1 year ago
1 year ago
So I've gotten back into my writing. My spark has apparently returned to me; maybe it felt guilty.
Although the start of this new story, not featuring Kit or Sera, has possibly the darkest start yet.
At least now I have finished my course I should be able to make some progress.
1 year ago
I haven't been on here in ages, and I have done literally no writing since then. Except for one idea. This takes place of the blurb, and is done as though it has been spoken by one of the characters..
"The south had fallen. The kingdoms of Methur, Fia and Caland fell one by one. Caland, the empire of the barren sea was the first to go. Poverty and disease struck the city a fatal blow and thousands lay dead in mere weeks. The survivors fled north, desperate to leave the black cities behind. Fia accepted the refugees, what few thousand remained, with open arms, appalled by what happened to the province. For a while all was fine, and then they came.
The horde attacked Fia, thousands upon thousands of the animated dead. The entire city was destroyed, though some escaped into the wilds beyond. The army of Fia, even the Order of the Waking Sun was completely eradicated by the force. The survivors were soon found in a place now called Blight Marsh and there they perished.
Soon even the mighty Dwarvern city of Methur, built into Mount Kerik fell, but not to the horde.To this day, it is unknown what killed the Dwarves, and only their cities of Duren, Kengesk, and Baltha still stand, proudly in the north.
We few who survived the slaughter eventually reached the river Provident, named so after the capitol of the north; Providence, but we were turned away. They wanted nothing to do with this blight. We few, Elves, Humans and Dwarves, we have endured.
That was over a century ago, and not once has the north tried to aid us. There they've sat, content that their walls of granite and marble can keep the evil at bay, as we have endured this perpetual nightmare. Welcome, northerner, to the land of the dead'
2 years ago
Footsteps broke the silence; heavy, mailed footsteps. A guard no doubt. The added noise brought a welcome reprieve from the continual dripping of water, but made Sera's stomach churn. 'Back already? But it's only been a few hours'
A new, unheard voice spoke, commanding the others to leave him in peace. It was a regal voice, authoritative; the voice of a man who is used to being in control. As the key scratched in the lock, Sera raised her head. Not that she could see anything, the rag covering her eyes made sure of that. The metal cell door screeched noisily as it was pushed open, and just as noisily as it swung shut. The man walked into the cell and stood right before her. Her sense of hearing was her only ally now.
She must have looked pitiful. Tied to a chair, hands bound behind her with chains, force fed a herbal concoction for suppress her magic, bloodied and beaten. Even now she could feel the blood from her cuts slowly drip down her face and body. Every ragged breath of hers brought agony; every movement brought a fresh wave of pain. Those men, whoever they were, were adept at torturing people.
"Where is she?' the newcomer asked, apparently not big on introductions. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it.
"W-who?' she murmured, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.
"Don't play games with me, Blackheart. You know who I'm after, and you'll know what I'll do to get her'
Sera said nothing, but hung her head limply; she knew all too well what they would do for the information. Even now, she felt the cold claws of oblivion clutch her. There are some things a person is never ready to experience. A cold, metal plated hand grabbed her tightly by the jaw. The man forced her head up and held it there. He increased the strength of his grip, putting pressure on Sera's lacerated jaw. She involuntarily whimpered in pain causing a snort of derision from her host.
"Where is she?'
"I...' her voice failed her.
The hand let go off her face. She went to rub it, but ended up senselessly rattling her bindings. For a brief moment nothing happened. The man walked around her, evidenced by his loud footsteps. Sera squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears 'Who are these people, Why are they doing this to her?'
The cold metal hand crashed into the side of her head. Pain erupted from the impact point as fresh blood began to well from it. Now the tears fell; there was nothing she could do to stop them.
"Listen to me, Blackheart. You are the best lead for finding my target. I personally don't care about you. If you tell me what I want to know, you can leave right now, if not then we continue this little game; I don't care either way. This is mandated by the king, so by the gods, you will comply'
"Can't' It was all Sera managed to say, between her tears of pain and shivering. Her once neat mages robes, now torn and damp with blood and other bodily fluids did nothing to impede the cold of her cell.
"Why?' the man shot back "Because you love her?'
Her heart stopped in her chest 'He knows?'
