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TOPIC | [LORE HUB] The Land of Elden [LUB™]
Bruh!!! This is all so beautiful, i love it!
Bruh!!! This is all so beautiful, i love it!
did you know that president jimmy carter was attacked by a swamp rabbit?
@ColdestNeptune
Thank you so much! I appreciate it a lot
Thank you so much! I appreciate it a lot
@ColdestNeptune
Thank you so much! I appreciate it a lot
Thank you so much! I appreciate it a lot
THE MESSENGER OF DEATH
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
“You can’t go!” she pleaded, “You cannot!”
She turned to the door. “You won’t take my husband! Null, stay here, don’t let them take you!”
“My dearest Eloquence..” Null sighed. “Please, do not take your anger out on this poor man. It is my time, you musn’t hold me back.”
Eloquence cried out. She was weeping now, her face covered in tears. Her heart was aching and she could not explain why. She knew his time to serve would come - all those who turn twenty-one years of age are to serve in the army for at least five years. His birthday was only five days ago, and only five days ago they were celebrating together. Eloquence knew something was wrong with his eyes, but she could not understand what it was, for Null would not tell her. Null stepped forward to the door, taking control of the conversation. Eloquence suddenly began to feel dizzy, and she carefully made her way to the nearest chair.
“Thank you,” Null said to the messenger. “I will make haste for the castle on the wake of the morrow.”
The messenger lifted his cap and walked away, continuing on with his work. Null slowly closed the door behind the messenger. The door creaked agonizingly loudly - it had not been oiled in some time. Eloquence continued to wail hauntingly. Her cries echoed through the house.
“Eloquence, my dear..” Null said, gently. Eloquence’s head tilted upwards ever so slowly, her eyes meeting with Null’s in the middle. Her under-eyes were already puffy and her beady eyes had turned deeply bloodshot.
“Please, do not cry.” Null spoke softly, not to upset her by yelling. “You will not be hurt, neither will I. When I return, we can finally begin our family, we can finally raise our children. Soon, my dear, soon.”
“But what if you don’t come back?” Eloquence whimpered. Just the thought of his doom caused her to cry, yet again.
“Now, now, my dear. I will come home. We will see each other once more, I promise it.”
For a moment, there was silence. Both Null and Eloquence stared each other in the eye for just a moment, before Eloquence said, “You promise?”
“I promise.” Null responded without hesitation. He looked into her beautiful, big pink eyes, and she stared back into his strong, loving green eyes. They embraced for a moment, and they shared a single kiss. She met him the next morning too, just the moment before they left. They kissed one last time, and he was off for the castle.
--
Several weeks passed. Eloquence’s indelible anxiety had held strong, never wavering even once.
Knock knock.
Eloquence’s large eyes lit up with glee. She dropped everything she was doing and ran for the door. She readied herself for a great embrace with her husband, whom had promised to return from the army in what felt like an age ago. She opened the door and quickly embraced the man standing there.
“Pardon me, were you expecting someone?” asked a familiar voice.
Eloquence looked up, and her eyes met with the man. It was a messenger. Not the same one who had delivered the awful message to Null, but the other messenger - the one who usually made his rounds around the area Eloquence lived in.
Eloquence quickly ended the embrace. She brushed off her dress and stared at the ground for a moment. In what felt like an unending silence - it was only a few seconds - she looked back up at him. “My apologies.” she said.
“I’ve a message for you,” said the messenger, ignoring the previous situation. “From your husband.”
Eloquence quickly snatched the message from his hands. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” Eloquence stated, before shutting the door and not letting him get another word. She hurriedly made way for the nearest candle. She placed the message underneath it.
It was a simple loveletter for her, mixed with a hint of sadness. She would be unable to send messages back to him, as the castle would seize them. The belief was that, had they held a bond to each other, soldiers would not be as brave on the battlefield, as they would want to survive to see their families again rather than die on the battlefield in the name of the kingdom. Sending messages to loved ones was also strictly forbidden and would result in punishment - Null would have to sneak the letters out.
--
Months passed. Letters would remain the primary source of communication between the two despite how one sided it was. Eloquence had saved all the letters she’d been given in a locked drawer.
Suddenly, letters stopped coming in.
--
Noise could be heard from outside. Several months had passed since the last telegraph, and Eloquence had become incredibly anxious. Every time she heard the slightest sound from outside, she would run to the window to see what was outside. Usually, it was nothing.
This time, it was something.
