terra child
12-23-2005, 08:45 AM
this is the first chapter in a story that i hope to finish before i die
im not a baby, so im not going to cry if you tear it apart. just as long as you give me a real reason why a certain part is weak, and possibly some suggestions as to how i can improve it. thanks.
He stared out the second floor window, into the streets beneath him. Only the silhouettes of the closest houses were visible through the fog. Occasionally the moon would win a victory over the canopy of clouds and shine onto the tin rooftops of the crooked houses below. Even from his window high above the city he could make out some of the figures from the North wandering aimlessly in the streets. He turned away, and faced the others inside. There were six others besides himself, each sitting (or standing) in various places throughout the darkened room. His back caught the warm air from the window dancing with the drapes. Finally he broke the silence.
�Well? Any suggestions?� After clearing his voice, a short, yet muscular man behind the only table in the room spoke. His voice was low and rough, and muffled behind his thick beard.
�I�ve told you before, this is an intrusion. We have all heard the stories about these Northern folk. I daresay some of us have actually lived through some of these stories.� At this the others stared deeply into his eyes. His warning carried a lot of merit, though. The hills and valleys to the North possessed many dark tales of the wizards who inhabit the land, and their powers. No country was brave enough (or foolish enough) to go into war with the wizards of the North simply because of the rumors behind them. For the most part, however, the Northern folk kept to themselves, and for the past couple centuries, the world was content with that.
The man in the corner continued on. �We must strike first, before they kill us all...� But he barely got out his last words when another chimed in.
�Are you mad? We cannot attack them for no reason! There are no signs of hostility as of yet, and if we do strike with no proof of endangerment, Astral will have all of our heads! Please, Mr. Cervic, we cannot attack these people!�
The mayor stood, his eyes hidden behind shadows.
�Then it�s settled, we will not harm these people, as they haven�t yet harmed us.�
�NO!� The bearded man yelled. He was on his feet now, and had determination engraved into his eyes. �We cannot take the chance! If you are content with sitting back while your city is jeopardized, then you should never have beared the right to be mayor.� The mayor just stood, with his back to his city. Again the bearded man spoke.
�If we cannot attack first, then we must at least have a plan. We should have scouts surveying their moves throughout the city, and call in from the kingdom for more soldiers; backup. I daresay we�ll need it, mayor.� He looked through the shadows Mr. Cervic hid behind, into his cool dark eyes. Silence conquered the room for a tense moment.
�Fine, Kouken, I�ll personally write for backup.�
�Thank you, mayor.� The bearded man immediately walked out of the room. The others soon followed, whereas the mayor returned to the window, to look down to the streets below. The warm air was still gently blowing throughout the quiet city of Orsa.
The next day it was apparent the villagers were concerned with the prowlers. Homeless intruders from the North could be seen almost anywhere, and nobody was certain why they were there. Nevertheless, life continued, and the market was just as busy as the last day, or the day before. The women could be found in Market Square, buying for the night�s dinner, whereas the men could be found owning the shops of which food was bought, or in smithies on the West end of town. Kouken was prowling the streets, content with having no other scout but himself, watching the Homeless of the North. They roamed the city aimlessly, usually in the shadows of taller buildings, or alleys. Most of them possessed long, darker hair, and wore torn, dark cloaks that fell to their ankles. Many also seemed on the verge of starvation, as their bodies were incredibly skinny, when in open sight. Kouken himself looked worn to the eye. Under his clothes he wore a cheap vest of leather armor, as a precaution.
The villagers looked at Kouken as something of a maniac. He served in many wars, and was very experienced in politics, as well as battle tactics, however the series of events didn�t do him well. He was considered paranoid, unsafe to others, and was generally avoided. His looks didn�t help his case either. Kouken was older than most working men, and had many battle scars across his face and body. He was balding, but what hair he did have was long and thin. He also wore a beard down to his chest, which was red and curly, and perhaps the only �friendly� thing about his appearance.
Nevertheless, Kouken walked through the cobbled streets of Orsa, in and out of the shadows of the crooked buildings lined up beside each other. Most of the shops and markets were in Market Square, which lied at the center of the city. The houses of the owners of these stores were built on the second floor, which towered over the rest of the city. The farmlands rested to the East, which faced the rest of the world, and the Smithies were perched on the base of the Port to the West, with their backs to the Ocean.
