E
Ekydus
Guest
Chapter I : A not so humble beginning.
He stood, held back by the force of the fire. In his eyes, the sparkle of the ever growing blue and red flames of the burning abode he had spent so many years of his life. Horses were screaming in the distance, footprints trailed away from the burning memories and screams of babies and children were ever present. He knew he had to act fast, his mother was still inside, if she was still alive he had to act now. He ran with full force toward the intense heat and flame, skin burning, eyes watering, he made it through the front door and collapsed on top of the broken door. Windows shattered, the fire was surrounding him, but he crawled along the antique rug toward his still mother. At the end of the bed he stood, she was asleep. Swiftly, he picked her up and carried her whilst on his back toward the epty space where the door had once been. The roof above him was screaming with the intense heat, the smoke was grabbing his neck and squeezing his breath away from him. An arrow shot through a window, straight through his arm and into the wall. It had pierced his flesh and travelled into the wall, after a struggle his arm was free. He once again stumbled toward the moonlight through the thick smoke and eventually it cleared. He had reached the grass. Carefully, he placed his mother onto the floor and turned around to see the tree he had planted as a young boy crush his house and belongings. Everything he knew was turning to ash, everything had gone. The screams had stopped now and the horses were moving into the blackness of the night. He turned to his mother and collapsed to his knees; she was still not moving. "Mother!" he cried as he threw his elbows onto her chest and punched the ground. "Help! Help me someone! Please... Someone help!" he screamed as the ground was glowing an unatural red. He picked her up and carried her through the outskirts of the village into the town hall. Bodies were ceremoniously laid across the pathway and all around him, not moving, covered in the same unatural red he had saw on the ground. Once again he was screaming for help. Nobody answered. He placed his mother within one of the isles and covered her with some rags. Coughing could be heard from outside. He swiftly jumped past the damage into the darkness outside once again. "Is anyone there?!" he screeched. A slight trembling voice could be heard from the side of the hall. "Help..." He turned toward the noise and crashed through the dead trees to see a face he recognised. "Is that you?" the voice asked, "Yes, yes it is." he answered. "Please help me, I cannot move..." the voice stated as it was growing weaker. He picked up the young man by his feet and pulled him into the town hall, then placed him next to his mother. "What's going on?" he asked the young man. "They came, they destroyed our village..." he replied. "They were here? The stories are true?" confused, he placed his hand onto the young man and with a depressed face said "Rest, It's OK." The young man collapsed and as he did, the other young man turned once again to his mother. "Wake up!" he screamed at her, nothing. He shook her a little and her eyes flickered, he shook her again making noises of crushing defeat. Suddenly she woke with a gasp for air. "Mother! You're OK!" he put his head against the wooden support beam beside the bench within the isle in which his mother was lay. "Son..." she wheezed "Remember..." Her head fell back and she stopped breathing. "Mother! Mother!" He screamed for her to come back into the night, but nothing was happening. Eventually night also died on the village.