A small group of people had gathered outside of her home, all dressed in black. Eloquence rushed outside to greet the sudden visitors. Something stopped her dead in her tracks.
A grim-looking Null stood still, surrounded by the group. He stared at the ground, not moving. Eloquence started to run to him, but he continued to look to the ground, staring at the way the grass danced with the wind. He looked sorrowful and contemplative, but he would not say what was wrong. Eloquence, however, did not notice his wistful eyes. She continued to run to him, holding out her arms. She was right in front of him when he finally looked up. Their eyes met, and then he, quite literally, fell limply into her arms. Eloquence was knocked over by his weight. She crawled her way out from under him, and that was when she noticed it.
It.
A knife had been placed deeply into his back. The group surrounding him came closer and closer, but Eloquence did not notice. She stared at the knife numbly, looking at every detail of it.
“It’s in his back,” she whispered.
“Why is it in his back?” she asked quietly.
She turned her head up, and screamed, “Why is it in his back?!”
A figure stepped forward. He lifted his head, and sighed. It was the messenger. The one who had delivered the first, awful message.
“I’ve one last message to deliver to you,” the messenger said.
“Your husband had been found sending out letters to loved ones. This is strictly against our law.”
Eloquence stared at him dead in the eye. “So, you killed him.”
“His punishment was to be killed. It was the king’s wish.” the messenger said.
Eloquence struggled to find the words to say, and so, she instead let out all of her emotions at once in a fit of rage.
“That tyrant!” she screamed. The group began to disperse. The messenger turned around.
“And you…” Eloquence pointed at the messenger.
“What is your name?” she asked. She was seething with rage, but the scariest part was how calm her voice sounded.
“My name? I am the messenger of death, Horatio.”
THE MESSENGER OF DEATH
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
“You can’t go!” she pleaded, “You cannot!”
She turned to the door. “You won’t take my husband! Null, stay here, don’t let them take you!”
“My dearest Eloquence..” Null sighed. “Please, do not take your anger out on this poor man. It is my time, you musn’t hold me back.”
Eloquence cried out. She was weeping now, her face covered in tears. Her heart was aching and she could not explain why. She knew his time to serve would come - all those who turn twenty-one years of age are to serve in the army for at least five years. His birthday was only five days ago, and only five days ago they were celebrating together. Eloquence knew something was wrong with his eyes, but she could not understand what it was, for Null would not tell her. Null stepped forward to the door, taking control of the conversation. Eloquence suddenly began to feel dizzy, and she carefully made her way to the nearest chair.
“Thank you,” Null said to the messenger. “I will make haste for the castle on the wake of the morrow.”
The messenger lifted his cap and walked away, continuing on with his work. Null slowly closed the door behind the messenger. The door creaked agonizingly loudly - it had not been oiled in some time. Eloquence continued to wail hauntingly. Her cries echoed through the house.
“Eloquence, my dear..” Null said, gently. Eloquence’s head tilted upwards ever so slowly, her eyes meeting with Null’s in the middle. Her under-eyes were already puffy and her beady eyes had turned deeply bloodshot.
“Please, do not cry.” Null spoke softly, not to upset her by yelling. “You will not be hurt, neither will I. When I return, we can finally begin our family, we can finally raise our children. Soon, my dear, soon.”
“But what if you don’t come back?” Eloquence whimpered. Just the thought of his doom caused her to cry, yet again.
“Now, now, my dear. I will come home. We will see each other once more, I promise it.”
For a moment, there was silence. Both Null and Eloquence stared each other in the eye for just a moment, before Eloquence said, “You promise?”
“I promise.” Null responded without hesitation. He looked into her beautiful, big pink eyes, and she stared back into his strong, loving green eyes. They embraced for a moment, and they shared a single kiss. She met him the next morning too, just the moment before they left. They kissed one last time, and he was off for the castle.
--
Several weeks passed. Eloquence’s indelible anxiety had held strong, never wavering even once.
Knock knock.
Eloquence’s large eyes lit up with glee. She dropped everything she was doing and ran for the door. She readied herself for a great embrace with her husband, whom had promised to return from the army in what felt like an age ago. She opened the door and quickly embraced the man standing there.
“Pardon me, were you expecting someone?” asked a familiar voice.
Eloquence looked up, and her eyes met with the man. It was a messenger. Not the same one who had delivered the awful message to Null, but the other messenger - the one who usually made his rounds around the area Eloquence lived in.
