Randatos

So here's a story I've had in the short story section for a while, but at this point it's probably too long for that, so I decided I'd post a thread here of everything posted so far as well as the new sections.

Opening: His Greatest Sin, or the Rise of the Obsidian

At first only two sounds pervaded the glade. The first was a gentle breeze, bitingly cold but not quite strong enough to billow the trees with any real force. Drawing closer with every report was the second sound, a steady drum. The beat was a simple pat-pat-pata-pat, but that simplicity did not betray their intentions, for every man, woman, and child knew the sound of the Obsidian's drums of war.

Before long a third sound had filled the glade. Trumpets. The forces of the Last Remnant of Man had arrived. The ever ensuing pat-pat-pata-pat of the Obsidian's drums told the men that it would not be long before their enemies arrived.

In moments the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh sound entered the glade, escaping from the mouths of the men who waited at its border. Fourth was a curse, then a hope, sixth a prayer to the Holy Sovereign Above, and seventh an order. "Scout," that leader said. The man to whom he spoke did not make the eighth sound, instead silently nodding and turning to search for the Obsidian's war band.

Many long moments passed before the eight sound finally penetrated the ring of trees, The men watched and waited with baited breath. They all listened as the Obsidian's drums drew closer. And they all bore the same thoughts, the same fears. If we fail, then humanity as we know it will cease to exist.

Then it happened. The eighth and the hundredth sounds broke all at once. The distance of the drums had been a decoy. The forces of the Obsidian had arrived. Sounds of screeches and cries, screams and clatters of steel on steel and bone filled the ears of every man as they died or faced death.

"Fight!" that leader roared over the din, though he could barely manage to do so himself. And the men did fight, swords and axes swinging and slicing through the bodies of the followers of the Obsidian. But the beings refused to bleed, refused to even falter as they took their blows and returned them with twice the speed and three times the ferocity. The last hope of the Last Remnant of Man fought hard.

But it was not meant to be. That leader watched as his friends fell into pools of their own blood. Despite all they had striven for it had come to this. Failure. The Obsidian and its ilk were going to be victorious, were going to move from the glade and into the last strongholds of man. The species was going to be all but wiped out.

This is what would go down in the history books.

But that leader would not allow it. "No," he said as the 2863rd sound of one of his comrades dying filled his ears. "No." And so at that moment he focused, drew the energy from inside his heart and pulled it into his hand. The energy shone brightly, white and pure as was his heart.

"No," that man said again. Though he spoke in no more than a whisper, this time the followers of the Obsidian took notice, the light catching their eyes and burning their thick flesh. It was forbidden, of course. But that leader could no longer bear to watch his fellow man be destroyed. The light and energy began to glow, filling the glade with its intense power. Screams and howls tore from the mouths of the followers of the Obsidian as splinters and cracks began ripping their hides apart.

That leader knew that he committed the worst sin possible, knew the Holy Sovereign Above would forever damn his soul to the Pits, but he didn't care. There could be no greater cost to destroy the bastards that had shattered his forces down to the last soldier.

Then, when all of his heart's energy had been called forth, he brought his hand up to the full length of his arm, and slammed it down onto the mossy forest floor. The energy shimmered, dispersed, then exploded, lifting the followers of the Obsidian from their clawed hoofs and shredding the beings to dust.

When the energy dispersed that leader was on his knees. The forest and corpses of his men were entirely unperturbed, his hear was pure. That leader's breath was ragged. His now failing eyes did not even grant him the privilege to bear witness to his victory. His heart only had the strength left to beat three more times. Then it stopped, and he died.

But one man had survived to bear witness. That scout stood, his eyelids ajar and his heart aching. "Holy Sovereign Above," his barely functioning lips motioned. "Forgive that man for his greatest sin. Forgive him."

He had dropped to his knees now, and his face bore the rivers of sorrow that he held in his heart, a sorrow that his family would forever bear. "And for all that is Holy... Forgive us all."

Three years later mankind still existed. But they were no longer free.