The sun swam through the sky, and Orsa hadn�t experienced anything as little as a pin drop, let alone a massive onslaught of magical intruders. Peace continued on for days, in fact, and the homeless were beginning to be treated like homeless, and not soldiers of war. Kouken seemed to be the only one still battling a relentless struggle against the thought of evil, and no villager with any common sense treated Kouken seriously. The backup of soldiers from their kingdom had come and gone, and only a remaining handful were left behind, just incase something were to come up. Slowly, Kouken retired from the streets earlier than before, and continued most of his vigil after nightfall from his window, instead of on the streets.
One particular morning found Kouken in the port, concerned with other matters besides the Northern folk. A shipment of minerals had sailed from the West to Orsa and was headed to the smithies of the city for crafting. Kouken personally bought from a man whose smithy was in the port, and who was responsible for the city�s harpoons, and other sea-tools. The man had become notorious for his work on weapons, and was given a job to supply the seamen with reliable tools for the Ocean. Kouken, however, kept the man in business as far as land weapons go; he was a personal friend of Kouken, and would specially craft for him before anyone else. It was at this man�s garage where Kouken stood now.
�Well hello, old friend!�
�Gibli, it has certainly been a while, hasn�t it!�
�Indeed, it has! And having it been a while, what now brings you to my smithy?�
�Hahaha, always with business, you are, Gibli. That�s why I always said you were always better financially. Anyway, to answer your question, I�ve noticed a couple days ago at the port inventory that a hefty share of fortus has made its way into Orsa. Well, I need a favor of you, Gibli.�
�A favor� those are famous last words, Kouken. Especially from you.�
�Yes, yes, I know, but hopefully this current scenario will play itself out to be better than my past. I�m sure your aware of the current issue Orsa has at hand right now, with the homeless?� Gibli nodded. �Well they�re here to do some damage. I don�t know where, or when, or to what exactly, but the way things unraveled themselves, I just don�t like it. I don�t trust �em��
Gibli wore somewhat of a serious expression. �They�ve been in our city for weeks, now, Kouken. Wouldn�t they�ve already attacked if that were what they were here for? Perhaps their city was finally confronted and beaten in battle, and these are refugees?� Despite his suggesting it, Gibli was well aware that the North hadn�t been attacked, nor lost a battle. In fact, Gibli�s fright for the homeless was reignited by Kouken�s concern for them.
�You�re too smart to be thinking that. I don�t know why they haven�t attacked, though. It just doesn�t make sense. But I�m not here to debate why the North finally came down to play. My sword, the one from Shiini, it�s reaching its final days, and I don�t have the time, nor the money to visit Shiini again for a reforging. You�re the next best thing.� At this both Kouken and Gibli laughed, and Gibli agreed to forge a sword for him. The port had had a quiet month, so Gibli was facing little work repairing and replacing old tools. Kouken�s sword was said to be made within the next couple days.
After attending to business between weapons and city issues, and visiting with an old friend, Kouken walked to Market Square, to pick up his meal for the night. He was not married, nor did he have a significant other, so Kouken was responsible for his own errands.
Market Square was busy as always. People rushed throughout the busy streets like ants, occasionally bumping into each other. Sellers were yelling from their stands for buyers, while those who owned buildings had large signs painted overhead to attract customers. Kouken walked into an older building, right in the center of Market Square. The inside was cool and dark, and reeked of meat. It was a butcher. He went across the wood floors (stained with animal blood) and up to the lady behind a counter.
�Lamb chops, please. Two pounds.� The lady looked at him with a nervous eye and said �Right away,� before walking to the back. Moments later she returned with a fearful expression on her face.
�I�m terribly sorry, Mr. Kouken, but� but we haven�t received our shipment of lamb today from the farm. It� It usually comes before dawn, but the sheppard never came.� She looked as if Kouken was going to kill her. This was how he was usually treated, actually. This or like a maniac, who should be locked up.
�The farmer never came, huh,� was the gruff response. �Well I was really looking forward to lamb tonight, so I think I�m going to pay this sheppard a visit. Tell me, what farm is his?� The lady wrote something onto a piece of paper and handed it to Kouken. He looked down to see directions to his farm. According to the paper, it was the last farm to the East, just off the woods to the South. Kouken bid the lady farewell and walked out; the doorbell ringing from his absence.
