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 Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2012 7:16 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2012 9:34 pm
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++++++++++ 𒄉 Winter, 1411
“Sizwe. Come sit.” Lungile Magoro set down his tumbler of whiskey staring at his son expectantly, green eyes showing impatience. “We have to discuss an important matter.” Sizwe looked up from his ledger, shutting it slowly as he stared at his father apprehensively. His father usually didn’t have anything important to discuss with him, as he already knew most of the important matters that went around their farm without being told so. He stood up from the small folding desk from the fireplace, making sure to tuck the chair in as quietly as it would against their wooden floor before making his way over to their dining table.
His father stood up as Sizwe sat down, picking up a tumbler from their cupboard, filling it up with a generous amount of whiskey, and handing it to his son. “Should have summah ]that whiskey tonigh’.” Lungile let out a grunt as he sat back down. Sizwe merely held the tumbler in his hands, hoping his father wouldn’t make him drink. Whiskey wasn’t one of
his favorite beverages, but as a farmer living in Erlend, it was the main drink of choice.
“I’m not what I used to be.” His father started, eyeing his son, “Age is quite the devil, Sizwe. Always gets us in the end.”
“…You’ve still got the best fields in Erlend, Father.” Sizwe said, wondering if his father was in need of a small ego-boost and that was why his father wanted to talk to him (which would then mean the world was finally ending because if his father of all people needed an ego-boost…).
“Well obviously.” His father practically growled, “Slaved over them every day for the past 40 years, they damn well be the best.” He sipped his whiskey, “But tha’s not what I ]wanted to talk to you ‘bout.” Sizwe stared at his father expectantly, making sure to press his lips to his cup every now and then, hoping his father wouldn’t notice the level of the whiskey staying the same. “Yer of age.”
“Th-the farm? Oh, oh no Father…I possibly cou—“
“Not the damn farm, yah scamp! A girl! Marriage! Or whatever you kids call it these days."
Sizwe’s eyes widened in shock, “Marriage? T-to a girl?” No…it was too soon…too soon...he was counting on it being a few more years…two at least. Not now…there was no way anyone in Erlend would want him as a son-in-law. Especially with what had happened over the summer…
“What else would it be then, huh? You think you gonna marry Wiggles? Ya think I’m gonna let you marry an a**?” he shook his head, rolling his eyes. “No one in this village is a good match for ya. Tha’s why I had to go over to Glambek over there, an’ found a nice, young girl, decent fam’ly, healthy, good farm, eh, she’s not a looker, but the pretty ones, they be more trouble than they’re worth.”
Sizwe merely gaped at his father, lost for words. He didn’t know what to say, what to even do in a situation like this. It was useless to argue (not that he had the will to), but it was too soon…did even know how a court a girl?
“Father…”
"Enough!” Lungile pushed his chair back, the chair squeaking noisily against the wooden floor, “There will be no further discussion of this, Sizwe. You’ll do what is expected of you."
Sizwe stared into his glass, watching the whiskey swirl around slowly, as he grit his teeth. There was no way out of this situation, and he would have to accept his fate, as painful as it was.
𒄉 Word Count: 607
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2012 8:17 pm
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++++++++++ 𒄉 Spring, 1411
Sizwe wiped the sweat off his brow as he finished unloading the bales of grain from his wagon. He was in Glambek for the day, bartering their surplus of grain for whatever livestock they could get in return. He was here on behalf of his father, who was unable to come along because of prior engagements with other farmers. Sizwe walked over to the two stallions that here harnessed to his wagon and untied them, letting them roam the field as they wished; they would need all the rest they would need if he did end up getting as many items in return his father was hoping for. He had borrowed the stallions from a fellow villager, as the winter’s cruel frost had killed of his own steeds. His only donkey Wiggles was much too old and decrepit to help out with a task as taxing as this.
“Tha’s a lot of good qual’ty grain there, Magoro.” A man probably in his late fifties, sauntered into view, as he looked at the grain and Sizwe, impressed. “What’cha lookin’ fer in return?” he pulled out a straw of barley and wheat, turning them over and inspecting the stalk.