Eloquence quickly ended the embrace. She brushed off her dress and stared at the ground for a moment. In what felt like an unending silence - it was only a few seconds - she looked back up at him. “My apologies.” she said.
“I’ve a message for you,” said the messenger, ignoring the previous situation. “From your husband.”
Eloquence quickly snatched the message from his hands. “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” Eloquence stated, before shutting the door and not letting him get another word. She hurriedly made way for the nearest candle. She placed the message underneath it.
It was a simple loveletter for her, mixed with a hint of sadness. She would be unable to send messages back to him, as the castle would seize them. The belief was that, had they held a bond to each other, soldiers would not be as brave on the battlefield, as they would want to survive to see their families again rather than die on the battlefield in the name of the kingdom. Sending messages to loved ones was also strictly forbidden and would result in punishment - Null would have to sneak the letters out.
--
Months passed. Letters would remain the primary source of communication between the two despite how one sided it was. Eloquence had saved all the letters she’d been given in a locked drawer.
Suddenly, letters stopped coming in.
--
Noise could be heard from outside. Several months had passed since the last telegraph, and Eloquence had become incredibly anxious. Every time she heard the slightest sound from outside, she would run to the window to see what was outside. Usually, it was nothing.
This time, it was something.
A small group of people had gathered outside of her home, all dressed in black. Eloquence rushed outside to greet the sudden visitors. Something stopped her dead in her tracks.
A grim-looking Null stood still, surrounded by the group. He stared at the ground, not moving. Eloquence started to run to him, but he continued to look to the ground, staring at the way the grass danced with the wind. He looked sorrowful and contemplative, but he would not say what was wrong. Eloquence, however, did not notice his wistful eyes. She continued to run to him, holding out her arms. She was right in front of him when he finally looked up. Their eyes met, and then he, quite literally, fell limply into her arms. Eloquence was knocked over by his weight. She crawled her way out from under him, and that was when she noticed it.
It.
A knife had been placed deeply into his back. The group surrounding him came closer and closer, but Eloquence did not notice. She stared at the knife numbly, looking at every detail of it.
“It’s in his back,” she whispered.
“Why is it in his back?” she asked quietly.
She turned her head up, and screamed, “Why is it in his back?!”
A figure stepped forward. He lifted his head, and sighed. It was the messenger. The one who had delivered the first, awful message.
“I’ve one last message to deliver to you,” the messenger said.
“Your husband had been found sending out letters to loved ones. This is strictly against our law.”
Eloquence stared at him dead in the eye. “So, you killed him.”
“His punishment was to be killed. It was the king’s wish.” the messenger said.
Eloquence struggled to find the words to say, and so, she instead let out all of her emotions at once in a fit of rage.
“That tyrant!” she screamed. The group began to disperse. The messenger turned around.
“And you…” Eloquence pointed at the messenger.
“What is your name?” she asked. She was seething with rage, but the scariest part was how calm her voice sounded.
“My name? I am the messenger of death, Horatio.”
A BRAND NEW SUIT
CHAPTER 10
NIHMEDU'S TALE
NIHMEDU'S TALE
“What, do you want to look like that?” Horatio said to Nihmedu. He was standing at the door, ready to go out. Horatio pointed out his clothes, of which resembled more of rags.
“Trust me, if I could afford better I would.” Nihmedu responded. He brushed off his shirt and walked out the door, saying no more. The soles of his mud-covered shoes were worn. Every footstep felt as if he was walking barefoot. His tattered shirt was covered in lint and wrinkles. His black pants were covered by mud splashes.
He stopped and turned his head. He’d noticed a sign, in beautiful bright colours, reading “MEN’S BOUTIQUE”. Nihmedu entered, hoping there could possibly be a low-priced suit. He hadn’t much money left, only a few spare coins from the bag Horatio had left him.
“Hello!” said the store clerk, with a bright smile. “Welcome to my shop!”
“Oh, hello.” Nihmedu said. He tried to avoid conversation and browsed the shop. In front of him appeared a beautiful black blazer with matching pants and a dress shirt and tie to boot. It was a perfect set, one that looked as if it’d match him perfectly. He brought the set up to the clerk, who passed the price to him.
“400 coins? But I only have 4!” Nihmedu yelled in disbelief.
“My apologies, sir. I make these suits myself and so I price them accordingly.” the clerk responded.
“I’ll just borrow it.” Nihmedu responded.
“Sorry, we don’t do loans.” the clerk responded. He placed a hand on the suit as to make sure Nihmedu wouldn’t run with it.
