\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1261868-Book-chapter
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: · Chapter · Other · #1261868
first draft, needs proofreading/comments
There was a small ocean breeze that blew across the waves of the lake and the barren landscape, bringing little comfort to those who roamed the streets of the small port city of khallas. The clouds in the sky drifted lazily, boldly outlined by the bright, blue sky and the large, orange sun that hung high above the town, beating down on the landscape and its occupants. Khallas consisted mostly of Miara, a race of fish-like people, who had only recently arrived on the shores of Sudoria to be known by the races of men and elves, although their history upon the world stretched much further than any of them was aware of. There were however, a few human merchants and sailors that occupied of the small village frequently, selling their wares from other parts of the land or simply seeking a room for the night while they repaired their ship, waiting to set sail and embark off to their destination the following day. The town, located within the Plains of Desolation, was one of the many port cities in the northern half of continent that dotted the northern coast in the nation of Mylinthia.
A few miles down the coast of the city, standing impatiently on the beach as waves of salty ocean water washed up over their ankles, was a small group of Miarian children. They wore faded, the only clothing on their bodies was a pair of leather shorts that dropped down to their ankles, except for ragged shirts worn by the young girls, but due to the heat of the desert, any extra clothing was undesirable. Their skin, which ranged from a dark blue to a light green, stood out against the light tans and bright oranges of the sands along with the clear ocean water that rushed up to engulf their feet. Gathered in a semi-circle formation, most of the children were surrounding a single boy, looking around nervously with a doubtful expression on his face, he was fidgeting with his small hands, which had small folds of skin in between each finger.
“So you gunna do it, or are ya a chicken?” One of the boys said, folding his arms and strutting around. Some of the others laughed, but the boy who was being loosely surrounded did not seem so amused.
“Of course I’m gonna to do it, I’m no chicken!” The boy retorted, slightly hurt by the insult.
“Then hurry up Vince, c’mon, we don’t got all day yano!”
Taking a deep sigh, Vince turned around to face the calm waters of the ocean. He took a few steps forward until the water was splashing up against his waist. He brought his hands together and bent his knees before diving headfirst into the cold water.
Paddling his feet, which had small folds of skin in between his toes, along with short fins that protruded from his ankles, he descended deeper into the bay, which had a sharp slope about ten yards out, slanting downward at a steep angle into the depths. The child also had another set of fins which grew from the sides of his wrist, allowing him greater speed while swimming. Small slits on his cheeks acted as gills, allowing him to swim through the water unhindered by the need to swim back to the surface for gasps of air.
All I have to do is reach the bottom and take a handful of seaweed to prove that I did it, he thought to himself, making large arcs with his arms to propel him deeper into the clouded waters. It was a childish dare, but he wasn’t going to be called chicken so easily, and he would prove it. The water grew cold and became darker as he swam deeper and deeper, but soon, he reached the ocean floor.
There were a few patches of seaweed that were sparsely scattered along the ocean floor, but he was surprised to find nothing else. The sand was extremely fine due to the hundreds of years of erosion from the water, and with each step, plumes of smoke rose up from the ground. Swimming through the water, he approached one of the clumps of seaweed, motioning to retrieve a small handful and return to the surface to prove his feat. Before he could grab a strand of the wispy plant, a small glimmer caught his eye. Scouring the area where he saw the quick flash of light, he was amazed to see a large, diamond-shaped crystal that was slowly hovering just above the staff, spinning slowly and giving off a faint, sputtering light that came from the center of the gem. Vince suddenly forgot all about the seaweed, and found himself crouching down besides the fascinating object.
Wow! He thought as he inspected the crystal’s many facets, with this, I would be rich! Then me and momma could move to a nicer city and get a real house!
He reached for the crystal, but hesitated for a moment. The bay was feared by a few people, those who said it was cursed with some omen, and that it was dangerous. This had been the reason the dare had been proposed in the first place, but so far nothing odd had happened, and Vince decided that it couldn’t have anything to do with this pretty stone he found in the depths of the supposedly cursed waters. Wrapping his fingers around the gem, he gave it a weak tug, not expecting any resistance, but finding that it wasn’t as easy to lift as he thought. There was some movement in the sand besides the crystal, and he discovered a partially covered black stick that seemed somehow connected to the gem, which he hadn’t noticed before. Upon further inspection, the boy noticed that it was crafted of black marble, which had a glassy appearance, and looked smooth to the touch. Small, intricate runes were etched upon the shaft, running along from top to bottom, radiating with a soft, yellow glow that seemed to amplify the staff’s magnificence.
