Davin

Ok, this story sort of popped into my head. I am sorry if it is not always coherent. I kinda spent most of Sunday night typing it out before I forgot about it. In my intro I promised something about the fair folk and here it is. I am not sure if it is any good but it is pretty long when you think about it. I am sorry for that too. Read and enjoy.



Vivian sighed and looked at her sisters. Titania was the youngest but had the most power. All Vivian could do was make weapons. Swords to be exact. Titania could move heaven and earth to meet her ends. But neither could be in the human world with out Morgan. Morgan was only half faery but with half of her human blood she could anchor the others to the mortal realm. Vivian sighed again.
“So you are saying what dear sister,” Morgan asked. She was different. She chose her look by the times on the mortal world. Vivian shook her head. I would never give up my cloths.
“We are growing weak. Even you yourself weakens only slower than us.” Titania was upset about something. What exactly, Vivian could not tell. “The time for chaos is at hand. If we introduce our champion then perhaps he can lead the people back to us.” She nodded toward the metal box she had brought with her. Morgan threw her hands up in exasperation. Titania would wear them both down until they saw it her way. Vivian leaned back against the barge’s railing. She felt a tug to the water. She smiled slightly then let it slip away. The water was her home. Not on land or in the sky like the others. She looked back at Morgan. Her sister’s eyes were directed at Titania.
“And what about Arthur,” Morgan asked. “Do you really think he will sit by and let some other take his place as hero of the people?” Titania frowned at her.
“He already has. Lancelot has already been seen publicly frolicking with Arthur’s whore.” Vivian looked up at that. She tried to stay in contact with Merlin but the old magister had gone missing. He had left Arthur with her sword. She shivered and looked back at the water. Could they do it? Will the world accept another hero? Maybe not with Gawain and Lancelot not to mention Arthur himself. But maybe a small hero who was loyal to the faery kind. She stood up straight and cleared her throat. Morgan shot her a look while Titania smiled at her.
“I suggest we do as Titania suggests. Put another piece into play as it were. Mayhap we will grow to think of him as but a loyal to our kind and not the humans or their kings.” Morgan made a sound. Vivian tilted her head to one side. She turned to the water and a thought came to her. “I suggest we do something else as well. We put him into place as a child nearing manhood. Then as we see fit visit him one at a time. You first Titania, then myself, and finally you Morgan. You will most likely not have to go find him as we will. I feel that he will seek out Arthur’s court.” She turned back to the metal box and tilted her head to one side in thought.
“What is it sister,” Morgan asked. The woman knew when her sister had a thought on her mind.
“I was wondering how we are going to name him. It must be something...” She let the idea trail off. What would be a good name for a new champion?
“Darius,” Morgan suggested. Vivian shook her head. Too church like. The priests would drive him into the Church for sure.
“Lazarus,” Titania offered. Vivian and Morgan spun to look at her. That name was odd but memorable. They both nodded and Titania smiled delightedly. She kissed her palm placed it on the metal box and it started to glow. When she removed her hand, it slowly left the barge and hovered above them. Vivian sighed and the box took off for the heart of Britain. She turned around and walked to the stairs that led down into the water. If she were to give him a gift then it must be a sword. One that could hold the power of the ocean. She smiled as ideas came to mind.

Lazarus sat up and felt a pulling. Something to the south was pulling him towards it. But what he did not know. He had lived with the old woman for his whole life and when she died he had wept like a small girl. His head sank. A girl he should be. To thin and tall to be a knight as his heart yearned to do. He was strong but he towered over the others in the small village of Vale. They all looked at him with contempt of some reason. Maybe because he had been found as a child. Not born with witnesses. They thought him a devil not a man. He was old enough to be married but all of the women were scared of him. He had tried to court several girls and their fathers’ had driven him off before he could see them once. He thought of leaving then but the old woman had needed him then more than ever. She had been sick only a little while and he did not want to leave the one person who cared for him in the world. Now she was dead and he had no ties to this place or for that matter this world. If he were to die, there would be no mourners. He stood and walked outside. I will leave. Today. To the south, where something pulls at me. He looked around one last time and closed his eyes remembering the time he had spent here. The old woman, Luna to her neighbors was a kind person and he would never forget about her but for now there was no reason to stay. He turned and walked out the door and down the back side of the hill. Away from Vale. Away from his old life. To the south. Where something inside him yearned to be.