The walk to the farmlands seemed a lot longer than it really was. Kouken�s mind was occupied with the reason of the sheppard�s nonappearance. Now that he thought of it, he had only seen a few homeless souls wandering the streets today, and was beginning to get concerned. Had they already attacked without him knowing it? It was a perfect plan, they started the furthest from the city, in the farms; the furthest from help. Kouken was running at this point, maneuvering through the villagers and their belongings. The sun was beating high overhead, and was already making its was back down for the night. He imagined there were only a couple hours of daylight left.
As Kouken made his way closer to the farmlands, he noticed a severe rise in the count of homeless. They were all facing the East, and slowly making their way in the same direction Kouken was. He looked down as he ran. There were only four daggers in his belt, and no sword for defense. It had only been that morning that he asked Gibli for a new sword. None of the homeless, however, were paying any attention to him. They remained with their faces to the West, even as he ran past them.
Kouken finally made it to the farmlands, and was already bolting down the road to the end of town. The homeless were traveling slowly, and they were growing thinner and thinner in numbers. When he reached the missing sheppard�s house, Kouken saw a carriage outside, ready for departure. He assumed that was the sheppard�s, and hadn�t been attended since early this morning.
Without knocking, he rushed into the door, pushing it aside to see two people: the sheppard, standing over his wife, who was lying on the table; legs spread apart.
�I� You�re, you�re alive, thank God.� The sheppard turned around with a severe expression on his face.
�My wife is in labor!� The sheppard yelled. �We�re having a baby!� Then it had hit Kouken: they weren�t in danger, nor had they already suffered an attack. The Sheppard missed work today for his wife�s labor. But all the experience of wars and politics hadn�t prepared Kouken for this.
He ran across the room to the table the sheppard�s wife lied on. She was moaning and screaming, occasionally kicking, and the sheppard was at a loss to know what to do. The best Kouken could do is stand and look at the scenario before him. What could he do? Should he tell her to stop kicking, or to breathe slower? Maybe he should have a blanket ready for when the baby comes. Then like a wave pulling back into the ocean, his worries about the baby had left him. Kouken spun around to the doorway, and a rush of horror overcame him.
Two wizards, heavily cloaked in black were standing in the room. One didn�t seem to have legs, and walked with two crutches protruding from the sleeves of his arms. His whole head was hidden behind a large hat, which faced the floor. The second wizard had only one crutch, and both legs, and was slightly smaller. It was he that raised his hand to the Sheppard�s wife.
She screamed louder than before, clearly in a horrible agony as she flailed across the table. Then her stomach ripped apart, almost exploding in the process, and her baby slowly rose, in midair, about two feet above the womb. The baby�s mother was dead.
�AARRGGHH! You monsters! You killed her! You killed my wife!� The sheppard yelled, and immediately ran blindly at the wizards. But he was too fast, and Kouken didn�t have time to respond. The sheppard had fell to the floor in front of him, dead as his wife, with blood dripping from his empty eyes and mouth.
Kouken was alone with two wizards: two of the most powerful and feared creatures in history. The baby, still hovering above the womb was crying, and was apparently the reason for the wizards� arrival.
�You will not harm this baby,� Kouken slowly said.
�You will not stop us,� replied the legged wizard, and with that raised his hand at Kouken. Kouken felt a tight grip on his face, and was immediately tossed effortlessly through the air by magic, to the closed door behind the wizards. They walked forward to the screaming baby. Kouken was slow to get up, but while he did, he fastened his grip around a dagger on his side, and let it fly through the air to the back of the smaller wizard. Before it pierced the cloak, the dagger flew to the left, as if a huge gust of wind had blown it off course. The wizard was magically protected, even from the back.
�Damnit!� Kouken yelled. Both wizards turned around. The smaller one raised his free hand at Kouken. He was raised off the ground by what seemed to be an invisible hand choking his neck. He couldn�t breathe, and his legs were flailing. The room grew blurry as Kouken�s hand made his way to another dagger. He lifted it with a burst of strength and hurled it towards his opponent. The dagger was aimed below his body, and made its way into the crutch he was leaning on. The wizard lost his support, and leaned into the wall, then slid to the floor. Kouken fell to the ground, gasping for air. This was his only chance at rescuing the baby. He had to do something before the wizard got back up. But there was still one more, and the room was spinning...
