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#171267 Posted on 2018-05-20 12:53:39
Hello, everyone! I'm currently working on writing a fantasy story. c: I'll update this every time I finish a chapter. Helpful critique and feedback is welcome and helps a lot! Thanks for popping in, and I hope you enjoy.
Prologue
Lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the churning forest. Wind grabbed the flora and whipped it around, giving it the appearance of a green whirlpool. Rain pounded into the ground and turned once hard-packed earth to slippery mud. Thunder screamed, drowning out every other sound for a moment with its intensity.
Another flash of lightning caused a pair of pupils to contract, pupils that belonged to the wide eyes of a child running through the forest. Warm tears mingled with chilling rain and smeared mud. Branches lashed out at and cut the arms and face, yet the child continued on in its desperate race.
Up ahead there was a large tree, the trunk hollowed out yet standing tall. A shelter in the storm and a place to hide. The child darted into the safe wooden arms and curled up in the darkened corner farthest from the entrance. The wind howled, the rain hissed, the thunder crashed, and the lightning sizzled, but the child was now safe from the elements. Shivering, the child brought up a sopping sleeve and wiped some of the grime off pale cheeks. Teeth clattered in cold, the child trying to suppress it in fear that it would be heard. Yes, the child was safe from the elements. But not from the evil that had caused the terrified sprint.
“Child, come on out,” a reassuring voice called into the tempest. “It’ll be okay, little one. Come to me. You are scared and cold; I can make you safe and warm.”
The small head shook violently side to side in a gesture of rejection, though the owner of the voice could not see. The offer was tempting, but the child knew better. It was this same voice, with the same soothing tones, that had convinced an entire village to turn against one another in massacre. Peaceful folk took up weapons and attacked their neighbors, their friends, their children. All lay dead by their brother’s hand, save this one child. The only one to resist the enchanting spell the voice cast. The only one to survive.
Chapter One
High-sun had passed several hours ago. The day was winding down and the air was starting to cool. The small town of Maepp was bustling as the people took advantage of the cooler temperature in the same way they did every day. Market stalls were open, hands gesturing as the townsfolk haggled and discussed. Children weaved among the adults, their playful chatter matching the bartering in volume.
Ezio tugged his cloak’s hood further over his face to cast it in shadow in an attempt to appear inconspicuous. Not that it would make much difference. Ezio towered above the townsfolk, many of them coming up to his shoulder if they were lucky. Height wasn’t the only thing that made Ezio stand out. The people flowing around him had skin the color of cacao mixed in milk, contrasting with Ezio’s ivory skin. The straight mop of dark brown hair on his head differed from their curly strands, though the color was consistent. Ezio gave another pull on the corner of his hood, hating how noticeable his pointed ears were on the fabric.
It wasn’t that Ezio disliked being different. No, it was how the people responded to him, despite his having grown up in Maepp. Fear, anger, disgust… Pleasant feelings were never directed at Ezio. It puzzled him. Was it simply because of how he looked?
Torwu had sent Ezio to the market today. Normally the elderly gentleman would go himself, but he was feeling ill today. Ezio had been more than willing to go in his place, despite his tendency to avoid being in public. Torwu was kind to him, had raised him, in fact, and Ezio was happy to be able to help him.
The first market stall was made of a light wood, brightly colored blue fabric serving as a roof, while another strip covered the counter. The goods the vendor sold were spread on the dyed cloth. Apples and pears, plums and grapes, strawberries and raspberries. Ezio approached and stood waiting for the vendor to turn from where he was selecting fruit to add to the selection on display.
The man turned and fumbled the fruit, almost dropping it. He managed to place it with the rest before looking up at Ezio. His surprised features twisted into an expression of anger. “Take your business somewhere else,” he hissed. “We don’t serve your kind here.”
“I’m shopping for Torwu,” Ezio explained patiently.
“We don’t serve your kind here,” the man repeated, and pulled down a cut of fabric that had been rolled up and tucked into the roof. “The stall is now closed,” is what the fabric meant, and Ezio sighed, turning from the vendor. Moments after he had walked away he heard the vendor bargaining with another customer, having opened his stall again.
“Fresh fruits! Picked just this morning!” a woman called from a pink booth. Ezio turned and walked that direction. Several of the vendors in that section, upon seeing him advance, closed their stalls. Yet the lady with the fruit stayed open, discussing with a buyer that had just approached. As soon as she looked up and saw him, the pink cloth would come fluttering down.
