Linko_16
21st June 2005, 01:37 AM
It doesn't have a name yet, but I wrote the beginning of a story that's been floating around in my head for quite a while. I probably won't post more until I have quite a bit of it done, if not all, but here's a vague beginning.
All was black. The mere notion of detail had been obliterated from the silhouettes of sleeping houses; the air stood dead in its place with no wind to stir it; no animal dared to call out its nighttime song. For a few blissfully unsettling moments, the entire world stood still.
The sun shattered the peace, its light erupting over the horizon and flooding through the cottages and castle of the village. Almost immediately the castle gates were violently forced open and a cart was pulled out, bearing a man tied to a stake surrounded by hay. Peasants rushed out of their houses, keeping clear of the knights escorting the cart through the streets and cheered for the coming entertainment: there was going to be a burning. Noisily they wondered what heathen would be condemned to eternal ****ation. Those near enough to see quickly wiped away their smiles and called out in confusion, “Lesser Okudai?”
This stunning realization threw the crowd into an even stronger fury of volume. Their beloved pastor-to-be whom they all loved and trusted? He had shown so much promise as an agent of the ***dess. There was no mistaking his face, long and thin, just as he himself was lean and bony. He was easily recognized for his rank, wearing the sapphire-blue gown of a Lesser of the Temple complete with the standard tied-back hair arrangement of his jet-black hair. There must have been a mistake. This must be an impostor, who was being put to death for violating Lesser Okudai’s position. The cart was rolled into the village square, where Pastor Retticus raised himself from the lines of knights up onto the addressing platform to speak.
“Friends!” Pastor Retticus cried out, raising his arms. “The boy you see before you has deceived us all for far too long! He infiltrated the Temple of the Valley of Rienun with a false air of loyalty! He pledged his undying services to us! But now his true motives have been made clear!” Pastor Retticus turned to face Okudai, his eyes filled with hatred and rage. “He has spoken out against the ***dess.”
The moment they heard this, the villagers were infected with the rage, calling out threats and profanities. Some retreated for only a moment to grab their garbage and rotten vegetables, carefully aiming and launching each one at Okudai, the abomination that dared to defile the way of She who cared for them them, She who blessed them, She to whom they owed their very lives, the Great ***dess of Rienun Valley. Every face in town was filled with bitterness and contempt at this truly vile and malicious monster except for that of the monster himself. Lesser Okudai’s face was filled with panic and dread.
“Brothers and sisters under the ***dess of Rienun Valley, listen to me and believe what I say!” Okudai called out from the platform. The din calmed slightly, the crowds now laughing as they awaited his pleas for mercy. Even the Pastor Retticus could not help but grin as the sweat dribbled down his face. “For as long our society remembers, our Great ***dess has protected us from the Evil that would destroy us, the Evil that lurks outside our city and would feast on our very souls. For as long as the records can date, our ***dess has kept the walls strong, impenetrable and invulnerable, protecting our city. We owe our survival to her.” Okudai swallowed very hard. The crowd was beginning to eye him with confusion and suspicion. He had been tied to a stake, ready to be burned as a heretic, but here he was embracing the ***dess. Okudai knew how they would react to the message he was forced to deliver next. “But I have had a vision in my sleep. It was no dream, for one realizes when they wake up that they have been dreaming. This was a prophecy of what is to come. I present this with the deepest faith in its validity.
“On the ninth day of the ninth month in the year nine-hundred and ninety-nine, the ***dess’s protection will break and Rienun will be swallowed up by the Evil.”
The mob of loathing before had been nothing compared to how the peasants of Rienun now exploded with infuriation. Rotten vegetables lay forgotten as they now scrambled for horseshoes and stones. Okudai was struck by the hardest and most solid things Rienun’s people could get a hold of, but even the blood that now replaced the sweat on his face would not silence him. Through labored breathing, his speech dimmed and slurred from the wounds on his face, he continued to call out his prophecy: the ninth day of the ninth month of the year nine hundred and ninety-nine.
“Death!” they chanted. “Death to the heretic!”
“Torture!”
“Mutilation!”
“Decapitation!”
“Chop of his legs!”
“Heathen! Heretic!”
