Salvation
By Ayesha Raees
Summary: It was time of war. Everyone's loved ones die. Now they travel their ways, trying to find a way to revive them. In the setting of a village thousands of years ago, they change the world to be and the world it is.
Salvation
of my love
that was lost in the burning fire
my hand drips off blood
but it doesn't hurt at all…
But what really makes me cry
is the pain inside.
Prologue
Part 1
Mother?
Mother!?
Why are you sleeping now?
Let's escape together!
Mother?
Are you listening?
He was playing in the small beautiful garden at the back of the house. The sky was a wonderful color of blue and the sun shone in west, about to set. The air was full of the heavenly smell of the spring flowers and everything looked beautiful. He whistled in a tuneless way as he picked up his ball and looked at it happily. He was eight years old, royal bluish gray hair, pale skin, bright violet eyes and a content smile graced features.
He allowed himself to fall back onto the grass, his eyes fixed on the beautiful sky which slowly faded in a moment of twilight. His mother came beside him.
"Kai, it's time to go inside," the woman said in a soft gentle voice, her brown eyes filled with warm and kindness.
The little boy pouted and shook his head. He pointed at the sky above him and said happily.
"The sky is beautiful, mother!" he said.
His mother smiled gently and looked up at the sky. The sunset reflected the sky in a different way that it did everyday. If one looked more carefully, he could find more than a thousand colors in it. Crimson was touched by ginger, sapphire was touched by a strange color of violet; a beautiful, peaceful sight.
"It looks like fire. So beautiful," Kai perked up.
His mother quietly seated by him and he crawled into her lap. There was a minute's silence as they both looked at the beautiful sight before them, both content of each other's company even though they weren't saying a word.
"Fire is the most beautiful element," Kai said again before looking up towards his mother who was gently stroking the boy's back, "Isn't it mother?"
His mother dropped her hand and looked at him with a small faraway smile.
"The things that look beautiful are not always the ones to cherish. Even how beautiful or powerful something is, it doesn't always mean that it's good,"
She got up lightly, carrying the little boy with her. Surprised, he dropped the ball and clutched his mother's white and red kimono. His mother began to walk towards the dojo. After a few minutes, Kai relaxed in her arms.
"What do you mean by what you said before?" he asked curiously.
With surprising strength and flexibility, his mother slid opened the door of the living room and entered, putting Kai down to his feet. The young beautiful woman shut the door and turned on the lamps.
"I mean what I mean," she said before walking towards the window and closing the red elegant curtains.
"And what is that?" Kai asked impatiently.
His mother gave a small quiet laugh. Kai rocked on his heels intolerantly, waiting for her to reply. She walked towards him and patted his head.
"You will understand when you grow older,"
He crossed his arms on his chest and turned his face away, blinking furiously, merely showing that he was not pleased. His mother laughed before disappearing into the kitchen.
His father wasn't at home and even though Kai didn't have such a close relationship with his father like he did with his mother, he was starting to worry where he was. It usually happened that he disappeared for a week or two as he was a trader but now it had been more than two months and he wasn't back yet. Though his routine went like it always did, he would wake up and greet the sun, do some chores, go to school, come back, have lunch and play all day… but he always felt uncomfortable like something was going to go wrong. His conscience was restless and there was a hint of anxiety in the air that made everyone stiffen and vigilant.
The truth was, the dojo was almost empty except for him and his mother. Though in the morning, some of the maids came to help around the house but strangely, there were no guests, no visitors, no friends, no traders… nobody. And it wasn't just the dojo, it was the whole of Trajan, a layer of fright and fretfulness fell on the city and the anxiety grew more and more by each passing day.
Something certainly was wrong.
And then, he went for dinner and tried asking his mother questions related to what was happening. His mother quietly shook her head saying "nothing" and then quickly changed the topic.
It was like, everyone was hiding something from him and those who would tell him just answered him in riddles. He felt helpless and powerless.
The storm was horrible, something he had never seen in years. And the fact that his family was just a few feet away from him, cuddling in the tent, wasn't something to be relaxed about. And he knew that if this keeps up, something terrible would probably happen, including the fact that his younger son was sick. He had only one choice and that was to stay calm and pray to all the mighty Gods he knew.
