Thursday, 22 December 2011

Am I in love with this story? Yes, I am

Made up a new plot line. Am I in love? Yes I am. Will I start to write this story before I finish Reverie? ...No, I suppose I shouldn't...

Marion stumbled along. Her wrists ached from weeks of being tied up. She sighed.

Treason. That was her crime. The king had ordered that she walk 300 miles to the city of Duomonte where she would promptly be executed. She knew the walk was almost over, and she didn’t know if she was happy or sad. Or just tired.

They walked past a farm, and her eyes fell on a boy working in the field. He had a handsome face, dark hair, and olive skin. She smiled. He met her eye and smiled back, before quickly looking away. Marion blushed, suddenly embarrassed at how she looked. She kept her eyes on the ground the rest of the way.

It wasn’t long before they reached their destination; the Duomonte Jail House. She would be kept there until her execution later in the evening. Her guards unceremoniously threw her in, and slammed the heavy wooden door. She could hear the click of the locks.

The world was completely dark in the stone room. Not a sliver of light met Marion’s eye. She crawled on her knees, her bound hands out in front of her, until she found the back wall. She leaned up against it and closed her eyes. All she felt like doing was sleeping, but however hard she tried, she just couldn’t get sleep to come. Fear and anxiety gnawed at her, and her stomach felt tight.

It seemed like days when they finally opened the door again. The bright light burned Marion’s eyes after spending many hours in the dark. One of them walked in and roughly pulled her to her feet. Outside of the jail house people were lined up along the streets. Marion never imagined that so many people could have heard about her and wanted to see her death. Maybe it wasn’t her they had heard about though. Maybe it was her cause.

The guard led her to a stone wall. A simple wooden stool sat just before the wall, and a line of five archers were lined up a few feet away. Marion gulped. She thought that she’d be brave, but now that the moment came, she felt tears threatening to escape. She was ordered to sit down on the stool, and she did so obediently. Just then, images of her life the past few months flashed before her eyes.

She saw Jodur standing before her, sword in hand, as he promoted her to his elite force of spies. She saw burning villages. She saw Andi, on the ground, arrows in her chest. Execution by firing squad. Just like Marion. She saw the king, his cruel smile and cold eyes. She saw suffering, hunger, and pain. It had all been for good though. And Jodur’s Knights would continue to fight for good. They always would. A sudden burst of courage coursed through her body, and she found herself standing up.

“I will not die sitting down.” She heard herself say. The archers looked at each other, and a few shrugged their shoulder. Marion stood up tall, and looked each of the archers in the eyes. When the first arrow came at her, it seemed to go in slow motion. The shiny black shaft shone in the dying light. It struck it’s mark, right in the chest. The other four followed in rapid succession, and only two of them whizzed past her, and struck the wall behind her. She fell backwards, her first instinct was to pull the arrows out of her chest, but as she tried to lift her arm, she couldn’t. Her vision slowly narrowed, and her breath became fast and shallow. The crowd was completely quiet. Marion’s eyes drooped closed, and she whispered one last prayer to the gods to save her soul. The last sound she heard was a bird’s cheerful chirp. She smiled.

~

Jesh couldn’t get the image of the smiling girl out of his mind. He knew who she was, but he didn’t know her name. The image kept pulling at his mind, until finally he threw down his rake in frustration.

“Pa, I’m going to the execution!” He called as he hopped the fence, and sprinted down the road. He got there just in time. There she was. Her guard pulled hard at the rope connected to her wrists, causing her to stumble. Her eyes looked full of fear. She sat down on the little stool. Jesh felt sorry for her. Suddenly she stood up, knocking the stool over.

“I will not die sitting down.” She said. Her voice only quavered ever so slightly. Jesh all of a sudden wished with all his heart that he knew her.

The firing squad raised their bows. They each had their one arrow on the string. They all pulled back together. At a nod from the firing master, the arrows all whooshed towards her in one mass. Three struck her in the chest, and she fell backwards. What an awful way to die. Jesh thought to himself. He turned away. The blood oozing from her wounds and running on to the ground made his stomach sick. He looked back and saw a man step forward and crouch down. He put two fingers on her neck to feel her pulse.