“Rip out his finger nails!”
“Go on and let him burn!”
Pastor Retticus needed no more reason to forever mute the abomination. His blasphemy had sentenced him to the fate’s flames, delivery to the ***dess’s Judgment. He lifted the torch and, after lifting it to Mount Omnikyl in tribute to the ***dess, he let it fall onto the stack of hay around Okudai. Even so close to his mortality, he shouted on.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
The peasants whooped and cheered. It was good to this blotch on the Temple wiped out for good, this abomination who had made it all the way to the rank of Lesser with his evil intentions, just under the Pastors.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Okudai’s clothes had caught fire. The heat seared his skin, causing immeasurable pain. The knights guffawed and prodded him with their weapons, knowing from past executions just what he was going through. He deserved it and anything else they could force onto him before his body had finally broken.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Pastor Retticus was no longer smiling. Okudai was still bellowing his blasphemy, not even stopping to scream from the agony of the fire. Furious, he himself joined in on the chants of the crowd.
“Abomination! Abomination! Abomination! Abomination!”
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Those nearest to Pastor Retticus could hear him, and chanted right along with him. The pattern spread, until all Rienuns but one shouted in unison.
“Abomination! Abomination! Abomination! Abomination!”
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Okudai knew he had only moments remaining. His heart, which had been racing since he’d last awoke, was now beating conspicuously slower. His consciousness darkened. His head grew heavy. His body screamed to him with pain. This was the end for him. He only hoped that his message would be remembered and that someone, no matter how few, would know on that fateful day to flee Rienun. He hoped the city he loved would survive. Over the voices of his brothers and sisters who had turned against him, he rang out one last time,
“BEWARE THE NINTH DAY, THE NINTH MONTH AND NINE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-NINTH YEAR!!”
The whole world turned a blood red. Drenched in a cold sweat, a boy named Kaleo Laveda shot straight up in his bed. Like all the other times, what he’d just experienced did not feel like a dream. He was quite sure it was not a dream at all. His eyes darted around a bit before it found the clock atop his bedside table. It’s red, digital numbers pierced the darkness to display “0:00”. He checked the date, just above it.
“9-9-999”
All was black. The mere notion of detail had been obliterated from the silhouettes of sleeping houses; the air stood dead in its place with no wind to stir it; no animal dared to call out its nighttime song. For a few blissfully unsettling moments, the entire world stood still.
The sun shattered the peace, its light erupting over the horizon and flooding through the cottages and castle of the village. Almost immediately the castle gates were violently forced open and a cart was pulled out, bearing a man tied to a stake surrounded by hay. Peasants rushed out of their houses, keeping clear of the knights escorting the cart through the streets and cheered for the coming entertainment: there was going to be a burning. Noisily they wondered what heathen would be condemned to eternal ****ation. Those near enough to see quickly wiped away their smiles and called out in confusion, “Lesser Okudai?”
This stunning realization threw the crowd into an even stronger fury of volume. Their beloved pastor-to-be whom they all loved and trusted? He had shown so much promise as an agent of the ***dess. There was no mistaking his face, long and thin, just as he himself was lean and bony. He was easily recognized for his rank, wearing the sapphire-blue gown of a Lesser of the Temple complete with the standard tied-back hair arrangement of his jet-black hair. There must have been a mistake. This must be an impostor, who was being put to death for violating Lesser Okudai’s position. The cart was rolled into the village square, where Pastor Retticus raised himself from the lines of knights up onto the addressing platform to speak.
“Friends!” Pastor Retticus cried out, raising his arms. “The boy you see before you has deceived us all for far too long! He infiltrated the Temple of the Valley of Rienun with a false air of loyalty! He pledged his undying services to us! But now his true motives have been made clear!” Pastor Retticus turned to face Okudai, his eyes filled with hatred and rage. “He has spoken out against the ***dess.”
The moment they heard this, the villagers were infected with the rage, calling out threats and profanities. Some retreated for only a moment to grab their garbage and rotten vegetables, carefully aiming and launching each one at Okudai, the abomination that dared to defile the way of She who cared for them them, She who blessed them, She to whom they owed their very lives, the Great ***dess of Rienun Valley. Every face in town was filled with bitterness and contempt at this truly vile and malicious monster except for that of the monster himself. Lesser Okudai’s face was filled with panic and dread.