Lazarus sat down and leaned back against the tree. This was as good a place to rest for a while. He looked around. The trees had changed a good deal since he started south. They grew thicker and seemed to envelop him at some points. He shifted to get a knot out of his back. He started to close his eyes but a flash of light caught his eye. It came closer and he stood up. It flew straight in front of him and swished around through the air. The old woman had spoken of such things. Wil o’ the Wisps. Dangerous if angered but otherwise friendly to travelers. He reached out his hand to it and it landed. It took a form and he leaned closer to look at it. A human like form came through the light. He could not tell if it was male or female but it seemed to move like it was made of water. He leaned closer and it reached out and put both of its hands on his nose. He jerked back at the sharp burning sensation. The old woman had said nothing about that! He touched his nose slowly and there was a sound. Like a tinkling of bells. He looked at the light. It was bobbing around in the air in front of him and flew off into the night. He jumped up and followed. That thing had the gall to laugh when it was the one doing the harm. He saw it dart behind a tree. He slowed down and waited a moment. Then he jumped around the tree. A woman’s figure made him stumble back and trip over a tree root. He landed and scurried back not taking his eyes off of the woman. She had long red hair that seemed to both clash and fit together with her pale green skin. His back hit a tree. A veil rippled as she raised her hand to him. He looked at it then slowly gave his hand to her. She pulled and he seemed to float up off the ground. She smiled to him and he stared at her. Who is this? Why does she look so familiar? He shook his head.
“I have taken an interest in you young Lazarus,” she said. Her voice was soft but it echoed around him. He nodded. “I wish to give you a gift but I am not sure what you could use.” She raised her brow as if to tell him to suggest something. He cleared his throat slowly.
“What ever is your wish,” he whispered. He could barely hear his voice but she nodded just the same.
“Very courteous,” she said approvingly. “I think I will give you something much more useful than a weapon or magic abilities.” She leaned close to him and he realized that she was shorter than him. Not that he really thought anything different. She stood up on her tip toes and kissed his forehead. He touched the spot and his mouth fell open.

He ran up to the captain. The man did not turn around. He waved his sword and a volley of arrows shot down on the enemy. The man in front of him spun around and looked him over.
“Where is that damned messenger,” the man shouted. He looked out over the wall and saw that the enemy was regrouping out of range of the arrows. He sighed and looked back at the captain. “Did you get that, you dummy?” The captain did not wait to hear the message. He turned to go but someone grabbed his shoulder. “What was the message? We don’t have time for you to have to remember it later on.” He nodded to the captain.
“Marathon fallen. Gather Army,” he repeated back. The captain pointed north and he turned to go. He reached the gates in minutes and north up the road to Athens.

Flash.

He sat up and winced. He looked down and saw the knife hilt in his stomach. He reached down and slowly drew it out. He gasped as blood began to run freely. He stood slowly and looked around. Smoke filled the air and he sniffed the air. Flesh and wood made the air smell putrid. He spit blood out of his mouth. Bile replaced the blood. He started walking. With each stepped pain shot through his stomach to his feet. He groaned but kept going. Some one must know of this. He was the of three hundred. Three hundred against fifteen thousand. The Persians will pay. His fellow Spartans with be avenged. He started moving in a trot. He must reach Sparta before them. Even if it kills me. He groaned again and placed his hand over the hole in him to staunch it. They had held them for days before they finally pushed through them. If only they could have made it longer.

Flash.

Lazarus sat up and looked around. No one was near him and there was no lights in the trees. He shook his head. Maybe it was a dream? He sighed and leaned back against the tree again. It was a dream. No one that beautiful would ever kiss me. He smiled. Must have eaten uncooked meat. He closed his eyes to rest.

Lazarus stopped at the village for some reason. There was an air of waiting in the air. What it meant he did not know. Something was going to happen here. He was sure of it. He looked out over the ocean. It was the first time he had been to the ocean. He had heard it was made of water you could not drink. To think. Water that you could not do something with. He shook his head in wonder. I wonder where I can stay tonight.

