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 Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2007 10:14 pm
This is a fantasy piece I've been working on for some time. By no accounts is anywhere near finished, due to me perpetually being in the editing stage. Anyway, here's my prologue. (I'll post my first chapter after I receive any feedback, if at all.)
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In the times of old, when magic still existed, there ruled six kingdoms that were engaged in a never-ending war. Each wanted to become supreme, but knew it had to eliminate the others before that dream could be reality. The territories, each with their respective sovereign, had dominion over a specific element.
The six factions have been envious of each other’s power. Because of that, there were no compromises or sojourns of peace. After an eternity of unsettling conditions, the various leaders sought an end the all of the bickering and clashing with one another. They gathered in the only neutral zone, the Plains of Viridia (located in the center of the territories), and began deliberations on what shall be done.
In the end, there came a decision for there to be a grand competition to find out, for then all time, which kingdom was superior. Though just one suggested it and another seconded, the rest consented, not wishing to doubt their abilities or convey the faintest sign of weakness. They decided that each realm would choose three of its best to take part. A tournament would transpire, but no one competing could use any transport ability, spell, or contrivance (nor could any be used on them). The first team-or individual if that was the case-that arrived at the finish would receive the position of the ultimate tribe for his or her own, instantly forcing all others to concede.
The groups from each kingdom possessed a great ability, as to give themselves an advantage. Some were public knowledge while others remained cryptic. Those from the earth territory wanted it known and feared that their powerful could impale a foe at a moment’s notice. Others, however, chose to keep their talent a secret and only reveal their skill to its victims. The Darkness country was among these. As the competition neared, tensions ran higher than ever. The half dozen nations could do naught but prepare and trust in their personal success.
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 12:37 am
Don't worry about it. Just post in the direction you want your story to go. I'm looking forward to the next chapter. Just be careful for subtle errors such as Solede ...wanted it known and feared that their powerful could impale... "Powerful" should be power. Other than that, I'm expecting a good plot out of this. Personally, for my story, I'm at a block as to where I take it next, but that's something else entirely.
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 2:34 pm
Actually, that wasn't meant to be 'power'. The wording was intentional. It would make as much sense to say their 'elite'. That would be acceptable, so this is just as much so.
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 3:00 pm
Oh, so you meant "they're," not "their." I couldn't tell which was the one you meant.
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 7:30 pm
No, that wording would make no sense, it's like saying "Their powerful (ones)..."
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Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2007 10:07 pm
Okay, I'm looking at your sentence over and over again. Their's something about it that doesn't flow right, you know what I mean?
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Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2007 9:07 pm
I understand, but in the meantime, here's the first chapter, after much revising.
________________________________________________________________
In the early dawn of an indigo sky with the sun ever threatening its presence, the Light Ruler’s council gathered together. The assembly was comprised of three individuals, the first, known to others simply as ‘Paj’, initiated the hurried conversation. “Was it wise to choose him?” His voice low and raspy, yet clearly showed signs of uncertainty, “I mean, what do we truly know of the power?”
The trio was speaking furtively atop an observation tower. Typically, it would be a place where sound traveled the farthest, but thanks to Halik’s silencing charm, it is indeed the best location for secrets.
“Stifle!” whispered Grindle menacingly at his overly cautious partner. “You know he’s the best chance we have! With the other nation’s teams as they are, did we eve have a choice?!”
“Well,” Murmured Hilak, the reasonable one in the group, “It’s true that no one accurately grasps the extent of his full power, but it’s also fact,” clearing his throat casually, he finished, “that we have no luck in succeeding if we don’t use the very best of our resources. That would prove we were doomed from the start.”
“I get why the others were chosen, but why him? It’s still much too dangerous to rely on such raw power like that. There’s no telling how far it could backfire.” Paj warned.
“OH, will you stop that!” Grindle snarled. “It’s already done. Relax and just have some trust in the kid.” The shady council member turned to his other colleague, “Hey, Halik, what’s was his name again?”
Halik responded quietly and matter-of-factly, “Xentra, his name is Xentra. He is the one who shall ensure this kingdom’s triumph.” The three rushed down the spiral staircase and out in their respective paths, evading the nearest guard’s sighting by at least a solid twelve minutes.
**********
A tall and gaunt magus (of the race known only as the Lumorians) awoke, opening his powder blue eyes drowsily. The teenage boy had just awaked from a really good dream, and was none the happier for it. Just about the only benefit from waking up as he did staring into the beautiful face that slept mere inches from his own. Xentra smiled and sleepily rose out of bed to dress for the day, completely oblivious to the time. Xentra donned formal white and silver robes, matching his scruffy snow-colored hair. He stood in front of a mirror and inspected his lightly tanned and somewhat affable appearance. The arcanist gradually woke up as a brilliant shimmer lazily climbed the morning sky. Xentra spotted a lovely silhouette in his reflection, though not his own. It appeared livid with impatience. He turned apprehensively on the spot.
