Magi of all
1st August 2007, 02:51 AM
Forever Dark
The darkness of the forest was overpowering, enveloping, suffocating. The normal glow of the moon weaved between the trees, casting eerie shadows of dark magic and darker men. Glowing eyes peered from the undergrowth, promising pain and death to those who intruded into their sanctuary. The darkness hid all from the prying eyes. Only the strong survived in the darkness. The weak ones lived in the day, protected by their precious sun. It was only at night that the strong emerged, ready for another night of peril and survival. Only they knew of strength, wit, cunning, and danger, only they new of truth and fairness. They judged with their own minds, believing in only what they could conclude. The witless beings of day depended on others, looked to leaders, to their light, for guidance. They knew nothing of the dark, and the freedom it brought. Instead they lived in invisible shackles of light, bound to the whim of the daylight ones, slaving in freedom. He chuckled at the thoughts he once had, when he to was bound in the light.
The sun peaked high in the sky, it glorious blaze beating down on the people. They went about their business as usual, carefully minding the time, ears alert for the sound. At thirty minuets to noon the bell sounded, its note pure, clear and perfect. The last of the shops closed their doors and dimmed their lights. It was the last call. Soon, the midday, holiest of times when the sun was at its apex, would be here. The people filed into the temple, their heads bowed in reverence. None dared look at the sacred gold carvings, their brightness blinding and radiant. Not but Elior Dougal.
A stout muscular boy of sixteen, Elior looked the part of blacksmiths apprentice. His hands were large, his arms larger. He had a hardened look on his face and a thin bit of stubble on his chin. Only his eyes displayed the youthful boy within. He kept his mind sharp and his tongue quick. A joke or quip was never far from his reach and many a villager had fallen victim to his pranks. While adults found his exploits shameful, children found them amusing. The children were his best friends. If there was one thing he adored most in this world, it was children. It was to them he was the most open, only they truly heard them laugh.
“Boy, quit yer gawking and bow yer head in respect. This be the house a god.” Elior quickly did as his master told. Garrick Tenzen was a well respected and he did not want to blemish his master’s name. He was lucky Garrick had taken him in. Many in the village found him insufferable. As far as masters went, Garrick was a fair one. He only punished stupid mistakes and was a good teacher. Complements were few and far between, but were heartfelt and honest. Plus he had a sense of humor if you looked hard enough and struck the right places.
“Yes sir, sorry sir” Elior kept his head bowed low, only sneaking glimpses of the carvings when he thought Garrick was distracted. Not that Garrick wouldn’t notice, the blacksmith was far more observant than most people gave him credit for. Elior stopped quickly, nearly hitting the person in front of him. He looked towards the podium in anticipation. The elderly priest hobbled toward the alter, a look of reserve on his face. Elior could tell by the old mans demeanor that this would be a long ceremony
“People of Kohinoor, I come before you with much sadness in my heart. For even though the suns holy light shines down upon us this noonday, we must mourn. One of our own has fallen from the light. She has consorted with dark magic to bring misfortune and pain on others. She is guilty of the highest crimes and must be punished. Bring forth the sinner.” Form the curtain behind him a girl was brought forth. The clothes were dirty and torn, with signs of a struggle. Her hair was tangled and matted, dried blood clear as day in contrast to the blond curly locks. Elior’s breath caught in his throat. It was Idril, one of the girls he frequently gave sweets to. Garrick’s hand on his shoulder was the only thing that kept him from running forward. He waited, anxious but ready to listen.
“Just yesterday, this girl was heard wishing pain and death on the Abram’s, respectable farmers. She was mot seen for the rest of the day. Then, that night, while returning from the privy, master Abram fell and broke his right leg. No stump, root or rock was seen in the way. This girl’s dark magic has caused it. The Abrams will not yield such a good crop this year with the master’s leg broken. They must hire on help that will take their money. Their children may starve in the winter. This girl has brought death on another family. For this crime, the only punishment is for her to pay with her on death.”
The people cheered the priest’s words. Elior trembled under his master grip. Fists clenched in fury of the accusations. Without warning, he wrenched himself from Garrick’s hand and made a break for the alter. Years of hammering metal gave him the strength to push aside the adults. He stopped in front of the alter, looking up at Idril. His eyes locked with hers. With all his might tried to comfort her. He could see what she really was. Not a dark with, but a scared little girl only seeking comfort. He looked at the priest, venom in his eyes.
“She has done nothing wrong, she was with me all afternoon. I went to market with her to buy her some sweets. She said nothing about the Abrams at all.”
The priest looked down at Elior, contempt written on his face. “Why should we believe the words of an undisciplined trickster boy with no respect for authority. I bet you assisted her in summoning the demon that broke Master Abram’s leg.”