“She’s dead.” He announced. People murmured amongst themselves. Jesh looked to his right, and saw a man quickly brush away a tear. Then he discreetly raised four fingers to his heart, then his lips, then outwards in a salute. Jesh gasped. Jodur’s salute. Could that be…? The man realized that Jesh had seen him, and raised a finger to his lips, as if to say, “It’s our secret”. Then he disappeared.

The town’s people then started to disperse, but Jesh stayed there. Something about that gesture towards the dead girl had moved him. He quickly moved to where her body was, and where it would stay until the next morning, as a reminder to the people. He slipped a hand behind her neck, and found a chain. He followed it until he found a pendant that had been hidden in her shirt. It was a deer. On the back it had one word. A name.

“Marion.” He said aloud. He supposed that must have been her name. Marion. He snapped the chain, and stuck it in the pouch that hung on his belt. Then he quickly rushed over and picked a blooming flower. Fawnbloom it was called, for it’s beautiful white delicacy. He arranged her body into a less gruesome position. Straight, with hands folded on her stomach. Like you would see someone just before the casket lid closed. He placed the flower between her hands. Just then he felt a sudden surge of warmth towards this girl he had never met. He gently kissed her forehead, then stood up.

“Well Marion. I suppose Jodur will be needing another soldier now.” He said sadly. Then he walked out of town, and didn’t look back.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Daydream

You know you're a writer when you come up with random plot lines while walking home from school... Haha! Yup, I had to walk home today, and this is the scene that I came up with. Remember, all of the stuff on this blog is rough draft form, and most of it's not very good... Don't judge! :)


Princess Saren shivered as the cold wind blew snowflakes around her. Her eyes darted back and forth, her muscles were tense, and her mind was alert. She crept through the dark trees, wary of any danger that may be lurking in them. Her small bundle of belongings was clutched tightly to her chest. A howl sounded behind her, and she spun around, breathing quickly. The constant fear in her stomach grew, and almost engulfed her. Taking in large gasps of breath, she continued onward. She didn’t have a destination. She had no idea where she was going. But she just kept walking, like she had been doing for days.

The fear, it was something awful. She hated how it was always there, always lurking behind her mask. It had been like this for months. First, rumors of wars, then the castle, under siege. She saw her mother’s face again, the scene replaying in her mind.

“Saren, leave! Run, far away from here!” Her mother begged, face taught, and pale with worry. “You must go darling! They’ll be here any second!”

“No, I’m not going! I’m staying here! I’m not running away like a weak willed coward! I’m not a child mother!” Saren declared, her voice wavering. Really, the only thing she wanted to do was run away and scream. Just imagining the horrors her father’s enemies had in store for her was enough to set her teeth on edge. But she wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t leave them.

“Saren, there is only one hope for the future of this kingdom. Please, go! There is no hope for us now, but I know that if anyone can take back this kingdom from Darthius, it is you. Please. For me! For the kingdom…” Tears ran down the Queen’s face, her eyes were full of despair. Saren looked away briefly. Then she looked at her mother.

“I will go. But only because I must.” She said. Her mother pulled her into a hug.

“That’s a good girl. Remember me!” She took off her amethyst necklace, and slipped it over her daughter’s head. Tears stung Saren’s eyes. She quickly took off her bracelet, and held it out to her mother.

“To keep me close.” She whispered. The Queen’s finger wrapped around it. Saren turned away. She sprinted down the well known corridors into her bedchamber. She quickly pulled on her poorest looking dress, and her cloak. Then she hastily piled some of her most essential belongings into a knapsack. A change of clothes, her water skin, some dried meat she had grabbed from the kitchen. In a matter of moments she was running. She glanced behind her, just to see her beloved home go up in flames.

Saren closed her eyes tight, willing the images out of her mind. She had failed her mother. She didn’t know where she was going. She was lost in a forest at night. There was no hope. For her, or for her kingdom.