Kouken jumped to his feet with a rush overwhelming his mind, and pulled a dagger from his belt and whipped it at a crutch supporting the taller wizard. The dagger didn�t make it halfway across the room before it veered upward and pierced the ceiling. Kouken was still running. Then he jumped, grabbed onto the dagger in the ceiling and threw his final dagger to the wizard�s crutch. The dagger flew to the side immediately after leaving his hand, and landed by the wall. But Kouken�s last move was already in progress when the dagger fell. His feet were firmly planted together and were inches from the wizard�s face: Kouken had caught the wizard before he had time to recover.
He had planned to strike into his face at this very moment, but his feet kept going. The wizard, in a last effort to remain untouched disappeared, and was still reappearing by the time Kouken had landed, and grabbed the baby. When both wizards were on their feet again, both Kouken and the baby were gone.
Day and night were battling for custody over the world, as the sun was low in the West, and the moon just above the valleys to the North. Orsa was quiet. Most villagers had already returned home for the night, and the others were just now closing up to go home. Within the next hour only stray dogs and now vigilant wizards walked the streets.
Kouken had run south to the woods below the farmlands, and was watching the wizards from afar. His head was pounding and he couldn�t escape his light-headedness. The two wizards he fought emerged from the house some time after Kouken had escaped, and others came from the city to meet them. There was some discussion, too low and far for Kouken to hear. He looked down at the baby. It wasn�t awake, yet still breathing. It possibly needed help, and neither Kouken nor the baby were safe to return to the village to see a doctor. He looked back up at the gathering. The group was smaller than before; some must have left in search for him. Shortly after, the rest of the group dissolved, and spread throughout the area. Three wizards were heading in his direction, almost staring at the exact spot he and the baby hid.
A rush of warm air pushed against his face as Kouken ran, with the baby close to his chest. They maneuvered throughout trees and bushes, hedges and rocks, and Kouken tried to run as directly south as possible. He turned his head back, and could see the light from the moon piercing the canopy and hitting the forest floor. He could also see light from the farmlands, and the silhouettes of the three wizards searching the entrance to the woods.
His foot caught something, and before he knew it, he was rushing down, face-first with the baby in front of him. Kouken�s free arm reached into the ground and barely provided enough support to quietly hit the ground, with no damage to the baby.
�Oh my goodness,� he whispered to the baby. Then he turned onto his back, and lied on the ground, looking into the trees. He was too dizzy to get back up. His body was older than it used to be, and he couldn�t handle being choked as well as in the past. Maybe he was cursed; under a spell. But the smaller wizard had fallen to the ground, and prior to that, was already attacking him. There wasn�t any time to curse Kouken.
The taller wizard! But, he hadn�t moved a muscle. Was he really that powerful in magic to cast without saying anything, or moving a single finger? Kouken�s head ached too much to think, and he wanted to close his eyes more than anything.
Sleep it off, Kouken, that�s all you need. But his eyes remained open.
I can�t close them, I�m cursed. I�ll fall asleep; they�ll find me and this damn baby. He breathed in deep. Slowly and deep. His hand rose from the cool ground to his hot face, then into his dirty hair. He rubbed his temples. He heard the wizards. They were close. But he didn�t get up. He couldn�t get up. He lied and listened. The dead leaves occasionally crumbled off in the distance, and a trig would snap under the weight of someone�s body. It was getting closer. Kouken focused his eyes back into view, and look at his surroundings. He had fallen into a ditch, and his foot was still next to the root he had tripped over. The owner of the root was only a couple feet away, growing as tall as any of the trees around him. Bushes and weeds were almost everywhere, as well as patches of dirt. His head had almost fallen on a rock just to the right of him when he fell.
Snap! They had to be within twenty feet of him now. Kouken lifted his head off the ground to see above the ditch. A bush was to the left, and farther back, he could make out the tops of two wizards. Where was the third one? Kouken looked around. Nowhere. It may�ve gone some other way. Yes, that�s it. His head fell to the dirt, and he curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible.
Crunch! Ten feet. He couldn�t lie there. He had to do something. His eyes went in and out of focus. The blurred tree spun to the left of him, and took the place of the bush, which spun so far left it has disappeared from vision. His head kept turning. He was looking at dirt now. Dirt, and a rock.
That�s it! His hand grasped the rock firmly, and he swung his arm over him. Somewhere to the left of his body he heard it land, a good while away. This was followed by the snaps and crunches of the twigs and leaves between the wizards and the rock. Kouken�s head was killing him. And his eyes couldn�t remain open. Hours seemed to pass, and slowly the sounds of visitors left the area. But he remained in that very spot for most of the night, where darkness eventually overcame him, and he fell deeply into sleep.
im not a baby, so im not going to cry if you tear it apart. just as long as you give me a real reason why a certain part is weak, and possibly some suggestions as to how i can improve it. thanks.
