opps *dpm* [act]nom nom nom[/act] SORRY!
So i have scraped most of what i have written and started again. Sorry to make you guys read more! ;D.
This is the Prologue and the first chapter. I don't think i changed the prologue but i thought it would be easier if i just put it together. Yet again i as for harsh criticism because i reallly want to get this right!
Prologue
Narlusia had never been peaceful. Kings never ruled for long, and when they did they were of the blackest hearts. The land was growing weak under such harsh command and those who were of the earth grew worried. During the reign of Rangulo war broke out. Different races fought for the possession of the land while Rangulo crowded himself with enchantresses who taught him magic.
The Shar’lians saw that Rangulo was growing too strong and needed to be stopped, and together with people from Ali’Sheel, they planned an attack. But their presence was betrayed, and Rangulo learned of the uprising so he also prepared for war.
The two armies met in the middle of Narlusia and fought so vigorously that both sides would eventually wipe each other out. The dragons, the wisest of all the creatures, foresaw the destruction of the Shar’lians and interfered with the battle. Rangulo was forced to withdraw and did so with a fuming rage. The Shar’lians and people from Ali’Sheel were told to flee the land. Only the Shar’lians listened.
The king made a vow to kill as many dragons as he could. He was always away hunting so his son, Illem, was not able to mimic the evil ways of his father. Illem grew up loving trees and animals. He wanted to learn about the world from the wise and noble Shar’lians.
One day when the king was in pursuit of a ruby red dragon, Illem saw that his father would be gone for the best of a month and he planned a trip to the beautiful island of Shar’lia. During the journey Illem was reacquainted with a good friend, Evan, the nimpha of stone.
When they reached Shar’lia they were welcomed with open arms. The Shar’lians were a proud and noble race gifted with magic and flexibility. Every chance they had Illem and Evan visited Shar’lia. Illem was taught to fight and Evan was taught to use his magic. They both became experts in what they did.
Then the unexpected happened. Illem fell in love, and every visit he fell deeper still until he couldn’t bear to leave her. They both planned a marriage, but it was unheard of for a Shar’lian to marry a normal human. They were forced to be separated.
One day the young girl found a way to see him; she told him that if he could kill his father she would be safe to live with him forever. Illem immediately planned his father’s death. He waited for the night his father would return.
The king returned and as he slept was slaughtered by his own son. But something went wrong and a strange power entered Illem’s head. It was magic, and the magic was trying to change him. He felt invincible and laughed with delight. Finally, this was what he wanted.
So began the story of Illem. He was by far the most evil of the kings. He hated anyone who defied him and vowed to cut them open and demolish their insides. He wanted power over everyone so he offered a place in his army to anyone who possessed magic; if his offer was rejected he killed them quickly with enchantment.
The magic had changed him. The young woman he loved came to see him and he had tried to murder her. He wanted only to rule the world, so he gathered together a vile army.
Most of the sorcerers and enchantresses joined his vast forces, and with them he was supreme ruler. But he was thirsty for more power still and declared war after war on the ancient people of the lands. The Shar’lians offered a haven on their island that was protected by ancient magic, and Illem could not venture there, so the few who still lived were safe.
But those who Illem hated most were the nimphas. He planned their individual slow, painful deaths. Slowly they died out as Illem slew them one by one. The land mourned for the nimphas and declared again more war.
Illem’s army fought against the land. For months the battle raged on. Each side suffered major losses and they both grew weak. Illem, for the first time, was afraid. The fear grew on him and caused him to grow old. His skin aged and his hair grew white, his nails split and fell off.
In fear of his life he stole others. He wiped out entire forests from the maps, leaving dry, dead trees in their places. With the power he had stolen he grew stronger than anyone who had lived before him.
But he was still afraid and it played on his mind. His dreams showed his death, his life taken by a miserable nimpha. So he sought even stronger life forms and took the lives of the dragons. And after one long year those few who still dared defy him stood for one last battle. The ‘Weeping Battle’.
For Illem it was a minor challenge and he was superior within the first day. He had no pity and left non alive. And so those, if there were any, retreated back to Ali’Sheel, the only city Illem feared to attack.
Those few who survived lived there lives quietly, as if even a whisper would bring the wrath of Illem down upon them. But slowly, steadily, they built up their defences. They trained there men for battle and set up connections around the land.