Lazarus jumped up as a woman’s scream ripped through the air. He ran to the barn door and looked out. Figures ran with torches and another was running from them. He ran forward and pushed the first figure down. It jumped back up and it was as tall as he was. Lazarus stepped back scared. Demons were hunting? Another scream made him act. He threw a fist at the thing’s face and it went down. It dropped something with a clatter. Lazarus bent down and picked it up. A sword. It took all his strength to hold it up. He looked around and saw a building on fire. He ran towards it and hacked at the door. He pushed through the ruins of the door and looked around. A scream from the back made him knock over the table as he ran to help. A man lay atop a woman. She was clawing at him but he was... Lazarus felt something inside him snap. He swung the blade awkwardly and the man slumped over. The woman pushed him off of her and she looked at Lazarus. He spun around and dashed for the door. He took off down the street.

Every part of him hurt. The slashes on his legs stung as he slowly waded into the salt water. He let the sword droop down into the water. The odd long boats were moving very fast northward. One was even on fire. He let out a breath and winced. His side was sore. Apparently not all of them used blades to fight. One of them had clubbed him twice in the ribs. He hoped he could move when the sun came up. A cheer rang up behind him. He jumped and swung the sword tip toward the shore. The entire town seemed to smoke but the townspeople were out on the shore waving their arms and yelling at the top of their lungs. Some of them were dancing in the retreating tide. He stumbled forward to the shore. Some one lifted his arm and leaned him against them. He looked to the side. A man who came to his shoulder was smiling up at him and using his free hand to motion others to come to him. Someone took his other arm and they help him to shore. He wanted to sit down on the ground and rest but the half dragged, half carried him all the way to one of the few homes that was not burned. The crowd followed and tried to catch sight of him once he was inside. He shook his head and lay down on the floor in front of the fire. He heard a clatter and realized he had lost the sword. He jerked up searching with his hand. Someone put it in his hand and he lay back down, or rather someone pushed him back. He closed his eyes.

His eyes popped open when something cold hit his forehead. He heard his knuckles crack as he gripped the sword hilt. He sat up and felt light hands grab his shoulders to hold him down. He looked around. A woman sat with her legs tucked under her and she held a cloth in one hand. She smiled slightly and he frowned at her.
“Who are you,” he asked. She raised a brow at him and her smile widened.
“I didn’t think you would remember.” She shook her head and stood up over him. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down. She reposition herself and placed the cloth back on his forehead. Her hand ran through his hair.
“You have very short hair,” she said. He rolled his eyes. “And you are much too young to have gray hair. I think you are touched by an immortal.” She smiled down at him and shook her head. He turned over away from her. “Fine then.” He heard her stand then he did not feel her presence anymore. He rolled back over. No one was there. He closed his eyes and frowned. A fever dream. The door opened and he looked at the man who had helped him from the shore.
“You are awake,” the man said sounding very pleased. “We were worried that you would not wake.” The man motioned behind him and a graying woman entered and strode toward Lazarus. She put her hand to his forehead and nodded.
“His fever has broken.” Her hand moved down and ran across each cut and then she touched the black bruise that covered most of his left side. He winced and she pulled her hand back quickly. She straightened up and nodded to the man. “He will be fine in a couple of days.” She looked back at him and knelt down by him. She kissed his forehead and bowed to him. He sat up surprised. She laid a light hand on him. “You helped my daughter.” She stood and walked to the door. The man went as well and pulled it shut behind him. Lazarus sat up and winced again. He stood slowly and pulled on his shirt. There is no way I can stay here till I heal. They erg to move south had intensified somehow and he could not wait.

He stumbled along and tried to stand straight. He took a deep breath and looked around. The town was several days back and he should not be bothered by them any more. He had been moving away from the sea to make sure not of the town’s people followed him. He leaned back against at tree. He needed to find a town. Maybe someone there can help him. He started ahead again dragging the sword tip on the ground.

