Oct. Contest Entry #8

[Aredhel]

The stories submitted to Vanguard Spheres have not been edited, unless done by request to the author. We encourage responses to the content, as they will be taken into consideration in the judging. Enjoy! ~A~

Beta-Slot Entry #8

The Story As Remembered
by Aixdel RageSeeker

The loud sounds, clankings of metal, crackings of what seems like a Wizzards display, and a faint memory of these words that seem odd when spoken, "FINAL STAND." The feeling of total weakness, hearing the screams, looking to a shiny-dressed figure moving in what looks almost like a dance. "LAY ON HANDS." Blackness envelopes me as I feel as if I'm falling.........

"Father, Father! Where are you?" I call as I run through the fields of corn and beans, the mainstay of my family here on our farm in Tursh. "Mother said to come, its time to eat!"

Running along, I feel the leaves of the corn on my arms lapping at my face, the feel of the freshly turned soil that my father had turned recently under my feet. I could hear Father Working as I neared the last place I had seen him before Mother had sent me to summon him to eat. I was hoping to hear his great tales of being in the Army many years ago, the tales of battles he was in, the things he had seen that always made me dream and wonder if I could be like him one day.

The Clankings were louder now and sounds of anger. Was my father mad again? His hoe must have broken again and the old nag is still lame in the shelter we built for him to recover in. I'd better ask nicely or feel his hand upon my Cheek.

"ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGgggggggggg! DIE, you beast!" I heard my father yell.

The air around me seems to crackle and the smell of rotting foods and of the hole behind the unused fields that my father called a latrine assaulted my nostrils. I stopped dead in my tracks watching the large figure of my father fall upon the ground before me through the corn. The sounds were moving away.

I run to my father's side calling "Father, please get up. It's time to eat, Mother said." I then notice the side of his sun-beaten face it was bloody, sliced open as if from a sword. Fear, anger, and rage boil into me as I stand, knowing my father will never tell stories to me again. I leap through corn where my father had fallen only to catch a glimpse of the ragged looking figure in a very old looking outfit of leather and chain mail armor that my father had described to me. Fear gripped me as I watched it walk away into the woods. Then More Loud Noises some poor unfortunate soul in its way again… My unclad feet stuck in the ground. What could I do?

I imagined the look of horror in my eyes as I told mother of what happened to Father but saw the look of pure terror in her eyes knowing that the stories were true, that the Undead had been sighted and now had killed her mate, my father. She was looking to me and crying. "What will we do now? You're just a boy. Who will care for us?"

Knowing my mother was just now feeling the depths of her despair, she would eventually realize that father had taken care to save while he toiled away at the fields and that we really didn’t need to work, that we could live quite well off the gold he packed away after sales of the left over foods we had. But I would let her feel her grief for she had another coming. I had heard the stories of the young boys who ran off to the City, the New City of Targonor. I would go and join the ranks and help to kill the ungodly beasts! I must prepare for my mother first; only then will I leave.

The wagon ride was long and my bones ached and I needed to get out of the back of this wagon. My only hope was that it was truly heading towards the City. Had I taken some of the gold I could have paid for the ride there, but Mother would need it all and the hay looked quite comfortable to sneak into while the old man had gotten something to eat at the tavern at the edge of our village. It was night and I could go hidden without him knowing.

Waking to the sounds of horses and men talking, I peeked out from my hiding place to discover that we were indeed near the City. There were many people and horses! It looked like an Outpost. There were men on horses wearing shiny armor, people bustling about them, helping. It was time. I could get to the City easily from here. As the wagon slowed to a stop I crawled out, my back to the wagon.

“Get away from there, young man! What are you trying to do? Steal from me?” The old man screamed at me from the side of the wagon where he had just stepped down. .

“No,” I said as I moved away, not wanting to cause a commotion.

Far in the distance I could see it. New Targonor was beautiful! My journey had not been for nothing. There were the high buildings, the Towers! My eyes had never seen such wonders. I knew I must hurry there to be able to join the Fight. I walked from the road into the green meadow and stared hard at the sight before me. The beautiful river flowed around the City like a blue snake, trees here and there, what looked to be a forest off in the distance, and the walls, the enormous walls. How would I get into the City to join I asked myself. The sound of the hoofs brought me out of the stupor I was in while gazing at the view before me.

“It does look wondrous from here, doesn’t it, my boy?” A very large man that was on a horse that was far more beautiful than any steed I had ever seen. And the man’s armor was shiny with strange markings. His sword looked as if it would burn him! It was on fire! Yet he calmly kept looking at the view before him as if nothing was wrong.

“I’m going there,” I said, “to join the Army and to help fight the evils that are a pestilence to my family’s farm.”

Laughter rang in my ears from the crowd that had gathered to gaze upon the Knight and his steed. He then looked down at me from his steed. I could see his face clearly. His eyes were kind and warm, yet I could tell at the same time he had seen death and stared it down. A slow smile curled his lips and he spoke to me. “A warrior are you then? Hard training it is to choose that life and dangerous as well.”