The girl purchasing fruit finished arguing and traded a number of eggs from her basket for a selection of blueberries. She turned and her dark eyes glanced up, meeting Ezio’s light brown ones momentarily. Instantly, the girl’s eyes found something else to look at, and she hurriedly moved on and wandered down the street.
“May I help you?”
Ezio looked at the woman in the stand, surprised. “Yes, please. I’d like to buy some fruit.”
“Do you have anything particular in mind?”
Torwu had asked for some specific things, and Ezio mentally went over the list the elder had orally given. “Four apples, a cluster of grapes, and a mix of berries,” Ezio replied after a moment. The lady nodded and set about arranging his order.
“What do you have to offer?”
“A coupon for a free service from Torwu.” Ezio held out the slip of parchment with Torwu’s known official seal on the corner. Torwu was a carpenter, known for his excellent works in furniture and figures. He was also skilled in repairs.
“I’ll accept that,” the vendor said with a smile, handing Ezio a small basket containing his fruits. Ezio placed the coupon into her hand and thanked her once more. He was surprised at how courteous she had been to him and his thanks were heartfelt.
Having completed his task, Ezio started for home. Ezio was worried about Torwu. He hadn’t been this sick in a long time. On impulse, he decided to pick up some medicinal herbs for his friend. He turned away from the market and onto the dusty path that led to the residential part of town. The houses were built of wood, simple, small huts. Ezio knew a man who sold herbs who would be willing to deal with him.
Four houses in, on the left of the path, was the house. A bush grew outside, setting it apart from the other huts. Ezio knew, from talking with the man inside, the bush was for decoration and held no medicinal properties. Ezio walked to the door and rapped on the wood.
“Come in,” Naju’s voice called. “The door isn’t latched,” he added with a small chuckle. Nobody in the town had latching doors, and Naju found it amusing, having lived in a larger town before that had simple locks. Nobody else thought his repeated joke was funny, but Ezio always smiled. Naju without that welcoming phrase wouldn’t be Naju.
Ezio pushed the door open and entered. Naju’s hut was of the one-room variety. The back wall was covered in shelves filled with herbs and various other plants. The left wall had a small window, under which sat a cot. The right wall would have been bare had Naju not hired someone to paint a tree on it. On the floor in the center sat two woven mats for sitting, and this is where Ezio went, crossing his legs under him.
“How may I help you, Ezio?” Naju asked, already sitting on the opposing mat.
“Torwu is ill, sir.”
“What are the symptoms?”
“Lethargy, headaches, loss of appetite.”
“Hmm….” Naju murmured to himself, standing and walking to the shelves. “Lethargy -” he selected a couple leaves, “headaches -” he added another to his hand, “and loss of appetite.” Naju added another leaf and a stem to the collection in his palm. The middle-aged healer crossed back to the mats and sat, placing his ingredients in a mortar. Taking up the pestle, Naju began to grind the plants into a paste.
“Have him consume a little of this every morning when he wakes up and every night before he sleeps,” Naju instructed, scraping the paste onto a sheet of parchment that he rolled up and set in Ezio’s basket.
“What would you like for it?” Ezio asked. “I could work, or -”
“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t need paid to help an old friend.”
Ezio blinked in surprise, then thanked Naju, standing and picking up his basket of fruit and medicine. “Thank you!” Ezio repeated as he opened the door.
“Yes, you’ve said that. Multiple times,” Naju replied gruffly, but he smiled. “Good-bye, Ezio.”
“Good-bye.” Ezio closed the door and returned to the pathway. Now it was time to go back to Torwu’s. To do so, Ezio had to exit the residential section and go back on the main path. Instead of turning toward the market, however, Ezio would go the other way. Torwu lived out of town, but only a little ways.
“Watch where you’re going, squirt!” a rough voice said. Ezio looked over to see a large boy shove a younger one in chest. It was obvious they had just collided.
“I-I’m sorry,” the smaller one stuttered, stepping back nervously.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Do you know who you just ran into?” The bully snagged the front of the boy’s tunic.
“That’s enough.” Ezio had strolled over and was now towering above the two. The bully yelped, released the child’s shirt, and took off down the path. Ezio knelt so he was at the boy’s level and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Ezio asked gently.
