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Rated: 13+ · Novella · Mythology · #1496370
The second installment of my novella, Artisan.
Two dark stones. Onyx stones--one within an amulet and the other bare--sat on the nightstand next to the bed Amnar rented in the inn. He had been packing what little food and extra clothes he and Art would need for their journey, and what little of each he could afford as a man of God. As he stared blankly at the onyxes he could not help but remember how they had come into his possession. He remembered the first day he ever saw one, and as he did, not only the sight of, but the smell, sound, and even feel of that day glowed in the starry heart of amulet's stone.

July 22, Year 1254


A merchant and his mules hauling a cart full of wicker barrels filled with spices, had just been let into the estate of Master Patricius. The merchant made his way through many fields thick with tobacco, and then through neatly-laid-out gardens full of flowerbeds, topiaries, marble statues, and a large fountain--all in front of a lavishly magnificent manor. Along the way many guards dressed in simple beige tunics encased in brown hardened-leather armor patrolled the fields and a handful of these guards seemed to be expecting the merchant. At the head of this subgroup of patrolmen stood a tough but obviously imbecilic captain with a bronze star pinned to his leather chest piece.

Security Guard Captain: Senator and Estate-Master Patricius Cornelius of the Tiberius Family is inside and ready for you to do busyness with 'im! Feel free to explore the estate, but avoid the enclosed orphanage area to your left and behind that little gate. Thank you and good busyness to you!"

Merchant: Erm...thank you. I'll be going inside now.


Although the arrogant trader was more than eager to get away from the moron before him, he took a glance into the orphanage--a playground in front of several wooden shacks. There he saw a boy of perhaps eleven, dressed in linen rags, playing in a sandbox. He had about him the look of anything but a humble monk. This boy was Amnar.

امنر


Amnar looked up from the ground to see the trader, wearing his silk robes and fez hat, walk off into the manor. He then looked back down at the sand again and played with it. He wasn't building sand castles or digging holes or making sandmen or sand-angels, instead he was just feeling the grains as he spoke with his two good friends--a brawny boy named Pannan with short brown hair and brown eyes, and a gaudy boy named Zanril, an elf with long blond hair and bright blue eyes.

Zanril: I'm the best at beating-up people!

Pannan: I think you and I are about the same, Zanril.

Amnar: I'm with Pannan.

Zanril: Shut up, Amnar. Either one of us could take you on any day!

Amnar: You wanna see who's better right now, right here?

Zanril (standing): Yeah, maybe I do.


A loud cry was heard in the distance

Boy in distance: Help! Ahhh! Help me!

Pannan: Shut up the both of you! We have to help Art. Those bullies just shoved Art into a well and their cutting the bucket rope so he can't climb out! Let's show 'em that doing wrong doesn't pay!


Zanril lifted his thumb and aligned it with the knife the bully leader was using, he then swiped a rock from the ground and threw it. It zoomed through the air and slammed into the fingers of the mean kid. He yelped a high-pitched yowl and shook his swollen, red digits hysterically. The tiny and rusty knife flew out of his hand and at that moment Pannan, having drawn his toy sword, and Amnar charged the three evil-doers.

The first bully watched as his partner was struck in the cheek by a wooden gladius only to be tackled seconds later by Amnar. The third and leader bully, Conradus, was much bigger and stronger due to his age of fourteen years, and he swung his fist at Pannan's nose. It hit and the sword-wielding hero fell to the grassy floor stunned.

Amnar backed off in fear, but this only fed Conradus, who approached his next victim. Just as Amnar thought his end had arrived, a little girl of no more than nine jumped onto the monster's back, and by the time he managed to shake her off, Amnar had gotten up. He threw a perfect punch into Conradus's belly and made him cough up a gale.

By now the last of the bullies ran off and Zanril awoke Pannan up as Amnar and the girl looked down the well.

Zanril: Haha! You knocked the windy piss out of him!

Pannan: Ouch! Gah! My head hurts like hell! Get Art out of that ditch would you?

Girl: I can't see him.

Amnar: He's not down there.


Indeed, Amnar saw nothing more than a dried up, dusty and empty well--with a small gap in the wall just big enough for a kid to fit through.

Girl: Art! Art! Come out of there!

Then, slowly but with an all-of-a-sudden feel, Art squeezed himself out. Amnar, Pannan, Zanril, and the girl all lowered a rope. He grabbed on and climbed out saftely, although not gracefully at all.

Art: Thank you guys so much for getting me out of there! I could've starved to death or been eaten by well rats.

Zanril: There's no such thing as well rats.

Amnar: Yes there is!

Zanril: No there's not!

Pannan: What's in that bag you have there? Is it a reward? A congratulations on a quest well completed?

Art: Actually it is. Down there I found a little cave and in it there was this bag full of black stones. There's five of them.


Art took one of the onyxes out and showed it off. Then he gave it to Amnar. He handed two others to Pannan and Zanril right afterward.

Pannan, Zanril, Amnar: Thanks Art.

Pannan: Hey, Amnar, Zanril, let us continue to patrol the yard in search for more heroic quests to do.


The girl and Art were alone now, but still within Amnar's earshot.

Art: Thanks Aemilia.

Girl: Its the least I could do. You were my friend when no one else would be. They're just jealous of me because of how special Master Patricius treats me.

Art: Please...please take this stone. I hope you love it.

Aemilia: Oh...Art. It's so pretty.

Art: Like you.


His face turned cherry red at that moment.

Aemilia: I love it!

Art: Do you think someday we'll be married?

Aemilia: I can't silly. I'm already married.

Art: To who?


The estate master walked up to the two children and looked at Aemilia and her onyx with his usual serious and scornful--almost guilty in a way--look.

Patricius: Aemilia! Give me that stone immediately. Theft will not be tolerated here.

The look on Aemilia's face turned pale, but not with fear alone. She had the look of endless scars on her, and turned around with her head facing the floor. Amnar, even from such a distance, could see her eyes watering. This was not something like bullies or adventures; this was something serious and real--something horrible. He could see, in the simplest terms possible, pain.

Aemilia: But--

Patricius: Shut up. Give me the stone and come into my quarters where we will discuss your punishment.

Art (whispering): I will rescue you, Aemilia. Someday.


امنر


With a hard shaking of his head, Amnar left the memory. He quickly glanced around and found himself back in the inn. Art came into the room with another mug of stout.

Amnar: Art, get a bed and a good night's rest. Tomorrow morning we head to the Patricius plantation. I think it's a good place to start looking for Aemilia.

Art: Thanks again, Amnar.


He left the room and Amnar was alone again. He laughed to himself.

Amnar: To think a mere childhood gift lead us to all this. Just an orphan's stone.





© Copyright 2008 N.N. Woodbury (nnwoodbury at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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