.

“Hardison Incorporated, how can I assist you?”

“This is your fault. They’ve found me again, I have to get out of here. It’s not safe anymore.” My eyes darted around wildly, scanning the room for any sign of movement. “Please, you have to do something.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, you must have the wrong number.”

“Don’t lie to me! Reynolds gave me this number in case of an emergency. I know he’s there, put him on the phone. Reynolds will help, he promised.” I repeated it quietly to myself. Yes, he promised. Reynolds wouldn’t leave me here. He wouldn’t let them take me.

“There’s no one by that name here, ma’am.” She sounded sorry, sorry for me, and it only made me angrier. Why would she lie about this? They must have gotten to her, must have gotten to the agency.

“No, he’s there! Put him on the phone!”

The line went dead, but there was no dial tone to break the silence. They’d cut the land line. I was alone and trapped and they were here. No way out, no help on the way.

The front door creaked as it opened. It always creaked. The repair man had asked if I wanted it oiled but it was the only way to know if someone was there. It was my last alarm system. Turning, I bolted into my room and dove into the closet, shutting off the light.

Hide and seek had been my favorite game as a kid but now, the adrenaline didn’t bring the same shiver of excitement. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wrapped my arms around my legs. Don’t let them find me. Please…

The light turn on with a flash, a horrible sunburnt color against my eyelids. Shadows reached towards me and I opened my eyes. So much white. They were here. They hauled me from my one safe spot. Not so safe anymore. Struggling against the restraints, I could hear them speak. But I couldn’t understand, I could never understand.

He was there. Staring at me with vacant eyes, eyes that were usually so kind and full of warmth. “Reynolds! Help me, don’t let them take me. Not again…” I could feel the tears fall from my eyes but I didn’t care.

Reynolds shook his head and turn to a man on his right. “What triggered it?”

The man sighed. “A message from her family, they’re coming down to visit.”

“Cancel that…” He ran a hand over his tired face. “Should we sedate her again?”

“It’s your call, Dr. Reynolds.”

Scars of a Rebel (part 2)

may 3rd. male perspective. part two of two parts.

this story wore me out. I think tomorrow’s will be simpler, haha.

The court writer must have had fun writing the list of my crimes. Half of them were fabricated to such extremes that I laughed out loud. The noise startled the Commander, but after narrowing his eyes at me, he continued reading the falsehoods that would sentence me to death by hanging.

“And lastly this boy is charged with treason of the highest degree. He has been seen leading a ruthless pack of thugs in our streets, stealing your hard earned money and giving it to aid the Revolution, who is destroying our peaceful country.”

The triumph in his eyes was disgusting and yet he had the entire crowd enthralled, staring at me with eyes full of fear. Why were they trusting the words of this silver-tongued liar?

“Sadder still,” his voice grew thick and a single tear fell from his hard eyes, playing the people right into his hands. “He has confessed to murdering my daughter, Tessa. Should such a traitor be allowed to live?”

No longer was the crowd standing in stunned silence. They raised their fists and yelled loudly, making me flinch back away from him. Peace and mercy was the last thing from their minds as they spoke as if one, “The murderer deserves to hang!”

The Commander raised a hand and they fell into a respectful silence. “Tessa deserves to be avenged. I will not let the tragic end of her young life go unnoticed!” He turned to me with a vicious smile, hidden from the crowd. “No final words, eh boy?”

I eyed him silently.

Facing the crowd again, he put back on his mask of pain. “But his death will not suffice. He acted at the will of the Revolution! So the Revolution must pay dearly!”

A roar of agreement came up from the crowd. They were his, body and soul, and would do his bidding. Just weeks ago I had been in this very market place, listening to the talk of dissent and unhappiness. They hated this man but for the moment, they hated me more, for killing a girl they had loved. Only I hadn’t, but it was best the Commander thought so. I couldn’t come find you Tessa, but I hope you ran far away. The thought made me sigh in defeat.

He approached me again, walking with a confident swagger. Disgusting pig. I spat at his feet and watched with satisfaction as the surprise crossed his face, but it was soon replaced by a wicked smile. He raised his hand, motioning to a soldier.

“Bring out the rebel leader’s sister. She’ll hang beside him, as will the rest of the prisoner’s of war.”

“Helena…” The murdering coward, going after families when he wanted more power. No power would ever be enough for him and he would destroy our country because of it.

The Commander smiled. “Ah yes, such a darling little girl. She’s 15 now I believe and three years away from home…” He clicked his tongue mockingly. “Well, she isn’t the girl you remember but I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing your face as she drops to the hangman’s noose.”

They came silently, filing one after the other, ropes bound around their bleeding wrists. A long line stretched back to the dungeon’s entrance. It was a pitiful sight, women crying quietly, while the men walked with their heads held high, trying to maintain their dignity. Nothing could dignify the rotting stench that radiated from their tattered clothes and sickly bodies. At the front, a girl stood tall, holding the hands of two children, and though her hair was matted and ran long and her face was a ghostly pallor, I knew it was her. Helena.

“You wanted to save these people. And now they’ll die because of you.” The Commander shook his head. “The irony isn’t lost on you, I hope.”

“What monster smiles at the death of hundreds?”