The boy nodded mutely, staring at Ezio with wide eyes.
“Get away from my son!” the mother screeched, the hut door slapping against the wall as it crashed open. “Get your filthy hands off him!”
Ezio jumped, startled, and lifted his hand quickly. He didn’t hesitate to step back, though he looked at the woman with a dark expression. “I’m sorry for stopping the bully from beating him up,” Ezio snapped.
“It would be better than being touched by you!” Her voice was a shrill shriek and she snagged her son’s hand, tugging him inside and slamming the door closed behind her.
Seething, Ezio spun on his heel and started the trek home.
Chapter Two
Alani tucked a loose strand of jet black hair behind her pointed ear and returned her focus to the small plant nestled among the roots of the tall wiggaloo tree. The wiggaloo was known for its light green, arrowhead-shaped leaves, broad trunk, and rough bark. When burned, the wood had a vaguely nutty scent. This plant that had captured Alani’s attention was low to the ground, short, with broad rounded leaves of dark green. This was a biddion plant. The leaves of biddion could be chewed to soothe a sore throat.
With a small shovel, Alani dug the biddion plant up, careful to not cut any of the roots. After gently shaking the loose dirt off the plant, Alani set it inside her satchel. She wasn’t done here. Originally, she had gone into the forest in search of a wiggaloo from which to harvest nutroot. Finding the biddion had been an unexpected bonus.
Alani withdrew a small hatchet from her satchel and hacked at an exposed root. The distinct nut smell filled her nostrils and she breathed in deeply. The piece of nutroot was now loose and Alani added it to her bag. Her goal completed, Alani slipped her tools back into their pockets and slipped the strap over her shoulder.
The walk back to Grenscasten was always beautiful. It was long, for which Alani was thankful for. Returning to the village wasn’t the highlight of her day. Right now she would enjoy the forest instead of worrying about the future.
Trees thinned out and soon she was on the dirt paths of Grenscasten. They were empty here, like they normally were. Alani glanced around before continuing on her way. She stopped outside a tiny hut made of wood. Without knocking, she opened the door and slipped in. It had one very small room, where must of the space was covered in medicinal herbs and plants. A space on the floor, which was simply dirt, had been cleared for a small fire pit. A large vase by the door held a day’s supply of water. Two long mats, stacked on top of each other, with a blanket on top served as a bed. It was Alani’s home, and it always had been for as far back as she could remember.
The coals in the fire pit were still warm. Alani checked to make sure the window was open before feeding the fire and getting it blazing. She grabbed her one pot and set it in the flames, pouring water from the vase into it. Alani set her satchel on the bed and pulled out the nutroot, tossing it in the pot. Next, she gently extracted the biddion and set it on the blanket. The tools she emptied from the bag and hung on the hooks on the wall.
Now that everything was out of her satchel, Alani began to fill it again, this time with supplies not for harvesting but for administering to the sick. Herbs, roots, leaves; parts of plants were slipped in until the bag was full. Only then did Alani stop. She had to be prepared, for who knew what ailments she would encounter in Grenscasten?
The little biddion needed to be planted. She had just the pot, a wooden one she had carved herself. Out back was a compost pile that she would take from and mix with the good soil she had piled in one corner. Alani picked up the pot and scooped just a little soil in before walking outside and around the hut. It was a short distance. The compost pile was doing well, she noted proudly, bending to her knees and burrowing her hand deep into the mess. She withdrew it, full of deteriorated matter, and dumped it into the pot. She repeated this action until the pot was almost half full.
The inside of her hut was starting to smell a little like nutroot. Alani’s lips curved slightly with a small smile. She loved the aroma. Her feet padded over to the soil and she filled the pot the rest of the way, mixing the compost with dirt until it was evenly combined. Alani stepped over to the bed and picked up the biddion, planting it in the wooden enclosure. When she was finished she held it up, admiring the dark green leaves, before setting it down with the other medicinal plants. She was ready to go.
Sliding the strap of her satchel over her shoulder, Alani went outside and walked to the path leading into the village. The nutroot was still boiling in her hut. It would be nutroot tea when she returned. Calming and relaxing, with a flavor matched by nothing else. She would need it.