Morning rose, but it was strangely quiet, he was still sat staring hopelessly at his mother. The young man was also laid out, but a small twitch in his eye turned into a flicker, this to a blink. The young man sat up and noticed the dead body in the corner of his eye. He stood up and put his hand on the back of the hopeless individual, with this he wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up also. He covered his mother's face with the rags and picked her up. The young man followed. "Where are you going?" he inquired. "Home." he replied bluntly. The stepped past the despair from the night not a few hours ago and walked slowly along the path, there was ash and burnt wood ahead of them. The tree was still standing, bruised yet not dead. "She wanted to be buried here..." he said quietly. "I understand" the young man replied. "She thought this was the most beautiful place in the world..." he continued "Look at it now." He looked at his burnt feet and ignored the pain as he lay her onto the half dead grass below. A hole was prepared, she was lowered into it and it was covered. He picked up the only living flower and placed it into the twisted earth that was in a smooth hump over his mother. "Goodbye." The words had been delivered, he had returned the favour of death for the favour of life in which she had given him. The young man looked at the sky. "It's all gone." he whimpered as crows flew across the clouds and landed onto the crisp branches of the dead trees around the village. "We should do our duty to the people." the young man turned to the grief struck individual. "Yes, we both grew up here, It's the least we owe them." They marched slowly along the cobble stoned path back toward the blackened village, in every dead face there held a scream, a wish for mercy and a story of what happened the night before. "They look like they've been dead for a long while..." the local said to the man. The other man nodded with disgust, then walked slowly around the village to find everyone he had once known. Klemis the Smith was dead, as was his 2 sons and his daughter who were to wed the son of the stable master Ledrid. A whole town's history had been erased in a night of violence. As the sun was beginning to set once again on the nightmare, the 2 men had managed to bury the dead in even rows. They had used the wood from his old home to make the graves and then they stood about for a while. The young man looked at the other, who was staring at nothing. "What's on your mind?" he asked, "I know what I must do." he replied, before walking south into the woodland that he had walked through so much as a boy. The young man followed him down the the stone at the cross roads, before stopping. The other turned around. "Yes, you're right... We should rest here tonight." They sat down, back on the stone and listened to the hooting of the owls, as it rose up between the branches of which the glow of the moon was present. "It's a full moon." The young man said to the other. No reply. He turned to his right to see he had fallen to sleep after the event. The local gave a slight smile before also closing his eyes and waiting for morning to come. He woke up to a severe shake and looked up at the young man who was looking concerned. "Time to go." He said as he pointed further south into the depth of the woodland. Despite of the intense brightness of the sun, the path still seemed to disappear into blackness. They walked slowly down the path together and were looking around in awe at the wonders infront and all around them. However, they stopped once again, just a few miles in; where the path ends. "Nobody has ever been past this point." he said to his aquired companion. The other looked up and onto the horizon, where the path met dirt and all the rules of the woodland from here changed. "Let's go." he said. They marched onward and eventually saw a clearing. Past the clearing a different flame could be seen. "Camelot!" he shouted, before sprinting into the open. "I thought this place was made up!" They reached the gates and saw men in armour within. He turned to his companion. "Now I know what I have to do." he said calmly, "What would that be?" was the answer that was given back. "I must join the Church." he said with a sparkle in his eye. "The Church? As in the Church inside Camelot? You won't be allowed inside!" he lowered his head, looked up and toward his friend. "Our paths will cross once again soon, that I am sure.", then with this he sprinted away, leaving his companion on the bridge outside the gates to Camelot, staring into nothing. " As he ran away a rush of guilt came over him, not knowing what to do he kept running. He tripped. He got up once again, where the arrow had pierced his arm the wound was bleeding badly. He fell against the wall of Camelot to brace himself, it gave way. He found himself falling down a set of stairs and when he hit the bottom a large flash sparked infront of his eyes. He was soon once again awake. He looked up, there infront of him was the King himself, King Arthur Pendragon. He smiled at the young man. "Found my back door?" he chuckled. "What brings you here young man? You look in an awful mess." The man held his head as if a rush of sudden pain ran through his body, before looking at King Arthur once again. "My village... Gone... Burnt down... It was them..." The King lowered his eyebrows and looked at the young man once again, as if he knew him. "Why Camelot, young man? Only the finest warriors may pass these gates. The young man stood up and with a bold voice declared "I wish to join the Church of Camelot, I wish to learn the art of a Paladin." The King pondered for a moment, this was not normal practice, but this was not a normal young man. "Very well, follow me..." He walked outside of the room where he was sat and the young man followed closely. They walked through the halls and everywhere there were paintings of the great warriors. They walked into the courtyard, across the dirt and into a room. The King pointed to a door, which the young man slowly opened. He was now in a large open area, infront of him he could see a Church. It was almost glowing in it's own light. "Go inside. Good luck." The King said before turning around and walking off. The young man stepped into the Church. It smelt not like a normal Church, it had something special about it. At the end of the vast corridor stood a fair lady, waiting. "Hello young man, how may I be of service?" she inquired. "I wish to join the Church, to learn the art of a Paladin. My mother wanted me to become a Paladin, and now I am filling out her last wish." a tear fell down cheek and he could not look the lady in the eyes. "You do know there will be intensive training? However, there will be great glory too, young man." she lowered one of her eyebrows and waited for his response. "I am ready." he answered with a smile. "Well, does this young man have a name?" she asked in a gentle voice. "Ekydus, Ekydus, son of Alidria" he said proudly. She gave a surprised look and took a deep breath. "Welcome to the Chruch, Ekydus."