Chapter One: Failure

"Ethan! There you are! Would you kindly tell me where in the Pits you've been all day? All this week?"

The young man groaned inwardly as he placed a book in his locker. He wanted to do this later. Not here. Not now. Not until everything had been planned. "Julia," he said. "Hey."

"Oh don't just 'Julia, hey' me like you didn't just up and disappear for a week! It's like you've been avoiding me!"

He had been, but he didn't say so. "Been busy," Ethan said honestly as he finally turned to face his girlfriend. "Instructor Follower has been threatening me with genocide if I don't pass his class." It was a joke. Julia didn't laugh.

"I talked to Jacob," she said.

The words tasted like bile in his ears. That idiot. That's what I get for telling him something. A somber "Oh?" was the most he could muster.

"He told me why you've been avoiding me."

Ethan couldn't reply. He simply stood there slack-jawed. His tongue was ash. The plan had been turned into one big tank of fail. Thanks, Jakeyboy. Had to move those lips. "Julia, I-"

"Don't even bother," the girl said as her red eyes blazed. "I'll do it since you don't have the stones to. We're through." She turned to walk down the hall. The wrong way to her class.

He wanted to stop her, tell her Jacob had the whole thing wrong. But he didn't have the energy. He was drained. And he was going to kill Jacob. And then the bell rang.

And he was late for Instructor Follower's class. And he was late on exam day.

And for a minute he just stood there, still watching the corner where Julia had disappeared and, like the romantic fool he was, hoping she'd turn around and run into his arms Then his brained turned on turned and bolted.

- - -

By the time Ethan made it to the history room the door had already been shut, and when he tried it locked up tightly. Panic began to set in, and through the door's window he could see the bowed, shaved heads of his fellow students as they began their final exam, an exam that would make or break their grade, and subsequently their passage or failure from the school. An exam he had already failed by not arriving on time. He couldn't see Instructor Follower anywhere through the window, either.

Crestfallen, he turned to head to his dorm when his heart all but stopped. The Follower stood there, dark and sinister looking as always. The creatures body was hidden away in its usual dark gray robe, leaving only its black, cross shaped head visible. Under normal circumstances the follower of the Obsidian cut an already terrifying appearance with its purely black eyes, craggy face, and permanent teeth-filled snarl. But now, with its face forming a mockery of a human frown, Instructor Follower looked like hate incarnate.

"Instructor," Ethan began, but was quickly cut down by the Follower's stern tone.

"You picked a very horrible day to decide not to attend my class." Human speech did not come to a Follower easily, coming out slow and hissing through their many crooked teeth. Just one more of the many terrifying aspects of the Followers. Ethan would have tried to voice a protest, but he knew it was futile. Fatal, even. "You are aware, of course, that failing this examination means failing my class?" It was a rhetorical question, as were all of its questions. "And you are aware, of course, that failing my class means failing this institution?"

Ethan could tell where this was going already.

"And you are aware, of course, that failing this institution means you will be left with only the occupations of laborer or scientific subject left to you?"

In the Follower's stern gaze Ethan could see this question was a real one. "Yes, Instructor Follower," he all but choked. His eyes nearly watered in fear of the sentence that would forever seclude him from the class of human intellectuals, the only group to live the closest thing to a good life under Follower occupation.

The follower of the Obsidian smiled, a facial expression that showed the many hooked and hungry teeth it bore better than any other. "Good. Tomorrow at noon you shall arrive at the judiciary chamber where your life shall be determined. Is that clear?"

Ethan could only nod.

But that reaction was not enough for the Follower. A crooked set of claws shot out from under the clothing, clenching Ethan's elbow like a daggerous vice. The young man could feel the talons pierce his flesh and draw blood. It felt as though his arm would snap like a twig at any moment. "Yes," Ethan said with obvious pain. "It's clear."

Finally the Follower released him. "Good. Now go."

The young man turned to leave. "And do not arrive late," the Follower said to the back of his head.

- - -

The first thing Ethan did when he made it to the parking lot was to throw his book bag inside with such force that the seams split, sending books and binders full of notes all over the place. A series of curses fell from his lips and his palm slammed hard enough into the side of the truck to leave a good size dent.

