[Isn't set in a Planeshift setting, could be, but doesn't have to be really. Nurahk is my character's name, no relation to the Nurahk in this story same with Cado and Armeen (I use names of my heroes in my stories when creating characters in PS). This is the first time I've wanted to share my writing, it was written at 3AM so...quality probably suffered, I'll proof read it tommorow.]
The cold breeze blew the jet black hair from his face revealing deep, bright green eyes surrounded by pale skin. The eyebrows weren’t perfectly similar and too bushy, he was unshaven enough to look bad but, had yet to cross over to the beard category. Standing a little too tall and not quite muscular enough, Nurahk knew that he wasn’t the hero he had dreamed he would be when he was young. He turned around and frowned, if he didn’t hurry his father would be angry at him for missing out on his chores. An angry dad meant new bruises so, Nurahk ran quickly back to the fields, a 16 year old fearing a beating.
He hated his life, he wasn’t angry that he hated his life, it was just a simple fact. He hated his father for being an idiot and for hurting his mom and brothers; he hated the farm that he had to work on just to survive; he hated the king for taking what little copper the made and, most of all, he hated himself, for putting up with it. He had heard of heroes, who hadn’t: Liesa, the famed princess of the old days, Armeen, the warrior general who was the son of the gods, Cado, the legend, the epic, the greatest hero of all, born of Armeen. All of them were unbelievable, all of them were presumed dead and, all of them were either royalty or demigods.
Nurahk had thought he could become a hero, but who ever heard of a ballad about a farmer’s son? Nobody, and he doubted anybody ever would.
He smiled as he reached the fields and got back to work, maybe he wouldn’t be beaten tonight after all. He looked around him and took in the beauty of the farm, the field of yellow, more like a lake. The wind rushed through and caused the barley to make waves, emphasizing their beauty, he turned towards the wind, closed his eyes and spread his arm. A chill ran through him as the breeze hit him, maybe he never would be a hero, but, at least, he would try to enjoy the life he lived. It’s a wondrous thing when a mood changes, thought Nurahk.
Minutes passed and he did nothing but stand there, enjoying the simple things in life. As he turned back to the field he sighed happily, maybe his life wasn’t all that bad, he thought. Then he noticed his father running towards him, angry. Maybe his life was all that bad.
Nurahk felt the pain sear through his back as he was thrown through the door of his house. He knew his father would be angry, but he didn’t expect this. Surprised Nurahk just lay there and looked up at his father.
“Where have you been, boy?” Yelled his father angrily. From the corner of the room Nurahk heard a whimper and turned to look, there, arms wrapped around her legs sat his mother, her eye bruised and he lip bleeding.
His father picked up a chair and threw it at him narrowly missing him, “I asked you a question!” stormed his father.
“In the fields! Working!” Shouted Nurahk as he stood up, his eyes glancing up from his mother's but never straying for long. What had happened? This wasn’t about incomplete work and he had never seen his mother in such a bad condition, he observed, noticing the bone of her left arm protruding from her elbow. Looking around quickly he noticed a path of blood leading to his brothers’ room, he felt sick…there was a lot of blood.
“Where are my brothers?” Asked Nurahk calmly, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice.
“They were slacking off” Replied his father, “All of them, slacking off…they aren’t anymore…they aren’t doing anything…were you slacking?” Nurahk was taken aback from his fathers response, at sixteen Nurahk was by far the eldest of his brothers, who were six and ten years of ager.
“You killed them?” Nurahk breathed, it was more a statement that a question. His eyes dropped to the floor the rose up to meet his fathers’, “Why?”
“T-taxes…B-b-bad” He heard his mother mutter from the corner. Nurahk took no heed of her words, they barely registered. He hated his life. He was tired of hating his life. Without think he jumped at his father, his right fist swinging at the older man’s ugly face. A hand gripped his wrist and an elbow slammed into his face, stunned he fell backwards against the wall. Dazed, he could just make out his father’s laughter, then his mother’s screaming. Seconds passed feeling like minutes, his mother’s screams had been suddenly cut short. He felt his father approaching him more than saw it. The glint of sharpened metal caught his eye.
He hated his life, luckily, that life was about to end.
[Critisism is wanted >:|. Edited some typos and rephrased a couple passages.]