"Do I have to remind you what today is? How can you be wasting time?" The figure questioned him first demandingly, then in a worried and endearing tone. Sighing, she slanted her head slightly in a mixture of confusion while getting up herself. Xentra's weak reply was expected and said in an anxious and frustrated tone. "I know, I know. Gryffa, how much time do I have?"
Gryffa had been his closet and dearest companion as long as either of the pair could recall. She possessed majestic wings and an outlandishly good sense of aiding others. Xentra has always envied the fact that only females grew wings. She was a half foot shorter and a full year younger than him, but neither ever minded. Gryffa usually sported a crimson outfit, individually crafted for wing and limb flexibility. Her hair was as pink as the new dawn, and fervent emeralds for eyes were accented only the better for it. This young woman was slim and comely. Despite this, Xentra has never seemed to notice her obvious beauty, however sharp many believe the unconfident wizard to be.
“C’mon! Yer gonna be late!” Gryffa urged. The winged beauty slipped on a slimming outfit, grabbed his arm snuggly, and then led the way out of the dormitory wing of the building. Xentra rushed after her and toward a Grand Hall, where the other two waited.
Pikarri was the first of the two they encountered. Unlike Gryffa-and the average female in the nation for that matter, Pikarri was generally caustic and indifferent. This was quite unfitting of her kind. She was typically seen wearing a comfortable fitting lilac gown of her own design. A billowy effect was made to assist with wing movement and speed. Her eyes an unnatural shade of indigo and her hair a strange, unnerving violet, she didn’t make friends easily. However, this concerned her little, as she was more motivated by glory and pride, rather than prospects of friendship and hope. What was most prominent about her was her extreme reluctance to work with others.
The pair witnessed her dashing into the doorway about a half minute before they passed through themselves. Gryffa's grip seemed to tighten with the each second. Xentra winced while running in the corridors, reaching their destination only when he could bear her hold on his bicep no longer. They entered together, out of breath. The first figure Xentra and Gryffa saw was Pikarri, then Raniim.
Raniim was the paladin all the others wished they could be. He was cunning, strong, and popular with vast majority of those in the light empire. He stood before the lord solemnly and unwavering. His was clad in a suit of steel that any would be proud to be seen in. His reputation preceded him generously, for he was quite valiant and a friend to all. His dark brown skin and short ebony hair were effortlessly spotted in the room, made even more visible by the still-rising sun sifting through the various windows all around. The strangest detail any would mark about the paladin is the difference between his eyes-one royal blue, one goldenrod. Raniim remained, stone-faced, looking toward his king as Pikarri joined his side.
It was a full half-minute later before Xentra and Gryffa entered. Upon Xentra's and Gryffa's visible approach, all eyes in the room made their way toward them. The arriving mage unexpectedly had another in tow. The ruler of the light realm acknowledged the light warriors each with a respective nod. There seemed to be one more than anticipated.
Lumar, lord of the light realm, sat in his throne and silently greeted each of the chosen. He was experienced at leading and was a former paladin, not unlike Raniim. He wore an ornate golden crown, embedded with varying jewels of great value. He was dressed in regal white robes with intricate golden trimming. His light brown skin only showing the earliest signs of lines and his hair still deciding between charcoal and gray, few considered him an old ruler.
Lumar’s advisory panel, including none other than Paj, Hilak, and Grindle, quickly pointed out Gryffa and made sure a guard escorted her outside. Otherwise, they remained relatively silent and spoke only sporadically. Though persistent as she was, Gryffa's attempt to see what was going on was to no avail. She couldn't make out what was happening with her view from the entrance of the hall, and the sounds coming forth echoed to greatly for any to discern their words. Once the selected were alone with Lumar, he began. Gryffa waited glumly outside the doors with the guards stationed there.
“You have all been chosen as the best of your fields, and the competition commences in two days. You all must be ready by then.” Lumar’s voice reverberated through the hall. He carried on, consulting each one individually, “Raniim, you must hone your skill as a Paladin and adapt to leading this….unique team of yours. Pikarri, you also need to harness your powers as well. Xentra, you must make certain that you build your talents as a mage. I know none of you shall fail to impress.” Lumar looked downward to his feet, frowned, and then looked at his combatants hopefully.
Following much preparation talk, Xentra appeared overwhelmed while Pikarri and Raniim seemed stoic about their fate. Anything One by one, they exited the hall, having solemn expressions. Pikarri glared at Gryffa on her way out, and then stalked off. Raniim nodded back toward the mage and motioned that he would like to have a word. Xentra glanced toward the other two, but stopped at the sight of Gryffa. She had an anxious and unknowing expression upon her face. He held her for a quick embrace and went to see what Raniim wanted.