“Well, I need it. Give it to me.” Nihmedu said, “Give me the suit. Give it to me!”
Nihmedu began to tug on the suit but the clerk held strong. He looked as if he was about to call for guards. Nihmedu grabbed a pair of scissors sitting on the counter.
The clerk’s body slumped. A pool of blood appeared. Blood was on Nihmedu’s hands, on his clothes, and on the suit he tried to barter for. He lifted his hands and stared at them in disgust.
“What have I become?” Nihmedu asked. He quickly wiped the blood on his clothes and grabbed another suit. He ran out of the building and never looked back, not for a moment.
He got home and changed into his new suit. He tried to hastily walk out the door, but Horatio stopped him.
“Where did you get that suit from?” Horatio asked. He knew something was up, Nihmedu could not hide it.
“I scraped up some money,” Nihmedu said, “under couches and stuff. You have a lot of money around, just under chairs and carpets.” Nihmedu lied.
“You’re lying.” Horato said.
“Just don’t ask, okay? Nothing happened.” Nihmedu said. He stormed his way out and slammed the door behind him. He looked down at shoes, his dirty, old, worn brown shoes. His shoes, with barely any sole left at the bottom. His shoes, which he’d worn since Horatio found him.
He’d forgotten to take new shoes.
He couldn’t go back now, no. he’d have to go wearing his old pair of shoes. He walked along to the restaurant, constantly looking down at his shoes. He hoped nobody would notice how terrible they looked. He hoped nobody would notice how terrible he looked, with guilt in his eyes, nervously shaking involuntarily as his actions played through his head endlessly on a constant loop. He could barely breath.
And there she was, across the table. Etesia, blind to the horrors of today. There she was, smiling bright, her green eyes shimmering with joy. There she was, laughing uncontrollably at every joke Nihmedu nervously uttered. She was his opposite; a joyful lady with a youthful glow compared to his nervous, wrinkling face. She never noticed a thing wrong.
A BRAND NEW SUIT
CHAPTER 10
NIHMEDU'S TALE
NIHMEDU'S TALE
“What, do you want to look like that?” Horatio said to Nihmedu. He was standing at the door, ready to go out. Horatio pointed out his clothes, of which resembled more of rags.
“Trust me, if I could afford better I would.” Nihmedu responded. He brushed off his shirt and walked out the door, saying no more. The soles of his mud-covered shoes were worn. Every footstep felt as if he was walking barefoot. His tattered shirt was covered in lint and wrinkles. His black pants were covered by mud splashes.
He stopped and turned his head. He’d noticed a sign, in beautiful bright colours, reading “MEN’S BOUTIQUE”. Nihmedu entered, hoping there could possibly be a low-priced suit. He hadn’t much money left, only a few spare coins from the bag Horatio had left him.
“Hello!” said the store clerk, with a bright smile. “Welcome to my shop!”
“Oh, hello.” Nihmedu said. He tried to avoid conversation and browsed the shop. In front of him appeared a beautiful black blazer with matching pants and a dress shirt and tie to boot. It was a perfect set, one that looked as if it’d match him perfectly. He brought the set up to the clerk, who passed the price to him.
“400 coins? But I only have 4!” Nihmedu yelled in disbelief.
“My apologies, sir. I make these suits myself and so I price them accordingly.” the clerk responded.
“I’ll just borrow it.” Nihmedu responded.
“Sorry, we don’t do loans.” the clerk responded. He placed a hand on the suit as to make sure Nihmedu wouldn’t run with it.
“Well, I need it. Give it to me.” Nihmedu said, “Give me the suit. Give it to me!”
Nihmedu began to tug on the suit but the clerk held strong. He looked as if he was about to call for guards. Nihmedu grabbed a pair of scissors sitting on the counter.
The clerk’s body slumped. A pool of blood appeared. Blood was on Nihmedu’s hands, on his clothes, and on the suit he tried to barter for. He lifted his hands and stared at them in disgust.
“What have I become?” Nihmedu asked. He quickly wiped the blood on his clothes and grabbed another suit. He ran out of the building and never looked back, not for a moment.
He got home and changed into his new suit. He tried to hastily walk out the door, but Horatio stopped him.
“Where did you get that suit from?” Horatio asked. He knew something was up, Nihmedu could not hide it.
“I scraped up some money,” Nihmedu said, “under couches and stuff. You have a lot of money around, just under chairs and carpets.” Nihmedu lied.
“You’re lying.” Horato said.