"Think we didn't know about your relationship? Why else would we have picked you, you're the better choice than Felix. Sera, that woman is a threat to our empire's security; she's easily the greatest mass murderer in recent decades. A sick twisted freak that derives pleasure from watching others die, who has spent the last twelve years habitually killing people. For the sake of everyone in our fair land, give us what we need to know'
'You stupid fool. She kills for a reputation, to no longer be the girl who gets pushed around and hurt by abusive brothers, to no longer be the weak girl unable to defend herself when a guard forces himself on her. She kills yes, but she's not evil or malicious. She would never inflict this much pain on someone. You want to arrest a woman who spent her whole life trying to fight for survival, who's had to fight to be recognised as a person, to matter to anyone but Kezrah, a man who is now dead, and Felix; a woman who just wants to be accepted as a person, who just wants to matter to people. A woman who spent most of her life in fear of men like you, who became what she is because of men like you'
It was only when the man coughed loudly did Sera realise that that had all been in her head. She opened her mouth to speak. All she managed before her voice failed her was "She's not...'
"Not what, evil? Don't lie to yourself woman, we know it and you know it; she's a plague to society. My boys will be back in shortly to continue their work. Do the right thing, Blackheart, give the assassin up'
Booted feet moved away from the broken mage. The door once again shrieked open and closed and the key clicked the lock shut. Once again left to stew in her misery and pain, Sera let the tears fall freely 'Come on Kit, I can't take any more of this'
2 years ago
So this is in the second book, so very far ahead, but I thought I'd share this scene. Just done it, and am kind of pleased with it, but any critique is more than welcome.
Footsteps broke the silence; heavy, mailed footsteps. A guard no doubt. The added sound brought a welcome reprieve from the continual dripping of water, but heralded the return of agony. A key scratched in the lock, scraping as it was twisted. A hideous screech followed as the cell door was pushed open. Sera opened her swollen eyes as much as she could to look upon her companion.
He was dressed in resplendent armour; Cyrian plate metal with golden trims, and a giant falcon emblazoned on the front. The crown and three stripes signified his rank; Knight-Captain. A flowing crimson cape fell down almost to his feet, imprinted with the same falcon. As best as Sera could tell, he was ruggedly handsome. With swept back dark brunette hair, stubble creeping across his jaw, and liquid amber eyes, he looked like a knight from the tales. But he wore no shining armour, he orchestrated this madness.
Sera looked up from the chair on which she was bound to stare him in the eyes. Not a single emotion crossed his face. The maleficent guard looked at her for a brief moment before beginning to pace around her. For a long time, the only sound between them was Sera's rasping, haggard breathing. Eventually, he spoke, in clear, well-spoken tones.
"Where is she?'
"Who?' Sera replied weakly
"Don't play games with me Blackheart, you know who I want, and you know what I'll do to get her'
"All too well...' the simple exertion of talking was enough to send Sera to edge of unconsciousness. The borders of her vision disappeared into nothing. It took all her will to focus. "And they call her a monster'
"I'm no monster. Rather, a dutiful paragon of law carrying out his mandate. Just comply, Sera, it will be much easier and less painful than-'
"Than beating it out of me?' Sera cut him off "I'm not going to give her up'
"Listen to me, little mage' His voice hardened. He had a short temper it seemed "That woman is a threat to the empire's safety. She murders on a daily basis for her own sadistic pleasure, the kin decrees that she be brought in by any means'
"Any means like taking a nineteen year old girl from her home, depriving her of food, water, and basic human rights and torturing her for information? All to try and reign in a loving assassin with severe emotional scars from people like you? And I suppose the king gave you all this information about her did he? Because he was known for being a caring father to her and didn't put a bounty on her head?'
"Listen here. Your... I don't even know what to call her in relationship to you' he paused for a few seconds "Your lover, as if that wasn't sick and twisted enough already, has been a habitual murderer for years, 12, if you're counting. You can't deny she gets some sick pleasure out of doing so'
"She kills for the power. She kills because she's good at it, good enough that people fear her. She does it all so she's not the scared little girl who gets pushed around and bullied by cruel half-brothers, so she's not the weak little girl unable to protect herself when a guard forces himself on her' Sera began to raise her voice as much as she could, her anger numbing her pain "She kills with a fury made from twelve years of living in a domestic hellhole, where every minute was like a fight for survival, a fight to matter to anyone but Kezrah, a friend who is now dead, and Felix. The king doesn't know shit about her because he never cared about her; she's not his legitimate daughter. I know her better than almost anyone alive, behind a fierce exterior is a person who just wants to matter, to be loved, to feel like a damn person! You, Knight-Captain, are a more vicious human than she'
Her rant over, sera felt the cold claws off oblivion grab her. Her vision darkened further, and the Knight-Captain sounded more distant. A gauntlet gripped around her neck and forced her head up to look him in the eyes.