The sky darkened dangerously and lightening cracked. He squinted his eyes through the rain and saw the lightening hit the horizon and gulped loudly in fright. He dug his spear into the soft muddy ground and continued watching the dark, eerie horizon, waiting worriedly for a sign of any enemy.
He had been living in an army camp for over five months now, waiting and fighting along others. He would return back after a few weeks, heavily injured and exhausted and would thank the God anyway to see his family waiting for him. Their love cured him and he knew that his purpose of fighting was to protect them. But he knew that everyone missed their old home, the city in the Iriana Plains, the city of food and culture, called, Agustria. It was their home, their city, something that he was going to protect because he and his family yearned to go back one day and continue their life like it was when the war had not started.
After a few minutes of waiting under the thrashing cold rain, he was approached by a younger teenage boy, wearing the blue identical armor which represented Agustria, and stopped in front of him.
"Dad, it's my turn now to take this position. The captain says that you should rest now," the teenage boy said.
The old weary but muscular man looked at him with a grave expression and nodded solemnly.
"Be careful Hiro, this storm is horrible," he said sedately.
"Yes Dad, I know. You should return to campsite," the boy named Hiro said as he pulled his spear in front of him and looked at the horizon.
His father nodded again and started to walk towards the campsite, where his wife was probably waiting for him in worry. He sighed as he walked down, out of the guarding barriers on which hundreds of warriors were standing, looking around for an enemy that would be considered dangerous. His metallic armor clanked as he walked through the rain towards the campsite. He reached a certain black tent, on the flap of the tent was sewn the head of a white dragon, its blue and green scales showing brightly even in the rain, it was the sign of peace and stealth and represented Agustria. He sighed loudly before he took off his armor and put it under a sack before entering the tent.
Warmth greeted him and a look of relief came on his face as he sat down next to the burning stove, warming himself. He felt exhausted and tired and the food that his wife served, even though it was bread and soup, looked like heaven to him. He ate silently as he watched his wife worriedly stroke his younger son's navy blue hair. The eight year old boy was lying on a bed made up of straws and old sacks, a thick blanket was over him and his breathes were coming out in great rasps. The man put down his now empty bowl and looked at him, worriedly.
"How is he?" he asked and saw his wife stiffen a sob. She gulped loudly and looked at him, her hazel eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know, he-he-he is not getting better at all," she whispered, choking on her own words as a sob escaped her throat. She started to cry bitterly, resting her head into her hands, ignoring her husband efforts to comfort her.
Suddenly the young boy turned and slightly opened his deep brown eyes. He coughed before looking around the camp. When he spotted his father, a smile came across his pale features and he struggled to get up. His mother, quickly wiping her tears from her face, helped him sit up.
"Hey Dad," he greeted his father with a content smile. His voice and body lacked energy which he was always full of but he still carried on smiling.
"Hey Tyson, how are you feeling?" his father asked him cheerfully. His mother smiled and gently started to stroke his hair again.
Tyson grunted before tugging at his yellow shirt.
"Very hot, how is the weather outside?" he asked innocently.
His mother and father glanced at each other before looking back at him with a smile.
"There is a storm which means that you can't go outside," his mother replied him.
He made a sad expression but suddenly brightened up when an idea struck him.
"Storms are windy right? So why can't I go outside? Winds are beautiful and relaxing right?" Tyson said excitedly, particularly yelling.
His parents looked at him, amused at his innocence. His mother lowered her eyes and started to weep softly. Tyson looked at her in surprise but before he could say anything, his father spoke up in his wise voice, which he rarely used.
"Storms are deadly Tyson. The things that are made up of wind don't always mean they are relaxing or comforting. Sometimes, things change in strange unpredictable ways and at that moment, a person should decide what to do and what not to do. Everything just isn't what it is. A person should see than just know,"
Tyson looked at his father in a very confused expression. His mother whipped the tears from her eyes with a small smile and Tyson looked around, trying to find an explanation. After a few moments, he looked back at his father.
"What?" he asked in such confusion and innocence that his parents laughed at him. Tyson became frustrated.
"What?" he demanded, this time, his voice full of frustration.
