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Editor in Chief
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Oct. Contest Entry #10
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 #10 He knew only silence and pain. All else was in constant motion, spinning on the edge of his mental sight. He felt no desire to reach out to the blurry shapes as they whirled by; he clung instead to black numbness of his pain as the drowning man clings to wreckage in a violent ocean. An eternity seemed to pass in the eye of his storm. He dared not think such a thought that would shatter his silence. He allowed himself to be nothing as what seemed like years bled by, ebbing away at his pain until it became a distant murmur. The blackness began to recede, seemingly an eternity later, and the blurriness drew closer to him on all sides; he could do no more than observe them as they slowed their dash, as recognition evaded him. What are those shapes? The simple question resonated throughout his sentience before quietly humming away. Shapes. That shape is a face... He knew this and it pleased him. He felt a warmth flow gently through him as more thoughts appeared from his periphery. He seized upon them hungrily, the pain and silence now only a memory. I am alive. That face is the face of my wife. Oh gods… His consciousness hit him like a club. The levy holding back his complete identity broke in a terrible flash. His memories rushed at him in a murderous torrent, piling on top of each other until he was sure the weight of them would mentally crush him and destroy any last vestige of his existence. They are all dead! Oh gods, this truth. My wife is murdered. She is dead along with our child she carried. He felt himself drifting back into the black abyss that previously consumed him; he watched as the faces of those he loved appeared and then disappeared. His wife first, with tears in her eyes, seemed to call out to him before blinking out of existence. His father and mother lay on the ground in a pool of dark rusty blood. His father looked at him sadly, all the while holding a clenched fist at his chest. His mother wept uncontrollably, her shaking hands covering most of her face. They too dimmed into nothingness. He watched other friends and family fade away in there death throes, and began to notice something else. The visages of his loved ones were being replaced by ugly, twisted green faces. The sight of them shook him to the core. Orcs! More memories inundated him; his minds eye recalled the battlements that he was stationed atop, recalled the way in which he gripped his bow anxiously as he began to grasp what was happening. He knew then the entirety of it, and he felt his whole body shake in anger. “I believe he is waking, Grul.” The voice startled him, and in doing so yanked him out the labyrinth of his own thoughts. “You’re right. That was quicker than I expected.” Open your eyes. Light blinded him as two slits of searing color slowly yawned open in front of him. It took him more than one try to finally force his eyes open, and even longer before what he was seeing began to make sense. “Go slowly, lad. You are returning from death.” He saw that the large shape to his left was what had spoken. He focused intently on the speaker and saw that he was humanoid, and a particularly large one at that, forced to hunch slightly to avoid contact with what appeared to be low branches above his head. “Wha…” was all he could manage. He cringed and tried again. “Where am I?” The crouched humanoid looked solemnly to his left at another similar looking humanoid before speaking. “You are under the canopy of a Jakob’s pine tree. It makes for a handy shelter in times of need, particularly in this season.” “And in times of war,” said the second shape. “Aye, Teric. That it does,” he said before returning his attention to its previous target. “There is much to be explained, lad. I will tell you what I can now, but we must be quick. We are far ahead of the scout van, and we would do best to return to them sooner rather than later.” He took the time to squat down on his knees before continuing. “We found you near death not too far from where are now, among the bodies of many of your kind who appeared to have been killed while fleeing.” “Goblins are fond of chase parties, the gods know,” the man called Teric said softly. Grul nodded before continuing. “Cowards, all of them. Anyway lad, we found you near death and rushed you to the nearest place of safety. My healing abilities kept you alive, and it is my hope that you are stable enough to be transported back to the safety of our camp.” “Who are you?” “My name is Grul, and that over there is my brother Teric. We are what your kind call lesser-giants. We were sent ahead of the main scouting party as outriders to tend to those such as yourself. If you will, lad, please tell us what to call you?” You have a name. She knew you by this. “I am Ryn,” he said, and he knew it to be true. When Ryn spoke his own name it seemed to trigger something more inside of him. He felt again the heavy weight of what he had lost. The truly puzzling nature of the situation dawned on him over his sadness; the people of his hold-fast almost never associated with the lesser-giants to the east. To find two such as these so far west, and offering help no less, made little sense. “Grul. I need you to explain what is happening.” Grul took a deep breath and repositioned himself before he spoke. “The scribes are calling it the Orc War. It’s not entirely accurate though. Those godless curs have enlisted their goblin cousins to fight along side of them, in addition to those flea-bitten wolfmen.” “To hell with them all,” Teric harrumphed. “I remember,” said Ryn “the war reached my hold-fast.” The words shook weakly as they left his mouth. Images of the battle flashed in his mind. The green tide of orcs consumed the horizon in an endless line. Huge catapults had been rigged to hurl orc berserkers directly over the battlements, where they landed and hacked his comrades to pieces with ease. The sound of the battering ram threaten to overtake his heartbeat. The ululating cries of war were a din that accompanied his recollection. He paused, feeling the dread that sat with his next question consume him. “Did you find…any others alive?” “No. I’m sorry lad,” Grul said with a bowed head. Teric sagged his shoulders. Truly, then. They are all dead. Ryn knew the pain he was suffering should crush him. His life as he knew it was destroyed; all he could do is stare at Grul with cloudy eyes. “You saved my life Grul. A lesser-giant.” “Yes, that’s true. There is more you don’t know. Your lord’s main vanguard reached our settlement in flight not long ago. The rest of your kind is united in war, lad. The arrival of your lord began the tie between us. They are calling for our aid. We stand together Ryn, lesser-giant and humans against the orc menace. It is a proud pairing, if you ask me. Many orcs will rue the day that our kinds united against them.” War. This war will spread all over the land, leaving death in its wake. This thought terrified Ryn; he wished for no other to feel pain like his. In the distance, the sound of a horn grew in strength, deep and resonating. Oh gods, that is an orc battle horn! Grul jumped up immediately. “We must leave, now. The orcs approach and this land will soon run red with blood.” “More theirs than ours, gods willing,” said Teric. Grul could only nod as he put Ryn on his shoulder. All Ryn could do was once again lose conciousness.
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O _O..O Editor-In-Chief ......V A N G U A R D .. S P H E R E S......... A n .. O f f i c i a l .. A f f i l i a t e .. F a n s i t e.... |
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