“Thank you, sir.” Sizwe couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. He was making a good name for his father’s farm! “We’re lookin’ fer some animals, Mr. Ward.” Kearney Ward was known for his prize-winning livestock, and it was even said that he himself raised animals for the royal family and nobility in Helios. He was pretty sure that wasn’t true, but the royal family would be fortunate to have livestock that Ward himself raised, “All our animals died durin’ the winter, you see. We only got a donkey and our cat left, sir. And even they’re not holdin’ up too well.” Even getting a chicken from this man would be great.
“Uh-huh…” Ward crossed his arms, scanning Sizwe up and down, his face conveying no emotion whatsoever. “So. You want some animals in return, eh?” he leaned against Sizwe’s wagon, staring down Sizwe.
“Y-yes sir. If you’re able to.” Sizwe tried to hide his nervousness, the man was obviously testing him, but he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. His father and Ward had known each other for years, and Lungile had reassured his son that Ward would definitely give him something to go home with.
Ward grinned, “Sure! Why not.” He held out his hand to seal the deal.
Sizwe couldn’t help but sigh with relief, this was great news! “Thank you so much, sir!” He shook Ward’s hand gratefully, “It means a lot to us! It really does!”
“What’cha lookin’ to get m’boy?” he asked, leading Sizwe to the barn. “I’m guessin’ ya need something that can do more than yer donkey, huh?” he laughed, patting Sizwe on the back. “You’ve had him for a long time, amazin’ creature it is.”
Sizwe chuckled, “Yeah…Wiggles has been with us a long time. We’re uh…hopin’ to get a cow and a horse if tha’s alright.”
“Hmm…I think I can do that for ya.” Ward nodded his head slightly, pushing the barn door open and leading the younger man in. “I dunno if I can give you a bull, but I can give you this heifer, she just had a calf.” He motioned for Sizwe to come over, pointing out a rather large open space with a brown and white cow laying in the center, her small calf headbutting its mother. “She just had the sucker a few days ago, think its strong enough to go back home wit’ you tonigh’. If not, I can give you somethin’ else.”
Sizwe scanned over the heifer from where he was standing, looking for the telltale signs of a good, healthy animal: bright eyes, wet nose, shiny coat, plump body…she looked pretty healthy enough. The cow was raised by a brilliant man like Ward, no less. “I’ll take them.” Sizwe looked at Ward, “Pa says he’s been needing a milkin’ cow anyways, and a calf is a pretty good bonus.”
“Good. Good.” Ward patted Sizwe on the back, “I’ll git my kids to round them up and help ya bring them home. Too much fer one man to handle.”
“Th-thank you, Mr. Ward.” Sizwe said gratefully, relief washing over him. Not only did Ward give him one of his best cattle, but he gave him a heifer and a calf. His father would be pleased. The only thing left to get was a horse. That shouldn’t be a hard task.
“Now…we gotta small problem with the horses…” Ward started, leading him back out of the barn, away from the stables in the back. “Y’see…I need my horses now, I gotta finish plowin’ my fields…” Ward led him outside, to the back of the barn to where the corral was.
For a moment, Sizwe’s heart sank, fearing the worst. If they weren’t able to get a horse, then Wiggles would have to do all the heavy lifting…and that basically meant he would be dragging the plow around for the rest of the summer.
“Magoro. Don’t look like that.” Ward laughed, “I’m jus’ sayin’ I can’t give you a full grown one. I can give you a foal though. I remember your father sayin’ he wanted a stallion.”
“Gosh, sir.” Sizwe said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You almos’ gave me a heart attack!” He couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed that he fell for that! Ward was known for saying things in such a somber mood, but Sizwe fell for it every time. Ward let out a booming laugh, patting Sizwe on the back, shaking his head, “Sizwe, m’boy, you’re a good hard worker, but jokes don’ seem to be somethin’ you do well, huh?”
”N-not really sir…” Sizwe chuckled nervously, feeling the color rise in his face. ”S-so a foal? That’s still good enough.” he said quickly hoping it would change the subject.
