The Fires of Truth
Mikyl looked around; the fires burned brightly and he noticed that there were people standing all around him, though paying him no attention. His next realization was that he wasn’t just being ignored; it was as if he didn’t exist at all. He noticed that their features were strange, he looked at faces that he had never seen before and some he hoped he would never see again. He looked at one closely, and started to see something else in the face some thing that looked very much like the way a cat’s face does right after it has made a successful kill. Suddenly someone he hadn’t seen before stepped out of the shadows and started speaking to the rest of the group.
Mikyl quickly ran and hid behind an urn, he knew he couldn’t be seen but something about the man made him want to run from him, as he got himself settled he started to listen and what he heard didn’t seem to make sense, “The time to act is now. Long enough have we waited its time to take what is ours and show them all that it really those who laugh last that laugh hardest. It’s taken many years, but we’re ready and they’re not and if we don’t take advantage of the situation we’ll lose our chance to grab power from those who wield it lightly, and leave nothing but discontent and devastation from inaction in their wake. Once and for all we will take down this menace and insert true order among the peoples. The time to rise is now and it will be a hard fight, it will be a long fight, but in the end we will prevail because we have something they don’t.”
The man quickly made and odd hand gesture and two more men came out of the shadows dragging along, from what he could see from around the urn, what seemed to be the form of a man his hands tied behind his back and a sack over his head. The man gave another signal and the sack was removed and … Suddenly he was drowning … no he was just in a cold sweat…
“No it’s not that either” he thought, he looked around still half asleep and saw his sister standing over him with an empty cup.
“Finally it took you long enough. I’ve been calling you and shaking you to wake up you were having one of your dreams again, so I went and got some water to wake you up” she said.
“Oh, yeah it was one of those dreams… hey you don’t have any food with you do you?” he asked.
“Actually I did bring you something. You always wake up half starved” she said.
“Thanks Melanie” Mikyl said taking the banana from her. His sister left him to dress and he sat in his wet clothes, eating the fruit and thinking about the dream he had had. Why was it that he could never see the bound mans face? He puzzled over it then gave up and got dressed. As he was leaving the room he stopped and turned back remembering to go back for his good luck charm he had been given on his last birthday. He never left without it, it just seemed to make things go right for him. He pulled it out from under his pillow and left the room.
As he went through his morning chores his thoughts kept drifting back to his dream. What did it all mean? Where was that place and why did everyone look so strange or angry? He put it out of his mind; he was already behind on his chores due to a late start and he had a lot to do today. Besides Melanie would kill him if he was late to dinner again. Suddenly he felt dizzy and sat down.
Mikyl took a drink from his water flask and said “If I keep this up I’m going to end up dead.” Suddenly he had a fleeting memory of his mother saying “If you don’t pace yourself you’ll work yourself to death.”
He missed his mother; she had always been there for them with a bit of advice or a story. But they were alone now that she had died. He remembered sitting by her bed while she was racked by shakes from the sickness that had passed through the village. Now it was just him and Melanie. Melanie she was the one who took care of them now that mother was gone. He didn’t remember anything about his father except the stories his mother had told him and the fact that he had left the village. Now that he thought about it she had never told him why he had left the village.
“Well I had better get back to work. There’s still a lot to do.” He said to himself.
Later that evening as Mikyl sat eating dinner with Melanie he started to wonder if she remembered anything about their father since she was older than him. He pondered over just what he would say when suddenly she started talking.
“You know Terry the butchers son right?”
“Of course, he used to play with me when I was little. Why?” He asked.
“Well he’s asked me to marry him. It would be good for us and he’s a nice man. What do you think?” asked Melanie.
Mikyl was dumbfounded. He sat with his mouth hanging open trying to take it all in. It would be good for them and he knew that Terry was a good person as well as a good match for his sister. What he couldn’t get his head around was the fact that he had never noticed any change between the two beforehand, it was a total shock. He had never even thought of it before. Why wouldn’t she be like the other girls in the village and get married.
He managed to splutter out “I’m happy for you, you’ll make a great couple.”
She laughed relived “Oh good, I was so worried that you might feel badly toward this idea. Its good to know you’re ok with this, he’s always been very kind to us and he is rather handsome….”