No answer. Instead, the Commander turned from me and motioned the guards to subdue the angry crowd. At that instant, chaos broke out. The bound ropes fell from thin wrists and every man, woman, and child pulled what looked to be forks and spoons from beneath their clothes. They would fight, when all else looked impossible. I fought against my own restraints, but the soldier behind me placed a hand on me. I stopped. I was well guarded, even if the line of prisoners were not. Such a fool, the Commander, to call the guards away from the prisoners to deal with the crowd. He hadn’t expected a fight from the people he declared weak.

Cries of pain mingled with the panic that swept through the unruly crowd. I glimpsed my sister running, shielding the children from the sight of blood. Soldiers pulled their swords and in only seconds, the prisoners were on their knees. The last flame of hope within me died.

“Fools! That pathetic attempt to escape was laughable.” He pointed a finger at the soldiers. “Get them up on the platform and begin securing the ropes. I don’t want anymore interruptions!”

Their spirit was finally broken. For so long they’d suffered in the dungeons and now it was coming to an end. My rope was the first one to be fitted. The coarse material rubbed against my neck as they tightened the loop. It was enough to slowly cut off my breathing without the hanging. On down the line the soldiers slipped the ropes over the heads of prisoners. Together we’d die. Was it wrong to be thankful that at least it would be together? I was thinking like a coward. I should die alone and yet I had condemned all of these people to their deaths.

“Stop!” A singular shout rose from the yells of the crowd. “Listen to me!”

My eyes searched the masses, but there was no one. Just a voice that continued to insistently plead with people to listen. They wouldn’t heed the cries. The crowd thirsted for my blood, for the blood of the prisoners and they wouldn’t be quieted. Above the heads of the rest of the people, a girl appeared, balancing precariously on the shoulders of a hooded figure.

“Does a father give up so easily on his daughter?” She cupped her hands around her mouth, projecting her voice over the raucous taunts. “Does he declare her dead and gone without looking?”

Finally, attention turned to her and the crowd fell into an astonished silence.

“You spin such terrible stories, and yet the people you.” Tessa looked down at the crowd with a frown. “You believe the man you hated. For me? You think to kill in the name of my death?” Throwing her hands up, she let out a frustrated cry. “Do I look dead to you? He has turned you against yourselves and against the people that you once sympathized with.”

The Commander stepped forward at that, his eyes wide with rage. The crowd barely spared him a glance and it only seemed to anger him further. “He confessed to it! He is the liar. Of course I wanted you to be found safely, my dear.” He tried to soften his voice at this, tried to look happy to find her well. No one believed the act.

“He is the traitor!” “A coward!” “A liar that didn’t even check to see if his daughter was alive!” Jeers rang from the crowd and they began to push forward, against the startled soldiers who glanced back unsurely at their leader. The guards were swept away in the surge towards the platform, with outstretched hands the people came after the Commander like rabid animals. Yes, they would have their blood.

“Pull the lever!” The Commander’s desperate cry landed on deaf ears. The soldiers had their own things to worry about. Letting out a savage growl of anger, he lunged toward the lever, wrapping his hand around it and yanking it back.

Fear clouded my mind and I thrashed in panic. Hope crushed once to be reborn is a miracle. But surely hope crushed twice can never live again. The platform beneath me collapsed and I plummeted down, knowing I would hit the end of the rope in mere seconds. My eyes slid shut. 1… 2… I smacked against the ground and let out a muffled cry. A coil of rope landed beside me, the thing that should have killed me, lying their innocently.

“Am I late?”

I glanced up. “Right on time, Tray.”

“I try.” Reaching down an arm, he hauled me back up onto the platform.

Facing the mob of people, I smiled. The guards on the platform are being soundly defeated and the prisoners are being helped, ropes being removed from around their necks. We could win this, we could finally be free of the tyranny and destruction brought by the Commander.

“Reinforcements!” The soldiers let out a cheer as a flood of horses rushed in through the northern gates. The trumpeting call of war swept through the crowd and a groan of despair echoed through the market. At the head of the new charge was the disgraced general. The man who started this all!

With a backward glance, I leapt from the platform and charged, stopping only long enough to pick up a sword from a fallen soldier’s hand. “You lying, traitorous, filth! Face me!”

With a condescending smile, he dropped from his horse and extended his sword. “I delivered the Commander to you on a silver platter and yet you couldn’t deal the death blow. You could have ended this war and I would have fought at your side.”

“You’ll be arrested for coming back, so why come?”

“I spoke honestly to you before. The capture of you would have meant nothing. But you took his daughter as a hostage and suddenly, there was an opportunity to redeem myself.” He held out his arms and motioned to the chaos surrounding us. “This is your doing. The work of a coward.”

I looked around, seeing the desperation on so many faces. We were losing… again. Fear shot through the crowd like electricity and they began to fall back, cowering in front of the soldier’s they had almost defeated.

“We’ll make short work of the prisoners. But you’ll be the first to die!” The general stepped forward, swinging his sword.

Desperately, I jerked up my own weapon. The impact of steel on steel jarred the hilt from my grasp and it clattered to the ground.

“It’s Miquelle!”