Maybe, just maybe, they could hold on until a ruler was born to lead them.
Boy set in the past
‘Just hit him, Loch!’ screamed a very pouty, small girl; ‘If you don’t our team will lose. Again!’
It was ridiculous, he knew it was ridiculous. But life at the Ali’Sheel castle was often absurd. All this nonsense about training. It seemed from the day Loch was born he was thrust in to a training exercise. Yes, sure he was a Nimpha, sure one day he would be inherit some sort of oddity people called magic and sure he was in supposed danger because magic was only permitted for those on the side of ‘evil’. But why all this training!
Loch swallowed hard; this was the eighth time he had missed. He regrasped the bat with two sweaty hands and held it in front of him at a rather awkward angle. His questioning would have to wait.
A solid hand gripped his shoulder tightly. Loch looked up into the eyes of Evan, the blacksmith.
‘Steady boy, once you gain the ability to exert your magics and are a full Nimpha, you will have less need for these training exercises.’
Loch nodded but added under his breath ‘Less need?’
‘Yes, yes’ huffed Ari with her usual undermining charm, ‘But until that day he will have to learn to hit him,’ she pointed to Bara, the abnormally freckly red haired boy standing stiffly with a bat in his own hand.
Loch sighed; he knew they gave him Bara, the easiest to beat, because he never won anything. Blurred thoughts swamped his mind, as they always did.
‘LOCH!’ Ari’s voice pulled him out of his deep mind and into the present.
Wiping his grubby hands on his trousers once more, Loch breathed out his aspiration and prayed that Bara would have mercy on him. Ari had already spoken the rules and was about to give the signal to begin.
‘Remember to stay on the balls of your feet,’ warned Evan, ‘else you will fall flat on your face at Bara’s first swing!’
Loch gulped back a fearful yelp. This was his second training ‘game’ this month, and the last time he had attended he had been taken to the healing ward to be treated for what he had hoped was a broken wrist. Sadly it was only badly bruised. So he had to endure another round. Ridiculous!
‘GO!’ screeched Ari, her brown hair whipping the side of her face and her voice spooking a couple of onlooking birds, ‘’Atta boy Loch! GET HIM!’
Bara had slowly began the circling, edging closer to Loch. He could almost hear his wheezing breathe as he, too, began to circle. Loch’s heart thumped so loudly he could have sworn that Bara could hear it. His leg began trying to cramp already. Loch tried to steady his breathing, and then the throbbing of memories started.
Blotchy patches of light, a few flickering images. Loch tried blinking, but that hurt so he shook his head instead. By the time he looked up the memories were gone. So was Bara.
Panic coursed through his body, confusion ebbed its way down to his feet and he could barely stop himself from tripping.
Where is he?
‘See you in the healing ward.’ Bara whispered behind him.
What was that? Did Bara just attempt a joke!? Wait, he’s behind . . .
Bara’s bat was brought heavily down upon Loch’s unprotected head. Lights appeared, though not from memories. A splitting pain riveted through his skull. He fell to the ground in a dizzying heap.
Am I dying?
Ari’s face edged into view.
I don’t want to die . . .
She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up, her wide hazel eyes flashed with concentration. She turned her head and was obviously screaming, but to Loch it was as if she was whistling. Whistling very high pitch.
Maybe death isn’t too bad.
He tried to move his aching eyes but they refused to do his will. He tried to shut them, but when he did Ari shook him vigorously. The whistling increased, his ears pounded. A shadow hastened across his vulnerable face and when he tried to yell out, his mouth clamped shut.
It was only Evan. He stared goggle eyed down at him. Loch felt incriminated; everyone stared at him with a worried shock. Even some of the other boys, boys who would always tease him, came to look at him with the same look of horror on their faces.
He couldn’t hear a thing. He just lay there on the dirt in silence, with a massively pounding head. Everyone was watching, everyone was staring. Ari had made room for Evan who slowly knelt down beside him.
Loch knew the blacksmith was speaking to him, but try as he did, he couldn’t hear or respond. The whistling was unbearable. His sweaty palms tried to move, tried to grasp the ground. He began to lose his breath and his lungs were running low of air. He tried gulping it up, with aching gasps. If Evan was going to do something, he had better make it quick.