**********
“As you know,” Raniim started, “We’ll be working together. Survival shall depend on our trusting each other. What I need to know is.” The Paladin hesitated, not wishing to seem overbearing or demanding.” I need to know, for tactical purposes of course, if you can control….it[/i ].” Raniim led Xentra into a nearby garden for to further their conversation.
Xentra stared at his teammate blankly, “What do you mean?” The pair walked by large leafy plants that resembled roses, but these were far too big and pollen-filled to be confused with one.
Can he really not remember?, Raniim pondered. For a split second, he appeared lost in thought. He regained his composure and continued. “Seriously now, I need to know. How much power over it do you have? This is important, Xentra, Try to think.” The two stopped for a moment, but then their meandering persisted.
Once again, Xentra stood at the warrior of light’s side, bemused. He attempted to concentrate, but he couldn’t understand what Raniim was talking about. He stopped once more in front of an ornately trimmed shrub in the shape of a Pegasus. ‘Sorry, Raniim, but I rally don’t know what you mean.”
**********
The light mage spotted Gryffa in his peripheral, turned to Raniim’s disappointed figure briefly, and raced toward her, joyful to escape that barrage of the puzzling questions. Before Xentra could fully open his mouth for an explanation, Gryffa inquired about the discussions that occurred inside the Grand Hall. Xentra replied with a grave facial expression, “There are only two days left of preparation before we leave. We’re not really supposed to talk about it though.” Looking around to make sure no one would see, Xentra only saw Raniim sauntering away in the distance.
He pulled an ornament dangling on a golden chain out of his robe pocket.” They’re supposed to be from the Ancients, or something. He didn’t exactly tell us what they actually do. I'm not sure myself. I haven't tried it out yet.” Gryffa gaped at the charm. It is a polished silver miniature of a dragon. Xentra nonchalantly stuffed it back into his robe.
Gryffa was still wound up from not being able to listen in on the oh-so-important briefing, so she thought it would be a good idea for Xentra and herself to spend the day sparring. He didn’t care much one way or the other, so he agreed. They returned to their room and changed for the occasion, combat attire. The remainder of the day was spent training together and tending to the essentials.
**********
As the sunlight waned, they finished practicing-Gryffa having beaten Xentra thoroughly. While still marveling over the talisman Xentra had shown her, Gryffa thought about its possibilities. He distracted her from her contemplations by starting to explain the goings on of the day. Even though Lumar forbade doing so, he doubted that anyone would find out, so explicating transpired events is what he did.
“He told us that if we wanted to defeat the enemy, we had fight with power they didn’t know anything about. And even though we don’t even know yet, I guess we’ll have the advantage anyhow. Ancient powers are apparently our secret weapon.” Xentra smiled sheepishly and finished after an hour of telling, and retelling whenever Gryffa wanted more information or details. She sat in silence, dazed from what Xentra revealed. Overwhelmed by the news he had just presented her, Gryffa tried to avoid the subject. She halfheartedly wished Xentra a good night, departing with a rustle of her wings on the way out. He knew she wanted him to have the most sleep as possible these last couple of nights. The final thing he heard before the incoherency of a murmur was her saying something about it not being the only one. He quickly dismissed it and became consumed by slumber.
**********
The next morning while the sun peeked over the horizon, Gryffa woke Xentra. The duo went into the nearby wilderness to train further. When they came to the first clearing they saw fit as good enough, they encountered Pikarri, who had been honing her agility. Looking at her own angelic wings, Gryffa frowned, feeling hers were not as majestic. She had the impression that this meant her wings were not as powerful. Her companion reassured her but became impatient about the situation quick.
Not wanting to wait around for Pikarri to notice them, Xentra approached her. The spell caster hoped she might move, if not share the spot, but his attempts were made in futility. He thought about it and in the end decided against the idea. As he turned back to Gryffa, she put her hands to her mouth as she gasped in surprise. Xentra spun back around, just in time to see Pikarri flying straight at him. Instead of doubling over from her wing attack, Xentra dove onto some nearby earth.
Xentra dusted himself off and looked back at Pikarri as he returned to his feet, just in case she doubled back. Instead, she landed. He approached her and asked why she had attacked him. She looked shocked and appalled at the question. Instead of answering, she scoffed at Gryffa and flew away haughtily. Gryffa mouthed her protest but was stopped by Xentra before words were formed.