“Brothers and sisters under the ***dess of Rienun Valley, listen to me and believe what I say!” Okudai called out from the platform. The din calmed slightly, the crowds now laughing as they awaited his pleas for mercy. Even the Pastor Retticus could not help but grin as the sweat dribbled down his face. “For as long our society remembers, our Great ***dess has protected us from the Evil that would destroy us, the Evil that lurks outside our city and would feast on our very souls. For as long as the records can date, our ***dess has kept the walls strong, impenetrable and invulnerable, protecting our city. We owe our survival to her.” Okudai swallowed very hard. The crowd was beginning to eye him with confusion and suspicion. He had been tied to a stake, ready to be burned as a heretic, but here he was embracing the ***dess. Okudai knew how they would react to the message he was forced to deliver next. “But I have had a vision in my sleep. It was no dream, for one realizes when they wake up that they have been dreaming. This was a prophecy of what is to come. I present this with the deepest faith in its validity.
“On the ninth day of the ninth month in the year nine-hundred and ninety-nine, the ***dess’s protection will break and Rienun will be swallowed up by the Evil.”
The mob of loathing before had been nothing compared to how the peasants of Rienun now exploded with infuriation. Rotten vegetables lay forgotten as they now scrambled for horseshoes and stones. Okudai was struck by the hardest and most solid things Rienun’s people could get a hold of, but even the blood that now replaced the sweat on his face would not silence him. Through labored breathing, his speech dimmed and slurred from the wounds on his face, he continued to call out his prophecy: the ninth day of the ninth month of the year nine hundred and ninety-nine.
“Death!” they chanted. “Death to the heretic!”
“Torture!”
“Mutilation!”
“Decapitation!”
“Chop of his legs!”
“Heathen! Heretic!”
“Rip out his finger nails!”
“Go on and let him burn!”
Pastor Retticus needed no more reason to forever mute the abomination. His blasphemy had sentenced him to the fate’s flames, delivery to the ***dess’s Judgment. He lifted the torch and, after lifting it to Mount Omnikyl in tribute to the ***dess, he let it fall onto the stack of hay around Okudai. Even so close to his mortality, he shouted on.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
The peasants whooped and cheered. It was good to this blotch on the Temple wiped out for good, this abomination who had made it all the way to the rank of Lesser with his evil intentions, just under the Pastors.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Okudai’s clothes had caught fire. The heat seared his skin, causing immeasurable pain. The knights guffawed and prodded him with their weapons, knowing from past executions just what he was going through. He deserved it and anything else they could force onto him before his body had finally broken.
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Pastor Retticus was no longer smiling. Okudai was still bellowing his blasphemy, not even stopping to scream from the agony of the fire. Furious, he himself joined in on the chants of the crowd.
“Abomination! Abomination! Abomination! Abomination!”
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Those nearest to Pastor Retticus could hear him, and chanted right along with him. The pattern spread, until all Rienuns but one shouted in unison.
“Abomination! Abomination! Abomination! Abomination!”
“Beware the ninth day, ninth month, and nine-hundred and ninety-ninth year!”
Okudai knew he had only moments remaining. His heart, which had been racing since he’d last awoke, was now beating conspicuously slower. His consciousness darkened. His head grew heavy. His body screamed to him with pain. This was the end for him. He only hoped that his message would be remembered and that someone, no matter how few, would know on that fateful day to flee Rienun. He hoped the city he loved would survive. Over the voices of his brothers and sisters who had turned against him, he rang out one last time,
“BEWARE THE NINTH DAY, THE NINTH MONTH AND NINE-HUNDRED AND NINETY-NINTH YEAR!!”
The whole world turned a blood red. Drenched in a cold sweat, a boy named Kaleo Laveda shot straight up in his bed. Like all the other times, what he’d just experienced did not feel like a dream. He was quite sure it was not a dream at all. His eyes darted around a bit before it found the clock atop his bedside table. It’s red, digital numbers pierced the darkness to display “0:00”. He checked the date, just above it.
“9-9-999”