(What follows is one possible opening for the book. I'm still not sure if I want to write this in first person or third person. Both have their advantages, I hope the emotion I felt while writing this comes through my words. I literally cried when writing the second paragraph O.o, I probably need sleep)
The moment still haunts my dreams or should I say my nightmares. I looked into her eyes, my own were reflected in their dark pools. Curls of dirty brown hair hung down across her emerald cheeks serving as the perfect highlight to her beautiful smile. Those sharp little teeth glitter in the late morning sun light, those teeth human beings find so threatening I found utterly adorable. The answer to my question danced upon her blushing lips, the answer that would never come.
A burst of balmy air rushed past my right cheek, the scent of blood assaulted my nostrils. A hot mist of the sickeningly fragrant green fluid splashed across my face, burning my eyes but they did not close. Those beautiful pools of darkness quickly became empty; they were void of life in an instant. A guttural cry of pain issued from her lips, but even that was cut short. I did not understand what had happened, but I knew in my heart she would never answer me again.
A human pushed me aside laughing; I crumpled to the ground without protest. I did not resist, I could not have even if every ounce of my being cried out for revenge. The scent of blood overpowered me; I lay with my face in her warm essence as a boot crushed into my spine. I could see then the cruel weapon that changed my fate parting those sweat curls of brown right down the middle, a perfect strike on the crown of her head. Tears beckoned to my eyes but none came, her blood burned like fire but still I did not close my eyes.
The solider crushed me with his boot as he bent over me and tugged his weapon from her lifeless corpse. The sound of it still haunts me even when I am waking. I knew then, for the first time in my short and cruel life, I was not a person. I was just a toy, a plaything, an item to be used and discarded by my masters at their whim. Things were never to improve, things were never to get better. I, Taeorg, would never be married to my dear sweet Aielle, in this life or the next for I had no soul. I was worse than an animal, lower than the dirt itself.
Finally my eyes closed shut and I passed out there in her quickly cooling vitae and I am honestly unsure I ever woke up. When my eyes opened once more I was no longer the same, the world had lost what little luster it had once held for me. My heart was cold, I felt nothing whatsoever. I did not want revenge on the humans that had done to this to me, even when I found out that the whole thing had been part of a bet to see who could throw their axe the most accurately. Lofty emotions like anger and hatred where above items such as myself, I had no right to claim them.
I supposed my master saw something in me then; saw that I was truly broken for the first time in my life. My training was complete and I the bastard child whose mother had died being birth to me was shipped off the very next day. I am not sure where I was or for how long I worked there. I was a soulless farming machine, no different from a plow or another inanimate tool. Knowing that I may very well spend the rest of eternity tilling soil and caring for live stock and hauling produce to market on my back bothered me not at all, nothing mattered anymore.
Years went by where I did not sleep, because those eyes were there waiting for me. They were asking me why, why didn’t I do anything? Why couldn’t I have been one inch to the right, why couldn’t it have been me? Why did they spare me, the questions in those eyes were as endless as the void itself. I could not face them, I did not sleep so I worked even in the darkest hours of the night. Human eyes could not see in the darkness but goblin eyes worked just fine day or night.
I did not know it at that time by my hard work and tireless dedication to my job impressed my new human master a great deal. No other goblin worked as hard or as long or as well as I. He mistook my mindless droning behavior for something more, something he thought he could use. This misunderstanding would ultimately be his undoing, but such is the whim of the fickle fates that rule us all. Lord Alistair would take me into his home, to be educated in human language both written and spoken. It is only because of his unusual kindness that I am able to write what you are reading now.
Author
Topic: The Black Book of Tatteredmoon (Read 590 times)