**********
Following their encounter, they assessed the site as too irksome, so they left and ventured for a new place. Gryffa suggested to Xentra that he train there, considering how available it was. He heeded her advice somewhat reluctantly, doing so there until the sun was high, hoping to strengthen his arcane skills. He did not worry about healing abilities, for he mastered them long ago, but the real trouble was becoming better at offensive and protective ones. He decided to give up for the day, after going at it for several more hours.
Afterward, they agreed how good of an idea eating really was. At the dining hall, Xentra and Gryffa got a hold some food from a line and ate rapaciously. Training builds up an appetite. Although Gryffa did not technically train herself, she did help him do so, not to mention the fact she just loved to eat. In fact, she was one of envy. She ate as much as any of those who worked diligently for hours on end and never appeared to gain an ounce.
After about ten minutes of eating, Xentra was finished. Gryffa had eaten three times than he had though, waiting as he was putting down his silverware. Actually, she was staring at him endearingly, rather than merely looking. Gryffa was not one for patience; she completed her meal a good minute before him. Xentra wiped his mouthand looked right back at her. He gave her an apologetic kiss, then waited for her to say something, like he knew she was about to.
Blowing her shiny pink locks out her face playfully, Gryffa began,” Ya know, Xentra, maybe I could tag along with you three-just to keep you out of trouble. Whatcha think?” Her expression rapidly altered from impatience to eager hopefulness.
Totally blown away by her suggestion, Xentra paused. At that time, only one thing came to mind-logic. “Well...uh...ya see-the thing is that-well, there’s only supposed to be three representatives from the kingdom, and they’re already chosen.” Noticing disappointment in the form of tears slowly engulfing her eyes, Xentra acted hastily. “But, since we’re not gonna see each other for some time, I thought you should have this.” Xentra fished out the necklace from one of his robe pockets and rashly presented it to Gryffa.
Gryffa happily accepted, wiping away the potential waterworks discreetly. She immediately put it around her neck. “How’s it look?” she asked Xentra, beaming.
Just like any other who knew what to say after much rehearsal, Xentra responded,” Magical simply magical, Gryffa. Oh, and to use it, all you have to do is say the incantation: mor-grado. It’s simple really.” Gryffa whispered it dreamily after him, still smiling.
Xentra’s eyes darted around, apprehensively. He spotted Raniim, whose eyes were looking intently at Gryffa’s direction in a suspicious fashion. Grabbing Gryffa, Xentra hurried out of the dining hall, hoping to leave the persecuting eyes behind.
**********
The Paladin watched as the twosome sped away for some odd direction. Xentra mistook a random glimpse for a suspicious glower. Gryffa and her love ran for about half a minute. Their speed was directionless, so they ended up at the city library. It was a great marble structure, one that dazzlingly reflecting the light of the sun.
Xentra led her inside and concocted a rather mundane notion to study books on the other nations. They stayed there for the remainder of the afternoon. In that time, Xentra and Gryffa read up on the enemy. There was not much information shared between the kingdoms, so little proved to be of any real help. This adventure would prove to be difficult indeed.
Xentra did not know what to do. He left for the Plains of Viridia the next morning, and he was not prepared. Although he was no charlatan, Xentra knew he couldn’t stand up to the warriors from the other realms. Xentra incessantly disbelieved his worth as being the one chosen.
The moon grew noticeably, so Gryffa wished Xentra good luck, hoping that in some way she could be of help in this dilemma. She gave him a soft kiss good night and left him in the room with naught but a gentle rustle of wings.
**********
The next morning, the day of the journey, Xentra could not have been more anxious. He gathered all of his equipment he needed for the quest. With the items tucked away, he was ready to go. He arrived promptly at the ceremonial hall, wearing resilient off-white robes and carrying a beige satchel. As he entered, Raniim and Pikarri were already waiting. It seemed to Xentra that he always lagged behind.
The sunlight grew and the threesome said their final goodbyes, but Xentra could not find Gryffa anywhere. At the entrance of the light kingdom, Raniim, Pikarri, and Xentra waved to the cheering masses, hoping to one day return with the ultimate news. Xentra turned to their form of transportation, enormous orbs of light made for uses of transport, and began the ascension toward them up a sloping marble staircase.
The orbs were crafted purely by Lumorian hand. They were capable of flight, though exactly how was unknown to the everyday citizen of the kingdom. All one had to do was step into the orb and clearly enunciate their destination. This was reliable as, and was expected to remain, the nation’s method of transportation for years.
The magus felt a strong zephyr on the way, as if someone, or something, had flown by swiftly. Xentra thought he might know what it could have been, but despite his suspicions, he couldn’t quite identify why it was familiar. In the end, he figured that he would find out in due time, so he joined the others. Raniim, Pikarri, and Xentra nodded to one another, climbed into separate orbs, and rode into the sky, starting the beginning of what may very well be their end...
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