"This kid's got one heck of a temper," someone said from behind Ethan.

He turned, recognizing the voice at once. "Not today, Greg," Ethan said, even though he knew there was no stopping Greg when he came looking for trouble.

"Always knew you'd flunk out. You're like me. We're both in here only because our old men were smart enough and that's it." Greg was wearing one of his smug grins.

"We aren't the slightest bit alike," Ethan said. He didn't feel like letting Greg's crap slide, not today.

He was about to simply turn and climb into the truck to leave, but Greg's next words glued him to the spot. "You're right. Because while it took you over a year to get nothing I'll be in Julia's pants by Tuesday."

"Shut your Sovereign da**ed mouth." Ethan's fingers had already curled into a ball. "She would never even talk to you."

The other's only reply at first was a sharp laugh. Then, "Guess you didn't hear that it was me she came crying to when she got word that you two would be slitting. I just faked some consoling. That bitch actually bought it, too. So easy."

And that was enough for Ethan. All of his rage and frustration from the day pooled into his fist and he let it fly straight for Greg's nose.

But Greg, whose incendiary attitude had pulled him into more than a few fights, had already moved. Ethan's fist continued to fly right into the side of a nearby car

Ethan watched as his fist push in for an inch or so, denting the card. The pain in his fist hit him suddenly and with enough force to make him cry out.

"Nice," Greg said. Then Ethan could feel a foot colliding with his side, knocking him to the ground. His lungs were failing him, he couldn't bleed, he could barely even keep his eyes open.

Greg stood in front of his view, looking Ethan up and down. "And there's another way you're nothing like me. Completely useless in a fight." He would ave laughed, but he never had the chance to.

A brown blur had appeared from behind one of the cars. Ethan watched as it approached Greg. The blur's leg shot out, colliding with Greg's head. "Up!" the blur said, and Ethan instantly realized it was Ryan.

One of Ryan's hands grabbed Ethan by the collar. Ethan found himself being pulled uncouthly from the cement ground.

When Greg had recovered from the kick he was livid, his red face and veins popping with pure anger. His body was drawing into a boxer's pose, and Ethan knew that in only a few seconds a fight between the two best brawlers in the school would ensue.

"Hold it right there!" a shrill voice cried out over the parking lot. The three young men turned to see Instructor Follower standing watching them. "There is some fight in you three, I see. Perhaps there will be another more... exciting career awaiting you lot."

Greg's muscles were still tense. "Return home, you three. Tomorrow at noon the lot of you shall arrive at the judiciary chamber where your lives shall be determined. Is that clear?"

Greg's eyes were venom for Ethan and Ryan as he replied with them. "It's clear."

The Follower's reply was a cackling laugh, a terrifying mockery of the human kind. "I will look forward to watching you three kill each other as Entertainers!" it said, that disappeared behind a car.

For a moment Greg looked as if he was about to resume the fight, but without warning his hand shot into his pocket and pulled out his keys and made his way for his car, bumping into Ethan on the way.

When Greg was out of earshot Ethan turned towards Ryan with a clear look of worry on his face. "This is bad, man. I wasn't raised with kick boxing or boxing like you and Greg. I can't fight."

Ryan, who was nearly two heads taller than his friend, bent down slightly and held a hand on Ethan's shoulders. "Out of our hands now. I'll try and teach you some of the pointers if we do get stuck as Entertainers." He laughed hollowly. "At least now we have a chance for honor and glory right?" He pumped a fist into the air. "Heroes of the Entertainer's Ring, Honor, Glory, and the fight for survival!" he roared, reciting the Entertainer's creed.

"And a chance to get a barb through the heart," Ethan replied. His face was solemn. "I'm a Scholar to the core, not an Entertainer."

"Relax," Ryan said, pulling his hand back and into a pocket. "People out age thrown in as an Entertainer always stick together as a team, at least early on. I can watch your back."

"Well who'll watch yours then?"