He was right. The minute he stumbled into the town square people had rushed to help him. It was the oddest thing. In his old village no one ever tried to help him do anything but for some reason people seemed to like him. Why? He was not sure but he hoped it was always like this when he entered in a new place. A girl half his age smiled at him and gave him a flower. He looked at her wide eyed. What is this for? He held it carefully and smiled back to her after a moment. He found himself sitting in a large room with food sitting in front of him. A man came and sat down in front of him. Lazarus slowly began to eat.
“You are the Gray Fox,” the man said suddenly. Lazarus looked up at him.
“I don’t understand,” he started.
“You fit the description.” The man smiled and looked up at the ceiling. “You see word came of you from Little Downing. Of a gray haired man who helped fight off a Viking raid. By himself. We did not believe at first. Mainly because they said you had left with near fatal wounds. And yet here you are.” The man looked at the table. His face had lost all signs of joy.
“What is it,” Lazarus asked slowly. He did not want to stick his nose where it was not wanted. The man brightened.
“A water dragon has plagued our lake for the past two weeks. We do not know its origins but the last knight that went against it was eaten. We don’t know what to do.” Lazarus closed his eyes.
“I am not a knight,” he said simply.
“I know but...”
“I can’t do any better than a knight can.” He opened his eyes to look at the man.
“But you could...” the man floundered for an answer. Lazarus sighed.
“What I can,” he finished for the man. “In the morning. Now I need to rest and gather strength.”

Lazarus felt the fool. Here he was waiting in ankle deep lake water for a dragon to eat him. But he had said he would do his best to stop the creature. Whether or not it was good or bad that it had eaten a knight he was not sure. He held his sword in both hands looking out toward the deepest part of the lake. He would not have felt so foolish if the town’s people were not in the trees behind and around him to watch. They put every faith in him to win against this Water Drake as one older man had called it. He shivered. He was not even sure what a dragon looked like. Maybe it would not come today and... The water exploded up spraying him and driving the thought from his head. He looked at it and almost dropped the sword. Its head was attached to a long neck that seemed to move like a snakes. He wanted to back up but his legs weren’t moving no matter how hard he wanted them to. Two three fingered claws rose out of the water as it reared back. Its leaf thin wings allowed light to pass through making everything in their shade turn a light blue color. Its eyes narrowed and focused on Lazarus. The head with all of its needle looking teeth lunged at him. As Lazarus raised his sword to block, the thing slowed then stopped. The water itself seemed to stop. He let the sword carry his arms lower. He looked around in wonder. People among the trees seemed frozen in place as they turned to run or pointed something out. Lazarus’ mouth fell open. What is happening? He felt the water ripple at his feet. He looked down and a woman seemed to step out of the water. She stepped on the water like she weighed less than a feather. Her long green hair hung past her waist. He wanted to fall to his knees but he just couldn’t move. He looked at the woman. Her eyes were the most remarkable color of green. Lighter than her hair but... He let the thought go.
“It is good to see you at last Lazarus. It took me some time to find you. But now I have found you.” She looked at his hands and her lips peeled back in a grimace. She motioned. “Drop the primitive thing.” He did as she asked. His thoughts went to the odd woman in the forest. A smile bloomed on the lake woman’s face. “You are thinking of my sister. No that was not a dream and neither is this. She pulled something from behind her and pushed it to him. He took it dumbly. “This sword is much better for you. Treat her well and she will be yours forever.” He looked at the sword. It was definitely different from the one he had been using. This one was light green and caught the sun seeming to glow. It was slightly thinner but still held the same weight. He looked back at her.
“I don’t know how to use this,” he said finally finding his voice. She smiled again and he wanted nothing more than to live in this moment forever.
“There is more in that head in you than memories of battles,” she said with a slight wink. She turned around and started to step toward the dragon then stopped. “Don’t let them take the dragon’s bones. This creature is but trying to live as they do. But you take the blood stone. You will know it for it will be as green as your sword.” She gave him a small wave and stepped down and disappeared. The world jerked back into motion. He dropped down to his knees and felt the water dripping off the creature’s long neck. He slashed up with the sword and the dragon reared back with a roar of pain. It slid back into the water and Lazarus followed. He looked around as the dragon slipped under the surface. He looked around slowly looking for any ripples to give away its position. He felt something wrap around his leg. He cut down in a quick motion and red blood turned the water’s color. The dragon surged out of the water. Its eyes looked murder at Lazarus but he did not back up. He let the sword fall to his side at ease. The dragon roared and raised one of its clawed arms and struck out at him. The claws cut through is cloth shirt and his blood joined it’s in the lake. He still waited. The dragon emboldened by this lack of movement reared back and lunge forward. He did like last time by dropping down. Under the water. He watched as the dragon’s entire body flew by above him and he slammed his sword point first into its breast. It jerked up and almost dragged the sword from his hand. He pulled and as the dragon slid down into the water he saw a glimmer deeper down. A leaf green color. He reached down and grabbed it then pulled himself up to a standing position over the dragon’s kicking body. It was still alive. He looked it in the eye and saw its fury and something else. He closed his eyes and offered a pray for this poor creature. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down on the necks thinnest part. The head stopped moving and the dragon’s eye closed. He knelt by it and put his hand to its side. The skin gave way like water and he looked at it. The flesh and scales fell away leaving only white bones. He stood and walked to the shore. People gathered around him looking scared. He looked around then down to his sword. Maybe it has my answers. But it only brought more questions.

