|
Blood&Magic, Chpt. 1
Hello all this is my first post on Writingforum.com. U hope you all enjoy.
Prologue: The Graduation Letter
Four years gone, down by the wayside. Everyone we ever met, everyone we came to know, is now just fleeting memories of happiness, and joy. People we have come to respect are forever enshrined within.
Four years gone and here we stand today to show respect to those who have made it through. Those of you are graduating from the Academy of Swordplay and Sorcery, I Superintendent Jacob Salteaux congratulate you all, and you are now full Paladins and Magi in the service of the Goddess of Life herself, Terabithia. Again congratulations to you all, and welcome to the Brother/Sisterhood of Teraithia.
Superintendent Jacob Salteaux
Chapter One: An Inheritance of Arms.
Deryl de Dorche looked at himself in the mirror in his small room in the eastwing of the massive school that had served as his home for the last four years. He recalled his first day here. Was I only fourteen? The question went through his mind the entire morning and even now a half a stone before the Ceremony of Paladinhood.
His first thought was would his father be proud of him when he graduated, knowing that his father had been the best of the entire school. He was his class Valedictorian.
His father was indeed proud of him. He had sent Deryl a letter stating that fact, and he was most proud him as being class Valedictorian.
“You look so much like your father.” A voice sounded from behind him and slightly to the right. Deryl looked at his mother in the mirror.
“Hello, mother, where is father?” asked Deryl as he combed his blond hair, the same hair as his father.
His mother smiled a warm and kind smile. Her smile past down to him, or so his father had said. “You know your father. Having to talk with everyone he recognizes.”
Deryl laughed. “It’s not that. He never wants to cause any disrespect.”
Deryl looked at himself one last time to note if anything was out of place. His medium length blond hair was combed back. His black graduation uniform and lavender sash were all correctly smooth, buttoned, and draped across his shoulder. The ceremonial sword, a replica of the Soul-Swords, was belted on his right hip. His black cotton trouser with a lavender line down the seam was also cleaned of lint and hair or fur. His black leather boots with a lavender toe was cleaned and polished to the point of looking like a blackened mirror. “How to I look?” he asked his mother with a smile. Her smile.
Tears so long withheld started to fall as soon as his question was asked. “Too much like your father, yet twice as hansom.” The tears set of a chain reaction, for Deryl started to cry. “How I missed you mother.” And he ran the three steps to her. He was the same height and weight as his father was, or so the instructors told him. So he easily lifted his five foot three mother of the ground. He was an entire foot taller than she. She hugged him back, not wanting to let go, but reluctantly did so.
About this time a man, who looked liked Deryl’s older brother entered the room, though no one saw him doing so. “How I have longed to see such a display between the two of you.” Said the man with pure joy in his voice at what he had seen.
Deryl turned to his father and held out his hand to his father. The man simply shook his head, and pulled the eighteen year old into his arms in a bear hug. Deryl felt the trembling of his father’s body. Deryl was stunned at this for he had never seen or heard his father cry. He felt other arms go around him, small slender arms. His mother had joined the embrace. All three stood for five minutes. Not talking, moving, or anything but crying and holding each other in their arms. Deryl’s father was the first to let go, than his mother.
“Son,” his father said as a smile spread across his face, and as he wiped tears from his eyes. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. Your grandparents, all four of them, are also proud and sent you this.”
His father stepped out into the hall, and when he returned he had a large box of oak, and another of redwood. The redwood was about four and half feet long, and about six inches wide. Deryl knew what lay inside it. His grandfather on his father’s side had been a Paladin also. Inside the box was his grandfather’s legendary sword, Dragonfang.
Inside the other box was the armor of his mother’s father, Angel Armor, that last suit known in existence.
“Why have they given their most precious of artifacts to me?” Deryl asked the shock of voice evident to his parents.
“That, my son,” said his father with caution. “Must wait until we have returned home, it is not a tale for unwanted ears.”
His mother nods in confirmation. “That is true enough.”
The bell tolled, the Graduation Ceremony would begin in a half a stone.
“Come we most hurry, or you’ll be late to give your speech.” Said his father as he led the way to the Gardens, where the Ceremony would take place. “And you how well that would sit with your grandparents if you missed it.”
Deryl merely nodded with a smile at the thought of his grandparents.
Last edited by TWMarlowe : 06-14-2007 at 07:55 AM.
|