Cupping his hands under the shaft, he lifted up the staff and held it in his hands, expecting to feel the smooth, glass-like texture. Instead, the staff had an incredibly rough texture, and Vince felt as if he were holding some coarse stone instead of a finely crafted staff. The light that emanated from the crystal began to pulse stronger, the light growing brighter as the boy held on to it. He would have spent more time inspecting the wondrous staff, but was interrupted as a faint humming sound filled the water. He looked up at the crystal and noticed that the light within the crystal began to take on a crimson hue, and the crystal itself began to spin violently, shaking violently atop the staff. The humming grew louder, until it seemed as if he were in the middle of an earthquake. He tried to let go of the staff, which seemed to be reacting violently to his touch, but he couldn’t seem to remove the object from his grasps. The runes flashed brighter and more frequently, and finally, it stopped.
His head seemed as if it were going to explode, the pain was excruciating. His hands felt as if they were on fire, and he couldn’t wrench his grip from the staff which was causing the insufferable pain that was wracking his body with pain. Suddenly, for a short moment the torture subsided, and instead, he found himself knowing ancient languages. Moments later, he had memorized numerous books and scrolls, knew the ancient secrets of magic, and somehow had gained the memory of some ancient being, known as Sarkay, who was neither of this time nor a creature he had ever known before. Magic coursed through his body, the warm, comforting sensation overcoming him and completely numbing out the pain. He stood for a few moments, wishing the feeling would never end, the magic would never leave, but it did, and in its place came the pain again. His head was on fire, and suddenly he wished it would be over with, that he was back in his town, by his mother, and that all of this would go away. He blinked his eyes hard to try and dull the pain, but it only made things worse as blood began to stream out of the corner of his mouth, creating small puffs of blood that drifted out of his mouth, the water around him taking on a reddish tint.
The pain stopped, the water was gone, and Vince found himself lying on his back in the middle of a dirt road. Besides him was a figure kneeling down besides a fountain, she was holding a bucket, and appeared to be gathering water, but dropped the bucket as the instant appearance of the boy startled her. The woman looked down, and her face contorted in horror as she looked as the boy’s face, dripping wet with water and multiple streams of blood running down the sides of his face, coming out of his mouth and ears.
“Vince?!” She gasped, turning to be directly over the boy, her hands wrapping around him as she pulled him closer towards her. Her eyes misted over as she watched the child who seemed to be in a great deal of pain. In his hands he held a magnificent staff, but she only regarded it for a few moments before turning her attention back to the child.
“Momma…” he choked, coughing up more blood and contorting his face in pain as he tried to say more.
A small crowd of men and women had gathered around the scene, curious as to what was happening, watched the boy holding the staff as he weakly lifted a finger. A small tendril of light appeared at his fingertip and began to spiral around, slowly winding down into the palm of his hand. There was a small flash of light as it touched his palm, and in the boy’s hands was a beautiful rose. The boy meekly held it up to the woman, who appeared to be his mother, a faint smile stretching across it as she took the rose and returned his smile, tears rolling down her face. The hand fell to the ground, and the boy’s head lolled to one side as he closed his eyes and let the staff drop from his fingers and to the ground.

* * * * *

The staff sat upon a table, placed within the center of a large hut. It had been brought to the building only an hour earlier, the carriers being wary not to touch it for fear of what had been said to have happened to a small child who had appeared suddenly in the middle of the village, clutching the staff in his hands before he had died.
Tables lined the walls of the room, stretching almost the length of the wall. Seated in plain chairs behind each table were several men, all regarding the staff with a mixture of curiosity and fear. The men were old, all showing the wrinkles of age upon their faces and their eyes revealed a hint of wisdom that can only be gained through age and experience. They had been discussing ideas of what to do with the strange object that had been placed into their possession, proposing various solutions and going over them with scrutiny to decide which was the best idea, although so far, none seemed to agree on any one idea.
They had determined that the staff had obviously come from the ocean, due to the limited information provided by the villagers that had brought it, and that it was dangerous to touch, which was the supposed reason the child had perished. No other information had been provided, and so they were left with an artifact that they believed contained great power, and just as dangerous.
“What about handing the staff over to the Mages’ Guild?” One of the men suggested, “I’m certain they would know how to handle this situation, especially since they have the proper means to protect such an object from those who would seek to use its powers to further their own desires.”
“This would be a good idea,” Another man replied, “but how would we get it there? Their guildhall is located in Mesha, There’s no way we would ever find someone who could make that journey!”