“Just don’t ask, okay? Nothing happened.” Nihmedu said. He stormed his way out and slammed the door behind him. He looked down at shoes, his dirty, old, worn brown shoes. His shoes, with barely any sole left at the bottom. His shoes, which he’d worn since Horatio found him.
He’d forgotten to take new shoes.
He couldn’t go back now, no. he’d have to go wearing his old pair of shoes. He walked along to the restaurant, constantly looking down at his shoes. He hoped nobody would notice how terrible they looked. He hoped nobody would notice how terrible he looked, with guilt in his eyes, nervously shaking involuntarily as his actions played through his head endlessly on a constant loop. He could barely breath.
And there she was, across the table. Etesia, blind to the horrors of today. There she was, smiling bright, her green eyes shimmering with joy. There she was, laughing uncontrollably at every joke Nihmedu nervously uttered. She was his opposite; a joyful lady with a youthful glow compared to his nervous, wrinkling face. She never noticed a thing wrong.
SOMEBODY
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
Creeping around the old house, Snowflake walked on her toes to suppress noise. She walked around the dark, keeping an eye out for any sounds. As she tiptoed, she kept her head up, her eyes wide to see if he could pick out any movement. Somewhere in the walls, a mouse squeaked. Snowflake jumped, making the slightest noise.
Somebody lives here.
She could hear the blood rushing to her head. She could feel her heartbeat, she felt as if he could even hear her lungs moving. Every time Snowflake swallowed, she could hear saliva rushing down her throat. Snowflake heard another sound, one not coming from her own body. She ran behind a cabinet, keeping her head down. She looked back up again. The wind stirred, whistling loudly.
Does anybody live here?
The wind was blowing through broken glass, tossing the tattered curtains up. Snowflake looked around. She was in the kitchen, one that looked like it had been decorated three centuries ago. The floors were made of rotting wood, the walls made of crumbling brick. The carpet smelled musty, dust flew up with every step. The wooden counters became home to mice, raccoons, and other savage animals. It was nearly night, the light was dark.
Nobody lives here.
Snowflake allowed her heels to touch the ground. The floors immediately creaked, whining with every step. She inched forward, gradually speeding up as she went. She entered a small hallway. There was only one room, door still intact. Snowflake placed her hand gently onto the rusted door knob, twisting it slowly. She slowly opened the door, flinching upon hearing the sound of the creak. She looked in with hesitation.
Somebody lived here.
The bed in the room was unmade, the sheets wrinkled. The pillows were not in their proper places, the mattresses were covered in bed bugs. There was an odour from the room radiating from an old laundry basket, from clothes once new and fresh, now older than she was. Snowflake slowly walked forward, placing a hand on the closet handle. She tried to open the closet, but the handle popped off. Snowflake tried to place it back on, but the handle dropped to the floor, making a loud clanging noise as it did. Snowflake, frightened that someone or something would awake, ran out of the bedroom. She ran through the rotting kitchen, past the forgotten living room, and out the rasping door. She never turned back to face the old house on the hill, slowly dying over the course of many years. She never turned to face the very mountains in the background that gave the town its name. The town of Mountain’s Edge, the town of lost hope.
SOMEBODY
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
Creeping around the old house, Snowflake walked on her toes to suppress noise. She walked around the dark, keeping an eye out for any sounds. As she tiptoed, she kept her head up, her eyes wide to see if he could pick out any movement. Somewhere in the walls, a mouse squeaked. Snowflake jumped, making the slightest noise.
Somebody lives here.
She could hear the blood rushing to her head. She could feel her heartbeat, she felt as if he could even hear her lungs moving. Every time Snowflake swallowed, she could hear saliva rushing down her throat. Snowflake heard another sound, one not coming from her own body. She ran behind a cabinet, keeping her head down. She looked back up again. The wind stirred, whistling loudly.
Does anybody live here?
The wind was blowing through broken glass, tossing the tattered curtains up. Snowflake looked around. She was in the kitchen, one that looked like it had been decorated three centuries ago. The floors were made of rotting wood, the walls made of crumbling brick. The carpet smelled musty, dust flew up with every step. The wooden counters became home to mice, raccoons, and other savage animals. It was nearly night, the light was dark.
Nobody lives here.
Snowflake allowed her heels to touch the ground. The floors immediately creaked, whining with every step. She inched forward, gradually speeding up as she went. She entered a small hallway. There was only one room, door still intact. Snowflake placed her hand gently onto the rusted door knob, twisting it slowly. She slowly opened the door, flinching upon hearing the sound of the creak. She looked in with hesitation.