A build up of sweat on his face told him that his heart was racing wildly. Evan, calm eyed, rested his hand upon Loch’s brow.
His heart began to slow and his breathing returned to normal almost instantly. The whistling stopped.
Evan the blacksmith, also called Evan the Stone Nimpha, had managed to summon the correct healing magics. Voices began eerily seeping into Loch’s ears. His pounding head slowly drummed its pain away, and at last he could move his dry eyes.
He was recovering, though he didn’t know what from. He was sure that a hit on the head wouldn’t have caused that much trouble.
Then he heard the bells. Their chiming sound weaved its way through the whole courtyard, sending an urgent message. ‘A spy is in the castle.’
Everyone forgot about him, though he was recovering quickly with the aid of Evan’s magics. Panic rounded everyone into a circle and parents rushed into the courtyard to grab their children.
‘How did they get in?’
‘What do they want?’
Millions of questions rotated around and around, but no one could answer them. The bigger boys, those who would grow up to be warriors and maybe even knights helped herd the younger, more helpless, boys to safety.
Ari, the only girl who would learn to fight, had commandeered the nearest weapon and was brandishing it around her head. She gave her warrior like and rather scary, scream and then brought her weapon to a halt. Loch managed to hoist himself into a sitting position, and though he would never admit, Ari rather frightened him when she got like that.
Evan looked disapprovingly ‘And who do you think you will be stopping?’ He asked her in his matter of fact manner, ‘If there is a spy in the castle then it is most likely they have already been found. No need to panic anyone.’
Ari scowled but honoured Evan’s words. He was possible the only man who supported her role as a learning female warrior.
‘So what would you like me to do?’ she asked, in a little less than polite way, ‘Carry him to safety? Risk my own neck? Go into hiding!?’
Evan almost rolled his eyes, he looked down to Loch and muttered, ‘Sitting down and shutting up wouldn’t hurt.’
‘I heard that!’
Loch grunted in annoyance, it seemed a day didn’t pass without Evan and Ari arguing like a father and daughter.
‘EVAN!’ The strong womanly voice pierced the petty argument before it could expand. Evan whisked around to face a pale woman with long black hair and a firmly square face, the princess, Aleta.
‘Your majesty!’ he kneeled but Aleta quickly ushered him up.
Ari imitated Evan’s ‘your majesty’ sarcastically and poked her tongue out while Aleta wasn’t looking.
‘We have no time for this, get up and follow me.’ She said, ‘You won’t be needed.’ She added icily, looking in Ari’s direction. Ari shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Not even the females seemed to support her role in a man’s job.
Evan hurried after Aleta who had not waited for an answer. Loch stared puzzling after him.
Ari plonked herself down next to him. ‘So . . .’ She let the word drag on as if wanting him to speak, when he didn’t she gave an extra large sigh.
‘You know,’ she started, a hint of wryness in her voice, ‘I could never understand why Evan favoured you when I was a younger girl. And,’ She took a dramatic pause, ‘I have figured out the answer!’ She stared at him with an intense smile, then, seeing his less than impressed reaction, carried on. ‘They are going to take you to Shar’lia! You will be with the next lot carted over there.’
Loch was stirred. She couldn’t be right, could she? No, it was too absurd. But then most things in Ali’Sheel were.
Ari knew she had struck a string she gave a small laugh then stood up and left, shaking dirt from her back and flicking loose hair from her face. Leaving a wisp of air and an impending feeling of fear in Loch’s chest.
***
Once he had returned to his room Loch crawled into his bed. It seemed to be a massive comfort, his bed. It had gotten him through multiple bulling and helped fill in the spots of neglect in his heart.
His parents were no longer with him. His poor mother, Nyra Faye, had died during childbirth. The last thing she knew was her son was safe. His father, Morrow Faye, was executed not long after. He had stumbled into an ambush and had been taken by three sorcerers. Loch knew them by name, Gyan Harfel, Goris Baden and Hoo Fenn. They seemed such petty names for the men who had murdered his father. He wished they were more vicious sounding, so he could pretend that his father had fought the most evil men in the whole world. If he was brave enough he would vow to murder them, but he knew it was impossible. He shook his sore head and let a single tear fall from his face. His father slaughtered and he never knew his mother, Evan shipping him to Ali’Sheel, and a lack of magics. He was a downright boring oddy!