After that what she said just seemed to fade out of his mind. He finished eating and put away his dishes and went to bed. Before he fell asleep he grasped his good luck charm his mother had given to him as a final gift a small stone ring in the shape of a spider saying “I guess it has a wider range of luck than I thought.”
The next morning he went out and completed his chores early and then began thinking of the previous nights events. Mikyl realized that having given his consent as the man of the family, having turned fifteen, the marriage would take place in three days time the usual time before a decided wedding. He decided to go tell the news to his friend Rizdon who was the son of the blacksmith. Rizdon was a good friend loyal and smart though a little cowardly. He was the same age as Mikyl and had a mind for invention and came up with all sorts of contraptions, most of which he couldn’t find any use for. He was one other thing a great lover of stories and if he heard a story once he knew it forever. Rizdon had also lost his mother to the great sickness that had passed through the village but he still had his father. Mikyl remembered their childhood together he considered them his extended family. He smiled he knew he would always had someone to turn to.
When he arrived at the smithy he knocked on the door and a loud boom sounded from inside. Big black smoke started to billow from around the door. Mikyl burst into the room.
“What happened? Is everyone ok?” he said.
“Cough…Yeah we’re ok…Cough.” said Rizdon
“Yeah sonny boy here was just showing me how this powder could be used to heat my forge but…Cough… It seems to cause an explosion in large amounts.” Said Rizdon’s father Buck
“Well at least no one was hurt this time.” said Mikyl. He remembered the last experiment Rizdon had tried. He had been there for that one he couldn’t keep his balance for a week and sometimes he still had a ringing sound in his ears.
“Ha Ha very funny” said Rizdon sarcastically “last time I checked you wanted to see me try that one so it’s your own fault. They all began to laugh remembering some of the previous experiment and then started to clean up the smithy. Then Mikyl remembered why he was there.
“Hey Rizdon did you hear my sister is getting married” he said.
“Really that’s great” said Rizdon.
“Yeah it’s good to hear you two will be looked after” said Buck
“You both will be at the wedding right?” said Mikyl
“Of course we will we wouldn’t miss it for the world” Rizdon and Buck said in unison. They all laughed again. Mikyl knew that the wedding would turn out fine now that he would have some help from his extended family. He even started to look forward to staying with Terry’s family. But what he didn’t know was that the fates had decided to give him a greater story than even Rizdon had heard of and this was just the beginning. There was more to come for them both. . . so much more.
Chapter one
As the preparations were being made there was much to be done, a ceremony to be organized, clothing to be mended, and one of the more important functions, a feast to prepare. As it was, Mikyl had been paired with Rizdon to go and harvest a couple of sheep for the feast. Mikyl awoke the next day and he quickly threw on his clothes, a thick leather outfit. He figured if he was going to go harvesting sheep he had better be prepared to be bitten and butted by the guard ram. While it was not overly dangerous one still had to be careful the rams could do serious damage and it was best to bring a friend so one could distract the ram, and so the other could get the job done. Mikyl walked out into the kitchen and grabbed an apple as he headed out the door and headed toward the outer edge of the village where Rizdon’s house was situated. He stopped along the way at Terry’s house and stepped inside.
“Hello?” Mikyl asked, looking around the seemingly abandoned butchery.
“Hello yourself” Terry said stepping out of a back room. His normally very curly hair was plastered, straight, and shiny against his head.
“What have you done to your hair” Mikyl asked in disbelief at the sight of the usually very curly haired man.
“I wanted to look nice for the ceremony and decided I’d try and tame my hair. What?You don’t like it?” Terry asked in Mikyl’s silent wonder at how he had managed to tame his hair.
“What did you put in your hair to make it do that?” Mikyl asked pointing at his scalp.
“Just a little animal fat, why does it look bad?” Terry asked Mikyl a suddenly worried expression coming over his face.
“No it’s … fine just unusual” Mikyl said
“Oh, ok, well I wouldn’t want to confuse the bride by showing up looking too different” Terry said as he looked at Mikyls expression.
“But I might recommend getting that stuff out of your hair before it goes rancid too, otherwise she might not want to come near you” Mikyl said with a warning tone.