Her ivory hand clutched the band of her satchel with a grip that would have turned her knuckles white had they not already been the color of snow. The closer she drew to Grenscasten, the more nervous she got. Her stomach was doing flips, her heart racing. But she was determined to help those who needed it.
She knew she had entered the village when a piece of balled up parchment was thrown at her in the usual greeting she received. Sometimes it was a stone, or a similarly hard object, so Alani had gotten off easy today. Usually after that the people ignored her, until she started helping the sick, that is.
Alani ignored the boys that had thrown the parchment and moved deeper into the village. A beggar girl that she regularly visited ran to her and threw her dark arms upward, asking to be lifted up. Alani complied and lifted young Viretta into her arms, moving into the shadows.
“How are you today, V?” Alani asked, hand drifting to her satchel.
“I’m better,” Viretta grinned, her eyes crinkling.
Alani studied the girl. She had chronic pain, and Alani had been doing her best to treat it. “Any aches anywhere?”
“Just a little bit. In my tummy.”
Alani dug into her bag and retrieved two different leaves. “Here you go, sweetie. Just chew a piece of both at the same time when it hurts, okay?”
“Okay.” Viretta took the leaves and put them in her pocket, where all her important things went.
“And I have a special treat for you this time.” Alani smiled at the excited gasp the little girl emitted. Alani took a loaf of bread and a pear from a pouch in the satchel. “Here you go. Don’t eat it too fast.” Alani set Viretta down and watched her run off to wherever she stayed. Alani was getting worried about V, and not just because of her chronic pain. She wasn’t eating enough.
“We need a healer!” a voice rang out on the main path. “Someone, please, come quick!”
Alani exited the shadows and hurried toward the voice. A woman was bent over a man who had collapsed in the dust. Alani’s fingers flew to her satchel and she was already digging through it when she kneeled next to the prone figure.
“No, no,” the man protested upon seeing her. He could barely move his head.
“We need a real healer,” the woman spat.
Alani pulled a soft root from the bag and extended it toward the man. “Here, chew this.”
Rough hands grabbed her arms and yanked her back. Two young men, one on each side, had snagged her and knocked the root from her hand. They were expecting a struggle, but Alani didn’t fight back. A stocky man ran up and crouched, a healer by the looks of it. Alani watched as he dug through his supplies.
“That won’t help,” Alani’s soft voice said calmly as the healer offered an herb to the man.
“Shut up!” one of the boys holding her growled.
“That’s the only warning,” the other followed up.
As the supposed healer chose another leaf that would do nothing, Alani stayed quiet. But when he offered a berry that would only make things worse, Alani could not force herself to be mute. “No, that will only worsen his condition! With his disease, it could send him into a coma or -”
Alani was stopped by a hand clapped over her mouth. “We said to stop talking.”
“What do you know?” the healer replied to Alani harshly. “You’re just an amateur. Boys, keep her out of my way.” Even though the young men were shorter than her, they were stronger. She was a healer, not a fighter. She couldn’t fight back. And nobody would stop them.
The hand was moved from her mouth, and despite the consequences she knew it would cause, Alani needed to stop this “healer” from killing the man. “Please, sir, you should use -”
Alani’s head was yanked backward with her hair that was clenched in a tight fist. Another fist slammed into her stomach, and Alani would have bent forward if the other young man’s hand wasn’t keeping her head angled toward the sky. The air rushed out of her lungs and she struggled to catch a breath. They released her.
“Go home.”
Alani paused to pick up her satchel and then turned her back to the scene. Her heart hurt thinking about how the wrong herbs could affect the man on the ground. She slowly walked home, refusing to run like they wanted her to.
Chapter Three
Ezio adjusted the basket to hang down from his arm, leaving his hands free to open the door. Torwu would be waiting, probably wondering what had taken Ezio so long to return. Ezio smiled, knowing the old man would protest his getting the paste but would still take it. After all, what was done was done.
The sturdy wooden door opened with a creak. The hinges needed oiled, and Ezio made a mental note to do that later. The house was quiet and brightly lit, the windows allowing sunlight to pour in and illuminate even the corners.
“Is that you, Ezio?” Torwu’s voice sounded weak. What alarmed Ezio most, however, was the fact that his voice did not come from Torwu’s bedroom. Torwu had been too weak to stand earlier that morning. Why was he not in bed?