I recognized Tray’s voice, but the shout startled the general. Dropping to the ground, I pivoted on my foot and stretched out my leg. The general landed on his back with a satisfying thud. No time to deal with him. I picked up my sword and dashed to Tray’s side.

“What happened to Miquelle?” I gasped the words out, sweat dripping in my eyes as I squinted at him.

He grinned widely. “Look.”

Turning from him, I focused my attention on the southern gate. The wooden frame quivered and shook with the steady pounding from the other side. Something was coming in! With a deafening crash, the worn wood gave to the pressure and burst inward, leaving a gaping hole at its center. Calvary and foot soldiers entered through the gate. Why would he be happy about the arrival of more reinforcements?

I looked closer and only then did I see the shaggy black hair and bright smile of Miquelle. He’d brought the Revolution army. The men beat on their shields and charged into the fray, sweeping through the battle weary defenses. The Commander’s soldiers stared at the incoming men and with a collective shout, raised their weapons.

There wasn’t anymore time to watch. A soldier ran towards me and I was lost in the steady motion of swing, cut, dodge, jump. The methodic motion of the sword lulled me into an adrenaline focused state. No soldier I fought was left standing, though I couldn’t bring myself to kill any of them. Their lives were worth just as much as mine. I cut my way back toward the general. He wouldn’t get away, not if I could help it.

“General!” I felt the yell rip from my hoarse throat.

He turned to me, the same unnerving smirk on his lips. I was stopped only feet from him, two soldiers had stepped from their own fights and grabbed my arms, holding me back.

“Duke.” He shook his head. “You can’t even get this right. Messing up on the little things, just like your father.”

I struggled against the soldiers but they held fast. “What does my father have to do with you?”

He smiled. “Figure it out.”

The story had been told to me enough times that I could recall it in an instant. My father had served as an unwilling spy for the Commander but something had gone wrong, he’d messed up or betrayed them. The details had never been given to me. He’d been killed for it. Killed by the Commander’s personal assassin. Killed by…

Blind rage tore through me and I let myself drop in the hands of the soldiers. The shock gave me an instant. I brought my arms up and then back, twisting theirs in the process and shoving them away from me. With the only thing nearby being a knife, I grabbed it and  lunged.

Bright blue eyes stared into mine and I stopped my hand, with the knife inches from her neck. Just like before, the thought flashed through my mind. “You said you would never kill.”

I looked over her shoulder. A Revolution soldier had captured the general, holding him firmly with a knife pressed to his side. “He killed my father.”

“So you will kill him and that will bring your father back?”

“No. But he deserves it!”

She frowned. “That’s a child’s excuse.” She grabbed my wrist and jerked the knife away from me. I stared at her. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. “The Revolution has won, Duke. We’re free. But if you kill that man I will lock you in the dungeon myself.”

“I can’t let him… win.”

“He hasn’t.”

Her smile was warm but I stared past it. Pretty words couldn’t take away the pain that knowledge had inflicted. It was better for my father’s killer to be faceless, nameless, a creature of darkness that had been summoned for evil. Then I could hate it and kill it. But he was just a man…

“He hasn’t.” I repeated.

“Daniel of Charron.”

I turned towards the voice and corrected, “Duke.”

“Duke,” The elderly man nodded his assent. “You’re the rebel leader?”

“No.”

“Am I mistaken? Is there another Duke I’m unaware of?” He said.

“I’m not a leader.”

“The Revolution would beg to disagree. The war has been won, thanks in part to you and your boys.” He motioned to the destruction as if it was a thing to be proud of. “I’ve come to give you a reward. A place of prestige in the Revolution’s army and a place at the new Commander’s table.”

Another Commander. Would he be as cruel as the last? The cycle would never end. Another man would always rise up, thirsty for power and willing to destroy lives to get it. “I’m done with war and death.”

“I see, then accept our thanks.”

I nodded stiffly and watched him walk away. Tessa placed a hand on my shoulder and I turned towards her.

“Cheer up, the worst is over.” She smiled and leaned forward to kiss my cheek.

“Daniel!” A squeal rose above the noise.

My heart stopped. That voice, one that I hadn’t heard in over three years. It had changed, but it was still her. I turned and for a moment, the pain and anger slipped away and I smiled. “Helena!” I opened my arms and she rushed into them, throwing her arms around me and squeezing as if she would never let go.

“I always knew we’d be a family again.”

I ruffled her hair and pushed her away to look at her. “Fifteen and all grown up. Dad would have been proud.”

Her smile faded. “He’s gone. I know he is.”

“You heard?”

“From one of the other prisoners.” She nodded. “But I have you. Can we go home then, to Charron?”

“No, not to Charron. The town is full of painful memories.” After dad died, they had run me from town, saying there was no room for a homeless orphan, a beggar on their streets. “Somewhere new, away from the war. We’ll take Tray, Miquelle, Carter and Po. Everyone.” At that, I glanced back, meeting Tessa’s eyes. I held out a hand and she took it with a smile.

“But isn’t the war ending?” Helena asked.

“Wounds take time to heal and the war has left so many. The Revolution leaves scars, Len, and I have my fair share of them.” I looked around at the devastation. The Commander was being hauled away to the dungeons, along with the remainder of his men. “It’s time to move on.”

Scars of a Rebel (part 1)

may 2nd. male perspective. part one of two parts.