"And still you protect her'
"I will die before I give her up. This is undeserving of the woman who saved the entirety of your empire' Sera moved to rub her jaw as he let go, forgetting that he hands were bound behind her.
"One good deed does not excuse her lifetime of crime'
"But it seems enough to condemn her' Sera whispered softly.
"Why do you protect her?' asked the man "Out of love?'
"I love her, I always have done and I always will do. I will not betray her'
"Do you know how many of my men wanted to kill you as an unnatural freak? If anything, you owe me your life'
"An unnatural freak?' Sera shot back "For loving another woman? Why is that such an issue, because she has breasts, because she isn't a man? I fail to see the stigma associated with this. And I owe you my life? No, I owe you days of agonizing pain, keeping me alive has not been such a saintly act as you perceive it to be'
"Fine then, I tried being nice. From now on, my boys get to torture you. They won't kill you of course, we need your information, but we'll see then how thankful you are for my intervention" as he walked past the bloody and bruised girl he stroked her cheek "You get some rest now, It's gonna be a busy day tomorrow'
2 years ago
A sharp spike of pain, originating from her foot, lanced through Sera. Her momentum carried her forwards and face first into the ground. The bottom of her right foot burned with pain. Hot, warm, sticky blood dribbled from the open wound. She pushed herself off the ground and winced; her face stung too. Still aware of the imminent danger, she crawled off the street path and hid behind a small building; a hovel by the looks, and smell, of it.
Knowing she had very little time before her would be killers set upon her, Sera examined her wound. The pain was excruciating. A shard of glass protruded from a jagged gash in the centre of her foot. Crimson blood dripped to the floor. Removing the glass, while the correct thing to do, would hurt horrifically. Gritting her teeth tightly, Sera muttered a spell, and drew the shard out.
That simple little spell, in a place such as Irele, would have lit up, to another mage, like a flare. If her pursuer was as good as she suspected he would home right in on its source. Fate was a cruel mistress; one mage of unknown talent or proficiencies and seven highly trained assassins against her, a wounded nineteen year old mage; hardly a fair fight. She didn't even have any offensive spells so to speak; she had an affinity for destruction magic, but never honed it.
The shard of glass floated magically above her hand. Spinning slowly it refracted the sun's light, sending out a cascade of colour. The last of the blood quickly dried in the heat, forming a red skin around the glass. In its slowly rotating faces, the seconds of her life ticked down. Not long now.
His vision span in circles, on minute the floor was below him, the next it replaced the sky. His stomach churned, and bile strung his throat. His chest heaved repeatedly, but thankfully nothing came up. Slowly, the ground began to stabilise beneath him and his shaky arms now seemed capable of holding his weight. He finally brought his gaze to bear, and peered about.
The eight of them were inside yet another of the one hundred and eighty two identical stone circles that dotted Myriel's landscape. He pushed himself off his knees, his still weak arms burning from the exertion. The ground moved beneath his feet sending him sprawling against one of the columns. His breathing came out deep and laboured as the world continued to slowly rotate around him. Teleporting sucked.
One by one the rest of the assassins slowly got to their feet, before lurching around like he did. The only one not suffering any more symptoms was their pet mage; magic has multiple benefits it seems. The robed man strode into the centre of the ring and closed his eyes. Going down to one knee, he pressed two fingers against the centre tile. The pillars began to hum at the contact.
His stomach finally stopped churning and the ground settled in one position; below him. With the side effects subsided he made his way over to the mage. One by one the remaining assassins joined him. Some, it seemed, had more of an issue with teleporting than others. The men formed a silent group, all eyes were on the mage, all hands were on hilts.
The mage looked up suddenly. His strained senses burned as though a fire had been lit next to him. Only those who are magically sensitive would be able to feel it; a spell, nearby, in the town. Although he could detect the spell, he had no way of knowing what the spell was. A smile slowly crept across his face; they had her.
"What is it?' asked the senior assassin, bringing him back to reality.
"Hm?' he replied "Oh, I know where she is'
"Where is she now then?'
"Just over there, by the docks' the mage responded, pointing to a group of buildings on the side of the lake, not too far from the second Gatestone. The group unsheathed all their weapons; katanas, Sai, Shortswords and daggers. The hunt had officially begun.
2 years ago
Writing: Used to be hugely into it... But I have lately found myself almost incapable of stringing a sentence together on paper. All my old projects, including a character I poured 5 years into, have been disbanded. Time to start anew, I guess.
I play games to the point of obsession. One does not simply stop after doing it for 18 years.