His father shook his head before looking at the poor confused boy.
"Ah, you will understand when you grow older," he said.
Before Tyson could further protest, the flap of the tent was thrown open and a panting, slightly injured soldier poked his head inside the tent.
"Granger, hurry, trouble," the soldier retreated with only three words that left the tent in silence that was so cold and sudden that Tyson pulled his blanket closer to him and started to shiver suddenly, despite his warm body heat.
His father deeply breathed in and jumped to his feet. He weakly smiled at them and kissed his son's blazing forehead before walking towards the flap. He turned to look at them with a small smile.
"I will be back," he said.
Tyson suddenly bolted from under his blanket. He, with great force, planted his feet on the ground.
"Do you promise?" he asked loudly.
There was no answer. His father was already gone. Tyson gulped and got up, staggering and swaying from side to side, he started to walk towards the tent flap but wasn't successful. He tripped over his own feet and fell face first on the hard ground. His mother yelped from her spot and got up to help him up. He desperately tried to get up to run after his dad, to stop him from going, to just stop him.
Because he knew, somehow, that this time, he just might not see him again. His mother put her arm around his neck as he felt hot tears build up inside his eyes. He struggled his mother's grip but he was too weak to do anything except just sit there and cry.
"DAD!" he desperately shouted.
And he was only greeted by the crack of lightening and yells of panic from the guarding posts.
The small eight year old elf boy looked up at his mother as she tied her black hair into a high pony-tail and put on her green armor. The armor was lighter than the other warriors so she could move around quickly and with ease. The armor was beautiful it self, green with darker linings on the chest. The linings were carved to make a sword; behind it was the most feared snow tiger baring its teeth. The sign represented speed and intelligence, delicacy and gracefulness, the power of pride, the power of the City that they lived in, the City of elfish culture called Evelyn. A beautiful place in the mountains, few humans, few dwarves and the warriors were either sorcerers or archers. Cunning and fast.
And alas, they were at war.
The little elf tried to concentrate on the words written on the book in front of him which he was suppose to learn for his next lesson but his tries were of no avail. His parents,
nowadays were always getting ready for battles and this had kept him distracted for a time now. Now and then, they would disappear, wearing armors and equipped with weapons and then won't return for weeks. He was scared that one day they won't even be back because he knew some of the people who were still waiting for their loved ones. And, as he watched his mother get ready, something just told him that this time it was big. It was either the strange stiffness in the air or his parent's rigid expressions and actions.
His mother was now in front of the closet, taking out a few supplies and putting in her bag. He quietly closed his book and put it beside him on the bed on which he was sitting. He took a deep breathe.
"Mama?" he began.
His mother looked at him, her beautiful golden eyes boring into him and he gulped loudly.
"When-when will you be back?" he stammered, hesitantly.
His mother looked away from him and picked up her bow from the dresser and tied it on her waist. She picked up the narrow bag of freshly made elven arrows and strapped them on her back. She then, started to fill her side pockets with sharp knives, shirikuns, okatas and magical pearls.
The boy waited impatiently for his mother to reply, becoming restless with every passing second. After a few minutes, his mother turned towards him with a small sweet smile on her pale skin. He froze and blinked a few times. His mother was an elf who was so devoted to her duty that she had forgotten to enjoy the small beauties of life including smiling. And when she rarely did, it either meant that she was proud of him or it meant that something was going to happen…big.
"I will see you soon Ray, don't worry," she said with effort before bending down and strapping her shoes.
Before Ray could say anything else, his mother again interrupted him.
"Go and meet your father before we leave," she said, her voice was surprisingly soft but steady.
Ray wanted to stay with his mother but he knew that he should leave. He picked up his book from his side and got up and exited the room. He walked through the glass-walled kitchen and climbed the winding staircase towards his father's study. He knocked and entered when he heard his father yelled to come in. He smiled at his father who tied his bag of magic powder around his waist and then turned to greet him.
He sat down on a nearby stool and watched his father prepare for battle. His armor, like his mother, was light but he wasn't an archer like her. He was a sorcerer and a swordsman if he ran out of supplies. He flung a black and green cloak over his shoulders and pulled the hood up.