Finished just in time. 30 minutes before midnight, haha.

“Stop thief!”

That was our universal cue to start running. With the adrenaline induced smile that was always nearby, I glanced back at our pursuers. The men were hefty and further weighed down by the armor they had needlessly worn. Already red in the face and dropping further and further behind us. Miquelle had been right when he proposed we drop by this town first. It was easy pickings as far as we were concerned.

“And they near the bend with not a guard in sight!” Tray jumped in victory, pumping his fist in the air as he narrated their escape.

I grinned. “Don’t get cocky, I think I see reinforcements coming.”

A group of guards stepped out from behind the corner where they’d been waiting. They wore those sadistic smiles, as if they were assured of their victory. Our group split and instantly the guards were dashing towards us in a frenzied confusion. Ducking down and swinging my leg out, I felt the rather large guard trip over me. One down, twenty to go. With a laugh, I sprang back to my feet lightly and nimbly shot out of reach from the other guards.

“Too slow!” I taunted. Eyes narrowing I ran faster, jumping on a barrel situated by a market stand and swinging up to the thin roof. I bounced up and down and smiled. It’ll hold. Nothing was better than a day of outwitting the guards.

A hand wrapped around my ankle and I yelped as I plummeted back to the ground. Spoke to soon. With a grunt I shoved the chest of my attacker. He didn’t budge. Grinning up at him impishly, I winked, just before his eyes widened in surprise and he toppled over. I stepped out of his way as he fell. Where the man had just stood was a four foot tall boy with a crooked smile, one tooth missing as he grinned up at me.

“Thatta boy, Carter.” I ruffled his hair, scooping him up and darting back out of the town, letting off a shrill whistle to single the other boys.

The run was a long one back to camp but I managed it at a decent pace and soon enough the familiar outline of the trees could be seen. A wisp of smoke curled above the treetops. No one was supposed to be at the camp. I was the oldest and fastest in our group, no one could have reached it before I did. I raised a finger to my lips, motioning Carter to be quiet. He nodded and I crept forward. Light on my feet and careful to not make a sound, I peered around the trees, squinting as I tried to discern the hooded figure that sat comfortably, tending our fire. I gritted my teeth and with my one free hand, pulled a knife from my belt.

No one had the right to invade my territory, not my camp or any other place I decided was mine! I crept up beside the man, at this point I was fairly certain it was a man. Readying my knife, I reached forward.

“Quite a nice establishment you’ve managed to set up. A bit homey for my tastes.”

With a growl, I leapt forward but he moved just as I did, as if he knew what I had planned to do before I did. My momentum propelled me toward the fire but a sharp tug on my clothes kept me suspended to where the heat of the flames fanned my face and brightened brown eyes.

“A hasty decision, attacking before asking any questions.” His voice held the dry amusement that I hated. I bristled at the tone but his chiding voice cut off my irate thoughts. “Perhaps you’d like to hear my proposition before angering me further?”

With a grunt, I pivoted on my foot, smacking away the arm that had held me away from the fire. “What do you want, stranger?”

“Your services.” The flicker of the flames cast off only enough light to see the wry smile that twisted his thin lips. Nothing irritated me more than hoods. Who knew what people were hiding under those unsightly things?

“The hood comes down, then we talk.”

A commotion to the side distracted me for a moment, just as the group barreled back into the small clearing. They were talking loudly, grinning and rattling their pouches filled with coins. Today would have been a good day, save for the stranger across from me.

“Hey, Duke, we found Carter. Were you planning on leaving him there?” Miquelle didn’t bother looking up as he spoke, rattling his coins with satisfaction. The rest of the boys grew quiet and finally Miquelle glanced up. “I didn’t realize we were having company…”

“We aren’t.” I glared at the man and motioned for the boys to be silent.

Carefully, as though he was trying to make the time tick by as slowly as possible, the stranger removed his hood. An average, middle-aged man, nothing remarkable in his features. I peered at him more closely. No, there was something unique. The gold earring in his left ear.

“What service does the disgraced right-hand man to the Commander need so badly that he should come to the likes of us?”

He smiled, that greasy smile that I had long since discovered must be perfected to make it in the world of politics. I wasn’t interested in politics. Men like him were good for nothing. They sat in a domed room for hours every day discussing theories and yet making no move to act upon their ideas. They were the reason for the war and they were the reason me and my gang worked for the Revolution. Cowards and snakes, the lot of them!

“The Commander is a cruel man,” he started with a slow, rhythmic quality to his voice. I hated him for it. “Surely you of all people know that is the truth.”

Grudgingly, I nodded. “Everyone knows. Do you intend to stand here and blather on about commonly held facts?”

“I am in exile by his decree, but not so long ago that I don’t still have a means to secure my own revenge.”

“Leave us out of your personal plots,” I narrowed my eyes, disgusted. “We have no desire to be pawns in your game.”

There it was again, that loathsome smile. “Ah, but if you help me, I can give you what you want so desperately.

“You know nothing of what I want.”

“You want an end to this war and you want the Revolution to succeed,” his eyes darkened and he stared at me silently for a moment. “For the sake of your sister.”

