- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
I'll keep this short, as my head is so far gone, I fear I might start spilling secrets I shouldn't.
I'm not sure what it is I've contracted at the moment, its either a blasted summer cold, or perhaps I'm having adverse affects to the many ridiculous shots I received in the hospital. I don't know, and at the moment I'm too irritated to care.
I originally planned on simply waiting until I healed, but that's just mean, so what I'm doing is posting everything so far that I believe is 'up-to-standard' for the first chapter of the Forerunner Chronicles.
That means this is just Part 1 of the first chapter. I don't even want to consider when I'll have time to fix up the later portions of it, but because I'm a masochist I'll tell you I should be back to normal on friday or saturday.
Enjoy this small chunk, and say a kind prayer for my very sore head and throat, which are currently battling evil forces:
Glossary for foreign words follows at the end of the chapter!
The End of a War
Forerunner Chronicles
The Transient Allure of Amelioration
The forest glade of Omemin Falls was at peace along the distant shoreline that lined the border of the continent, sublime serenity playing through the cascading meadows and dense foliage, lined amidst the horizon with the grand outcropping of the Lynfold Mountains. Much of the land that adorned the planet of Ual was decorated with the same vegetation as was present within Omemin Falls, for it was a planet unmarred by intelligent life forms, seeking to harvest it‘s resources. Fyorn trees native to the planet, stretched to varying heights decorating the canopy above with a capturing display of natural beauty. A lone beaten path was all that marred the otherwise captivating scenery, and it was upon this path that the two Majal walked down. The elder of the two stood high, his height nearly twice again the size of the child that hustled beside him. A loose cloth hung from his body, the fabric giving off a faint glimmer as the light pierced through the high canopy and doused the two in radiance. His tanned skin, a deep brown that seemed to almost play off the natural bright blue tint leant to his body was hidden from the light, as the elder carried a large cloth bundle with him that kept a the greater portion of his body in the shadows. The breeze skimming through the trees leant them relief from the midday heat, which left the elder parched, while the child, being carefree as all children should be, was oblivious to his own needs as he laughed gaily while clutching the hand of the elder Majal.
Soon the Fyorn trees were left behind as they emerged from the forest and stepped onto the soft grass that now covered the open meadow. With a nervous glance at the elder Majal, and receiving the answering nod from his questioning glance, the child freed himself from the elder’s grasp and ran ahead allowing the simple robes he wore to billow in the current of wind that swept unquestioned through the open field. The elder Majal watched with adoration in his eyes as the child lost himself to the world, and with a shake of the head, he unhitched the bundle of cloth that was draped over his shoulder. Caution tinting his actions, the elder unfurled the cloth and removed an intricately designed bow, its wood a deep green with carvings of detailed fauna decorating its length. Tender were his motions as he plucked the heavy bowstring and listened for a moment as it reverberated a deep thrumming tone through the still air. Next, the Majal freed a long quiver filled with finely crafted arrows and he spilt the deadly spearheads onto the fine cloth, ensuring that none were cracked or worn. Once this task was completed, he looked out into the lush field and searched with his eyes for the small child that had been forgotten shortly. Concern doted his face and with a great breath, he cupped his heavy, calloused hands to his mouth and called the child’s name. The wind carried his voice down the meadow, for the child soon appeared waving with abandon and running still, having not tired an ounce despite his hurry to go wherever his feet may have taken him.
The elder Majal waited primly as the child neared, taking sight of the ancient weapon set upon the cloth and slowing his pace as a wave of apprehension seemed to grip his small frame.
“Father are you sure that I am ready to undertake this training? I overheard some of the others in my class say that their fathers are adamant that they must prove their admittance amongst the Kyl’shi(1) before they are even granted the right to gaze upon the family Gail(2),” the child spoke, worrying his hands nervously as he stared at the ancient bow and arrows as if they were touched by a holy spirit, and if he were to draw too close they would be tainted forever. The elder Majal watched his child as he drew a long breath that left him in a rush whilst he smiled at the everlasting gentle spirit the child possessed.