Somebody lived here.
The bed in the room was unmade, the sheets wrinkled. The pillows were not in their proper places, the mattresses were covered in bed bugs. There was an odour from the room radiating from an old laundry basket, from clothes once new and fresh, now older than she was. Snowflake slowly walked forward, placing a hand on the closet handle. She tried to open the closet, but the handle popped off. Snowflake tried to place it back on, but the handle dropped to the floor, making a loud clanging noise as it did. Snowflake, frightened that someone or something would awake, ran out of the bedroom. She ran through the rotting kitchen, past the forgotten living room, and out the rasping door. She never turned back to face the old house on the hill, slowly dying over the course of many years. She never turned to face the very mountains in the background that gave the town its name. The town of Mountain’s Edge, the town of lost hope.
ENGETSU'S CANYON
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
Upon his beloved mount, the king Engetsu galloped into the distance, followed by his army, marching close behind. His son, prince Nihmedu, chased after him, closely, but could not catch up. He rode through a forest, trying to find a place to hide, but could not. The army followed his every footstep, not allowing him any time to rest.
Eventually, the king was forced to stop. In front of him was the edge of a canyon. If he jumped, he would certainly meet his death. If he turned around, he would be face-to-face with the army he had been running from. There was no place for him to go. All he could do was wait. The prince appeared over the hills, and not too long after, the army appeared as well, blocking off any form of exit that was there before.
“Father, face me,” prince Nihmedu pleaded. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me, but they will,” the king said, pointing at the army behind him.
“They will do nothing. I will make sure they do nothing. Please, father, speak with me. Stop running from me.”
“If I stop running, what will become of me? Will I be thrown into a dungeon? Hung? Burned alive? What will you do to me?”
“You will be imprisoned,” Nihmedu said, “but I will make sure you are taken care of.”
“I will never allow myself to be subject to such conditions.” The king said, rather bluntly. “Such a shame is not to fall to a king. Either you kill me here, or I jump.”
“For the many innocent people who lost their lives to your orders, under your regime, you must pay for your crimes,” Nihmedu said. He spoke calmly, yet without wavering. “The fact that I’m promising you a life of comfort in prison should be enough, any other sane man would have you killed.”
“I have committed no crime. Those ‘innocent people’ you speak of were plotting against me!” The king retaliated. He wanted to say more, but Nihmedu cut in.
“You ended the lives of many in cruel fashion. You took innocent peasants from their families, their homes, and you watched as they died, as the life drained from their bodies. These people were scheming, yes, but they schemed because their king was a greedy tyrant! You took their land, their wealth. In some cases, for your own amusement, you threw peasants into your own cruel game, watching them battle to the death, and you still killed the winner in the end! You were once a benevolent, beloved and dignified king, but now you are nothing more than a lonely, hated old man!”
“I have done nothing wrong,” the king said, once more. “These peasants you speak of committed high treason.”
“You committed murder for your own enjoyment. Do you not feel guilty? Have you no shame?”
The king stood still for a moment. He stood with dignity, with the cliffside to his back. He took off his golden, jewel encrusted crown, and threw it to the ground. The crown did not bounce, and a metallic thud could be heard on impact.
“I am ashamed. If I could start again, I would,” the king began, “but now it is too late. I will not allow you to imprison me.”
He took one step backwards. Nihmedu took a step forward. “Stop, you coward!” cried Nihmedu. The king took another step backwards, and Nihmedu began to run. “Father, please, do not jump!”
The king put his arms out and fell backwards. In that moment, time slowed down. He saw nothing but the overcast sky above him. Soon, the rock face came into view, slowly but surely obstructing his vision of the clouds above him. He saw his son, his beloved son, peering over the hill, screaming his name. The king paid no attention to him, however. He shut his eyes, and was enveloped in darkness.
He plunged for a long time, facing the sky the entire way down. He opened his eyes just before he hit the ground to see Nihmedu staring downwards, screaming in a mixture of pain and anger. For a moment, King Engetsu felt remorse, but it was too late. His body hit the ground and he died instantly.
Prince Nihmedu was now to be known as King Nihmedu, and he had to be strong. He turned around, facing his army, and after taking a deep breath, began to speak.
“Today marks a new beginning. It’s time for the kingdom to start again.”
