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Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 195
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A Wolfe's Tale
Here's a little excerpt from the longest story I've ever written, in my typical fantasy style:
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The bright shafts of sunlight filtering through the thick canopy of trees made the ground look like a dancing swarm of glowing pixies. A small boy, his hair as black as night, his skin as pale as cream, sat watching the sunlight dance upon the ground. He was garbed in only an overly large brown shirt with cut off sleeves, and a pair of gray trousers. His rich green eyes fluttered along as the wind swayed the trees and caused the light to dance.
“Frederick! What are you doing outside?” called a sing song voice from behind the boy.
Frederick turned his head, looking behind him at the beautiful woman who was his mother. She had his dark hair and pale complexion, but her eyes were as blue as the sky.
“I told you to straighten your room, Frederick,” said his mother as she took him by his hand. Frederick followed her, glancing longingly back at the light show he had been enjoying.
“Now, go inside and straighten your room, but then wash up. Dinner is nearly ready.”
Frederick smiled up to his mother as he walked toward the old wooden house that was his home. It was a three room house. Just barely room enough for he and his mother and father, with one room to spare for eating and cooking.
Frederick was only about twelve years old, but many thought him younger. He stood at a short height for his age, and rarely talked. Some called him a lame child, only to withdraw their comments at the death glare from his mother. She knew he was not lame, nor defective. She knew he was special.
Frederick went in to his small little room, sat upon his small little bed, and began stuffing his wooden toys and things under the bed. As he did so, he heard a horse approach outside at a slow trot, and the creak of wagon wheels. His father was home.
Frederick jumped up excitedly, running out to greet his father. His father was a big, burly man. A woodsman by trade, who went every couple of weeks to take his furs to the market in the village nearby. His father had the rich, forest green eyes as well.
“Father!” Frederick cried, as he hugged the big man’s legs.
“Ah, hello, Frederick,” laughed his father, patting the boy on the head. “I’ve got a gift for you!”
Frederick stepped back and looked up, his eyes wide as he smiled a bright, childish smile. Frederick’s father turned to the wagon and rummaged through some things, before producing a small little toy crossbow. Frederick laughed and giggled as he took the crossbow from his father, running off toward the house to show his mother.
Frederick’s mother emerged from the house and caught him, picking him up and twirling him around as she laughed. “A crossbow, hmm? Perhaps little boys shouldn’t be playing with such things,” she said, giving Frederick’s father a distinct look over Frederick’s shoulder. She sat the boy down and rushed over to the big man, letting him wrap her in a warm embrace.
“Good day, my love… I mourn the moments I miss while away from you,” he said as he smiled, spinning her around as effortlessly as she had spun Frederick.
The day was a good day, for Frederick. He and his mother and father ate in the common room, a small dinner of beans and bread with some cheese for each. Water was not Frederick’s favorite thing, but it was the only thing to drink most of the time.
After dinner, Frederick rushed to his room to play with his crossbow, pretending to shoot dragons from the sky and trolls from their caves. His laughs filled the house with the warmth that only a child’s laughter can bring. His mother and father sat cozily next to each other on their large bed, a breeze fluttering through the open window.
“You really should have gotten him something more… innocent, Gabriel. I don’t know if I like him playing with a weapon, even a fake one,” said Frederick’s mother, frowning a bit.
“Oh, it will not harm him! Ease up, he’s a boy, he must have some fun sooner or later,” replied Gabriel, a grin spreading across his kind face.
“You know what I am talking about. He needs nothing of the life you once lead, love, and that toy is a symbol,” said Frederick’s mother, lowering herself to lie in the bed with her arms spread above her head. A loud yawn escaped her lips as she looked up to big Gabriel.
“Well, Selene, I hope that this one slip will not make you love me less,” said Gabriel as he lay down and propped his head up on his hand, looking at her.
“Of course not, love. It’s just that it took so long to leave that life,” Selene replied, with a soft sigh as she looked toward the fading light in the window.
“It will never be like it was, love. I promised you that a long time ago, and I shall keep that promise,” said Gabriel, his grin now gone, replaced with a somber and serious expression.
Selene suddenly reached up and wrapped her fingers in Gabriel’s curly brown hair, pulling his face close to hers. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she looked in to his green eyes. “And I’ll hold you to that,” she said, as she placed a loving kiss directly upon his lips.
He grunted as he lifted himself away from her, his eyes looking concerned.
“What is it, love?” asked Selene, a moment before her eyes became worried as well.
“Frederick is too quiet,” they both said in unison, as they flew to their feet and rushed to his room. As they came to the threshold, they were both filled with dread, until they peeked around the corner.
Frederick lay upon his bed, clutching his crossbow to his chest, his eyes closed and his chest moving in the deep rhythm of sleep. They both sighed audibly and hugged one another, smiling in relief. “We are far too paranoid, love,” muttered Gabriel, picking his wife up and carrying her back to the bed.
“Perhaps not too paranoid,” said a foreign voice from the doorway, deep and harsh, but in a strange sort of whisper.
Gabriel rolled over his wife, to the edge of the bed, where he reached under it and grasped for something. Selene shot up to her feet, looking to the man with an expression of horror.
The man in the doorway, garbed in a dark robe with a hood pulled over his face, had a crossbow aimed at Gabriel, who lay frozen, no longer clutching for the thing under the bed.
“What do you want, Morai?” asked Gabriel, his voice having an edge to it, despite his obvious disadvantage in the situation.
“Unfinished business. You know the type,” said Morai, a wicked grin spreading across his face as his crossbow turned toward Selene.
“No! She does not deserve this. Take me instead,” said Gabriel, righting himself and standing in front of his wife.
“A bolt can go through three people before it stops, Gabriel. You know this well,” said Morai, a wicked cackle emanating from under the hood.
“I’ll not let you harm my family!” bellowed Gabriel, bringing his hands up in front of him and leaping toward Morai. The string snapped and vibrated, sending the bolt flying toward Gabriel. It met his chest with a sickening crack as it broke bones in his body, entering forcefully. The bolt was aimed too high to hit Selene, however, and as it exited Gabriel through his back, it buried itself in to the wooden wall, near the ceiling. Gabriel landed on top of the smaller Morai with a loud crack as the hooded man’s head hit the floor. Gabriel lay limp on top of him.
Selene wept. She rushed to Gabriel’s side, attempting to roll the large man over. Gabriel’s lips moved slowly as she leaned down to kiss his cheek, having given up on rolling him off of Morai.
“Save… Frederick.”
The finality in the words frightened Selene, as Gabriel quit breathing and suddenly became lifeless. She had no time to mourn, and had known this day might come.
Selene got up to her feet, going to the edge of the bed and pulling the set of throwing daggers from underneath. No crossbows for her, this was her weapon. She rolled up the bundle and placed it carefully in to a shoulder pack, after pulling a few select knifes from the set and putting them in to her sleeves. She went and took the sleeping Frederick from his bed, laying him against her chest as she gathered a few of his small blankets and toys and packed them in to the pack as well.
She winced as she looked at her lifeless husband atop the murderous Morai. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer before she stepped out in to the night, away from the horror scene. Off they went, in to the darkness of the forest.
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