“Yes Sir, I want to be like you - a Warrior!” I told him.

“Well then,” he said, “You must go to the Temple in New Targonor. Seek out work there. Tell them that Samuel has sent you. Is that your weapon on your back, boy?” the Knight asked me. I knew he was referring to the long skinny pack wrapped in deerskins to hide my Father’s sword from the War from view. It was old and rusty and very heavy but I would learn to use it. “Let me see it, boy.”

I trudged it off my back and unfolded the wrappings with both hands showing it to him. The look on his face made me angry. I knew it was nothing compared to his sword, yet it was my father’s and my best shot; at least I had thought so. He looked into my eyes sensing my anger; then turning on his steed, he reached into the side satchel and removed a short sword. It was very new looking, yet at the same time it was as if it was older than time itself. “Show this to the Guards at the gate. Tell them Samuel sent you to show it to the Priests there. They will let you in.”

I took the sword into my hand and felt that this sword was not meant for me to hold. I had seen this type before but where I couldn’t remember. “Thank you, Sir. I will do just that.”

With that, he turned and galloped away towards the forest before I could thank him for the gift. I quickly wrapped my new sword into the deerskins and hefted my father’s sword over my shoulder, walking with pride toward the great City. The day is bright and the birds are flying and chirping. The amount of people working in the fields is amazing! I watch what looks to be finger wigglers practicing on wild dogs and the birds flying around. Some were almost funny as the birds started to peck them on their wizardly hats. Is this what it’s like to live near the City?

Up ahead I could see the guards milling around the fences that lined the road to what looked like a main gate further down the way. As I approached them they gave me passing glances, more at the sword over my shoulder than really at me.

“Hail to thee,” one of the guards said as I walked onward. “Sheath that sword,” he said to me. “The guards on duty won’t take kindly to that weapon.”

I heard his words and kept on walking. I thought “Sheath? What sheath?” All I had was a deerskin wrap pack that held the new sword, the one given to me by, hmmm, oh no! I’ve forgotten the name of the man who gave me the sword and told me to show it to the Priests!

Looking forward toward my goal I could see the long, wide stone bridge that traversed the river below. I should stand and look over when I get there. I kept hoping that I would remember the name before I got to the gate. I kept walking while looking at the well placed stones that showed Great workmanship and hitting myself on the head tying to remember that name!

A voice boomed ahead of me. “Halt in the name of the King of Targonor! Throw that sword to the ground! Cease movement or I will run you through!” Fear gripped me and I stopped. Too long had I been walking trying to remember and now, now… Oh no! I felt the sword being lifted from my shoulder as the Guards overtook me. “Hah hah! It’s just a boy! State your business here.”

One of the men laughed. The other one who lifted my father’s sword from my tired shoulder said, “This belongs to a Warrior! I’ve seen these before.

“This belonged to someone from the Old City. Where did you steal this sword, boy?” the first guard turned on me.

“I didn’t steal it! It was my father’s. He was killed and I’m here to avenge his death!”

“What?!!” The Guards eyes registered shock and surprise at my anger and boldness. “So it was your father’s? And who in the City do you propose to kill to avenge him, eh?” the one holding my sword said.

“No one here. I came to join the Army. I came to fight the Undead who killed my father while he was farming!” I Yelled at him.

“But, you said your father was a Warrior!” the guard sneered.

“No, I did not. You said my father was a Warrior, not I. You are holding his sword.” I don’t know how silly I was looking but I was angry and getting madder by the passing second. Then I remembered the short sword in my deerskin pack. “I have something to show you,” I said as I Removed the Deerskin wrappings From the mysterious sword. “Here. Look at this.”

Both men stood deathly silent as I removed the Sword from the skins. Their eyes had the look of fear most have not seen. Cartheon steel I heard them whisper. My father’s sword made a loud banging noise as the guard beat the shiny well-dented symbol used for summoning the gate to be opened. “Alas! What do you want?” the man on the other side almost shouted as he came through. “Why do you disturb me while I’m eating?”

“We have something of interest. We think you should have one of the Tower Priests come take a look at this,” the guards informed him.

“Come,” said the Guard who came to the gate. He pushed me through the gate and forced me into a small room with a single chair. Slam! Clank, clank. The door closed behind me. The only light came from a small open window in the door.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Where are my swords?” But it was to no avail. There was only silence from the other side. I turned and looked at the chair. Realizing I was tired and was helpless the chair looked inviting and I decided to sit and just wait. Surely they wouldn’t forget about me! I had something important enough for them to let me in, didn’t I? Looking around the room was quite dank and musty smelling. I was so tired. Sleep for my weary eyes.... Sounds, chanting, no… not chanting. Whispers? Who would whisper? Yelling from far away. Moaning all around. “Father!” I shouted as I awoke with a start! Slowly coming to my senses I saw the light from the door as it opened.