ENGETSU'S CANYON
MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
Upon his beloved mount, the king Engetsu galloped into the distance, followed by his army, marching close behind. His son, prince Nihmedu, chased after him, closely, but could not catch up. He rode through a forest, trying to find a place to hide, but could not. The army followed his every footstep, not allowing him any time to rest.
Eventually, the king was forced to stop. In front of him was the edge of a canyon. If he jumped, he would certainly meet his death. If he turned around, he would be face-to-face with the army he had been running from. There was no place for him to go. All he could do was wait. The prince appeared over the hills, and not too long after, the army appeared as well, blocking off any form of exit that was there before.
“Father, face me,” prince Nihmedu pleaded. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me, but they will,” the king said, pointing at the army behind him.
“They will do nothing. I will make sure they do nothing. Please, father, speak with me. Stop running from me.”
“If I stop running, what will become of me? Will I be thrown into a dungeon? Hung? Burned alive? What will you do to me?”
“You will be imprisoned,” Nihmedu said, “but I will make sure you are taken care of.”
“I will never allow myself to be subject to such conditions.” The king said, rather bluntly. “Such a shame is not to fall to a king. Either you kill me here, or I jump.”
“For the many innocent people who lost their lives to your orders, under your regime, you must pay for your crimes,” Nihmedu said. He spoke calmly, yet without wavering. “The fact that I’m promising you a life of comfort in prison should be enough, any other sane man would have you killed.”
“I have committed no crime. Those ‘innocent people’ you speak of were plotting against me!” The king retaliated. He wanted to say more, but Nihmedu cut in.
“You ended the lives of many in cruel fashion. You took innocent peasants from their families, their homes, and you watched as they died, as the life drained from their bodies. These people were scheming, yes, but they schemed because their king was a greedy tyrant! You took their land, their wealth. In some cases, for your own amusement, you threw peasants into your own cruel game, watching them battle to the death, and you still killed the winner in the end! You were once a benevolent, beloved and dignified king, but now you are nothing more than a lonely, hated old man!”
“I have done nothing wrong,” the king said, once more. “These peasants you speak of committed high treason.”
“You committed murder for your own enjoyment. Do you not feel guilty? Have you no shame?”
The king stood still for a moment. He stood with dignity, with the cliffside to his back. He took off his golden, jewel encrusted crown, and threw it to the ground. The crown did not bounce, and a metallic thud could be heard on impact.
“I am ashamed. If I could start again, I would,” the king began, “but now it is too late. I will not allow you to imprison me.”
He took one step backwards. Nihmedu took a step forward. “Stop, you coward!” cried Nihmedu. The king took another step backwards, and Nihmedu began to run. “Father, please, do not jump!”
The king put his arms out and fell backwards. In that moment, time slowed down. He saw nothing but the overcast sky above him. Soon, the rock face came into view, slowly but surely obstructing his vision of the clouds above him. He saw his son, his beloved son, peering over the hill, screaming his name. The king paid no attention to him, however. He shut his eyes, and was enveloped in darkness.
He plunged for a long time, facing the sky the entire way down. He opened his eyes just before he hit the ground to see Nihmedu staring downwards, screaming in a mixture of pain and anger. For a moment, King Engetsu felt remorse, but it was too late. His body hit the ground and he died instantly.
Prince Nihmedu was now to be known as King Nihmedu, and he had to be strong. He turned around, facing his army, and after taking a deep breath, began to speak.
“Today marks a new beginning. It’s time for the kingdom to start again.”
Sparro's Current Discord Plug Count: around 18 now
(Looks great btw)
(Looks great btw)
Sparro's Current Discord Plug Count: around 18 now
(Looks great btw)
(Looks great btw)
| + |
| + |
Vera
»-=+=-» FR Time +1 | + |
| +++++ |
» previously Athena » » she/her » » canada +1 fr » |
@EverAthena
You know I've plugged it way more times than that. Thank you!
You know I've plugged it way more times than that. Thank you!
@EverAthena
You know I've plugged it way more times than that. Thank you!
You know I've plugged it way more times than that. Thank you!
INNOCENT
CHAPTER 11
NIHMEDU'S TALE
NIHMEDU'S TALE
“Stop, thief!” yelled a clerk. He chased after a hooded man, carrying a load of food and clothing. The clerk could not chase for long, and there were no guards around to help him. The hooded man turned into an alley, dropping a single piece of bread as he did. The clerk, exhausted and defeated, picked up the piece of bread and returned to his store.