At that Ryan let out a real laugh. "Greg, hopefully. But I'm not sure if I trust him any more than the enemy." It was a joke, but his face was still serious. "Let's head home. I could use a sandwich." He had already started making his way to his car.

"I'm not making it!" Ethan yelled to him from several cars over. Then he climbed into his truck.

- - -

His home wasn't far, but Ethan always took his time getting home. He wasn't trying to avoid his parents or any responsibilities, he simply enjoyed the scenery and the driving found in the many looping back roads near his home. But today he was definitely avoiding his parents. He had failed that exam. He had failed the entire school. He was going to be forced to be an Entertainer, where he could never last long even with Ryan to help him. The day was just full of all sorts of bad.

And to top it off he had lost Julia. And over a misunderstanding of Jacobs when Ethan had run out of time telling him about a plan to surprise her with a piece of jewelry.

The thought of the jewelry made Ethan lean over and take the small jewelry box from the glove compartment. Long and slender, the velvet box held a silver chained necklace with a blue heart shaped stone. The blue heart had been sparked by something Ethan has once told her. "Ever time I'm without you," he had said, knowing how sappy it sounded but not caring, "my heart turns blue and cold." He had decided to buy her a necklace in memory of it. How ironic that the day he would never see her again he had been planning on giving her his heart. For a moment he contemplated stopping the truck and throwing the necklace as far as he could. But he couldn't bring himself to. Every time he nearly pulled his foot off the gas the radio spited him, playing a song that would remind him of the past. They had always listened to the radio together.

And without warning a car horn snapped Ethan's head back to watching the road. With only seconds to spare he swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car. He had to swerve again, this time to avoid hitting a fence that ran along the road. In the process the jewelry box fell out of his lap.

He never was able to find it in his truck, despite his frantic searching that day and for many days for many months to come.

- - -

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New Terra

JeshiiDoveLove

I've already given you some feedback on the latest bit... I'll do some more editing when I get the chance, I promise

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It wasn't good luck that brought us together. If anything, it was long months of bad luck that finally proved to us that what we were doing separately was never going to work, and together we'll beat it all.

Kmetamorphosis

My favorite part was the final scene. Probably because that's when the story stopped being a mildly confusing half fantasy and was an engaging reality.

Randatos

It's a delicate blend that's a new challenge for me. On the one hand there's the story of humanities enslavement to the followers of the Obsidian; a political story. Then on the other hand there's the story of the characters set in a modern world; a personal story. For someone who has only delved into a modern setting in short story form it's a challenge just to have decent characters and relationships between them, but with the other story on top of it it gets even more muddled. Hopefully as I continue with the story I'll be able to tell both stories seamlessly.

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New Terra

Ungood

All in all it seemed.... "good"

It felt odd I mean... at first you are talking of axes and swords and things, and then we have cars and trucks. Which was throwing me something hard.

But I guess that is part of what you are trying to do, a hybrid like Piers Anthony Incarnate series. It can work wonders.

Ok... Some points...

"The eighth and the hundredth sounds broke all at once".

That is really where you should have stopped talking about sounds... it ends it nicely...

"he said as the 2863rd sound of one of his comrades dying filled his ears"

I was not sure if I wanted to laugh or cry when I red this...

but in either case I was sure I would stop reading at this point if I was going to reading this book for personal enjoyment. I almost did, but because I wanted to cirque it out of respect I did not.

Another Point:

"Instructor Follower" who is a "Follower".

That is like saying "Instructor Human" who is a "Human"

It felt very off... If you must just give the "Instructor" an alien name, or better yet a very "Human" name and then tell me what he is when the MC meets him.

Other then that... Looked good for as far as I am willing to go, I wound gander that the Grammar Guru's should lay into you now

Ungood

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JeshiiDoveLove

'sized' ... and if he's that strong, why's he so bad at fighting? just lack of proper control?

needs a comma between 'nothing' and 'I'll'... and what a pig this Greg is! I'd have kneed him for that...

I don't like this so much... it doesn't seem like it would fit, a person wouldn't really say this...