“We did no such thing! After the market she returned to the shop to watch me work.”
“Work your evil magic. If you have begun to work such blasphemies then shall I assume the Master Garrick has done so as well?
“STOP TWISTING MY WORDS YOU OLD BASTARD!” A collective gasp resounded from the crowd at his words. The priest looked down with malice. That outburst had sealed his fate.
“Enough of this savagery. We shall test you with the holy light. Guards, bring them to the alter.” Elior did not resist the guard’s hold. It was pointless, unless he had a weapon he would not be able to overpower them. He became dead weight in their hands as he was dragged to the alter. “If a cloud does not move over the sun in five minuets, then you will both be pronounced guilty.
Elior did not bother to hope. There was not a cloud in the sky that day. There never was. He instead focused his mind on find a way to prove that Garrick was innocent. As he thought he reached over to comfort the girl next to him. She winced at his touch. He could see bruises on her skin. He hugged her gently as she cried into his shirt. They both knew death was coming, it always did. Briefly he saw her parents in the crowed, their faces stone cold, disdain evident. He found Garrick just as the five minuets ended. Sorrow played across the old mans face. There was nothing he could do.
“Your time has ended boy. You and the girl are clearly guilty. Death is to good for you heathen.” The priest grin was evil incarnate. “now, on to the subject of Garrick”
“Garrick, you fool. I lead you on this whole time. You had no idea I was using you and your shop as a base to summon demons. Looks like I get the last laugh.” The priest turned to him, a look of murder twisting his face into a grotesque image.
“Guards, kill the girl, I must exorcise the demon in this boy.” Elior could only look on in horror as, right before his eyes, a little girl, innocent of all crimes, was sliced in half. The crimson life splashed on the alter, running rivulets along the ground. Some got on him, but he was to shocked to wipe it off. It was not the brutality that shocked him, he was use to it. It was the cheers of the people. Cheers that included her own parent’s voice. In his shock, he registered the priest leaning close, whispering in his ear.
“Just between us, the girl was delicious.”
Red filled his sight and instinct took over. Instinct that included punching the priest jaw so hard his neck snapped. The falling body went unnoticed by Elior. Thinking only of escape he dove off the alter. The window, the opening to freedom. He dove through it, the shattering glass reminiscent of his faith. That was the day he descended into darkness. To think, all that time spent in their world. All he had to do to be free was open his eyes. Now that he had, the darkness was there, forever.
The darkness of the forest was overpowering, enveloping, suffocating. The normal glow of the moon weaved between the trees, casting eerie shadows of dark magic and darker men. Glowing eyes peered from the undergrowth, promising pain and death to those who intruded into their sanctuary. The darkness hid all from the prying eyes. Only the strong survived in the darkness. The weak ones lived in the day, protected by their precious sun. It was only at night that the strong emerged, ready for another night of peril and survival. Only they knew of strength, wit, cunning, and danger, only they new of truth and fairness. They judged with their own minds, believing in only what they could conclude. The witless beings of day depended on others, looked to leaders, to their light, for guidance. They knew nothing of the dark, and the freedom it brought. Instead they lived in invisible shackles of light, bound to the whim of the daylight ones, slaving in freedom. He chuckled at the thoughts he once had, when he to was bound in the light.
The sun peaked high in the sky, it glorious blaze beating down on the people. They went about their business as usual, carefully minding the time, ears alert for the sound. At thirty minuets to noon the bell sounded, its note pure, clear and perfect. The last of the shops closed their doors and dimmed their lights. It was the last call. Soon, the midday, holiest of times when the sun was at its apex, would be here. The people filed into the temple, their heads bowed in reverence. None dared look at the sacred gold carvings, their brightness blinding and radiant. Not but Elior Dougal.
A stout muscular boy of sixteen, Elior looked the part of blacksmiths apprentice. His hands were large, his arms larger. He had a hardened look on his face and a thin bit of stubble on his chin. Only his eyes displayed the youthful boy within. He kept his mind sharp and his tongue quick. A joke or quip was never far from his reach and many a villager had fallen victim to his pranks. While adults found his exploits shameful, children found them amusing. The children were his best friends. If there was one thing he adored most in this world, it was children. It was to them he was the most open, only they truly heard them laugh.
“Boy, quit yer gawking and bow yer head in respect. This be the house a god.” Elior quickly did as his master told. Garrick Tenzen was a well respected and he did not want to blemish his master’s name. He was lucky Garrick had taken him in. Many in the village found him insufferable. As far as masters went, Garrick was a fair one. He only punished stupid mistakes and was a good teacher. Complements were few and far between, but were heartfelt and honest. Plus he had a sense of humor if you looked hard enough and struck the right places.