The hooded man arrived home, unlocking his door carefully as to not drop anything else. He turned the key, then turned the knob, and entered. A man was sitting at the dinner table, sipping from a cup of water. The hooded man threw the food onto the counter and was about to make his way to his room when the man stopped him.
“Nihmedu?” asked the man at the dinner table, turning around.
“What do you want, Horatio?” Nihmedu asked.
Horatio’s eyes focused in on the clothing in Nihmedu’s hand. He also noticed the food on the counter, all fresh and not there before. “Where did you get those?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Nihmedu said, trying to act cool. His voice was shaky - he knew he had done wrong.
“Again? I’ve told you to cut it out. You know I can afford food.” Horatio said, rather frustratedly.
Nihmedu sighed. “I’m tired of wearing rags. You should be thanking me.”
“You’ve fallen even further.” Horatio muttered, shaking his head. Nihmedu brushed him off and entered his room. He shuffled through his closet, throwing all his old rags away. He replaced them with his new clothes like nothing was wrong. In truth, he was turmoiled. He knew he was in the wrong, but he could not stop. He lied down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to force himself to sleep. It would be another long night for him. Something inside Nihmedu was telling him to return the clothes. To apologize and hope nothing would be wrong. He knew this would not and never be the case, however.
He turned onto his side, where he saw the suit. The suit he’d hung up to keep from wrinkling. The suit he wore to his first date with a beautiful girl he loved. He tried to convince himself that he stole that suit for her, that his actions were justified. That he was no thief, he only did what he did out of necessity. Somewhere inside, however, he knew it was not true. He knew what he was - a monster. A monster that killed a man over a petty dispute, a monster that steals for a living. Nobody could ever love such as him, not even a girl as sweet as Etesia.
Just a thief, just a thief, just a thief..
Those words drifted in his head all night. Nihmedu could close his eyes, but he could not sleep. He could cover himself with a blanket, but he never felt warm. He could turn and turn, but he was never comfortable. He could breathe deeply, but was always short. He could convince himself he was innocent, but he was not.
He was not just a thief. He was a murderer too.
INNOCENT
CHAPTER 11
NIHMEDU'S TALE
NIHMEDU'S TALE
“Stop, thief!” yelled a clerk. He chased after a hooded man, carrying a load of food and clothing. The clerk could not chase for long, and there were no guards around to help him. The hooded man turned into an alley, dropping a single piece of bread as he did. The clerk, exhausted and defeated, picked up the piece of bread and returned to his store.
The hooded man arrived home, unlocking his door carefully as to not drop anything else. He turned the key, then turned the knob, and entered. A man was sitting at the dinner table, sipping from a cup of water. The hooded man threw the food onto the counter and was about to make his way to his room when the man stopped him.
“Nihmedu?” asked the man at the dinner table, turning around.
“What do you want, Horatio?” Nihmedu asked.
Horatio’s eyes focused in on the clothing in Nihmedu’s hand. He also noticed the food on the counter, all fresh and not there before. “Where did you get those?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Nihmedu said, trying to act cool. His voice was shaky - he knew he had done wrong.
“Again? I’ve told you to cut it out. You know I can afford food.” Horatio said, rather frustratedly.
Nihmedu sighed. “I’m tired of wearing rags. You should be thanking me.”
“You’ve fallen even further.” Horatio muttered, shaking his head. Nihmedu brushed him off and entered his room. He shuffled through his closet, throwing all his old rags away. He replaced them with his new clothes like nothing was wrong. In truth, he was turmoiled. He knew he was in the wrong, but he could not stop. He lied down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to force himself to sleep. It would be another long night for him. Something inside Nihmedu was telling him to return the clothes. To apologize and hope nothing would be wrong. He knew this would not and never be the case, however.
He turned onto his side, where he saw the suit. The suit he’d hung up to keep from wrinkling. The suit he wore to his first date with a beautiful girl he loved. He tried to convince himself that he stole that suit for her, that his actions were justified. That he was no thief, he only did what he did out of necessity. Somewhere inside, however, he knew it was not true. He knew what he was - a monster. A monster that killed a man over a petty dispute, a monster that steals for a living. Nobody could ever love such as him, not even a girl as sweet as Etesia.
Just a thief, just a thief, just a thief..
Those words drifted in his head all night. Nihmedu could close his eyes, but he could not sleep. He could cover himself with a blanket, but he never felt warm. He could turn and turn, but he was never comfortable. He could breathe deeply, but was always short. He could convince himself he was innocent, but he was not.
He was not just a thief. He was a murderer too.