He stared out the second floor window, into the streets beneath him. Only the silhouettes of the closest houses were visible through the fog. Occasionally the moon would win a victory over the canopy of clouds and shine onto the tin rooftops of the crooked houses below. Even from his window high above the city he could make out some of the figures from the North wandering aimlessly in the streets. He turned away, and faced the others inside. There were six others besides himself, each sitting (or standing) in various places throughout the darkened room. His back caught the warm air from the window dancing with the drapes. Finally he broke the silence.
�Well? Any suggestions?� After clearing his voice, a short, yet muscular man behind the only table in the room spoke. His voice was low and rough, and muffled behind his thick beard.
�I�ve told you before, this is an intrusion. We have all heard the stories about these Northern folk. I daresay some of us have actually lived through some of these stories.� At this the others stared deeply into his eyes. His warning carried a lot of merit, though. The hills and valleys to the North possessed many dark tales of the wizards who inhabit the land, and their powers. No country was brave enough (or foolish enough) to go into war with the wizards of the North simply because of the rumors behind them. For the most part, however, the Northern folk kept to themselves, and for the past couple centuries, the world was content with that.
The man in the corner continued on. �We must strike first, before they kill us all...� But he barely got out his last words when another chimed in.
�Are you mad? We cannot attack them for no reason! There are no signs of hostility as of yet, and if we do strike with no proof of endangerment, Astral will have all of our heads! Please, Mr. Cervic, we cannot attack these people!�
The mayor stood, his eyes hidden behind shadows.
�Then it�s settled, we will not harm these people, as they haven�t yet harmed us.�
�NO!� The bearded man yelled. He was on his feet now, and had determination engraved into his eyes. �We cannot take the chance! If you are content with sitting back while your city is jeopardized, then you should never have beared the right to be mayor.� The mayor just stood, with his back to his city. Again the bearded man spoke.
�If we cannot attack first, then we must at least have a plan. We should have scouts surveying their moves throughout the city, and call in from the kingdom for more soldiers; backup. I daresay we�ll need it, mayor.� He looked through the shadows Mr. Cervic hid behind, into his cool dark eyes. Silence conquered the room for a tense moment.
�Fine, Kouken, I�ll personally write for backup.�
�Thank you, mayor.� The bearded man immediately walked out of the room. The others soon followed, whereas the mayor returned to the window, to look down to the streets below. The warm air was still gently blowing throughout the quiet city of Orsa.
The next day it was apparent the villagers were concerned with the prowlers. Homeless intruders from the North could be seen almost anywhere, and nobody was certain why they were there. Nevertheless, life continued, and the market was just as busy as the last day, or the day before. The women could be found in Market Square, buying for the night�s dinner, whereas the men could be found owning the shops of which food was bought, or in smithies on the West end of town. Kouken was prowling the streets, content with having no other scout but himself, watching the Homeless of the North. They roamed the city aimlessly, usually in the shadows of taller buildings, or alleys. Most of them possessed long, darker hair, and wore torn, dark cloaks that fell to their ankles. Many also seemed on the verge of starvation, as their bodies were incredibly skinny, when in open sight. Kouken himself looked worn to the eye. Under his clothes he wore a cheap vest of leather armor, as a precaution.
The villagers looked at Kouken as something of a maniac. He served in many wars, and was very experienced in politics, as well as battle tactics, however the series of events didn�t do him well. He was considered paranoid, unsafe to others, and was generally avoided. His looks didn�t help his case either. Kouken was older than most working men, and had many battle scars across his face and body. He was balding, but what hair he did have was long and thin. He also wore a beard down to his chest, which was red and curly, and perhaps the only �friendly� thing about his appearance.
Nevertheless, Kouken walked through the cobbled streets of Orsa, in and out of the shadows of the crooked buildings lined up beside each other. Most of the shops and markets were in Market Square, which lied at the center of the city. The houses of the owners of these stores were built on the second floor, which towered over the rest of the city. The farmlands rested to the East, which faced the rest of the world, and the Smithies were perched on the base of the Port to the West, with their backs to the Ocean.