------------------------------
Chapter II to follow. Hope you liked this.
He stood, held back by the force of the fire. In his eyes, the sparkle of the ever growing blue and red flames of the burning abode he had spent so many years of his life. Horses were screaming in the distance, footprints trailed away from the burning memories and screams of babies and children were ever present. He knew he had to act fast, his mother was still inside, if she was still alive he had to act now. He ran with full force toward the intense heat and flame, skin burning, eyes watering, he made it through the front door and collapsed on top of the broken door. Windows shattered, the fire was surrounding him, but he crawled along the antique rug toward his still mother. At the end of the bed he stood, she was asleep. Swiftly, he picked her up and carried her whilst on his back toward the epty space where the door had once been. The roof above him was screaming with the intense heat, the smoke was grabbing his neck and squeezing his breath away from him. An arrow shot through a window, straight through his arm and into the wall. It had pierced his flesh and travelled into the wall, after a struggle his arm was free. He once again stumbled toward the moonlight through the thick smoke and eventually it cleared. He had reached the grass. Carefully, he placed his mother onto the floor and turned around to see the tree he had planted as a young boy crush his house and belongings. Everything he knew was turning to ash, everything had gone. The screams had stopped now and the horses were moving into the blackness of the night. He turned to his mother and collapsed to his knees; she was still not moving. "Mother!" he cried as he threw his elbows onto her chest and punched the ground. "Help! Help me someone! Please... Someone help!" he screamed as the ground was glowing an unatural red. He picked her up and carried her through the outskirts of the village into the town hall. Bodies were ceremoniously laid across the pathway and all around him, not moving, covered in the same unatural red he had saw on the ground. Once again he was screaming for help. Nobody answered. He placed his mother within one of the isles and covered her with some rags. Coughing could be heard from outside. He swiftly jumped past the damage into the darkness outside once again. "Is anyone there?!" he screeched. A slight trembling voice could be heard from the side of the hall. "Help..." He turned toward the noise and crashed through the dead trees to see a face he recognised. "Is that you?" the voice asked, "Yes, yes it is." he answered. "Please help me, I cannot move..." the voice stated as it was growing weaker. He picked up the young man by his feet and pulled him into the town hall, then placed him next to his mother. "What's going on?" he asked the young man. "They came, they destroyed our village..." he replied. "They were here? The stories are true?" confused, he placed his hand onto the young man and with a depressed face said "Rest, It's OK." The young man collapsed and as he did, the other young man turned once again to his mother. "Wake up!" he screamed at her, nothing. He shook her a little and her eyes flickered, he shook her again making noises of crushing defeat. Suddenly she woke with a gasp for air. "Mother! You're OK!" he put his head against the wooden support beam beside the bench within the isle in which his mother was lay. "Son..." she wheezed "Remember..." Her head fell back and she stopped breathing. "Mother! Mother!" He screamed for her to come back into the night, but nothing was happening. Eventually night also died on the village.
