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#1  To Liberate A Kingdom. Story This is a story I've been working on for a while now and I think I've ironed out most of the wrinkles but one can never be sure! I'd really appreciate it if you guys could take the time out to read it and point out any spelling mistakes anything I haven't described enough or anything that doesn't make sense You can post it here or PM me it's your choice. Bear in mind that some things are kept in the dark for plot reasons and more light might be shed on that topic later but tell me anyway so I can say wether it is plot related or if it is a genuine mistake My posts will be irregular cause I dont get to the internet often but please, bear with me! It'll get on the net sooner or later I promise And I believe that is it! On with the story! [size="3"][SIZE=1Prologue – Lyla[i][U Location – Valendria – Vallen. Time – 3:04AM, July 14th, year 2504 The girl paced the large room. She paced in circles of three steps wide. One. Two. Three. Turn. One. Two. Three. Turn…. The girl had long brown hair that was tinted silver in the moonlight that escaped from the large bay window. She had a kind face with delicate features, but she was no doll to be coveted. There was a slight hardness within her clear blue eyes. She wore a necklace of bronze that had four ‘arms’. Two came from the front in diagonals to hold up the front of her white top, while the other two held up the back. She also wore a pair of brilliant green shorts with yellow belts and her shoes were open tops, which were tied with black lace that continued up her legs to be tied in a small bow just below her petite knees. The room, as afore said, was large. The bay window was opposite a medium sized wooden door that was inlaid with some kind of alloy, possibly steel, in a spiral design. The rest of the room was donated to rows and rows of bookshelves – but strangely – not one obscured the path to the window. The window itself was nothing remarkable. Just a place where one could read a book in relative comfort, as it had a wooden seat that encircled the bottom rim of the window. One of the walls near the window was strangely ornamented with twin iron swords and an aluminium bow inlaid with bronze and silver. The metal gleamed brightly in the light of the moonbeams. ‘Sorry I’m late Ly.’ A voice called from the doorway. ‘Things were quite busy today, weren’t they?’ The girl turned around and a look of relief spread across her face, quickly followed by a smile that lit up her whole face. That smile quite literally vanquished the darkness that had previously haunted her eyes. The boy who stood in the now open doorway was youthful – younger than the girl who had been named Ly. Ly did not look all that old, she couldn’t have been more than nineteen, but she was obviously the eldest even though the boy was almost as tall as her. The boy had shortly cropped brown hair. He had similar features to Ly, which suggested that they were related somehow. He wore a simple blue blouse and loose grey trousers that’s ends were tucked into his beige boots. His hands were speckled with ink, like how a duck’s egg is. ‘I’m glad you were able to make it, Nedane.’ ‘So am I.’ He ruffled the back of his hair with a weary sigh, closing his eyes. ‘Those court officials just had to find some hole in the peace treaty, didn’t they? That’s why it’s taken me to…’ He opened his eyes and looked at Ly. ‘What time is it again?’ Ly looked at the small timepiece on her wrist. She glossed over the fact that she had been looking at it almost constantly for the past hour or so. ‘Just gone three A.M.’ Nedane swore. Ly winced. ‘Brother, is there any need for that language?’ ‘Of course not, Lyla.’ Nedane said sweetly, ‘but it is the nicest thing that I can say.’ Ly laughed and threw her hands up in surrender. Trying to beat her brother with words was nigh impossible, so why puff yourself blue in the face? Lyla and her two-year younger brother were the co-rulers of their country – Valendria. During the war several years previous, both their father and elder brother died in battle. Now, years on, the two of them were working towards a peace treaty, and thus prevent any further wars between the two countries. The assailing country was named Tycotle. Nedane looked around, as if looking for a clue. ‘So… why have you brought me here, Ly?’ he questioned. In response, Ly only took a deep breath, and after a few seconds she let it out again. After a long pause she began to speak but thought better of her words and replaced them before continuing. ‘Why don’t you come sit down?’ she gestured at the bay window. Nedane walked over and sat down. He looked expectantly at his sister. Again, she sighed. She walked over to her brother and crouched down so that their eyes were on the same level. ‘Y’know that I went to see the town Healer the other day, right?’ Her brother nodded mutely. ‘Well, she told me… she told me that I have a brain tumour, and…’ she tried to continue but Nedane cut across her, talking rapidly in his apprehension. ‘They can be fatal, can’t they? But they were able to help you, right? You’ll be okay, won’t you?’ Nedane’s face took on a despairing look as Lyla shook her head and looked her brother straight in the eyes, perhaps it was a trick of the light – twilight, actually – but it seemed that her eyes were slightly glassy. 'No, brother, they did not. They told me that I had forty-eight hours left to live. If that.’ Nedane stared at his sister in horror as the reality of the situation sank in. ‘No… That can’t be…’ Lyla smiled at her brother and commanded in a teasing tone of voice: ‘Now just a few things brother mine, one: I don’t want to be cremated. Two: I don’t want a fancy funeral.’ She waved her hand negligently. ‘Parade me round the streets if you wish, but nothing exotic. Three: my Will is in my top drawer, you can’t miss it.’ Her eyes softened, ‘and I want you to have this.’ She put a small object in his palm and closed his fingers about it. He opened his hand to reveal his sisters ring. It was a plain band of platinum with a rose quartz star in the middle. Many years before, it had been their mother’s wedding ring. ‘Now, no funny stuff once I’m gone you hear?!’ She taunted him. ‘No jumping off cliffs or walking into rivers! If our family should fail, the tentative peace we have made will be shattered quicker than glass and the Tycotans will not hesitate in taking Valendria. You know this as well as I do.’ Lyla stood up and sat down again next to her brother. She rested her head against his and closed her eyes. ‘Do not fail me Nedane…’ And quietly, she died. EDIT, Oh come on! It's not that bad, is it? Last edited by dragontamer; 08-24-2007 at 07:20 PM. |