The sun swam through the sky, and Orsa hadn�t experienced anything as little as a pin drop, let alone a massive onslaught of magical intruders. Peace continued on for days, in fact, and the homeless were beginning to be treated like homeless, and not soldiers of war. Kouken seemed to be the only one still battling a relentless struggle against the thought of evil, and no villager with any common sense treated Kouken seriously. The backup of soldiers from their kingdom had come and gone, and only a remaining handful were left behind, just incase something were to come up. Slowly, Kouken retired from the streets earlier than before, and continued most of his vigil after nightfall from his window, instead of on the streets.
One particular morning found Kouken in the port, concerned with other matters besides the Northern folk. A shipment of minerals had sailed from the West to Orsa and was headed to the smithies of the city for crafting. Kouken personally bought from a man whose smithy was in the port, and who was responsible for the city�s harpoons, and other sea-tools. The man had become notorious for his work on weapons, and was given a job to supply the seamen with reliable tools for the Ocean. Kouken, however, kept the man in business as far as land weapons go; he was a personal friend of Kouken, and would specially craft for him before anyone else. It was at this man�s garage where Kouken stood now.
�Well hello, old friend!�
�Gibli, it has certainly been a while, hasn�t it!�
�Indeed, it has! And having it been a while, what now brings you to my smithy?�
�Hahaha, always with business, you are, Gibli. That�s why I always said you were always better financially. Anyway, to answer your question, I�ve noticed a couple days ago at the port inventory that a hefty share of fortus has made its way into Orsa. Well, I need a favor of you, Gibli.�
�A favor� those are famous last words, Kouken. Especially from you.�
�Yes, yes, I know, but hopefully this current scenario will play itself out to be better than my past. I�m sure your aware of the current issue Orsa has at hand right now, with the homeless?� Gibli nodded. �Well they�re here to do some damage. I don�t know where, or when, or to what exactly, but the way things unraveled themselves, I just don�t like it. I don�t trust �em��
Gibli wore somewhat of a serious expression. �They�ve been in our city for weeks, now, Kouken. Wouldn�t they�ve already attacked if that were what they were here for? Perhaps their city was finally confronted and beaten in battle, and these are refugees?� Despite his suggesting it, Gibli was well aware that the North hadn�t been attacked, nor lost a battle. In fact, Gibli�s fright for the homeless was reignited by Kouken�s concern for them.
�You�re too smart to be thinking that. I don�t know why they haven�t attacked, though. It just doesn�t make sense. But I�m not here to debate why the North finally came down to play. My sword, the one from Shiini, it�s reaching its final days, and I don�t have the time, nor the money to visit Shiini again for a reforging. You�re the next best thing.� At this both Kouken and Gibli laughed, and Gibli agreed to forge a sword for him. The port had had a quiet month, so Gibli was facing little work repairing and replacing old tools. Kouken�s sword was said to be made within the next couple days.
After attending to business between weapons and city issues, and visiting with an old friend, Kouken walked to Market Square, to pick up his meal for the night. He was not married, nor did he have a significant other, so Kouken was responsible for his own errands.
Market Square was busy as always. People rushed throughout the busy streets like ants, occasionally bumping into each other. Sellers were yelling from their stands for buyers, while those who owned buildings had large signs painted overhead to attract customers. Kouken walked into an older building, right in the center of Market Square. The inside was cool and dark, and reeked of meat. It was a butcher. He went across the wood floors (stained with animal blood) and up to the lady behind a counter.
�Lamb chops, please. Two pounds.� The lady looked at him with a nervous eye and said �Right away,� before walking to the back. Moments later she returned with a fearful expression on her face.
�I�m terribly sorry, Mr. Kouken, but� but we haven�t received our shipment of lamb today from the farm. It� It usually comes before dawn, but the sheppard never came.� She looked as if Kouken was going to kill her. This was how he was usually treated, actually. This or like a maniac, who should be locked up.
�The farmer never came, huh,� was the gruff response. �Well I was really looking forward to lamb tonight, so I think I�m going to pay this sheppard a visit. Tell me, what farm is his?� The lady wrote something onto a piece of paper and handed it to Kouken. He looked down to see directions to his farm. According to the paper, it was the last farm to the East, just off the woods to the South. Kouken bid the lady farewell and walked out; the doorbell ringing from his absence.
