Joined: 09 Dec 2007
Location: Lost in the land of if.... Seriously, someone get me a map.
|Posted: Thu Oct 29, 2009 6:52 pm Post subject: Short Story
|I wrote this story using a picture drawn by the guy who sits behind me in math, and characters my friends and I based off of us.
Priestess Aryl turned to stare down at the village. She lived in the house on top of the hill, and could see all the villagers from her vantage point. There was little Mary, who was getting her first tooth, Old Agnes, who’d just lost her husband last spring, even Thomas was out, if only to follow Mary around. She could see the visitors too.
Four very strange people had passed into their town and decided to stay for a day or two. They were all mercenaries now, but they weren’t always. Rumor said that two- the redhead and the one with black hair- had posed as knights. The one with blonde-brunette hair that reached her shoulders was a wood witch, and the last, with a head of hair that held every shade of blond that could be thought up, was ‘unknown’.
Aryl recognized her, though when they’d met the girl had been a mere toddler, barely above infancy. Being an elf, Aryl had been a young adult then, and still was, compared to the human. Aryl smiled softly. Even if the girl had been able to remember meeting Aryl, she wouldn’t be able to tell who she was now.
The breeze blew a few strands of Aryls hair out of her face. Hair that was a normal brunette color. Was now, anyway. Every time Aryl looked in the mirror, she remembered the shade of blonde she’d been so proud of, nearly white. The tips of her ears poke out of her hair as it blew around her.
Aryl wore a simple gown, in a bland color with a monochromatic scheme, using the trim. She dressed like a priestess, and attempted to keep notice away from her. Her shoes were a wrap-around kind, her only sign of the abnormal. Then there was her staff. A long thing, it was nearly her height. The end looked like the tip of a candle, though larger, and was the power source for her staff, letting it float. Two rings floated around the staff just below this, never touching it, never touching each other.
Aryl turned and walked into her home, and began to prepare for the ritual that would send Old Agnes husband off to the afterlife in peace. A shadow stepped into the doorway. Aryl, ever braced for what she believed was coming, glanced up. All she saw was a suit of armor, but she knew that the one who stood within it was from the same kingdom she had once hailed from.
“ Princess Aryl, it’s time to return home. You’ve run away long enough.”
Aryl turned to face him, and opened her mouth to respond. She saw a second shadow flicker on the floor behind him, and then watched as a hand darted underneath the helmet and the finger pressed deftly to the neck. The man in armor crumpled to the floor, and behind where he had stood was the stranger she’d once met. Smiling, this visitor tilted her head, and glanced over at Aryl.
“It seems to me we share a secret. C’mon, it’s time to run.”
“Princess Adeola. . .”
“Aryl, let’s go.”
Aryl nodded, smiling softly, and turned to walk out with Adeola. The group of strange female mercenaries had a fifth member.