He sat at a table with food stacked in front of him. But he did not want to eat. He felt that old pull to the south. If possible it had intensified.
“I didn’t believe it. At first you had that Viking sword and then in a flash of green light you had that new sword. What is its name?” The man was excited. When Lazarus did not answer. “I still don’t think we should leave that thing’s bones in the water. It could still harm us.” Lazarus looked at him.
“If you touch those bones, I will come back and finish what the dragon started.” He stood and walked out into the night. The man had giving him a sheath for the sword. It was supposed to go on his side but it did not seem to fit going there. He had put it across his back. He sighed and started south walking out of the town leaving the man to mull over the threat. What is south that pulls at me? And why must I go there?


Lazarus stopped walking when the large city came into view. What is this? He started through the gates and got an odd look from the guards. He passed an odd building with a woman standing at the door. She wore very little which surprised him. In day light? He shook his head and turned but did not see the horse until to late. The horse reared back knocking its occupant to the ground. The man got up and looked at Lazarus.
“How dare you commoner,” the man shouted. He reached at his side and pulled out his sword. Lazarus held up his hands.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bother your horse.” The man laughed and lowered his sword.
“I call you out since you have a sword.” His sword point rose to point at the sword on Lazarus’ back. “Meet me at the Castle at noon and we will see exactly how sorry you are.” The man took his horse’s bridle and led it away. There was a hushed whisper from crowd that had gathered at the chance to see some sport.
“That man will fight until he sees he can’t beat that fellow,” a woman was telling her neighbor. “Then call to the King for help.” She clucked at the thought. “I think that boy though can take care of himself.” She and her friend turned and left. Lazarus swallowed. The King? That means I will be executed for some reason he was sure. He felt a prickle between his shoulder blades. He turned and saw the woman from the ocean who had disappeared like mist in the sun. He raised his hand and started to call to her. But she turned and ran down the street. He lowered his hand and turned around. What can he do for an hour or so? He squinted up at the sun to judge the time. He sighed. My last hour possibly and all I can do is walk around the city. He shook his head and started to walk toward the center of the city.

He showed himself at the gates of the large stone structure. He had told them a knight had told him to come. Which was true to some degree. A boy scurried ahead of him dodging the other people as he passed. No one made way for Lazarus so he had to do the same. He lost sight of the boy. He looked around before continuing on toward the last place he saw him. He walked down a corridor looking for the boy. He finally saw him at a large carved door tapping his foot on the ground impatiently.
“Took you long enough,” the boy said. Lazarus could do nothing but nod in agreement. The boy opened the door and motioned for him to stay here. The boy said something that Lazarus could not hear then came back out and pointed inside. Lazarus walked dumbly inside not know what to expect. He looked around the minute he stepped inside. It looked like a dining hall. The king, Lazarus expected was the man at the center on the opposite side of the room. Lazarus walked past men who all appeared to be shorter than he did. They all had weapons which made him nervous. They had insisted he leave his before entering. He held his hands open palms forward. The king arched an eyebrow. Surprise or something worse. It still made Lazarus nervous. The man next to him was the man he had knocked from his horse. He smiled coldly. Lazarus looked at the floor and wondered what was going to happen.
“What is your name,” the king asked. Lazarus jumped back surprised. He had not realized there had been silence since his entrance.
“Um... I am called Lazarus,” he said slowly stumbling over the first words. Someone made a sound on his right. Like someone choking on his drink. Even the King’s eyes widened a little.
“Lies. He is a country bumpkin. I saw him with no great sword of green light nor is he twelve feet tall.” The man’s voice was colder than his smile. Lazarus clutched his hands into fists. If one thing he hated, it was being called a liar to his face. He stepped forward.
“Don’t ever call me a liar,” he said. The man jumped back almost as if he was going to hide behind the King’s thrown. Lazarus closed his eyes and sighed several times collecting himself. He looked back at the King. The man had recollected himself as well. He had his hand on his sword.
“I call you a liar and a no good outlaw,” the man said. The King opened his mouth to say something then stopped. The man who sat next to the king looked at Lazarus and cleared his throat. The king motioned the man to speak.
“If you don’t know then this is the time you can call challenge. In which you can dual or some other thing. Of your choosing of course.” Lazarus nodded thinking.
“A dual perhaps,” he suggested. The man nodded assuredly. As if he knew he could win. Lazarus wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t do just that.
“To the death,” the man beside the king said. Lazarus looked at him surprised. He had not thought of that before. He shook his head quickly. He did not want to kill anyone for such a little reason as a horse.
“First Blood, or until someone yields,” the king said. He looked around the big table. “It would appear we have sport. Let us go down to the training yard and watch.” The men around him all stood. I wonder if I am going to live through this.