"Is your mother ready?" he asked as he picked up a staff that was resting against his very dirty desk which was still full of papers. His staff was a crooked figure made up of a special kind of wood which allowed magic to be stored into it. It top had a strange knot and was decorated by green pearls. His staff almost reached his shoulder.
"Yes. Papa?"
"Yeah,"
"When will you be back?" Ray asked quietly. Though he had asked the same question from his mother, he just wanted to make sure that they would be back or not.
His father tapped his staff onto the ground for sometime and looked out of the nearby window. The sun was high up in the air, sparsely hidden by the clouds. The surrounding mountains looked beautiful, dressed in greenery and flowers. Their house was high, allowing them to look around at the small houses of one side and the slopes down below. The air was filled with a beautiful aroma of flowers and perfumes but behind the heavily scented aroma, was the stiff feeling of anxiety and sorrow.
"Soon Ray, soon. Don't worry," he said as he walked past him and was about to go out of the door when Ray piped out something that had been bothering for some time.
"Why?"
His father stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at his only son.
"Pardon?"
Ray sniffed and clutched his hands into fists on his laps, crumbling the white summer yukata he was wearing.
"Papa, why people go to wars?" he practically yelled in frustration.
His father sighed loudly and pulled back his long brown hair revealing his pointed ears. He looked at his son in a sad expression and watched him cry for a minute. He walked in front of him and bent down to face him.
"People go to wars because they want to protect what they love from being lost into oblivion. They want to defend and protect their honor and the people and places they
treasure. Wars are terrible but necessary. Believe me Ray, I don't want to go and leave you behind but it's necessary,"
Ray's face twisted in anger as he looked up from his lap at his father's gentle golden eyes.
"If you don't want to go, then you shouldn't! No one's forcing you! Nothing would happen if you stay! What would happen if you-if you- ," but he wasn't able to continue as tears chocked him and he lowered his head and started sobbing, tears falling onto his lap, soaking his yukata.
His father pulled him in a tight embrace. When Ray's sobs decreased, he looked gently up at his father's face, his golden eyes wet with tears.
"Ray, now listen carefully," his father said as he gently wiped his tears even though he was wearing leather gloves. "The world won't become a better place if we don't work together. If I don't go, I won't be able to protect your mother. If we both don't go, the other warriors will either call us cowards or will follow our lead and won't go either. Then our forces will weaken and our land will be destroyed. When our land would be destroyed, you and all the people of this land would be in danger. Then we will live a life full of regret and pain,"
He got up from the ground and smiled at him. Ray blinked as he realized the truth in his words.
"Goddess Ametis and God Fena created people in order to fight in what they believe at. They gave us strength to make sacrifices so we can have a better life than we have now. It is to create a better future and nothing comes without giving something in return. Everyone have to make sacrifices, even if they are little. Things like that make a person powerful and brave," he continued and shuffled his son's shoulder length charcoal black hair which was tied in a lose pony tail.
"I better go or your mother will kill me even before I reach the battlefield," he sighed and rolled his eyes as he exited the study leaving Ray in a middle of emotions. He picked up his book and looked at the elfish language. But he couldn't read. He suddenly got to his feet and threw his book aside before running towards the balcony. He banged open the glass doors and panting, gripped the white cold railings halting to a stop, his bangs fluttered forward but he didn't bother to push them back.
He saw them walking at the end of the street, engaged in a light conversation. Their pace was fast and that explained to Ray how they carried a huge distance in such a small amount of time.
As he watched them disappear, he wished that he could go with them. He wished that he could help them win and protect. It wouldn't be fair if they worked hard and he didn't. He sighed and went back into his father's study, picked up his book and started to learn the magical spells.
He suddenly remembered his father's words and felt himself stiffen in fear… maybe they won't come back after all?
…They gave us strength to make sacrifices…
…they want to protect what they love from being lost…
…everyone have to make sacrifices…
And it was like a new power of determination come over him and his fear vanished. He got up again from the bed and ran down the winding stairs. He stopped at the door way to wear his shoes and then, banging open the door, he ran down the street. The cold fresh air hit his face, refreshing his eyes that stung because of crying. He quickened his pace. He went passed the tall structured houses, ran past the parks and fountains where children his age play, some even waved to him to join in but he ignored them as he kept running, he passed the fields of fruit trees and stopped at the edge of a cliff. Breathing heavily, he looked skeptically down and gasped in relief when he saw that the army platoon in which his parents were hadn't left yet. He scanned the area carefully.