Thankfully, Ward took the hint, and nodded, “We got a few foals out running about righ’ now. They’re quite a handful, and taking just one off our hands would be fantastic.” He opened the fence gate, leading Sizwe in once more. “Take yer pick, we got four in total, and I believe three of those four are boys.”
Sizwe stood there, first examining the foals from a distance, who were staring at the young man curiously. One of them whinnied, circling around Sizwe, bumping into the other foals. Sizwe grinned, it had been a while since he had played with a foal, or any baby animal. They were always so curious and so playful, he loved it. He held his hand out to the one closest to him, as it continued to bump into the other foals, slowly inching closer and closer to him.
“Papa!”
Both Sizwe and Ward turned around the sound of the voice, Sizwe wondering who it could be. The voice was unmistakably female; he knew that Ward had a daughter. Was she slightly younger or older than him? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember her name…
“Eileen, what is it?” Ward beamed at his only daughter, and waved Sizwe over. Ah, that was her name. Eileen. He had seen her a few times before, but mostly when he was a little kid. He mostly played with her brothers, as she was always in the house with her mother. She was much different from what he remembered, she had grown a few feet, had long blonde hair that was braided neatly down her back, with the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen. He had to admit…she was kind of pretty.
Eileen smiled, smoothing out her apron, “Just wanted to tell you that lunch is ready for our…guest…” she trailed off, as she stared at Sizwe, her face turning a slight pink. “…Mr. Magoro…” she dipped into a quick curtsey.
Sizwe bowed slowly, “Oh…Miss Ward. How do you do…” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why she was suddenly so quiet. Her father however, was beyond elated, though Sizwe didn’t know why. Ward patted Sizwe on the back, laughing, “Magoro, I’m sure you know about you and Eileen…” he gave the boy a wink, elbowing him, “Couldn’t be happier to have a son-in-law like you.” Eileen’s face turned even a brighter red, eyes downcast.
“Sir?” Sizwe stared at them both incredulously, “S-son-in-law? No, no…” he shook his head, “I-I think you might be mistaken…” he smiled nervously, feeling his stomach sink. Was this why his father sent him out alone today? To meet his future wife and father-in-law?
Ward laughed even louder, “Goodness, did Lungile leave that out? I thought ya knew ‘bout it! Everyone here in Glambek does!” Sizwe’s legs felt weak, and it took all he had to not slump to the ground right then and there. Eileen hazarded a glance at Sizwe, her blue eyes scanning his face. Sizwe locked eyes with her for just a moment, but Eileen immediately looked back at the ground, covering her mouth as she stifled a giggle. Sizwe couldn’t help but laugh either, though his was a more nervous one. He had to admit, she had pretty cute dimples when she smiled.
Oh boy.
++++++++++ 𒄉 Word Count: 1,538 |
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2012 6:34 am
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iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 𒄉 Late Summer, 1411
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiSizwe rolled over onto his back, adjusting the worn pillow underneath his head as he stared blankly at the ceiling. So much had happened in the past few months, he found himself unable to fall asleep some nights. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he could tell it was pretty late because of his father's loud snoring next door. He smiled despite himself; it was a familiar sound of comfort in his home. Probably the only comforting sound left. No longer would he hear his sister's quiet humming, his grandmother's cackling laughter, or even the aroma of dinner wafting out into the fields in the late afternoon. He would never admit it to his father, but sometimes he missed his sister and grandmother to the point where he could feel his heart ripping in two.
He leaned over the edge of his bed and reached down, feeling around the floor underneath his bed picking up a little stone slab. He sat up in bed, holding in his hands, trying his best to ignore the putrid odor of the stone as his finger traced one of the black smudges on the stone that so resembled fingermarks. The creature carved into the stone stared back at Sizwe sternly, much like how his father would stare at him. Sizwe still didn't know anything about the creature, which looked like some human-headed winged bull, and why it was even carved like that, or who even carved it for that matter. It was obviously very old, the stone chipping and weathered away in some places. He thought back to the day when he first saw it, in the hands of the Obscuvian who showed it to the crowd. Most of the townspeople were awed by it (though he was curious as to why, it was just a putrid old piece of stone) and others frightened. His grandmother had seemed to know what it was, as he remembered her furrowing brow and her muttering something under her breath, a telltale sign that his grandmother was very worried. His father paid no attention to the Obscuvians, though he was begrudgingly thankful of the immense grain surpluses their village had received.