He held his sheath wondering when they would start. His sword was on his back waiting to be drawn. The man looked at him with an odd face on. It looked like he was wanting to reconsider. Lazarus put his hand to the sword hilt and the other man did the same. The king raised his hand and dropped it. The man drew his blade and raced forward. Lazarus held his ground then as he got closer he drew the green sword and slammed it down into the man’s sword. The light around him seemed to change. The sun light hit the sword and green light enveloped a good part of the training yard. It is like a mirror or water, Lazarus thought in amazement. He spun the sword in his hand and backed up. He looked at the king in the corner of his eye. All of the gathered knights seemed in a stated of shock. He put both hands on the hilt and he waited. The man looked green as he backed up away from Lazarus. Of course it could have been the light. Lazarus lowered the sword.
“I...I y..yield,” the man shouted back away further. Lazarus sheathed his sword and shook his head. Why are they so scared of me? Surely not because of his green blade. He shook his head and turned to the king. He bowed at the knees. He sighed and started to straighten. A yell caught his ears as the man rushed him with his sword ready to stab into him. Lazarus spun drawing the sword slashing three times in succession as the man before he could be hit. The first two hit the man’s sword but the third hit the man’s neck. His head flew off and rolled to the wall. Lazarus dropped his sword and caught the man’s body as he fell. He laid the man's body down carefully. He stood back up and looked at the king.

__________________
_______________________________________

Life is a dream. When we wake up is not
up to us but we should enjoy the dream for
as long as we have it there. ~ Davin

Inquisitor

You're no Tolkien, but . . .
Man, - use some ADJECTIVES, especially in initial stages. How do these magical creatures look? Where do they reside? It may be you will present more of their characters in later stages, but draw us at least some rough shapes, to orient.

Typos suck. Use a spellchecker and re-read your text again, again, again, and - did I mention a part about re-reading your texts?


Divide direct speech sentences(you missed quite some), much easer to read. Splitting entire text into chapters is also not a bad idea, so reader has it more easily from visual aspect.


To conclude: Your text did not impress me as appealing, in my opinion just somehow lacks the vividity of characters. The entire story seems torn out of a broader context, which is missing, thus leaving an impression of empty space. I don't find the idea of characters borrowed bad, just poorly implemented. Then again, there are not only bad things about your text. First of all, you managed to compose relatively coherent story, and in fact made it longer than usual one page writing attempts. Commendable. I hope you take my critics in good will and use those you think them to be useful.

__________________
Brightest fire casts the darkest shadows.

Bluesparkles

Well i thought it was good....I mean yeah i got a little confused on some parts, the part where he has a flash back of a battle i got a little confused. i didnt think it was the worst story in the world. I'm no expert but i thought it was interesting. I liked it. You can give some descriptions on some of the characters. But other than that for the story just popping out of your head it was really good. I couldn't think of anything that elaborate off the top of my head.

Good job! Keep it up. Just edit it if you really want to make it good.