There were almost two hundred elvish warriors scattered down. Some were sitting, waiting to take off where as some helped around the carts which were pulled by horses and were filled with food and supplies. Most of them were closed and bolted, though the windows of the carts were opened so fresh air would keep the food as fresh as possible. Ray gulped loudly, thinking over his plan. He spotted his parents talking to another warrior in a serious expression. Ray frowned and grinned in satisfaction as he noticed that most of them were busy and he could easily slip into one of the carts without notice. He looked around at the carts and saw one leaning against a rock, near the trees. It was almost packed and was waiting to be bolted.
Ray took a deep breath and skidded down the rocks like a cat, something an elf was used to by living in the mountains. He sneaked behind the trees and quickly jumped behind the huge gray rock. He bent down and looked around to see if anybody had spotted him but nobody had. He sighed in relief and with a swift somersault, landed inside the cart.
The cart was stuffed but he was glad that it wasn't full. There were crates of food piled in the corner and they equipped a lot of space. Huge bottles of water were piled at a side, tied together with elfish ropes so they won't fall during the travel. And then there came a mountain of rugs in case they needed them and the boxes of medical aid. Extra weapons and swords were piled in the corner in crates, tied together so they won't move around.
Or in other words, it wasn't anything to complain about as Ray looked around with a smile. He suddenly heart footsteps and quickly jumped behind the mountains of rugs. He waited patiently, ducking his head down from the windows so nobody would spot him. After all, they were preparing for war, and children weren't supposed to be at wars. After some time, he heard the doors of cart shut and bolted from the outside. He was glad that the windows were open and light could come in and allowed him to look outside though he knew that he would have to be extra careful not to be caught. Because if he was caught, he will dishonor his parents and honor, to elves, were as important as their lives.
The cart slowly began to move and Ray settled down on the wooden floor, wishing he would be back at home with his parents with no war to worry about. He closed his eyes and allowed to sleep to conquer him.
He woke up at night, sweating profoundly and tried to ease his beating heart. He had been sleeping a restless sleep with a nagging feeling of being watched and discovered any time. He composed himself and realized the cart was still moving. He slowly and swiftly sneaked out of one of the two windows and saw everyone was still traveling. He was amazed as he looked at the sky and realized that it was almost midnight. Looks like they don't rest at all he thought as he allowed himself to fall back against the rugs. Somehow he just knew that they were far away from the mountains and Evelyn. He wondered if he would ever see it again.
They traveled for three days with nothing happening. Out of the three days, the warriors rested for a few hours. Ray realized that they were far away from the mountains and were heading for the plains. He also overheard some of the soldiers talking about going towards the south where the enemy waited. He wished he could know more about the enemy but obviously, he couldn't risk everyone finding out that there was a mischievous kid hiding in the cart. Soon the land became flat and the pace of their traveling was increased. Nothing was happening and Ray regretted coming.
Though in the fourth day, a terrible storm struck. The clouds were dark and heavy, full of rain and they mercilessly threw lightening at the ground. It was difficult to go through the storm and Ray had a bad feeling of nausea all the time with all the rocking of the cart. The rain and lightening was so fierce that some of the sorcerers were forced to use
magic in order to protect themselves from the lightening that was furiously attacking their little crew. The warriors shut all the windows of the carts from the outside so water won't get in and destroy the supplies. Ray was sitting on the wooden floor in darkness, snuggling in rugs, trying not to vomit and wishing to God Fena to conquer the storm. He felt sick and dizzy and wished for the comfort of his parents.
The storm carried on for a whole day but as they reached the center, the storm did not affect them and at that time they rested. Ray was glad when the windows were opened and he had to cast a spell on himself to camouflage against the wood when his cart was being searched for damages. Though he had arranged everything like it was before and the little food and water that he took before didn't rise suspicion and he was safe for the time being. The door was closed and bolted again, leaving him in isolation again.
