Well, this is my ficathon story. I wrote it for Bethy (or Evenstar202) to this plot:
Two people are pursued by Evil Knights and must fight to survive. They seek the help of a seer. It is a medieval setting and a race against time.
What to know :
~_o_~ This means that I switch POV's.
...)o(... This means that, while the POV, stays the same, the time or maybe even place has changed.
You won't see these in this chapter, but in all of the following. Now you may begin! :)
The Orb of Desires
Prologue
A steady flame flickered rapidly as it tore away at its prey. The small log, almost entirely scorched, withered and crumbled. Heat radiated from the fire place, entering the rest of the building. It's light and warmth managed to attract several men.
One of the men, old and obese, grumbled to himself. "…the world ain't what it used to be. I can't believe we must do this."
"Be quiet, Dain." Beside him, a much younger man stared into the flames. He was thoughtful and intense. Every now and again his eyes would flicker towards the entry way of the building.
The three other men in the room were meticulously quiet, purposefully saying little. They seemed to be waiting… hoping… for something.
And after hours of silence, a knock sounded at the door. Three pounds, a pause, two taps, another pause, and five more taps.
Dain nodded towards the door, sighing in relief. "It's them. They've finished. Mably, you must open the door! Let them in."
"Silence." Again, the younger man, Mably, proved his superiority over the other with his demands. Standing, he slid to the door.
Nervous anticipation and shame filled the faces of the waiting men. They watched, intensely nervous, as Mably gingerly pulled the doorknob.
In the doorway stood several people clothed in dark cloaks. One stepped forward, slowly pulling his hood off of his face.
Every man in the room flinched, as though preparing to die at his slightest of movements.
A man, with pale white skin, appeared from underneath the hood. He had a scraggly, graying beard with twigs and branches intertwined within it. He held something in the palm of his hands, something that could only be described as an orb. This orb radiated a beautiful crimson light - casting dark shadows upon the faces of each of the men.
The cloaked visitor chuckled slightly as he watched the men. His laughter echoed off of the wall, his throat clenching - as though unused to laughing. When none of the other men moved to take the orb, or talk, the visitor opened his cracked lips. A sound, indescribable to those who have never heard it, slowly oozed from his throat. Upon later questioning, one man explained that it seemed to echo from all corners of the room, but very softly. Another, however, said that the voice boomed so loudly he could hardly think.
"Where is my payment?"
In a fluster, all of the men aligning the room frantically searched their pockets and other various areas. Each produced abundant gold - in bags, from pockets, in armor, and anywhere else gold could be hidden.
Only Mably waited. He narrowed his eyes, muttering, "This is very important to me, to us. When I sent the messanger, you never explained your price. You only told us where and when to go." Emphasizing his words, he repeated his main point, "You never told us what you wanted. We assumed gold." Mably awkwardly turned towards the nervous men behind him. They worked together in unearthing gold and tossing it into a quickly growing pile of riches. "We've brought plenty."
The bizarre figure at the door almost seemed amused. He shook his head, his black eyes glittering. "Your assumption was incorrect. The dark figure turned to his followers. "We shall be leaving." However, out of the corner of his eye, he watched the soldier's responses to his actions. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.
Mably, Dain, and the three others looked panicked. Horrified. Desperate.
Mably was visibly shaking. "We have to have the orb! Please, please..." He dropped to his knees, as though prepared to plead for his life. "You cannot take it. You musn't!" His voice was choked and miserable, "Please, don't…! We-we must have it. Besides, what else could one want but gold?"
The pale man turned away, his voice tossed over his shoulder. "I anticipated a worthy payment."
"And you'll get one! If you don't want gold…" Lowering his head entirely to the floor, the leader's voice was a croak. "Just-just name your price. We'll get it for you! Really, honestly. Anything."
Sighing, the strange man scanned the room. "You have failed to reward me well. But you say that I might choose my own payment?"
"Oh, yes! Of course."
The stranger frowned. Staring down at Mably's head, he spoke coldly. "Tell me, good sir. Do you know my origins? Do you know who I am?"
Confused, and rather nervous, Mably's voice trembled slightly. "I-I… I have heard of you. But I cannot say I know you as a person. I do know of your origins, if-if that's what you want."
The visitor reached a boney hand to his bearded face. He fingered a particularly large twig that was intertwined with the hair of his beard. "And you still asked for my help? Have you no shame?"
As though stricken with a blow, Mably half sobbed his response. "We had no other choice. We had to come to you." Wrapping himself in self pity, the young man allowed himself to sob violently into the floor. "I-I don't know how it came to this! But it has... and we-we must have the orb."
The only response received was a rough kick in the face.
When Mably's guest spoke again, it was with hostility and hatred. "You are fools. All of you. You came to me - not knowing enough of me. You have dishonored yourselves. You should have known that my people, particularly me, would not want the foolish lust of your kingdom." To emphasize his point, he dropped his gaze onto the pile of gold within the room. " But I am not entirely angry. I will give you what you want. If you uphold your promise to me."
The leader's voice was a whisper. "P-promise? What promise?"
"Allowing me anything that I want, of course. I see it as a promise." The cloaked visitor watched Mably's face while he continued, "But I know that you will regret this promise for the rest of your pitiful lives." Looking up, to be sure he instilled fear in them all, he continued. Each man in the room winced while he spoke. "This day will haunt you until you are old men."
Mably, croaking slightly, muttered, "Please - just tell us what we must give you for the orb."
The man smiled, his lips so pale, they appeared to be almost blue. "Listen to my next words, and remember that you have inflicted this pain upon yourselves. My next words will resonate with you for eternity. They won't leave you. They will haunt you night and day, light and dark, joyful times and sorrowful times." Then, as though he was merely asking about the weather, the visitor spoke his request. "For, if you want this orb, you must give me your families. Your sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles. Any ounce of blood that resembles yours - you must give to me."
The silence in the room was long. There was nervousness that circulated within the veins of each man. Each pondered the idea, their bodies slightly quivering.
The cloaked visitor at the door watched this, amused. He knew that, several sunrises from now, he would forget this situation. He could move on. He would live his life, happy as could be.
But these men? Seeing the agony etched into their faces described it all. These men would never forget. Just as he had predicted.
Again, the visitor was the next to speak. "If you do not give me those that you love then you will not receive what you desire." He held up the orb, enticing them further.
Several minutes later, the leader spoke. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes never left the orb. "We will take you to our families."
As the visitor examined the faces of all of the men, each staring miserably at the orb, he knew they were in mutual agreement.
Each man would give up his entire world for possession of the orb.
Well, Bethy... What do you think of the beginning? Oh, and that question can be for everyone else too. ;)