Hi Friends,
So here it is, the first rewrite of The Swordbearer. A bit of a rough start, but a start nonetheless. Would love to hear from you in the comment section. What's your favorite fantasy novel?
Confused as Hell? Start here.
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The night was terribly still and dark, in a world very different from our own. We will not spend long in this world right now dear reader, but for the purposes of this story, there are two things you should know now.In this world, there is a Kingdom called Caelcar that hardly stirs after sundown; not in the villages, or the forests save for birds and beasts that don’t know any better. Not even in the cities could you find a soul out after dark for reasons that are too expansive to explain in any detail right now.
There are many unexplainable things in the forests of Caelcar, and one of them is the waters. There are streams that babble up from beneath ancient trees which when drunk may give energy to even the weariest traveler; springs that tempt with their cool and crystal depths but burn anything the water touches to ash. But by far the strangest is Lake Melikelume. In peace times, thousands flocked to her shores so that they may stare into the depths and have their futures reflected back to them.
No one in their right mind would dare to seek out those mysterious shores anymore, but an exiled prince is almost never in his right mind. So it is that a tall, slim figure on horseback suddenly appeared on the road in a place where no one goes out at night, running like a mad man from a place that not even the most foolish dared go. If there had been anyone out on the road that night, they might well have wondered what he was running from since there was nothing on the horizon and no sound to disrupt the heavy cloak of silence.
But then they might have noticed that it was a feeling more than a being that stalked him. They might have noticed the stars disappearing even though the skies were cloudless, or the way that the shadows swirled and pooled in his wake, lapping eagerly at his feet like hungry dogs. His horse reared and snorted, its eyes rolling into the back of its head, but the rider kicked it hard in the sides and they pressed on. Running … running … running… but to what escape?
It was worse when they reached the cover of the trees. The road became twisted and tripped up with tree roots, shadows flitted amongst the canopy, swooping and diving like bats, and noises too came from within the woods. Snarling shrieking animal sounds that warped and shifted, sometimes seeming almost like laughter. The rider’s horse tripped, teetered, almost fell, darkness pressing in on them eagerly, but then then they righted and tore themselves away.
The rider stood up in his saddle, scrubbing the sides of his steed’s neck, encouraging it to go still faster even though heavy lather dripped from its body and froth bubbled from it’s panting mouth. Still, faithful, the beast put on a tremendous burst of speed and as they rounded a bend in the path the thing they had been looking for came into view.
The road ended in a great stone arch of stacked stones, perfectly circular in shape and wide enough for two men on horseback to pass through standing abreast of each other. Rider and horse careened through it desperately and when they came out the other side the darkness was gone. The noises they could hear were only the normal ones of small nocturnal creatures rustling through the undergrowth. They could see the stars again.
But not the same stars.
They stood for a moment, both of them breathing hard. The rider leaned down to stroke his horse’s neck, murmured something in his ear that seemed to calm the great animal. Recovered for the moment, he sat up and twisted in his saddle to look back at the arch they had come through. The stones shone innocently in the pale moonlight. The only thing he could see on the other side of it was more of the same forest, less wild than the one he had come from.
He gave his mount another moment to rest, then nudged him forward into a weary plod. The only road here was one that had been created by many years of foot and horse traffic wearing away the grasses. They wound their way along an escarpment and stopped to gaze at the valley below. Far away in the distance he could make out the harsh blue of electric lights and the human town of Barriere that slumbered, oblivious to the secrets hiding in its mountains. Much closer was the orange glow of lantern light from his village, soft and diffuse through the glimmers that protected them from the nearby humans.
He picked his way down the mountain until eventually the road widened, took on the twin grooves of wagon wheel tracks, and he started to pass by houses. Only the street lanterns were lit for it was far too late for there to be anyone left awake. All the windows were dark, save one. In the long, low lodge at the heart of the village a faint light burnt in the window. The sign of a mother, awaiting the return of her son.
The rider dismounted painfully. Too tired to tend to his horse himself, he handed the reigns off to one of the night guards and made his way inside, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the door frame.
Books, candlelight, the smell of spiced honey wine … home. A woman sat curled into a chair in the corner. A book lay open in her lap but she was gazing into the fire, not reading. She looked up at his entrance, her face not betraying the relief she felt. “You have returned.”
“I have,” the man agreed. He threw himself wearily into the chair opposite her. A plateful of food and a glass of that honey wine materialized on the table beside him. He sipped, feeling the delicious warmth creep through his extremities. He had not realized how very cold he had been.
The woman watched him eat, waiting impatiently. “Well? Did you make it?” she asked. “Were you able to look into the waters?”
“I was.” The man continued to eat, ravenous.
The woman was even less patient. “What did you see?” she demanded.
The man gnawed at bones stripped clean, set aside his plate. “A woman.” He frowned. “A human woman. Well … mostly human. She has elf blood, but of what lineage I cannot say.” He stood and began to make his way down a narrow hall. The woman followed.
“A woman?” she asked, and then without waiting for a response; “This human, she is in the town?”
“I don’t think so,” the man said. “Not yet.” He opened a door to a small but snug-looking bedroom. He began removing his dirtiest, outermost layers hoping that she would take the hint, but she lingered in the doorway.
“But this woman,” she pressed. “She is to be our salvation? The one who was foretold?”
“Mother, you know as much as I do,” the man said, exasperated. “If you don’t mind, it’s been a long day. I’m tired. Can we discuss this in the morning?”
He threw himself down on the bed and the woman, realizing he would tell her no more, turned to go. She couldn’t help herself one more question though; “what will you do now?”
He smiled inwardly, reaching out to snuff the candle by his bed. “Get a job in town,” he said. “Become human for the summer.” He laughed at the look on her face and then grabbed the air in an upwards motion, slamming the door on her expression of distaste.
***
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Thanks for reading and I'm sending lots of love to you in these uncertain times!
xxKathleen
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