But the weather was nicer than before and Ray could now easily overhear all the elves talking. He caught a few phrases of their conditions and then he suddenly overheard the location of where they were going.
They said that there was a big army camp that they were suppose to attack so the other elfish armies could enter the City of Agustria and kill the king. They also said that a few other Platoons would be joining them to destroy the army camp.
And the army camp wasn't far either. Ray felt a shiver ran down his spine as he prayed for safety for his people and him. Soon after that, they began to move on again.
The sea was a beautiful sight that everyone, even those who had no knowledge, admired. The vastness of its beauty spread all around the small group of ships that sailed swiftly towards its destination. Their sails swayed in the wind gently.
On the platform of the main merchant ship, dozens of workers walked to and fro, doing their daily work. One was sweeping, a few were moving boxes of merchandise from one place to another, a few were leaning on top of a map on the front deck and the captain, dressed in an airy white shirt and a buckled blue jacket, steered at the wheel.
A boy, not younger than eight, was humming tunelessly as he tried balancing himself on the wooden edge that separated the deck and the people, who were working busily, below. He had untidy blond hair that were sticking out in various directions but were maintained by wearing a bandanna. The bandanna was covered in white spots and was identical to the color of the sea that spread around them. His shirt was too large for him and was turquoise; the belt that fastened around his tiny waist was black. Down his white shorts, he wore no shoes.
He cocked his head towards the people who were discussing of which best route to take. His sapphire eyes fell on the brown haired, heavily tanned captain who was
staring out at the vastness of the sea. The little boy jumped from the ridge and onto the deck before walking towards the captain.
He tugged onto his sleeve with a content smile on his face. The captain looked down at him and lovingly patted his head.
"What are you thinking Dad?" he asked innocently. His father gave a small silent laugh and raised his eyebrows admiringly at him.
"You seem very observant today," he commented. The little boy blushed at the compliment and gave a small shrug.
"So what are you thinking?" he pressed, trying to find the reason of his faraway look.
The man smiled and looked again out at the reflected sea. It was time of twilight; the sun was about to disappear behind the horizon. The sky was red, violet and a wonderful color of sapphire. The different colors reflected onto the surface of the water, making the people the stop whatever they were doing and stare out in awe. It was like; the sky and the sea were one.
"The sea is a place where people can actually think of what is happening, what has happened and what is going to happen,"
The boy blinked in confusion.
"How is that?"
The captain smiled.
"I can't explain, really. It is just full of strange energy that either helps or destroys. The sea is old and wise, Max… remember that," he replied.
The captain turned back to the crew and clapped his hands loudly to get their attention. Successfully he did and he bellowed to them to keep working. The people, again, started to move, trying to do their chores as soon as possible as the night was approaching.
Max rocked on his heels and took a deep breath of the ocean air. They had been travelling for a week now, aiming to go to the port of Rote where they usually traded. They were traders and they lived near the sea, on the coast where there were more than twenty ports for trading, the land of luxury and prosperity, the City of Anglo. Max, being eight, usually did not companied his father on voyages or just trading from one city to another but sometimes he would be lucky when his father agreed for him to come. Traveling with his father and his crew was a real adventure, something that he always wanted to have and he loved to increase his experience as it would always be
knowledgeable in the future. It was better than staying home with his busy mother, alone, for weeks without his father's company.
The sun soon set and the crew settled down, they were staring out at the sea, talking or helping downstairs in the kitchen. Max inhaled the smell of salt and freshness in the air and looked out at the sea again when he suddenly realized something.
The sea was strangely quiet. The waves were not gentle neither harsh but stiff, like they sensed something was going to happen. The sky, too, was still and dull despite all the stars. Clouds were randomly scattered here and there and the moon didn't seem to come out. Max shivered at the sudden coldness.
"Dad?" he called out to his father, who now was talking to the group of navigators about directions. The captain looked slightly towards Max, said a few words to the group and turned his full attention towards the little blond boy.
"Is there going to be a storm?" Max asked.
His father looked confused before looking towards the sky and around the vastness of water. He deeply frowned, tapping his fingers on the wheel impatiently, before looking down at Max.