How dare he speak of her! I lunged at him with bared teeth, slashing outwardly with my knife. He stepped back calmly, as thought expecting my reaction.

“Calm yourself, Daniel of Charron.”

The boys behind me began to whisper. Daniel. I had abandoned the name long ago. I stepped closer to the man but lowered by knife. “Daniel is dead, if you wish to make your proposition to Duke, then I will hear it.”

“The Commander will be riding through you woods within the hour. He comes by nightfall to avoid the news of his arrival, but you have enough time to intercept him. With him he brings the keys you will need to enter his dungeons and free the prisoners of war. And of course, to kill the commander would end the opposition, in favor of the Revolution.” Folding his arms across his chest, he regarded me, his long fingers tapping lightly against the clothe of his black cloak.

“You lie.”

“Not so, Duke.” He grinned at me. “I have no reason to lie. If you were caught, a pack of boys from the forest will do little to win back the good name I have lost. So I have nothing to gain, except the death of that man who has ruined me.”

I signaled to the rest of the boys and they began walking away from the fire. “Where will he be?”

“To the west, near the Wooded crossing.”

“Should any of us be harmed. I will hunt you down myself.” The threat was enough, because I would make good on it should soothing happen. Turning on my heel, I followed after the boys, into the darkening woods.

We remained silent for the span of the trip, talking only through casual hand signs. Finally, we crouched and lay in wait for the carriage that would carry the Commander. My sister was so close, I felt like I could reach out and touch her. Soon enough, Helena, soon enough I’ll find you, just like I promised I always would. A ghost of a smile flickered over my worn features. I could already hear her teasing voice when she would see me again,

‘So old looking, for someone so young. I do believe you’ve aged a hundred years in the three we’ve been apart.’

I’d been fourteen when she was taken away from us. They’d claimed it was as insurance, to make sure my father kept his promise to spy for them on the Revolution. For a year it had worked that way, till they felt he had slighted them in some way. Then they had taken the last family member I had and there was no returning from where he went. But Helena, she was still alive, locked away in the Commander’s dungeons, because they hadn’t wanted to be bothered with finding the cell she was in. Otherwise she would be dead too.

A carriage’s wheels creaked, breaking the dead silence and tearing me from my thoughts. The Commander had arrived. To the left I could make out the dim glow of a lantern light as the driver tried to maneuver the horses away from the ditch. Wooded crossing was dangerous at night. I grinned, a savage smile that twisted my lips painfully. He would pay for the pain he had inflicted on my family.

With a quick hand signal, we descended silently towards the carriage, like shadows in the night, seen for only a moment and then gone. It took only moments before the carriage had rocked to a stop, with Miquelle’s knife held precariously against the neck of the driver. He nodded, his young face grim.

I jerked open the door with a snarl. “For the Revolution!”

A knife extended towards me but I backhanded the Commander’s wrist and it went flying. Turning, I latched onto his arm and twisted it firmly till he cried out hoarsely. Pinning his other arm against the side of the carriage, I smiled. “The keys, Commander?”

His eyes darted down to his pocket and with a smirk, I reached in and snagged them deftly.

“Don’t hurt me!”

The cry made me pause. The Commander would not whimper like a pathetic child. Not unless he was playing to some end game. The barely audible hiss of metal warned me in time to turn and grab the thin arm of a girl, who held it in a shaking hand. Her pale blue eyes were wide with fear but even in the light I could tell her for a beauty. His daughter.

With a grunt, the Commander shoved me forward. She was my age, but it was necessary. I grabbed her snugly around the waist and spun so that she landed on top of me, between myself and her father. “Me or the girl, Commander? Let me go or she’ll be the first blood to fall tonight, but not the last.”

“Go.” The resignation in his voice made me hesitate, but I slipped out the carriage door nonetheless and shut it behind me.

“We have what we came for, go!” I let out the shrill whistle and the boys moved back up the hill. The girl watched me with a wary gaze. It was too soon to let her go. Maybe once I had crested the hill or still farther, maybe down the trail, when I was safely away from her father. Surely she could find him again. I wouldn’t hurt, it was something I had never done nor did I think, I could ever do.

She was petite and it was easy enough to sling her over my shoulder and take off, listening to the shouts of her father as he chewed out his guards for letting us get away. I grunted. Small as she was, the pounding of her fists on my back were starting to hurt.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “I’ll let you go soon enough.”

She listened. Why? Maybe she was just afraid of me. I was hoping that was the answer. Perhaps she was her father’s daughter and she only had a new plan, another trick up her sleeve.

We were far enough at this point, but with her added weight the boys were well ahead of me. I set her down and she stared at me, defiance in her bright eyes. She would have been a pretty sight, with the moonlight setting her hair aglow, if not for the scowl that she fixed on me.

“It was death for me or a hostage.” I shrugged, my smile returning to me. A victory had been won tonight, no matter the cost.

“You’ll begin to wish you had picked death.” She set her hands on her hip, causing a flash of white to grab my attention. I reached forward and she stepped back.

“Scars.”

She glanced down, looking at her arms. “Scars.” She agreed.

I sighed. “And where did you get them?”

“I don’t recall a life story being a part of the hostage situation.”

“Bruises as well.” Now that I had noticed them, I couldn’t look away. Dark purple mixed with unnatural shades of yellow, they mottled her otherwise porcelain skin.