'splitting', unless they're both going emo and that's slang for slitting their wrists. lol

try, 'Ethan watched his fist push in an inch or so, denting the car. Pain shot up his arm, and he cried out.' or something along those lines... condense it and fix the typos.

again, condense it... 'Ethan felt a foot collide into his side, knocking him to the ground.'
I also think you meant 'breathe' rather than 'bleed'.

'have'

remove 'had'. it's passive writing, and you don't want passive writing, especially not in the middle of a fight scene.

I'd say 'asphalt' or 'concrete' rather than 'cement ground': for one, cement ground is a tad redundant, and for two, cement isn't a type of pavement, only a part of it: you have concrete, asphalt, what have you, and they have cement as an ingredient but it doesn't make up the whole thing.

'... his face red...' unless his red face is popping with anger just like his veins

'then', not 'that'

his hand made his way to his car? try, 'but without warning his hand shot into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He made his way to his car,'

'our' not 'out', 'Entertainers' not 'Entertainer'

Bad what? 'bad luck' would be better there

try 'And all because Jacob had misunderstood what Ethan had been trying to tell him about surprizing Julia: he'd run out of time in the middle of his explanation and never had the chance to finish it.'

'silver-chained', 'blue, heart-shaped', drop the 'has' (it should be 'had' if you keep it, but it's not neccessary), 'Every' not 'Ever'

and you already know how I feel about the last line... -_-;

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It wasn't good luck that brought us together. If anything, it was long months of bad luck that finally proved to us that what we were doing separately was never going to work, and together we'll beat it all.

Randatos

- - -

He arrived home to the familiar sound of the local insane barking at his truck. With a sigh he turned into his drive, narrowly avoiding the mutt as it wove under his tires like a child at a moving swing set. As always it growled, bared it's teeth, and salivated until Ethan looked down on it and, very kindly, told it to buzz off. The dog ran away whimpering, tail between it's legs.

Ryan was already waiting next door, leaning against his own car and eying the dog like he planned on shooing it away for good. But he didn't, he just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking aloof and relaxed. “I've already eaten four sandwiches. None left for you.”

“You know, some day my mom will tell you to get out of our kitchen.”

“Doubt it, not like we'll be seeing this kitchen ever again,” Ryan replied. He had clearly meant it as a lighthearted quip, but the subject still left an air of tension between the two. “Spose we should get to telling our folks, then?”

“Yeah,” Ethan replied, still somber from losing the necklace. “You first though, your dad is so much more awesome than either of my parents.”

“Man's got a point.” With that Ryan leaned onto his own legs and made his way for the house next door. Ethan watched the door, waited. His parents were not going to be very happy about this little turn of events. Not one bit. The minutes passed and finally Ryan reappeared. “Well?” Ethan asked when the other was in earshot.

“He wants to go with us. He figured I'd end up failing school and end up somewhere else anyway. Says that's why he taught me kick boxing. My old man planned for this ahead.” Ryan was trying hard to hide his smile, but wasn't doing a very good job of it.

“I thought he taught you so if you ever got into a fight with a Follower you could hold your own. He always told us the things don't know how to react to kicks, right?”

“Sure,” Ryan replied as he leaned against his car again, hands in his pockets. “Was a double-edged sword, I guess. Wait, wrong analogy. Duel-pronged trident.” He paused for a minute, then said, “Let's pretend that didn't happen, shall we?”

“I think that'd be best.” A pause. “Guess I should go tell my parents too.” Ryan just nodded.

“Need some backup?” he asked.

“Nah. You know they'll just drag you into it too somehow, call your dad a bum and all that. If I don't come out call the police.”

“What police?” Ryan asked to the back of Ethan's head.

Ethan had been dreading this for the past hour and a half. His parents were already known to be explosive, Ethan had had to spend the night at other houses more than once just to avoid the arguing he knew would ensure. But there wasn't any avoiding this one.

He took that final step onto the patio. His hand was on the nob. Turning, and...