And then just like clockwork, the plague came, throwing Erlend into complete chaos, dozens of people killed from either the plague or from their neighbors. Their once quiet little town was practically destroyed, the lands all around them set on fire--even people's houses. Sizwe bit his lip, his grip tightening on the stone as he remembered watching his house burn down, his sister and grandmother trapped inside. He remembered the screaming, the smell in the air, and how bright it was that night his life was destroyed. He remembered his stoic father break down, seeing everything they had worked for destroyed in the blink of an eye. Even though the Obscuvians had left before the town went into a riot, he still couldn't help but feel as if they were at fault. If they hadn't stopped by his grandmother and sister would probably still be alive.
Sizwe laid back down in a huff, the icon now resting atop his stomach. There was no use dwelling on the past. That's what made the world full of fighting and deaths, his grandma had told him. He wasn't the type to dwell on the past and hold grudges; he just wasn't the type of person to. But, this kind of act was unacceptable. He sighed loudly as the icon slowly sliding off his belly, his mind slowly turning to the little stunteds he had talked to a few months ago. If what they had said was right (which he has supposed they were), the putesco in his possession would turn into something like them...with the potential to grow larger. Sizwe felt his stomach flop, wondering what would even happen if that did happen. Erlend was a village full of fearful people, and they would immediately shun him and father, though that wouldn't really bother him as he and his father didn't really go out of their way to communicate with the villagers anymore. But, he was more concerned about how his father would take the news, unsure how the man would even react if he did present whatever this stone would turn into, to him. It was even more unpredictable now, because Lungile and his friend Ward had arranged a marriage between Sizwe and Ward's daughter, Eileen. This stone would then be able to destroy all of his father's connections to people across the region. He had debated about throwing it into the lake, but he remembered Lady Rycheford's words, that he and the item shared a bond. He had a duty to it, to protect it and keep it safe from harm, and maybe in turn, it would keep him and his family safe in the future.
Sizwe reached over to grab the putesco, rolling over onto his side to slide it underneath his bed. He had thought about falling asleep with it next to him, but the smell was far too horrid to even fancy that idea. Before placing it on the floor, he stared at the creature carved onto the surface, and whispered, "I don' know what's really goin' on with you, and I'm not the smartest, but I really hope...hope that you can watch over my Pa and me. Pa 'specially. I'm jus' sorry tha' you ended up here, and not with some rich person in Miskhan, who could probably take care of you better than I could..." he swallowed before continuing, "Just please protect my dad please."
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 𒄉 Word Count: 935 |
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Posted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 1:30 am
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iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 𒄉 Autumn, 1411
iiiiiiiiiThere was a lot of work to be done on the farm, since winter was drawing closer and closer by the day. The extremely cold winter that happened in the previous year still rang clearly in the minds of the villagers, taking extra precautions to make sure they were well-prepared for another disaster like that since one could never be sure about the weather.
It nearing sunset, and Sizwe was nearly done with moving some of the freshly cut grass into their barn. Now that they had a heifer, her calf, as well as a growing horse, the farm would need an enormous amount of hay saved for the upcoming winter to sustain their young, growing bodies. The foal whinnied at Sizwe when he passed by with a bundle of hay, craning his neck over the stall to try and get a bite. The farmer smiled, and picked up a small handful of hay and held it out to the foal who gobbled it up eagerly. It lifted up his head after it was gone, and grunted at Sizwe again, expectantly looking for another handout to his owner, who merely scratched the horse behind its ears, "In a little while, okay? I gotta ge' this finish'd firs'.", he said, picking up his pitchfork and started to pile up the hay into one large mound. He would have to cut and bring in the rest of the grass tomorrow. Fortunately, he had finished the wheat harvest a few days ago, which his father was in the process of selling to the lords in the area and the miller in their town. Hopefully they'd get a decent amount of money in return so they would be able to buy meats and clothes for the winter and upcoming spring.