“You worry too much Absolon, surely you do not think that I would be so foolish as to prepare this ceremony without thinking you were ready? Do you think so little of your father?” the elder Majal asked.
“Certainly not father,” Absolon said urgently as he moved forward and grasped his father’s hands. “You have always taught me well, and I love you for it. If not for your guidance and care, I believe I would have not nearly so good a life as I have now. Since you have such confidence in me, I shall do all I can to not disappoint you!”
The earnest look in the child’s eyes stilled the laughter that brewed within the elder, for he knew it would crush Absolon’s spirit. The look of determination that overflowed from the child amused and touched the elder greatly; he nodded his head deeply at the child, and began to carry through the steps of the ceremony.
Reverence flowed from the elder’s movements as he brought the ancient bow into his left hand and removed a long, slender arrow from the quiver. Sighting a Fyorn tree near the opposite end of the meadow, the elder placed with blunt end of the arrow against the taut bowstring, and pulled back as his body tensed. He kept his stance rigid as his arms were horizontally aligned, and with his body sighted, he slowly relaxed his draw hand. With a flourish of sound, the arrow was released, and it swept across the open plain where it quite soundly impaled itself into the Fyorn tree. The elder worked hard to keep a smile from his face, for he had been greatly worried that the wind would cause him to overshoot his target.
Beside him, Absolon could not keep the awe from his eyes as he realized that his father had indeed hit his target. When his father’s eyes turned to watch him, the awe melted away and was replaced by fear, as he realized it was now his turn to receive the weapon, and then make his shot.
“Do not choose a target too far away,” his father warned as the bow was passed. Absolon glanced fearfully around him until he sighted a tree that looked as if it were within his range. Setting his angular jaw, the child mimicked his father’s preparations and released the notched arrow. Unlike his father however, Absolon’s arrow faltered only fifty feet away from its target and slammed into the ground. The child watched in shock, whimpering slightly over his failure when he felt a feather touch on his shoulder.
“That was a very good shot,” the elder said approvingly.
“But father, I did not hit my target,” Absolon exclaimed. “You put your faith in me and I have failed.”
“My child, have you ever held a weapon like this before?” the elder asked, and the boy miserably shook his head. “Then how could I expect you to not fail on your first attempt?”
Without waiting for Absolon’s response, the elder continued, kneeling down beside the child and staring into his eyes.
“When I was only several seasons older than you, my father took me to this very glade and he took me through the steps of the transferring the Gail. Back then the Fyorn were not as tall, but he still struck his target with assurance. I had been overwrought with fear, and when I first took this bow,” the elder said grasping the ancient weapon tightly, “I was unable to balance the weight and dropped it. When I finally learned how to hold it properly, I attempted to fire an arrow at a target much closer then that which you have chosen, and I missed my target by quite a large margin. Much like you, I thought that I had disappointed my father, and when I glanced at him he was staring at me with his hard eyes, betraying no emotion. My first instinct was to weep, and to throw down the Gail with force and flee, but I stayed since I did not wish further shame on my father. Therefore, I took up the bow once more, and attempted to launch another arrow. I missed again, but my arrow went further than before, and when I glanced at my father, I could see an expression of joy behind his impartial face. With every shot I took, his look of concentration was replaced by one of happiness, for he did not care that I had missed. His only concern was that I did not give up, and show determination.”
Absolon looked on with his gentle countenance, his eyes b-blam!- with unshed tears over his father’s soft tone and loving gaze. Nodding to his beloved father, the young Majal set his face in a grim look of resolution and took the family Gail in his hands again.
“You will watch me then, father?” he asked.
“Yes my child,” the elder responded, and added in a tone too soft for Absolon to hear, “I will watch you until the very end.”
Therefore, time passed.
[Edited on 5/17/2006]