Greg was sitting there, chatting his parents up like old chums. There was even coffee mugs out with some liquid out. What, are you poisoning my family or something? Ethan though. All three of them were all smiles. No, four. Greg's mother was there too.

“What's going on h-”

“Ethan, buddy,” Greg said, obviously faking it. “Was wondering wen you'd get back. I had just finished telling your family the good news.”

Ethan was awestruck. And confused. “Good new-”

“Yeah, that we're both being swapped to be entertainers. We'll have a chance for honor and glory! Heroes of the Entertainer's Ring, Honor, Glory, and the fight for survival!” He had pumped his fist into the air.

“A shame about that Ryan both, though,” Greg's mother said, shaking her head.”

“Oh, Linda, don't say that,” Ethan's mom spoke up. “You know the boy tries so hard but with his father the way he is...”

“But that's not the point,” Greg said, raising his hands. “Ryan knows his stuff, with the three of us entering as a team we'll clean up!”

“That's right,” Ethan's father said after taking a sip from his mug. “I hear that some entertainers are able to leave even better lives than what you would have been. And the three of you have excellent, best friends since birth, right?” He took another sip.

“Hell, from the womb,” Greg said with his fake smile. “By the way, my mom brought over a roast. In the kitchen if you want some.”

Ethan was about to tell him no, not on his life would he eat that woman's cooking, but Greg spoke again before he could reply. “Here, I'll help you.” Then he stood up and led Ethan to his own kitchen.”

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Ethan roared as soon as the door was shut.

“Everything alright?” Ethan's mother's voice came from the other room.”

“Just fine,” Greg told her. Then he spoke in a hushed tone. “I don't want to be an entertainer any more than you. I need you alive when we get there. Meat shield. If your parents tear you to shreds before we even get shipped to the Ring you're no good to me.”

“Like hell,” Ethan retorted, lowering his own voice. “I won't be on any team with you. Neither will Ryan.” He crossed his arms as if it was a signal of finality.

Greg pushed his hand hard into Ethan's sternum, making him all but fall. “Bullshit. You don't have a Sovereign damned choice in the matter and neither does that bum.”

Ethan's reaction to the push was to swing his arm forward straight for Greg's large nose. To the Pits with his parents, to the Pits with all of this.

The door to the kitchen opened up again just as Greg leaned backwards, easily avoiding the punch. He extended his arms and caught Ethan as he fell from the momentum of his own punch. “Easy,” Greg told his mother who had walked in. “Floor is pretty slippery.”

“It's not that bad, dear,” Linda told him, eying the two young men as if they were nuts. Or rather, eying Ethan as if he was a complete bafoon for slipping on the floor.

“Ethan's good on his feet, Mother, trust me. Just stay in the living room.” He put on his best love-me-mother smile and said, “Would you like something? More of the roast perhaps? Just let me know and Ethan and I will bring it out to you as soon as he's on his feet again.”

“Oh no dear, I was just making sure Ethan wasn't going to steal my cutlery.” She laughed, and so did Greg. It was their excuse for a joke. She left, all but slamming the door.

When she was gone Greg dropped Ethan. “I'm not going to do that again. Try to keep yourself under control. We'll have plenty of time to kill each other later. I'm doing you a favor here, kid.”

“I'm half a year older than you,” Ethan said when he was standing on his own legs again.

“Yeah, and half a head shorter. Pipsqueak. Anyway. You might want to go pack your stuff. My mom is taking both of our families out for dinner tonight. King's, fanciest food in town. And for Sovereign's sake, put on some nice clothes, would you?”

Ethan's eyes were venom as he made his way to his room. There wasn't going to be any getting out of this one.

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New Terra

JeshiiDoveLove

again, I've already given you my comments ^_^ it's coming along nicely though.

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It wasn't good luck that brought us together. If anything, it was long months of bad luck that finally proved to us that what we were doing separately was never going to work, and together we'll beat it all.

JeshiiDoveLove

So when are you gonna post that new section?

__________________
It wasn't good luck that brought us together. If anything, it was long months of bad luck that finally proved to us that what we were doing separately was never going to work, and together we'll beat it all.