"Not really but I sense a strange stiffness. We should be in guard," He said and then suddenly he smiled as his eyes grew bright. "Thanks for telling me Max, you were a real sport!" He rubbed his son's rough blond hair, ignoring the fact that it was covered in a blue bandanna.
The little boy blushed at the compliment as he watched his father shout orders around. He walked towards the edge of the ship, and quietly stared around at the blueness. He slumped down against the wood and yawned suddenly. He shifted his gaze towards the sky and closed his eyes as he relaxed his muscles against the wooden edge of the deck and slowly dozed off to sleep.
There were shouts around him. Panic shouts. Screams and cries. Orders being shout all around. He smelled smoke and sweat in the once fresh sea air. He groaned loudly and shifted uncomfortably before he cracked opened his blue eyes. He could see a little of smoke and then his senses kicked in. Panicked and scared at what was going on around him, he jolted up straight, dizziness conquering his mind for a few seconds but regardless that he sprang on to his feet. Taking a deep breath and rubbing his small hand on his eyes to get rid of the sudden dizziness, he looked around and suddenly froze.
The ship was in total mayhem. The cabins were on fire, which were located at the end of the lower deck. The place where he had been sleeping, on the first deck, was floored with glass. People were running around, with swords and lighted torches looking alarmed, ignoring him. He tried to find his father, fear gripping him.
Suddenly the floor rocked under his bare feet and he soon found out the real reason of his dizziness. The ship rocked again, this time so violently that Max was thrown away against the ridge of the ship and if he hadn't gripped the wooden edge to support himself, he believed that he would have been thrown over board into the deep sea. He gulped loudly as he stared at the sea below and then slowly looked up. His eyes opened wide and his breath was caught in his throat.
Ships, hundreds of them, closed their little convoy in a circle, throwing fire balls at them now and then. They were war ships, the flags of the country they represented were flapping gently in the sea's gentle breeze and the novelty of the symbols could be seen in the star's light. The flag was red with orange flames imprinted on it, behind the flames was a silver chakram, and seeing through the hole of the blades, one could see a wings outstretched phoenix, his beak opened in a silent cry. Below the flags stood soldiers, dressed in red and black colored armor, looking sedately at the burning ships.
Tears were now running down his face as he turned away from the frightening sight and started to run down the deck, not caring as his feet crashed into the broken shards of glass, not caring about the pain, not caring about the cries of others… he just ran, looking around frantically, the chains on his belts tingled gently. He stood there, panting when he suddenly spotted his father at the end of the ship. Yelling on top of his voice, he ran towards him. The captain's face was stiff with grief and worry and he was surprised when he saw his only son running towards him. The captain gritted his teeth in anger and turned towards his son in an angry expression.
Max suddenly halted when he saw his father's angry expression. He blinked innocently at him.
"Max, get the hell out of here and hide!" his father yelled as he suddenly spun around and cut off a rope, which was attached on a weapon and had struck at the side of the wooden pillar nearby, with an axe.
Max blinked again as tears flowed down his face. He was about to protest when suddenly about hundreds of ropes, attached to steel-hookers, crashed down on to the ship. Max staggered a little in shock but regained his balance quickly. But before he could absorb his new surroundings, there were thousands of yells and thumps. He looked around in horror and shock as he saw thousands of warriors, swords unsheathed and armed, stood there, their faces emotionless.
He shivered as his crew unsheathed their weapons. His father looked at his son one last time before launching himself onto the soldiers.
Wow... has extremely improved! I am so happy!
Anyway... This story, Starvation, has been written by me and i got the inspiration by a number of things around me. I started writing and bingo! it became a fanfic! :p
So guys please tell me what you think and review! its not really that bad... though i know its lengthy but PUHLEASE have SOME mercy on me and REVIEW! PUHLEASE!!
Oh one more thing, this is prologue part one... i wanted to add an OC in it... you know, a girl cause a girl in a group will make everything more funny and light. So what do you guys suggest... should i add a female OC in it?? Please tell me!!
Prolouge part 2 will come soon. and with a song that i have recently written... its called "the War Song"
I should stop giving you hints now :p :p XD XD
Bye bye!