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2012 2:29 pm
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++++++++++ 𒂠 META: PART ONE
++++++++++ 𒄉 Autumn, 1411
++++++"You can dig up th'fields all y'wan', it'll b'easier to plow in th'spring.", Lungile grunted, surveying a few men on horses uprooting his wheat fields. Thankfully, most of the wheat had been harvested and safely baled away in their barn, though one couldn't tell if they were going to destroy the barn too. Sizwe stood behind his father, who was leaning against the doorpost muttering various profanities to himself. The younger Magoro stood in motionless disbelief, his heart pounding against his ribcage at the scene unfolding before him. He had heard the news of Lords entering Auvinus and trampling everything in their sights, forcing the destroyed villages to submit to them, but he didn't expect it to come to Erlend. He had always foolishly relied on Erlend's rather isolated location, believing that nothing bad would ever come their way to his small village, but he was always sorely disappointed. His hand trailed to his pocket, feeling the small slab of stone that always rested there. "Pa...what're we goin' t'do?", Sizwe asked, his voice quiet. He didn't want to convey any nervousness or fear to his father, especially not now, when they were going through another crisis.
"We wait.", his father answered, not moving from his position at the door, "Th'only reason why they can even step foot on m'land withou' hearin' from me is tha' they serve the Emperor an' he's th'good man." he growled. It wasn't very often he saw his father this angry, and it was pretty frightening. Lungile Magoro was held in a fearful respect in Erlend, but he wasn't really much when it came up to a big force such as the military.
One of the figures on horses that had been standing at the edge of their wheat fields suddenly turned, facing their house and galloped over to them without warning. Lungile finally moved from his position at the door, and took a step outside to greet the Lord. The man on the horse stopped abruptly, his horse kicking up a cloud of dust as it skidded to a halt. He navigated his horse, backing up a few feet from Lungile, who surprisingly did not flinch. Sizwe moved to the doorway, cautiously regarding the man's appearance. The man had a pompous air about him, and looked much older than the other men. His clothes were much more elaborate than what the men were wearing; instead he was dressed in a richly decorated red tunic embroidered with gold and silver thread, dark red breeches, a mantle over his shoulders which appeared to be made of ermine (though one wondered how he could wear such a thing in the warm Auvinus weather), numerous rings on his fingers, as well as a headband made of gold around his shoulder-length brown hair. His sharp blue eyes regarded the two men below him, his hawk-like, crooked nose pointed up in the air pompously.
"Guessing from the splendid state of your fields before I had my men destroy it, you are the Magoros?", he asked, his voice reminiscent of a broken flute, making both Sizwe and his father recoil in shock. The beginnings of a smile twitched at the ends of Lungile's mouth, though it was hard to tell if it was of amusement or of disbelief. Sizwe gaped at the man dumbly, though remembered in quickly it was in his best interests to close his mouth. The man took no notice of their expressions and continued speaking "I am Lord Untche of Gallylake. And I quite like your fields.", he stated simply. "I want it."
Lungile glared at the man, "I will no' have m'land given to th'likes of you." he spat, his fists clenched at his sides, glaring at Untche, who stared back coolly. Sizwe stood behind his father silently, trying to say something of importance. He found it hard to take the lord seriously, with this outrageously lavish get-up and ridiculous voice and all. But, it was pretty obvious that the both of them were not strong enough to take him and his men on; they didn't even have proper weapons to begin with. Untche picked at his fingernails in a rather disgusting manner, and let out a over dramatic sigh, "I should have you know, speaking like that to a lord is quite rude." He adjusted his cape, "But I am feeling quite gracious today, and I will give you until noontime tomorrow to give me an answer. Though I shall let you know, if you reject my offer...", he trailed off, tugging at the reins of his horse, turning to face the direction of the soldiers, "...I may just burn this whole place to the ground...and the villagers may just find two piles of bones underneath the rubble...", he turned his head back to sneer at the two men before galloping off, not bothering to hear Lungile's reply. Once the lord was close enough to the soldiers, he yelled something indecipherable to his men, and immediately the soldiers lined up and marched off towards the north.