The defiance began to die in her eyes. “Yes…” Self-consciously she raised a hand and covered the worst of them, as if that could hide them.

My hands tightened into fists. “Your father.” Snake. Slime. Dirt. The lowest of the low that would hit an innocent, that would hurt someone so delicate. “He’s evil.”

“You’re like him.”

The comment came so abruptly that I stumbled back as if struck. “No!” I yelled the word out and she flinched. My shoulders slumped and I stared at the ground. “No. He enjoys the suffering, I want to end it.”

“Do they not both have the same result? My father’s methods and yours, for all the different motives, end in death.”

“No one died tonight.” I protested.

“You don’t plan to kill me? You wouldn’t have killed him?”

I raised my hand, dangling the prize. “His death would win the war for the Revolution. But I am not an assassin. I got what I came for.”

“The keys.”

“Once I have freed the prisoners, they can help us win the war. But I will not kill, I cannot.”

“All men can kill.” She ran a hand over her scars. “All men cause pain.”

She was wrong. Maybe that was all she had ever seen, but she was and for an unexplainable reason, I wanted to prove it to her. “No.”

“Yes.” She looked up at me, her eyes dangerous. “Even you. Threatening my life and dragging me out into the middle of nowhere.” A tear slipped from her eye and fell down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily. “Tell me, what is it you plan to do? You say you won’t kill me, but what other plans do you have?”

“None…”

“Then return me to my father.”

“I cannot. You can find him on your own.” I turned away from her but a hand closed around my wrist. I grabbed my knife and spun around. The tip stopped an inch from her collarbone.

“You say you won’t kill, but what other type of man reacts so violently?”

I leaned closer, till my face was only inches from hers. “The kind who has been hunted.”

“And will you leave me to be hunted? Being alone in the woods is dangerous for a girl.”

“To return you to your father would mean my death. Stay here, or come with me to my home. The choice is yours.”

She tilted her head and I realized with a shock that we still stood only inches apart. “I will come.” With that, she stepped back.

Shaking off the stupor our close proximity had brought, I grunted. “Fine.”

We wound through the trees, her always a few steps behind me, like a human shadow. The feeling of being followed was troubling, but I kept it in check and soon enough we made it to camp. The boys greeted my arrival with a round of cheering. But they stopped as soon as they saw her.

“You brought a lass with ya?” Po stared at her curiously, nudging her with a chubby finger. She raised a hand to cover her lips and for a moment I worried she was scared. Was the girl frightened of everything? Then I saw the laughter in her eyes.

“She’ll stay till morning light and then be gone.” I fixed her with my best intimidating stare. She smiled in turn.

Scowling at her lack of fear, I walked to my own tent and crawled inside, laying on my back. If I shut my eyes, maybe the day would be over and I could return to a form of normalcy. I hadn’t felt normal for three years. Not since Helena. I smiled, soon enough.

A shadow fell over my tent and I gripped my knife. The girl poked her head into my tent with a sheepish smile.

“I’ve no where to sleep.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” I raised an eyebrow, but I had a feeling the look wasn’t working as she continued to eye me expectantly. “Fine. Take my tent, I’ll sleep outside.” With a huff, I stood up and motioned her in.

“I had a friend once, like you. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be around someone and not be afraid.” The smile was back and with her bright eyes I nearly forgot to respond.

“Yeah well, I still have my knife. Don’t get too comfortable.” Disgruntled, I made a bed for myself on the ground and finally laid back with a sigh. Too many things had happened today and night was a blessing.

Morning still came though and far quicker than I would have liked.

“Duke!” A voice yelled in my ear and either an earthquake had hit, or the same person was also shaking me.

“What?” I grumbled.

“The Commander’s men are coming!”

At that, I bolted upright and grabbed my knife. Before long I was on my feet and barking out orders to the rest of the boys. They shuffled tiredly, wiping the sleep from their eyes and nodding vacantly. What if they hadn’t heard anything I’d said? We’d trained so long for a moment like this and yet we were caught unawares. No! I wouldn’t let this happen.

I stepped into my tent. She was still sleeping. How the girl could sleep in this commotion was beyond me. I knelt beside her. “Wake up, your father will be here any minute. Maybe I’ll return you to him after all.”

Her eyes opened and she stared up at me silently.

“Get up, before I haul you up myself.”

Her voice came out as a broken whisper, “You can’t let him take me.”

“He’s your father, I think he’s going to take you whether you like it or not.”

The news was obviously not welcome. Tears filled her eyes and my own widened in alarm. I had things to deal with and an emotional girl was not at the top of my list!

“Hide me.” She wrapped her arms around herself and my gaze caught on the bruises and scars, a record of the past.

I grit my teeth. I’d only known the girl for a day. But she needed help. Wasn’t that why I had started this crusade? To help people. All the boys in my gang had been homeless because of the Commander’s cruelty. I’d taken them in. Was I going to leave her out just because she was a girl?

“Don’t let him…”

Yanking a knife from my belt I flipped it so I could hand it to her hilt first. “Protect yourself. Go south and hide. I’ll find you, I promise.” I hesitated and then pulled the keys from the pouch at my waist. “Take the keys too.”