“Ahh you’re right, well then I’m off to get this goop out of my hair” Terry said turning to go.
“Oh wait before you go, I forgot to ask you, can I borrow a knife?” Mikyl asked
“Uh sure, but why do you need one, didn’t you get one for your last birthday?” Terry asked turning back around.
“Umm,” Mikyl started, avoiding his eyes and beginning to fidget.
“You lost it didn’t you” Terry said.
Before he could stop himself the whole thing came out at once “Well I was throwing at a tree and then the bush moved and I thought it was a rabbit and I threw the knife to see if I could get it but it was a wild boar and the knife got stuck and it started running and I chased it to get the knife back but it was faster and it got away and that’s how I lost the knife.”
“At least it comes with a good story” Terry said with a smile.
“So you’ll lend me a knife” Mikyl asked.
“Sure as long as you don’t lose it, but what do you need it for” Terry asked.
“As the head of my family it’s my duty for the ceremony to go harvest a prime sheep for the meal and I sort of
need a knife” Mikyl said
“Oh, well I’m not one to hold up a wedding feast especially my own, give me just a second and I’ll go get you a nice sharp one” Terry said as he turned and went into the back room. He came back a moment later with a blade about six inches in length honed to a razors edge and polished to a shine.
“You’re really going to lend me that” Mikyl asked entranced by the perfection of the blade.
“Sure you’ll need the best to get the best” Terry responded with a smile handing Mikyl the knife.
Mikyl didn’t give him a chance to change his mind but took the offered knife, gave his thanks and quickly rushed out the door. As he headed toward Rizdon’s house he couldn’t help but imagine the kind of sheep he and Rizdon would get. As he approached the smithy Rizdon was already outside waiting for him. If there was one thing about Rizdon that annoyed him it had to be that Rizdon was taller than him and had been as long as he could remember. But it wasn’t something he could hold against his closest friend since they were toddlers. When he got a little closer Rizdon noticed him and called out.
“Hey good morning about time you got here sleepy head”
“Hey I wasn’t asleep I had to stop by Terry’s and borrow a knife”
“Why did you need a knife you just got one for your birthday didn’t you?”
“It’s a long story, so I’ll tell you later”
“Well it better be a good one. I mean I ought to get something out of this whole deal”
“You do, a meal and it’s a good story, even Terry liked it”
“We should get started if we want to find a good one soon”
“Of course” agreed Mikyl, inwardly cringing.
To catch a sheep you had to first outwit the mother plant, this being made difficult by a particularly aggressive ram residing at the end of one of the tendrils.
Having made their preparations they headed out over the fields. They had been walking for several minutes when Rizdon deemed to speak his mind.
“You… probably should have brought a sling, you know. Won’t it be easier if we have a distraction?”
“Shaddup,” snapped Mikyl in reply, tightening his grip on the knife he now carried.
“It was this or nothing at all. Besides, I can always make one when we get there.”
“Yeah, well have fun avoiding the ram if you can’t…” Rizdon trailed off as Mikyl blanched.
“We’ll worry about that later,” said Mikyl. “Now we need to find a good plant. This sheep must be the best; it’s
for my sister’s wedding after all.”
“Think there’d be any up on Boulder Hill?” asked Rizdon
Mikyl thought for a moment, and then agreed. He’d never been there before, and figured that even if they didn’t find a sheep plant the experience would still be worth it. As they trudged upward, Mikyl picked up the sound of distant noises, that of sheep bleating. He and Rizdon crept closer, keeping to the ground so as not to alert the ram. They finally spotted the plant, and their mouths dropped open.
The plant had two rams.
“Uh… Mikyl?” whispered Rizdon. “Maybe we should go find another one…” He turned and was horrified to see the smile widening on Mikyl’s face.
“Only the best for my sister’s wedding,” he said grinning.
He took off his belt and snatched up a rock at his feet. Loading it into his makeshift sling, he twirled it above his head and let it fly. As he had hoped, the rock hit a tree on the other side of the clearing. Both rams glared warily in that direction, and began ambling threateningly toward the trees.
Mikyl and the nervous Rizdon took the opportunity to gaze on the veritable flock grazing vulnerable before them.
“Which one should I take…?” murmured Mikyl thoughtfully.