07-31-2007, 01:10 PM
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| | Eh? well, simply? No. Ah well, thanks for pointing that out Oh, one other thing i forgot to mention - most of my character's names are japanese (with a few exceptions) so the pronounciation can be annoyingly strange and abnormal. Location – Tycotle – Tyrander. Time – 5:25AM, June 30th , year 2505. He stood in a long hall. Hall was not the right word. Cathedral was more of a better one. The walls were pale lavender and they reached so high that even the brightest of days could not illuminate the ceiling, which was forever lost in shadow. It was as if something was up there that had a permanent fear of light, so it cloaked itself in a darkness that extended many meters. The windows that lined the walls at regular intervals were large and let in a steady stream of moonlight. The moonlight lit up very few things, but it seemed to pick out tiny, unnecessary and unrelated details. Or at least, that’s what the young man thought. But were they unnecessary? One of the things that the moon’s delicate fingers chose to show was a woman at the far end of the cathedral. She stood stiller than a statue, stiller than death itself. Although the young man could see her figure, he could not make out any distinguishing features. But even though he could not see her, he knew exactly who she was and his heart did a little leap in his joy. With a wide smile, he called out her name. She seemed to hear him but she didn’t turn around; she was listening for a clue to tell if the speaker was friend or foe. The boy shouted to her again and she either realised that if he was an enemy, he would of killed he by now or she had recognised his voice. Whichever one it was, she started to turn round, but suddenly… Negai awoke with a start. He was panting as if he had just raced in a marathon and he was drenched with cold sweat. His heart was beating so fast he feared that it might burst. After he had calmed down, Negai carefully listened to tell if the two other inhabitants of the room had woken up at the small cry he had emitted when he woke up, as he had several times that month already. When he had come to the conclusion that he had not, he sighed with relief and walked to the small window that overlooked the narrow, cobble stoned street below to await the coming of the dawn. The sky was already tinted a pale pink so he knew that it wasn’t far off. He leant against the windowpane and watched the sunrise over the ghost city of Tyrander, capitol of the Tycotan nation. The three teenagers stood in front of a notice board in a busy shopping street. ‘Get your newspapers whilst you still can! Today’s article is…’ ‘Fresh fruit and veg! Get the best fruit in the land…’ ‘Exotic spices from across the sea! Only available here…’ The merchants battled each other hoarse while they hawked their wares to attract customers. It was a miracle in itself that anyone could think, let alone speak. But that was exactly what the three teenagers were doing. The one in the middle was Negai. He was fairly young. He seemed to be around seventeen. He wore an aqua coloured muscle top, which was hemmed at the bottom with yellow. His trousers were long and a dark purple colour. He must have found the ends annoying for some reason, as he had used a leather throng and wrapped it around his leg and trousers. Perhaps the trousers were a little too long. He had shoulder length brown hair and kind, blue eyes. At first glance, many mistook him for a girl as he had a slightly feminine face, but a second glance rectified that mistake. Those who looked into his kind, gentle eyes could tell that he had seen too much for a boy of his age. He also had a bow and quiver slung onto his back. The boy to Negai’s right was called Kusabana. He had hair that was a brighter red than anything anyone had ever seen before in their lives, so they could not compare it to anything. This made it awfully hard to describe to others. He wore a bright orange T-shirt that was decorated with several hibiscus flowers on the sleeves, the hem and a big one in the middle. They were all a yellow-gold colour. His shorts were powder blue with a grass pattern at the bottom, just above the knees. There was a palm tree design stitched underneath his right pocket. He had a thin short-sword sheathed on his left hip. His boots were a plain green colour with purple stripes that ended at about mid-calf. Kusabana’s eyes were a bright, lively green. To the left of Negai was a girl. Her name was Melixca. She was obviously the youngest; she was only sixteen years of age. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail that was secured with a pink bow. Her skin tanned; much more so than that of her two friends, but that did not mean that she spent more time in the sun – actually, it was far from the truth. Her mother had come from the nameless lands across the sea were the climate was far hotter, and they had olive skin anyway. Melixca was born in the Tycotle capital, meaning that her nationality was Tycotan – just like Kusabana. Melixca was wearing a sleeveless pink tunic style top. It was not as long as most tunics, it just looked as if the top was slightly too large for her, as if it were meant for her to grow into. She also had on a pair of beige three-quarter length trousers and flip-flops. How she could walk in those is beyond me. Her weapon of choice was a wooden magical staff that had a carved claw at the top that held a priceless shaped and polished sapphire. Melixca was whispering fiercely at Negai. ‘This is madness, Negai! Please, forget this idea of yours and lets go home. The lieutenant isn’t going to let you waltz in, you know!’ She was furious and was not even bothered to hide that fact. ‘Melixca…’ ‘No, Kusabana.’ She shook her head; her blonde hair fell from one side to the other. ‘You listen to me for once. You know what will happen if our dear friend lieutenant Mathews finds out about this, he’s hated Negai since the day he set eyes on him. All because he’s Valendrian!!’ She didn’t even try to hide her sarcasm. ‘Melixca…’ Kusabana tried again, but this time Negai intervened. He had been quiet until now, hoping that Melixca would run out of steam, but she had grown bolder with every word she spoke. He spoke in a quiet but firm voice that clearly told her who was dictating the way things were. ‘I know it’s dangerous, Mel, but you must trust me. I know the consequences and I’m willing to risk it. The things he confiscated – though stole is a better word – are worth it.’ Kusabana looked at him with a puzzled look in his eyes. But a moment later, they cleared and he smiled, saying: ‘Something in the bag he stole were personal, right?’ Negai nodded. ‘And that thing was the last thing you had to remember your family with, yes?’ Again, Negai nodded. ‘Then it’s settled.’ He gazed unflinchingly at Melixca. ‘What would you do, what extremes would you go to, if someone stole your family photo album? The only thing you have left of your brother and your parents?’ Kusabana knew immediately that he had struck too close too the bone. Melixca’s father had died only a year ago and the wound that was her memory of him and the tales he told her of her mother and brother were still healing. But at least there was a faint understanding in her eyes now, but when she spoke, her tone was frosty. ‘Fine! Go and get yourself killed! See what I care!’ With that last remark she stormed off, pushing customers and merchants alike out of her way. Negai watched her quickly retreating back sadly. ‘I was hoping that she of all people would understand.’ Negai and Kusabana watched Melixca until the last strand of her blonde hair disappeared from sight and then with a united sigh, they both got back to work with preparations and various daily errands that needed attending to. Without Melixca, things would take longer and they would be harder to complete as she was better at manipulating people to her own ends, but they would have to do as best they could without her. Lieutenant Mathews sat at his desk. On his desk was a small open rucksack. Mathews was a scrawny middle-aged man, on the wrong side of forty, but he looked older. His hair was grey and it was getting thinner by the day. Even in his own house he felt the need to be encased in steel. Old needs and old prejudices ran thick in his blood. That was why he confiscated that street rat’s belongings. It was out of pure spite and malice more than any problem the boy had caused. Most of the children in that day and age were orphans and they never knew where they would be sleeping from one day to the next. So usually they would band together in small gangs for safety and they would carry all of their worldly belongings with them at all times. The boy had obviously been Valendrian. Only the Valendrians would fight with a bow. And the bow he used was of a fine craftsmanship, indeed! The lieutenant thought. Oh, how Mathews remembered how the Valendrians would come out of the trees and fire several volleys of arrows and then melt back into the trees whence they came. They had honed their inborn skill with a bow for eons, and now every arrow they shot hit their mark with blood-chilling accuracy. Mathews had been lucky to get out of those cursed forests alive. But one day, he’d show them all who was really in charge… stuff the peace treaty! It was invalid now that the Valendrian prince was missing and the elder sister dead. Both signatures were on there but still… He was sure he could persuade the regent to come around to his way of thinking. By force, if necessary. Mathews crumpled the piece of paper he was holding and with an evil smile he tossed it into the nearby fireplace. The fire accepted it with a happy cackle and fed on the paper greedily. Mathews stared into the fire as he imagined the day of his triumph. He looked down and picked up a picture that had fallen out of the street-rat’s rucksack; it depicted a young man and a slightly older woman. Behind him, out of the window, night began to fall and things were starting to fall into place in the city below… Negai and Kusabana stood at the entrance to the city slums. They had been forgotten about years ago, but they were still there. Kusabana looked at his friend in the failing light. ‘Be careful,’ he whispered ‘I’ll be waiting for you in there in around half an hour. Meanwhile, I’ll try to convince Mel to help.’ Negai clasped his friend’s arm in wordless thanks and then he turned and entered the slums below. Last edited by dragontamer; 08-24-2007 at 07:26 PM. |
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08-22-2007, 01:06 PM
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 | The problem has to do with the program he's using, I'm almost 100% sure. I've seen this occur in other places. The easiest way to get rid of the problem would just be to go into all of your posts and edit out the :p I believe the problem is that the programing of what he uses codes :p:p for a new paragraph, so when he copies and pastes, *poof* he gets tongue smilies all over his posts. |
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08-24-2007, 05:54 PM
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ect. so am i mmissing something here? have i done something wrong again?
