[Kephira]
Kephira sighed and smiled peacefully as she dreamed. She chuckled and turned around in her bed like she would put her arms around someone.
Suddenly her breathing quickened, and her face filled with confusion.
She mumbles "no, my love...stay..."
...what a nice dream. I love the dreams about my one and only love, especially on those long and dusty journeys.
I always miss Proteous, especially during those cold nights and I am always looking forward to fell asleep to be with him.
But this time when I was just about to put my arms around him to breath in his missed warmth he vanished and floated away.
A strong maelstrom grabes me and takes me away and I feel like I am slipping into something.
Then suddenly I stop and I find myself in the mind of someone else...
[Mykentros]
It had been a long day of hunting. The traps I had set proved fruitful, and I had even managed to catch a few clackers unawares. After picking a few final fruits and nuts, I began to return home.
It was growing dark, and the woods felt oddly silent. I approached my home, a small tent that was cleverly concealed in the thick of the forest.
"Mamei? Papei?" I called out, stepping cautiously into my home. My eyes rested on a fallen figure dressed in black, with a black dagger stabbed into its chest. I reached out my hand to grasp it.
"Don't touch it, Myko," I heard my father say. Turning, I saw my mother and father, laying quietly on the ground. Something was wrong--something terrible had happened.
"Come here," said my mother, patting the ground next to her. As I rushed over, she sat up visibly wincing from pain.
"Mamei, what's wrong?" I asked. She quickly hushed me and took me into a soft embrace. We sat there in silence as I felt cold tears fall from her face.
"Myko, I love you. Do you know that?" she said, pulling me away and looking at me in the eyes. My mother had dark piercing eyes, and at times you almost felt as if you were being pulled deep into the dark wells. "There are places, outside of Yliakum, up out and on the surface that you or I or your father have never seen. Places where stones fall from out beyond the sky."
My father lifted his head from the ground, and I realized that he had been listening for something. "They're coming," he said. "We don't have much time."
My mother pulled her necklace off. It was a silver chain with a gem made of iridescent black glass. "Keep it safe," she said. "There are some who will try to take it from you, but this is your own."
"Son-" said my father started. "Come here you little tabei," he said, pulling me into an embrace. "Your mother and I love you," he began. "And no matter what happens, and no matter how far away we ever are from each other, remember that we love you."
"They're here," my mother called out. I turned to see the telltale dots of torches on the far hill.
"They must not see you, Myko," said my father. "Understand? You need to go. Now."
I faltered. I saw my mother pick up a longbow. "I can't run now!" I protested.
"No, it would be foolish to waste your life in such a way," my father replied.
"We are doing this for you, Myko," said my mother in a hypnotic voice. "Go."
And how could I disobey? I left, but I stayed in the nearby underbrush. We owned a single crossbow. We never used it for hunting, and I had never known what we kept it for. It was now, that my father raised the large weapon, and loaded a menacing metal bolt. My mother let loose the first shot. She was an excellent markswoman. As the group advanced, my parents began to throw knives and daggers. It was almost surreal. I could sense, even feel what my parents were doing. At times it seemed as if I was looking out of their own eyes.
I realized that they had set my home on fire. My home, consumed by the hate of those men. I began to stand to rush to my parents' aid, when my mother turned and looked right in my direction. I was hidden deep in the shadows, yet she knew, for her eyes locked onto mine. In was in that moment, that a well aimed arrow arced in and cut her down.
My father limped over to her and held her lifeless figure. Pulling the arrow out of her neck, he picked up her longbow and stood. He pulled the weapon taunt, his powerful body forming a strong silhouette against the burning remains of my childhood home. And suddenly, it was I who was looking down the shaft of the arrow, aiming with deadly precision at the archer who had fired that foul missile. Letting loose the arrow, I threw down the bow. I could see from my own body one of the evil troupe throw an axe. The weapon sailed through the flames, and struck me between the eyes.
I screamed in pain. I began to thrust my dagger into my pillows, my sheets. Coming to my senses, I sat up. Relaxing my grip, I let my dagger fall to the floor, making a cold empty echo in the room. I raised my hand to my forehead to rub the pain away. Unconciously my hand raised up to my neck. It followed the chain down to my chest, where I felt the cold hard stone. I never had a chance to say goodbye.
[First of all, thanks to Kephira for the great intro!
[Ok, so just a few things that may not be clear from reading. The dagger that the assasin had was poisoned, and both parents were stabbed. That's why they didn't run away with Myken. And the other guys were coming because the assassin hadn't returned (they were there to finish the job)
[Tell me what you think. Comments and criticism, anything helpful. (Are the words I made up ok?)
[And something else, if we have any artists here, I would love to have this story illustrated (especially the part where the father stands over his dead wife shooting the very arrow that killed her in revenge with the burning house in the background
)
[Oh, and sorry about the pillows
Put it on my tab]