The walk to the farmlands seemed a lot longer than it really was. Kouken�s mind was occupied with the reason of the sheppard�s nonappearance. Now that he thought of it, he had only seen a few homeless souls wandering the streets today, and was beginning to get concerned. Had they already attacked without him knowing it? It was a perfect plan, they started the furthest from the city, in the farms; the furthest from help. Kouken was running at this point, maneuvering through the villagers and their belongings. The sun was beating high overhead, and was already making its was back down for the night. He imagined there were only a couple hours of daylight left.
As Kouken made his way closer to the farmlands, he noticed a severe rise in the count of homeless. They were all facing the East, and slowly making their way in the same direction Kouken was. He looked down as he ran. There were only four daggers in his belt, and no sword for defense. It had only been that morning that he asked Gibli for a new sword. None of the homeless, however, were paying any attention to him. They remained with their faces to the West, even as he ran past them.
Kouken finally made it to the farmlands, and was already bolting down the road to the end of town. The homeless were traveling slowly, and they were growing thinner and thinner in numbers. When he reached the missing sheppard�s house, Kouken saw a carriage outside, ready for departure. He assumed that was the sheppard�s, and hadn�t been attended since early this morning.
Without knocking, he rushed into the door, pushing it aside to see two people: the sheppard, standing over his wife, who was lying on the table; legs spread apart.
�I� You�re, you�re alive, thank God.� The sheppard turned around with a severe expression on his face.
�My wife is in labor!� The sheppard yelled. �We�re having a baby!� Then it had hit Kouken: they weren�t in danger, nor had they already suffered an attack. The Sheppard missed work today for his wife�s labor. But all the experience of wars and politics hadn�t prepared Kouken for this.
He ran across the room to the table the sheppard�s wife lied on. She was moaning and screaming, occasionally kicking, and the sheppard was at a loss to know what to do. The best Kouken could do is stand and look at the scenario before him. What could he do? Should he tell her to stop kicking, or to breathe slower? Maybe he should have a blanket ready for when the baby comes. Then like a wave pulling back into the ocean, his worries about the baby had left him. Kouken spun around to the doorway, and a rush of horror overcame him.
Two wizards, heavily cloaked in black were standing in the room. One didn�t seem to have legs, and walked with two crutches protruding from the sleeves of his arms. His whole head was hidden behind a large hat, which faced the floor. The second wizard had only one crutch, and both legs, and was slightly smaller. It was he that raised his hand to the Sheppard�s wife.
She screamed louder than before, clearly in a horrible agony as she flailed across the table. Then her stomach ripped apart, almost exploding in the process, and her baby slowly rose, in midair, about two feet above the womb. The baby�s mother was dead.
�AARRGGHH! You monsters! You killed her! You killed my wife!� The sheppard yelled, and immediately ran blindly at the wizards. But he was too fast, and Kouken didn�t have time to respond. The sheppard had fell to the floor in front of him, dead as his wife, with blood dripping from his empty eyes and mouth.
Kouken was alone with two wizards: two of the most powerful and feared creatures in history. The baby, still hovering above the womb was crying, and was apparently the reason for the wizards� arrival.
�You will not harm this baby,� Kouken slowly said.
�You will not stop us,� replied the legged wizard, and with that raised his hand at Kouken. Kouken felt a tight grip on his face, and was immediately tossed effortlessly through the air by magic, to the closed door behind the wizards. They walked forward to the screaming baby. Kouken was slow to get up, but while he did, he fastened his grip around a dagger on his side, and let it fly through the air to the back of the smaller wizard. Before it pierced the cloak, the dagger flew to the left, as if a huge gust of wind had blown it off course. The wizard was magically protected, even from the back.
�Damnit!� Kouken yelled. Both wizards turned around. The smaller one raised his free hand at Kouken. He was raised off the ground by what seemed to be an invisible hand choking his neck. He couldn�t breathe, and his legs were flailing. The room grew blurry as Kouken�s hand made his way to another dagger. He lifted it with a burst of strength and hurled it towards his opponent. The dagger was aimed below his body, and made its way into the crutch he was leaning on. The wizard lost his support, and leaned into the wall, then slid to the floor. Kouken fell to the ground, gasping for air. This was his only chance at rescuing the baby. He had to do something before the wizard got back up. But there was still one more, and the room was spinning...
Kouken jumped to his feet with a rush overwhelming his mind, and pulled a dagger from his belt and whipped it at a crutch supporting the taller wizard. The dagger didn�t make it halfway across the room before it veered upward and pierced the ceiling. Kouken was still running. Then he jumped, grabbed onto the dagger in the ceiling and threw his final dagger to the wizard�s crutch. The dagger flew to the side immediately after leaving his hand, and landed by the wall. But Kouken�s last move was already in progress when the dagger fell. His feet were firmly planted together and were inches from the wizard�s face: Kouken had caught the wizard before he had time to recover.