They sat in silence for a few moments, brooding over the problem. The city had a small garrison, and the town guards were few and untrained, being equipped with crude armor that was ill-suited for real combat. There were few candidates for such a task, and they considered sending the fragile package by ship, but quickly dismissed the idea, sailors and merchant ships could not be trusted with such important cargo.
A moment later, a small head peaked in through the doorway, showing the face of an attractive young woman, seeming to be in her early twenties, with a light blue skin tone. She looked shy and almost retreated back to guard the front door, but was further encouraged to speak when one of the elders spoke to her, saying, “Yes, what is it?”
“I… uh, couldn’t help but overhear you talking…” She spoke timidly, staring at the floor and shuffling her feet.
“Yes, go on.” Replied the elder, slightly aggravated to discover the young woman had been eavesdropping.
“I think I could do it, take the staff to Mesha, I mean…” She finished, looking up slightly to meet the old man’s gaze.
The room fell silent as the men were presented with a solution to their problem, albeit maybe not the best choice. Finally another man cleared his throat, attracting the attention of everybody else in the room, including the woman. He said, regarding her with a weary eye, “What makes you think you would be well-suited for this task, woman?”
“Well, uh… I’ve always wanted to go places, see things yah know? Plus, everybody else says that I’m the best fighter in the city garrison, even though that’s not saying much.”
The Miara felt no prejudice towards women who chose to take the path of a warrior, although it was somewhat uncommon. The group knew they could gather a number of guards or soldiers and choose any number of them, but time was important, and so was the need to not attract too much attention. One or two travelers would arouse much less suspicion than a group of twenty or so Miarian troops guarding a single item. “Very well” The elder announced, nodding his head in approval, “If it is of no trouble to you, would you mind leaving within the hour?”
The woman appeared slightly shocked that they would ask her to leave so briefly after just accepting to do such a task in which she knew little to nothing about the object she was going to deliver. Still, she nodded her head and agreed. She had no family, or anything of great value that needed to be attended to, so she was free to decide for herself, although there was one person she wanted to take long with her.
It was after noon, and the sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon line. Miriah paced down the dusty street of the city, which was just beginning to settle down as the inhabitants finished their daily chores and errands and returned to their homes. She carried a large knapsack full of food and money that would support a party of two for a few weeks and had a staff-shaped bundle, wrapped with leather and twine, strapped to her back. Earlier that day she had made one of the biggest decisions of her life, deciding that she didn’t want to live here all of her life in a city serving as a simple guard to some council of elders who governed the port town. The Miara had never been one to have monarchies, instead choosing a group of wise individuals to make all of the decisions. She had told them of another who she wanted to take along, if he would agree to go with her, and they allowed her to do so.
She came upon one of the many plain huts constructed of clay and wood, simple in design, but serving its purpose well. A knock on the door summoned a young man, around the same age as her. The door creaked open slowly, and his face appeared in the opening. He was a handsome man with pearly white eyes and dark blue skin. Seeing that it was Miriah, he opened the door, ushering her inside. He was dreadfully shy, and for as long as she had known him, rarely talked to anybody, her being the exception. The two were childhood friends, having been shunned by the other children when they were young; they quickly grew fond of each other and became friends.
“Hey Miriah, I wasn’t expecting you or anything, what’s with the stuff?” he questioned, motioning to the large knapsack.
“It’s a pack with food and money; I’m going away for a while.” She replied, her tone casual.
The man seemed distraught at the comment, and suddenly his tone seemed panicky, “Where are you going?” He said, trying not to sound too worried.
“Don’t worry Veiren, I was coming by to ask if you wanted to come with me.”
Veiren stood there for a second, surprised by the suddenness of all that was happening. He really didn’t have any family, his parents having died when he was in his adolescence, and his only close friend was Miriah.
“I suppose I could…” He said each word slowly, as if speaking with caution, “But what about our homes, or jobs?”
“Don’t worry about that stuff. Besides, haven’t you ever wanted to travel around the world, explore?” She exclaimed, seeming excited just at the idea. She pouted a bit, and finally he agreed that he would come with her. He retreated into his room and came back a few moments later, wearing the low-grade armor of a town guard. He also retrieved a large white cloak from a crude hook on his wall; the cloaks were great for traveling in the desert, and helped to keep the wearer cool in the hot climate.
The two departed down the road towards Miriah’s house, and Veiren waited outside as she quickly gathered up her savings and some food and put on her own cloak. Finally ready to leave, they headed down the southern road towards the city gate, which took only about several minutes to reach. With a brief nod towards the gate guards, the gate was raised to allow passage and the two of them headed out into the large, barren desert.
© Copyright 2007 ssraistlin (ssraistlin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1261868-Book-chapter