“Whichever ones closest!” blurted Rizdon. “Let’s just get it and scram!”
“Ah, where’s your sense of adventure? You’ve got no spine, Rizdon,” jeered Mikyl.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” snarled Rizdon. “I’ll make you eat those words. In fact I’ll shove them down your throat so hard your grandchildren are gonna get indigestion!”
And with that, he leaped into the clearing, brandishing his knife and heading for the nearest sheep. Upon seeing his approach it began bleating wildly, and the rams’ heads shot up. Their hate-filled eyes sought out the perpetrator and they charged snorting fiercely.
Micheal snatched up another stone and threw, hoping to distract the rams. All it did was anger them further as it bounced off one of the other sheep. The bell of the main plant began to turn an angry red as the rams charged. Rizdon dived from their path just before they bowled him over, and their momentum carried them deep into the thicket to Mikyl’s left. The tendrils attaching them to the main plant pulsed quickly as the rams tore their way out of the thorn bushes, their anger again doubled. Mikyl dove into the fray, twisting his leather sling about one ram’s legs and tying them together. As he gazed frantically about for Rizdon, the second ram pulled free and charged angrily at the one who immobilized its companion. Mikyl leaped desperately in the air, grabbing a tree branch and hoisting himself up and he felt the small branch wavering under his weight and he hoped it would hold. And so it did, to his relief, until the ram hit the tree. Running full-force, the ram shook the tree hard enough that the branch shook up and down until it broke. Mikyl fell down, flopping straight onto the ram’s back. He twisted himself and wrapped his arms around the ram’s neck as the beast took off, charging again at Mikyl’s companion. Rizdon, meanwhile, was sawing away at the tendril connecting a sheep to the main plant.
“Come on, come on,” he growled, in a hurry to escape this horrid plant. He was halfway through the thick tendril when a cry from Mikyl made him look behind him . . .
. . . to stare straight into the crazed ram’s eyes as it ran him over. Purely by reflex, his hand shot out in an attempt to stop the beast before it caused too much damage. Unfortunately, it was the hand holding the knife.
As the ram collapsed, nectar spilling from its wound, Mikyl leaped off its back and turned to face Rizdon.
“You idiot!” he cried. “You can’t kill the ram or the whole plant dies!”
“Well this one had two rams!” retorted Rizdon. Then a disturbing thought occurred to him and he added, “So what do you think happens if only one of the two dies?”
The two companions slowly turned to face the main plant. It was convulsing wildly, tremors beginning from its bell, shooting along the tendrils until they reached the sheep, tossing the sheep into the air to twirl around the bell, bleating wildly.
“Is it . . . breeding?” asked Mikyl in disbelief.
“Quick, grab a sheep!” yelled Rizdon, thinking quickly.
The two tackled a sheep as it soared past, pinning it to the ground. Suddenly the tendrils twitched, convulsed, separating the sheep from the ends and sending them all flying into the distance, save for the one pinned by Mikyl and Rizdon. Miles away, a starving village was saved by the sudden arrival of an airborne flock of sheep.
“Think this’ll do?” asked Rizdon, looking sadly at the remaining sheep.
“After all we went through, it better,” groaned Mikyl.
The sheep slung over his shoulders, Mikyl trekked back through the forest with Rizdon on his heels. Suddenly, he saw a flash of red through the trees in the valley far below. Abruptly changing direction, he headed toward the cliffs, leaving a mildly confused Rizdon behind. After a brief pause, Rizdon crashed through the ferns after him.
Eventually, he caught up with Mikyl on a hill overlooking the main road. Following his friend’s astonished gaze into the valley below, his eyes widened as he beheld the strangest creature he had ever seen. Like a caterpillar, it crawled along the valley floor, its back a bright, jaunty red and its sides a shade of yellow that hurt to look at.
“What is it?” asked Rizdon, stunned.
“Let’s find out,” replied Mikyl, and without further ado he bounded down the slope, the sheep bouncing weirdly on his shoulders. When they reached the valley floor, they found to their disappointment that the ‘caterpillar’ was no more than a peculiar string of carts, headed by muzzled bears and a motley crew of men and women, some of whom wore hooded cloaks, concealing their faces.