Both men silently stood there and watched the army march off, the gravity of their situation still sinking in. After a few minutes, Sizwe finally spoke, though his voice was quiet, "Pa...we have t'do somethin'...", staring at his father's back. "Our lives are in danger. An' they wan' a answer b'tomorrow." Sizwe bit his lip, feeling rather useless since he didn't even have the courage to speak up for himself in their encounter with the lord. His father finally turned around, his expression surprisingly somber. Lungile let out a deep and frustrated sigh, rubbing his beard as he slowly walked back into their house. Sizwe followed his father inside, feeling light-headed as the situation sunk in. They were trapped now, and one of them would be leaving whether they liked it or not, the lord had made that part clear.
Lungile suddenly let out a loud laugh and swore loudly, making Sizwe flinch, Lungile's hand covering the upper-half of his face still chuckling softly to himself, "These bastards." |
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Posted: Wed Oct 17, 2012 8:55 pm
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++++++++++ 𒂠 META: PART TWO
++++++++++ 𒄉 Autumn, 1411
++++++Sizwe and Lungile spent the rest of their day finishing up whatever was left of the grain harvest in awkward silence, both refusing to further discuss the dilemma they were now faced with. The stone slab in his pocket felt heavier in his pocket, as Sizwe couldn't shake the feeling that the Guard had come into their village to look for items similar to those. He had learned that he was not the only one in possession of such an item; there were many people across the continent who had items that were as tainted and rotten as his. He hadn't met any of them so far, but wondered if it would be worth seeking out such people. The farmer's nervousness was very obvious evidenced by the way he was tying up their bales of hay, the knots loose and uneven. Every now and then he glanced at his father, who ignored him, seemingly engrossed in his work. Sizwe wanted to say something, anything to brighten up the mood, but he was at a loss for words-- moreso than usual.
It was nearing sunset when Sizwe was tidying up and Lungile was feeding their livestock when they heard a clatter of hooves just outside their barn. Lungile grunted a frustrated sigh, "I swear if s'that man...", the man muttered under his breath, dusting his hands off. Sizwe leaned his pitchfork against the stall door, his expression a mix of worry and confusion, his hand instinctively going to his pocket.
"M'goro!", bellowed a man over the neighing of the horses and the stamping of hooves, the man's thick Auvinian accent was laced with urgency. Both Sizwe and his father strode over to the entrance of their barn to greet them. Fortunately, it was the villagers, and judging from the look on their faces, they didn't have good news to bear. "Wha'happened.", Lungile asked, his eyes scanning over the men's expressions.
"It's tha' Gallylake Lord.", the man who had yelled out earlier said, adjusting his hat, as he slid off his horse. "He's destroyin' everythin' M'goro. Even th'milit'ry don' know what t'do." he rubbed his face, letting out a sigh as the other men murmured in agreement. "He burn'd down m'barn and destroy'd m'harvest.", another man piped up, his calloused face wrinkled with worry, "S'worse than th'winter tha' jus' pass'd.
Lungile dusted off his hands slowly, facing the other farmers, "...I've decided t'join the milit'ry, an' maybe gettin' their help on gettin' rid of th'lord." he glanced towards his son who stared back in shock, "P-Pa, you don't have t'do tha'." Sizwe piped up, one of the farmers let out a low whistle as the others stared on with disbelief. "Th'farm needs you." he chewed on his bottom lip, finding himself at a loss for words, again.
"Ye, M'goro, there's no need t'do tha'." agreed the farmer at the front, stroking his beard, "We can find 'nother solution. Really." Lungile merely shook his head at the group, ignoring his son, "S'fine. Migh' get some nice things for th'family. Since Sizwe's gettin' married an' all." One of the men opened his mouth to reply, but closed it almost immediately, seemingly understanding Lungile's sentiments on the matter. The younger Magoro stood there stiffly, his eyes wandering back and forth to the farmers and his father, his brows knit in obvious concern and fear.
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