“Bring him to my chambers in the tower. I must speak with him at once!” someone commanded.

As we walked into the City I was amazed at the sheer size of the beautiful streets paved with stone. There were statues standing all around us. Some were holding bows, others were holding swords, there was even one standing in the middle of the street, a dark figure with a cloak and holding a lantern and a staff of some sort. But the ones I really liked were the ones who reminded me of the man I had met. “Samuel!” I said aloud not realizing I was even talking.

“What?” said the robed figure in front of me, whose face I had not yet seen. “Samuel, you said? Hush now. Keep walking. We’ve still a way to go.” We passed into a tunnel with statues on both sides. The helmets had points upon them and they were holding what looked like the Brush axes we used to clear land on the farm only Different. Dangerously Different

The City was bustling with people going this way and that. I could smell food being cooked and the smell of bread in the air made me realize how hungry I was as we walked by the markets here and there. The sights made time pass so quickly that soon we were inside. I hadn’t noticed anything about the building I was in, just that we were going up steps and soon was in a book filled room with old furnishings everywhere, yet beautiful in design. “Ah! Here we are at last. Take that chair there, my boy, and please tell me how you came to have this sword,” said the man I’d been following all this time. “and why are you at new Targonor? Hmm? Speak up, boy! I haven’t all day!”

“Well, Sir,” I said, “I met someone at the Outpost who gave the sword to me, a Knight. His name is Samuel.”

“Yes, I see,” said the man whose robe still hid his eyes. “So you met with Samuel, one of our Holy Knights, a great fighter indeed! He was on his way here to tell us of something he had found not so far from here. in Tursh, I believe is where he was, a small farming village on the outskirts of the King’s realm. But why would he give you this Sword?”

Stunned, I sat looking at the sword lying on the table in front of me. Is it possible? Could it be? I knew I had seen that sword before. I stood up and said, “This is the sword that killed my father.” I was sure of it. It was all too clear to me now. Samuel must have been in the woods and had been following the beast when he found it attacking my father. He must have seen me at my father’s side. Why else would he have so freely sent me to the City with his sword, especially one of such importance.

“Hmm,” said the man, “And you delivered the Sword. When you could have so easily Sold it for Gold. This was a test from Samuel, one of great importance I must say as well.”

“Yes, Sir. I want to be just like him one day.” I said with great pride in my voice. “Then I can hunt down the ugly creatures that torment the farming village of my family to the North. Do you know how I can become like him?” I said to the man.

He slowly leaned back into his large chair, hands reaching for the helm of the hood he wore, slowly removing it. “Yes, my son, I do know, and it seems that you have been chosen. I regret in a way that it was this way, but if you feel strongly about this, I will grant your wish to become like Samuel. Do you choose the path of a Paladin, a Holy Knight bound by his undying duty to protect the lands against the kinds that killed your family?”

“Yes, Sir!” I heard these words come out of my mouth. He was talking about training and very hard work, learning the holy way of the Warrior, the tasks that I would have to do, and the tests that would come. All these things I vaguely heard, yet none of them mattered to me because in the end I would be like the man who killed the beast that killed my father and that was good enough for me. I would pass the tests and do what I needed to do!! I would be a Warrior Not Just Any Warrior But a HOLY WARRIOR a PALADIN. I would have my Revenge.

White lights. Talking all around me. Sickness in my stomach, weakness, bones aching. Someone talking… Who? Father? Father?!!

“Easy, Sir Aixdel. Let the effects of the resurrection wear off, “ said Alcleric my friend. “Your father, Sir Aixdel? Wasn’t he killed many years ago?”

“Ah. Was I dreaming Cleric?” I tried to clear my head.

“No, Sir Aixdel. You were with the Gods,” Alcleric explained. “You must rest some and then be ready for the next wave. The Undead warriors are returning. That last group had an Undead Mage. Had you not used your “Lay on Hands” on me I would not have survived to revive you. Your sacrifice was a great wonder Aixdel, and was enough for me to repel them long enough to revive our group for another defensive.”

“Get up, ya lazy Paladin,” said the Dwarf as he neared me. I smiled remembering Ogied Atoe.

“Aye, small one,” I smiled at him. “I’m coming around.” There’s Still Work to be Done Are we still a Full party? Gird your Loins For Again WE FIGHT.

The Memories of the Past Flooding back to me Embolding me to strengthen the Code of honor I Accepted so many years ago.

[Raolinx Aeromancer]

Nice. I like the use of resurection. You don't see that much. Not sure if Revenge is a good motive for becoming a paladin though. Not that someone wouldn't want to but would a god accept and gice there grace to someone devoted more to there anger and revenge than to their God? Still a good story.

Rao

[Dwiglex]

True maybe a Better word he should have used was VENGENCE.
but Gods Seems to Like Revenge. its a Strong Motivator.
Would the Good Gods be Angry at a paladin if he wanted Revenge on an Undead? hmmm good Point i suppose.