She nodded, grabbing the knife and keys and running from the tent. Shaking off the moment, I stepped back outside to face the situation. The boys were in position. I climbed up the hill and settled into a crouch. The men were already marching toward the camp.

A cry of alarm sounded and I glanced over to my left. Carter… He was meant to be hiding, not aiding in our defense. A misstep had sent him tumbling down the hill, directly in the path of the soldiers. With a war cry, I sprinted down the hill. The men glanced up, startled by my yell. Give me enough time, just enough time to save him. I got to him seconds before the soldiers, only long enough to put myself between them. I signaled and Carter turned and started running. The soldiers made no move to chase him.

Slowly, the door to the carriage behind the men opened. The Commander stepped out, arrayed in the jewels bought with the blood of hundreds. Murderer. Thief. Abuser. I hurled the insults in my mind, remaining in my fighting stance. He chuckled as he saw me.

“Where are the keys?” He was toying with me, I could feel it.

I remained quiet, but that only seemed to amuse him further.

“And my daughter?”

This time I smiled. “The hostages I take don’t live.”

“Oh, so an assassin then. Here I thought you were a common thief. How much more exciting. Now I don’t have to bother with imprisonment, I can just hang you for your crimes. Quite convenient really.”

“Then the keys would be lost to you for good.”

He shrugged. “Spares can be made. We have a locksmith for such matters.”

The backup plans were failing. I was done.

“But a public hanging of the man who killed my daughter. A leader of a band of renegades hired by the Revolution. Quite a story and just what I need to turn the public in my favor.” He smiled at my surprise. “Oh you thought no one would care? Well, the public may not like me, but they adored my darling Tessa.”

Tessa. So that was her name, funny how I’d never thought to ask. Not that it would matter now.

“It was really the only reason I kept her around. But this works nicely. Thank you so very much.” Raising a hand, he signaled to his soldiers.

I could hear the crunch of leaves and desperately, I put a hand behind my back, warning the boys off. They would die and I wouldn’t let them go down with me.

The soldiers made short work of the ropes used to tie me up, then they tied the end of the rope to the back of the carriage. I was to be the amusement on the ride back, but nothing would be worse than what would happen when I reached my destination.

I dropped my head, blinking back the tears from the dust of the carriage. Two promises now. I’ll find you. I promise. I’m sorry Helena. I’m sorry Tessa. Another day and I wouldn’t be able to find anyone.

 

WATCHER OF THE SKIES

First story of the month! (the sites timezone is apparently several hours ahead of me. It’s only 9:50 pm my time)

Female perspective

She was a shy, timid woman with large doe eyes that my father always seemed to see dollar signs in. There was nothing special about her, nothing that I hadn’t seen a thousand times over. The casual swish of the hair as she walked, the slow blink as she took in the tiered candles that cast gloomy shadows over the gaudy purple drapes. Even the widened gaze as she saw me, sitting behind the clear orb, as though it was something magical and not the mere prop I had made with my own hands.

“The young mistress wishes to know of her future?” My voice came out in a well-rehearsed rasp. My father always smiled, that condescending grin that told me he knew better, ‘Tourists want the feel of authenticity. Give it to them, Nina.’ “I am Nadya, come, sit.”

Like the good woman she was, she shuffled to the low table, sitting awkwardly on the pillow that had been so carefully placed. My eyes caught on the gleam of silver beneath her cloak. Promising. Silver meant money. Perhaps the stranger was richer than she appeared. Doe eyes turned to me but she still made no move to speak.

I smiled, raising a single hand and waving it in a gentle swaying motion over the glass ball. A light glimmered at its center and my mouth quirked in a smirk, as my other hand, hidden beneath the folds of the table cloth tapped gently on the worn button that was carved in the woodwork.

The theatrics had the desired effect. Her look of shock and awe brought the sharp pang of disgust. A little light within a block of glass and suddenly the pathetic child would hang on my every word. Were all people so easily fooled as she and the thousands I had fooled before? My hand tightened into a fist, kohl blackened eyelids lowering as my eyes jerked uncontrollably beneath them.

A whispered murmur came from her parted lips, fear widening her soft eyes. “What’s happening? What do you see?”

My lips formed the familiar chant, a mixture of languages that I both knew by heart and yet cared nothing for. Jerking my arms up, I could hear the gasp. Timed in sequence, I knew my cues, the gentle clicking of the grandfather clock to my left. The slight change in tone as the light glowed still brighter, in time with the fervent words of my chanting. I could feel the smoke thicken in the room, stale and unwelcome, stifling as my hot breath flew rapidly from between my painted lips.

“What is it?” Her voice was panicked, cutting into my mindless chatter.

I stopped, eyes closed tightly, feeling her tension and expectation as if I could reach out and touch it. My hands dropped limply to my side and my eyes fluttered open, relishing the knowledge of the picture I had so meticulously crafted. With the natural ink-stain black of my hair, its gentle waves tumbling to my low back, I knew I appeared the perfect gypsy straight from the cliches. I’d heard the obsidian black of eyes referred to as soulless, as if the seeker was staring into the heart of the endless abyss.