“Yes.” Ezio moved further into the hut, setting the basket down on the floor by the pantry-wall. He walked into the hallway, and there he saw Torwu. The old man was sprawled on the ground, a bruise and a bump on his forehead. “Torwu!” Ezio cried, hurrying to his side and gently helping his mentor off the ground. “What happened?”
“I was freezing,” Torwu explained calmly, Ezio looking out the window at the sun and wondering how he could be cold in the hot weather. “You had not returned yet, so I climbed out of bed and started down the hall for a blanket.” Ezio settled him gently on the edge of his bed before sitting cross-legged and listening intently. “I was not as steady as I had hoped, and I fell. Everything went black for some time, I’m not sure how long. And then I woke with a headache shortly before you arrived.” His words were shaky and his voice much quieter than normal. Torwu did not seem to notice.
“I’m so sorry, Torwu!” Ezio exclaimed. “I would have been home sooner, but I went to Naju’s and got a paste for your illness. I should have come straight back after buying the fruit.”
Torwu sank into his pillow and pulled the thin summer blanket over himself. “It’s alright, my boy. I hope you did not pay much for the paste.”
“Naju gave it for free. Why?”
“I am afraid I have no use for it.”
“Of course you do! You’re ill.”
Torwu shook his head with a smile, his small brown hand fluttering toward his head and massaging his temples. “I will not be for long, my boy. Come, I must give you instructions before it is too late.” Ezio sat on the edge of the bed and looked down with worry on the frail figure. Had the fall confused him? “Ezio, I had a vision after I fell. It is time for me to leave you. When I am gone, I have a feeling the townspeople will not deal so kindly with you. They are afraid of you, but have permitted you out of respect for me. I ask that you leave Maepp. You will inform them of my passing, and then you will leave.”
“Torwu…” Ezio started, before fading out, not sure what to say. Torwu was dying? This couldn’t be! Ezio’s mind refused to accept this, his stomach was now clenched in fear, and a pain in his chest refused to lessen.
“You must leave Maepp,” Torwu insisted.
“But where will I go? This is my home, and if you - who will take over the hut?”
“I am sure someone will claim it. It is just a hut, Ezio. But you must leave.” Ezio nodded reluctantly. “Now, as for my burial.” Ezio leaned down so he could hear the words, barely a whisper. “Bury me under the old nouwood in the woods, the tall one, and carve…” Ezio saw his lips move but didn’t hear a sound as Torwu said what to engrave on the tree.
“I’m sorry?” Ezio prompted, leaning down farther.
“Carve my name.”
Ezio straightened and stood. He watched as Torwu’s eyes closed gently. His hand dropped from his temples and rested lightly at his side. His breathing started to slow and then stopped. Ezio stood, frozen, watching as his lifelong friend slipped away.
A few minutes passed. Ezio walked slowly forward and put his ear on Torwu’s chest, listening for a heartbeat, for the sound of breathing. But it was quiet. Ezio could feel his heart wrenching into two and his eyes welled with tears. He stepped away from Torwu, and a loud sound rang out as his palm slapped the wall in frustration.
The next moment he was sprinting down the path. In town he weaved through people until he reached his destination. Naju’s door was flung open and he darted inside, panting heavily from exertion. “Naju, come quick!”
~
Ezio woke the next morning and stood, stretching. He was about to call a morning greeting to Torwu, but then he remembered the events of yesterday. He swallowed thickly, blinking back the wetness that returned to his eyes. He glanced around the room. He was to leave Maepp. He would honor Torwu’s last wishes. He began gathering his belongings into a bag.
The walk into town seemed especially long. Ezio’s feet seemed heavy. If he had returned right after getting the fruit, would Torwu still be alive? The question plagued his mind the whole way there.
Ezio went first to Naju’s, where the healer joined him into the town square. Naju would back up Ezio’s statement. They both were unsure how the people would respond if just Ezio delivered the news.
Naju got the people’s attention, standing on the platform for announcements. Ezio climbed up beside him and cleared his throat a bit nervously.
“Torwu has passed away,” Ezio said, and a gasp rippled around the crowd. Ezio didn’t hear what Naju added to the statement, the words ringing in his ears. It was real. Not a nightmare. He slipped off the platform while Naju still explained and left Maepp. Nobody noticed.
Last edited on 2018-05-26 at 12:20:45 by Oswin
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