“Yes sir, sorry sir” Elior kept his head bowed low, only sneaking glimpses of the carvings when he thought Garrick was distracted. Not that Garrick wouldn’t notice, the blacksmith was far more observant than most people gave him credit for. Elior stopped quickly, nearly hitting the person in front of him. He looked towards the podium in anticipation. The elderly priest hobbled toward the alter, a look of reserve on his face. Elior could tell by the old mans demeanor that this would be a long ceremony
“People of Kohinoor, I come before you with much sadness in my heart. For even though the suns holy light shines down upon us this noonday, we must mourn. One of our own has fallen from the light. She has consorted with dark magic to bring misfortune and pain on others. She is guilty of the highest crimes and must be punished. Bring forth the sinner.” Form the curtain behind him a girl was brought forth. The clothes were dirty and torn, with signs of a struggle. Her hair was tangled and matted, dried blood clear as day in contrast to the blond curly locks. Elior’s breath caught in his throat. It was Idril, one of the girls he frequently gave sweets to. Garrick’s hand on his shoulder was the only thing that kept him from running forward. He waited, anxious but ready to listen.
“Just yesterday, this girl was heard wishing pain and death on the Abram’s, respectable farmers. She was mot seen for the rest of the day. Then, that night, while returning from the privy, master Abram fell and broke his right leg. No stump, root or rock was seen in the way. This girl’s dark magic has caused it. The Abrams will not yield such a good crop this year with the master’s leg broken. They must hire on help that will take their money. Their children may starve in the winter. This girl has brought death on another family. For this crime, the only punishment is for her to pay with her on death.”
The people cheered the priest’s words. Elior trembled under his master grip. Fists clenched in fury of the accusations. Without warning, he wrenched himself from Garrick’s hand and made a break for the alter. Years of hammering metal gave him the strength to push aside the adults. He stopped in front of the alter, looking up at Idril. His eyes locked with hers. With all his might tried to comfort her. He could see what she really was. Not a dark with, but a scared little girl only seeking comfort. He looked at the priest, venom in his eyes.
“She has done nothing wrong, she was with me all afternoon. I went to market with her to buy her some sweets. She said nothing about the Abrams at all.”
The priest looked down at Elior, contempt written on his face. “Why should we believe the words of an undisciplined trickster boy with no respect for authority. I bet you assisted her in summoning the demon that broke Master Abram’s leg.”
“We did no such thing! After the market she returned to the shop to watch me work.”
“Work your evil magic. If you have begun to work such blasphemies then shall I assume the Master Garrick has done so as well?
“STOP TWISTING MY WORDS YOU OLD BASTARD!” A collective gasp resounded from the crowd at his words. The priest looked down with malice. That outburst had sealed his fate.
“Enough of this savagery. We shall test you with the holy light. Guards, bring them to the alter.” Elior did not resist the guard’s hold. It was pointless, unless he had a weapon he would not be able to overpower them. He became dead weight in their hands as he was dragged to the alter. “If a cloud does not move over the sun in five minuets, then you will both be pronounced guilty.
Elior did not bother to hope. There was not a cloud in the sky that day. There never was. He instead focused his mind on find a way to prove that Garrick was innocent. As he thought he reached over to comfort the girl next to him. She winced at his touch. He could see bruises on her skin. He hugged her gently as she cried into his shirt. They both knew death was coming, it always did. Briefly he saw her parents in the crowed, their faces stone cold, disdain evident. He found Garrick just as the five minuets ended. Sorrow played across the old mans face. There was nothing he could do.
“Your time has ended boy. You and the girl are clearly guilty. Death is to good for you heathen.” The priest grin was evil incarnate. “now, on to the subject of Garrick”
“Garrick, you fool. I lead you on this whole time. You had no idea I was using you and your shop as a base to summon demons. Looks like I get the last laugh.” The priest turned to him, a look of murder twisting his face into a grotesque image.
“Guards, kill the girl, I must exorcise the demon in this boy.” Elior could only look on in horror as, right before his eyes, a little girl, innocent of all crimes, was sliced in half. The crimson life splashed on the alter, running rivulets along the ground. Some got on him, but he was to shocked to wipe it off. It was not the brutality that shocked him, he was use to it. It was the cheers of the people. Cheers that included her own parent’s voice. In his shock, he registered the priest leaning close, whispering in his ear.
“Just between us, the girl was delicious.”
Red filled his sight and instinct took over. Instinct that included punching the priest jaw so hard his neck snapped. The falling body went unnoticed by Elior. Thinking only of escape he dove off the alter. The window, the opening to freedom. He dove through it, the shattering glass reminiscent of his faith. That was the day he descended into darkness. To think, all that time spent in their world. All he had to do to be free was open his eyes. Now that he had, the darkness was there, forever.