“You come from a faraway place, and yet…” I paused, considering her with a faraway look in my eye, though no detail on her person went unnoticed. The patched and muddy boots that told of endless days of walking, the lines of darkened skin that surrounded her eyes, telling of the miserable heat in the face of the sun. Only nights could stave off such horrors and yet the scars that marked her body said that the nightmares had only just begun when darkness fell. “you are at home here, as though you’ve found something you have been searching long and hard for.” For why else would she walk with such purpose, an unhurried gait that spoke of her ease. Yes, she’d found what she sought.

“The journey has truly just begun and the path before you will be long and at times you will think of giving up. You will succeed at your task, though something dark lurks in your footsteps,” Oh, the details were not so much important, not as much as the vague words that I could pull from the memorized lists. Countless hours of being drilled and I could still feel the sting of his open hand landing on my soft cheek. Not so soft anymore, but I covered that up with an ample amount of face paint. Nothing to destroy the facade. “something that will stay with you for years to come.”

“And of love?” So childish, so innocent and naive. The young girls were all the same, fawning at the feet of men who brandished their strength as weapons to bend the will of others. Disgusting and pathetic creatures who preyed on weakness. Yet who was I to talk, for I was the very monster I detested.

“Indeed, though the love will be filled with pain,” I paused, letting my finger trail daintily over the crystal surface of my prop. “as the beauty of a rose is marred by the thorns with which it grows.” Yes, love and pain. The two never seemed to be separate, so close as to make the other seem desirable. I had no need of it.

I lowered my eyelids and gave her one last glance, preparing the words of my closing speech. “Your life will be a hard one, but filled with rich reward. I have something that may aid you.” The price for the session alone would cover the handmade trinket I presented to her on the flat of my palm. It hung on a corded leather chain, a black raven with ruby red eyes that gleamed wickedly in the light. “The watcher of the skies, told to bring luck and good fortune to the life of such a person as you.”

She clasped it lightly in her sun darkened hand. “How much for this object? I can’t repay such kindness…”

Letting go of the cord, I smiled at her as if she were a long ago friend. “A gift. Though I ask that if you should ever meet someone who you feel needs help more than you, give it freely as I have done.”

“To aid me in achieving my goal, the prize that I have sought for so long.” She whispered the words reverently.

“Yes, to win the love and endure the pain and ultimately, to acquire that which you desire.”

“You’re right.” Finally she smiled, a dangerous smile that hardened her gentle eyes. “The love that I seek and everything else will be mine, because you are what I have been seeking.”

I stared at her, uncertain. Perhaps the merciless days had induced her with the much feared sun fever.

“I am the darkness that follows. But not in my footsteps, in yours.”

Standing abruptly, I raised a trembling hand and motioned to the door. “The session is over, my father will collect what is due.”

“Your father will get what is due him. But first, the devil child that is his legacy.” With a swift motion, she jerked the fold of her cloak from her body. A flash of silver was all the warning I received before I stared blankly at the knife embedded in my flesh.

The pain cut through my body, sending me to the ground where it radiated through my limbs, leaving me writhing in panic. Fear flooded through me and yet my eyes retained a clarity as they stared to the side, focused on all I could see, the darkened mud on her boots. She crouched beside me with a feral grin. “Die, thorn in my flesh and memory of your father’s wickedness.”

A metallic sound rang in my ears painfully as she leaned over, setting something just out of my view. “Maybe then I shall forget and find real love, without your pesky thorns. Safe journey, dear heart.”

Gritting my teeth, I jerked my head back and uttered a cry as my eyes met the hard, crimson-red eyes of the raven. A tear ran from my eyes as my vision began to blacken, with her parting words lingering in the smokey air.

“The watcher help you, Daughter.”

It’s officially 10:00 pm where I’m at. And what does that mean? 2 hours till midnight. 2 hours till May 1st! AHHHH!!!!!! Mini freak out aside, I’m pumped and definitely ready for the chaos to begin!

Everybody with me? We’re gonna rock this challenge! >D

Mere days, people… Only days until the writing adventure begins! My own writing has been lagging since NaNoWriMo came to it’s unfortunate yet inevitable end. Storyaday is just the kick I need to get back into gear. I’ve got hundreds of ideas and I’m hoping a handful will actually make decent stories, but only time will tell.

I’m setting up a plan and I’ll be using this place to collect my ideas, thoughts and stories. I might throw in some artwork of my short stories as well. I tend to be inspired by drawing characters. Some of the short stories will be themed around sketches I’ve already drawn, in which case I’ll be sure to post them with the story. Remember, a picture’s worth a thousand words, and I plan on telling their story.

Storyaday is about growing as a writer so the goal is to write a little bit of everything, but we’ll see how it goes.

The GAME PLAN:

- All stories will range from 500-5000 words. No more, no less.

- Stories will come with a sketch or some type of art for inspiration.

- Stories will be split evenly between the male and female perspective. (or as close to even as possible)

- All ideas can be used…eventually. Never throw anything away, always write it down!

- At least one story a week will be in a genre I’m not good at writing or will include it within the story . (Romance, Humor, Horror)

- Writing will be the priority right after school.

- All stories written for the challenge will be posted on this blog.

Any prompts or interesting snip its will be posted on this blog as well. Maybe it’ll inspire some of y’all.