One of the leading men’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the pair, and he steered his bear over toward them. “And who might you gentlemen be?” he asked, his eyes taking in their patched jerkins and scuffed, dirty skin, finally coming to rest staring directly into their eyes.
“Hunters for Boulden, our village,” said Mikyl, shifting the sheep on his shoulders. The man seemed to relax somewhat, so Mikyl asked tentatively, “Who are you?”
“We’re traders,” replied the man. “We travel between cities, selling and buying goods as we find them. We come from all corners of the continent, hence our…varied appearances.” He nodded toward the hooded people. “I wouldn’t mess with them too much, they don’t take kindly to people nagging them about what’s under the hoods.”
“If you travel from city to city, then why haven’t we seen you before?” asked Rizdon.
“No offense, but we didn’t know you existed. You’re hidden back in the mountains, through several treacherous passes and similar dangers. We’ve heard about bandit activity recently in the mountains, but we were forced to come this way because our normal pass was blocked by a landslide this year.” He looked over his shoulder.
“Look, we’d best be on our way. Perhaps you could lead us to this Boulden. I’m sure you’d be interested in our wares.”
Mikyl and Rizdon shared a glance. Neither of them saw any harm in trading, so they accepted. “It’s this way,” said Mikyl, pointing back up over the hills, the way he and Rizdon had come.
The trader looked at him like he was insane. “How are we supposed to get wagons over those?” he asked incredulously. “We’ll need some sort of road.”
“Oh. That’s fine too,” Rizdon said. “It’ll just take a lot longer. We should get there a little after noon tomorrow if we take the road.”
“You’re welcome to spend the night with us,” offered the trader, gesturing at the setting sun. “You can tell us a bit more about your village.” Mikyl and Rizdon gratefully accepted, neither of whom much enjoyed the prospect of traveling across the mountains at night.
Later, the traders stopped for the night, arranging their wagons in a circle to prevent wild animals from entering the campsite while they were asleep. Sitting around the fire, Mikyl couldn’t help but stare discreetly at the mysterious hooded men. Many of them had strange protrusions bulging from the hoods: one had a large curved ridge running horizontally across the top of his head, like there were two triangular features beneath. Another’s hood bulged out so far from his face it would seem almost like he had horns, but Mikyl dismissed this as ridiculous. The traders fed him and Rizdon well, and the two slept soundly.
Chapter Two
The next day, the sun was at its peak when Boulden came into view. The traders brightened and increased their pace. Rizdon ran ahead to alert the townspeople of the situation, and when the first cart rolled into town it met many wide-eyed stares and ecstatic grins from the peasants. As the first caravan to travel to their run-down little town, many felt that this was a sign of impending prosperity. This happiness was short-lived, however, for just as the caravan was halfway through the wooden gates, a rough arrow arced through the air, embedding itself in the ground a few feet away from a startled Rizdon.
As one, the traders whirled, reaching for their weapons as a group of men charged from the mountains, swords and axes in hand, with archers posted in trees to keep the townspeople pinned. With their weapons ready, the traders hurried the wagons through the gates, keeping a cautious eye on the approaching bandits.
Mikyl, Rizdon, and the traders just made it through the gates in time before another arrow hammered into the large wooden doors.
Ean the trader started up “I thought you said you weren’t bandits you deceitful little ---“
Before he was cut off by Melanie running forward and throwing her arms around Mikyl
“Oh, you’re ok, thank goodness” she said in a worried tone.
Ean had been about to protest the intrusion, but quickly shut his mouth looking chastised.
Two of the caravan guards quickly climbed to the top of the wall and looked out at what was quickly becoming a siege on the town.
“How many are there” Ean asked.
“About twenty” called down one of the guards.
There was suddenly the sharp twang of a crossbow bolt being released followed by a report from the other guard.
“Nineteen”
“Nineteen” Ean asked.
“Well usually you don’t survive a bolt through the neck” The guard replied.
Ok I fixed some stuff see if its better. Also sheep plant a bush with tendrils leading from it to plant/sheep and one ram. If you kill the ram the plant dies and they taste nasty unlike the other tasty sheep.
Author
Topic: Writing Workshop! (Read 19495 times)