He had planned to strike into his face at this very moment, but his feet kept going. The wizard, in a last effort to remain untouched disappeared, and was still reappearing by the time Kouken had landed, and grabbed the baby. When both wizards were on their feet again, both Kouken and the baby were gone.
Day and night were battling for custody over the world, as the sun was low in the West, and the moon just above the valleys to the North. Orsa was quiet. Most villagers had already returned home for the night, and the others were just now closing up to go home. Within the next hour only stray dogs and now vigilant wizards walked the streets.
Kouken had run south to the woods below the farmlands, and was watching the wizards from afar. His head was pounding and he couldn�t escape his light-headedness. The two wizards he fought emerged from the house some time after Kouken had escaped, and others came from the city to meet them. There was some discussion, too low and far for Kouken to hear. He looked down at the baby. It wasn�t awake, yet still breathing. It possibly needed help, and neither Kouken nor the baby were safe to return to the village to see a doctor. He looked back up at the gathering. The group was smaller than before; some must have left in search for him. Shortly after, the rest of the group dissolved, and spread throughout the area. Three wizards were heading in his direction, almost staring at the exact spot he and the baby hid.
A rush of warm air pushed against his face as Kouken ran, with the baby close to his chest. They maneuvered throughout trees and bushes, hedges and rocks, and Kouken tried to run as directly south as possible. He turned his head back, and could see the light from the moon piercing the canopy and hitting the forest floor. He could also see light from the farmlands, and the silhouettes of the three wizards searching the entrance to the woods.
His foot caught something, and before he knew it, he was rushing down, face-first with the baby in front of him. Kouken�s free arm reached into the ground and barely provided enough support to quietly hit the ground, with no damage to the baby.
�Oh my goodness,� he whispered to the baby. Then he turned onto his back, and lied on the ground, looking into the trees. He was too dizzy to get back up. His body was older than it used to be, and he couldn�t handle being choked as well as in the past. Maybe he was cursed; under a spell. But the smaller wizard had fallen to the ground, and prior to that, was already attacking him. There wasn�t any time to curse Kouken.
The taller wizard! But, he hadn�t moved a muscle. Was he really that powerful in magic to cast without saying anything, or moving a single finger? Kouken�s head ached too much to think, and he wanted to close his eyes more than anything.
Sleep it off, Kouken, that�s all you need. But his eyes remained open.
I can�t close them, I�m cursed. I�ll fall asleep; they�ll find me and this damn baby. He breathed in deep. Slowly and deep. His hand rose from the cool ground to his hot face, then into his dirty hair. He rubbed his temples. He heard the wizards. They were close. But he didn�t get up. He couldn�t get up. He lied and listened. The dead leaves occasionally crumbled off in the distance, and a trig would snap under the weight of someone�s body. It was getting closer. Kouken focused his eyes back into view, and look at his surroundings. He had fallen into a ditch, and his foot was still next to the root he had tripped over. The owner of the root was only a couple feet away, growing as tall as any of the trees around him. Bushes and weeds were almost everywhere, as well as patches of dirt. His head had almost fallen on a rock just to the right of him when he fell.
Snap! They had to be within twenty feet of him now. Kouken lifted his head off the ground to see above the ditch. A bush was to the left, and farther back, he could make out the tops of two wizards. Where was the third one? Kouken looked around. Nowhere. It may�ve gone some other way. Yes, that�s it. His head fell to the dirt, and he curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible.
Crunch! Ten feet. He couldn�t lie there. He had to do something. His eyes went in and out of focus. The blurred tree spun to the left of him, and took the place of the bush, which spun so far left it has disappeared from vision. His head kept turning. He was looking at dirt now. Dirt, and a rock.
That�s it! His hand grasped the rock firmly, and he swung his arm over him. Somewhere to the left of his body he heard it land, a good while away. This was followed by the snaps and crunches of the twigs and leaves between the wizards and the rock. Kouken�s head was killing him. And his eyes couldn�t remain open. Hours seemed to pass, and slowly the sounds of visitors left the area. But he remained in that very spot for most of the night, where darkness eventually overcame him, and he fell deeply into sleep.