Morning rose, but it was strangely quiet, he was still sat staring hopelessly at his mother. The young man was also laid out, but a small twitch in his eye turned into a flicker, this to a blink. The young man sat up and noticed the dead body in the corner of his eye. He stood up and put his hand on the back of the hopeless individual, with this he wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up also. He covered his mother's face with the rags and picked her up. The young man followed. "Where are you going?" he inquired. "Home." he replied bluntly. The stepped past the despair from the night not a few hours ago and walked slowly along the path, there was ash and burnt wood ahead of them. The tree was still standing, bruised yet not dead. "She wanted to be buried here..." he said quietly. "I understand" the young man replied. "She thought this was the most beautiful place in the world..." he continued "Look at it now." He looked at his burnt feet and ignored the pain as he lay her onto the half dead grass below. A hole was prepared, she was lowered into it and it was covered. He picked up the only living flower and placed it into the twisted earth that was in a smooth hump over his mother. "Goodbye." The words had been delivered, he had returned the favour of death for the favour of life in which she had given him. The young man looked at the sky. "It's all gone." he whimpered as crows flew across the clouds and landed onto the crisp branches of the dead trees around the village. "We should do our duty to the people." the young man turned to the grief struck individual. "Yes, we both grew up here, It's the least we owe them." They marched slowly along the cobble stoned path back toward the blackened village, in every dead face there held a scream, a wish for mercy and a story of what happened the night before. "They look like they've been dead for a long while..." the local said to the man. The other man nodded with disgust, then walked slowly around the village to find everyone he had once known. Klemis the Smith was dead, as was his 2 sons and his daughter who were to wed the son of the stable master Ledrid. A whole town's history had been erased in a night of violence. As the sun was beginning to set once again on the nightmare, the 2 men had managed to bury the dead in even rows. They had used the wood from his old home to make the graves and then they stood about for a while. The young man looked at the other, who was staring at nothing. "What's on your mind?" he asked, "I know what I must do." he replied, before walking south into the woodland that he had walked through so much as a boy. The young man followed him down the the stone at the cross roads, before stopping. The other turned around. "Yes, you're right... We should rest here tonight." They sat down, back on the stone and listened to the hooting of the owls, as it rose up between the branches of which the glow of the moon was present. "It's a full moon." The young man said to the other. No reply. He turned to his right to see he had fallen to sleep after the event. The local gave a slight smile before also closing his eyes and waiting for morning to come. He woke up to a severe shake and looked up at the young man who was looking concerned. "Time to go." He said as he pointed further south into the depth of the woodland. Despite of the intense brightness of the sun, the path still seemed to disappear into blackness. They walked slowly down the path together and were looking around in awe at the wonders infront and all around them. However, they stopped once again, just a few miles in; where the path ends. "Nobody has ever been past this point." he said to his aquired companion. The other looked up and onto the horizon, where the path met dirt and all the rules of the woodland from here changed. "Let's go." he said. They marched onward and eventually saw a clearing. Past the clearing a different flame could be seen. "Camelot!" he shouted, before sprinting into the open. "I thought this place was made up!" They reached the gates and saw men in armour within. He turned to his companion. "Now I know what I have to do." he said calmly, "What would that be?" was the answer that was given back. "I must join the Church." he said with a sparkle in his eye. "The Church? As in the Church inside Camelot? You won't be allowed inside!" he lowered his head, looked up and toward his friend. "Our paths will cross once again soon, that I am sure.", then with this he sprinted away, leaving his companion on the bridge outside the gates to Camelot, staring into nothing. " As he ran away a rush of guilt came over him, not knowing what to do he kept running. He tripped. He got up once again, where the arrow had pierced his arm the wound was bleeding badly. He fell against the wall of Camelot to brace himself, it gave way. He found himself falling down a set of stairs and when he hit the bottom a large flash sparked infront of his eyes. He was soon once again awake. He looked up, there infront of him was the King himself, King Arthur Pendragon. He smiled at the young man. "Found my back door?" he chuckled. "What brings you here young man? You look in an awful mess." The man held his head as if a rush of sudden pain ran through his body, before looking at King Arthur once again. "My village... Gone... Burnt down... It was them..." The King lowered his eyebrows and looked at the young man once again, as if he knew him. "Why Camelot, young man? Only the finest warriors may pass these gates. The young man stood up and with a bold voice declared "I wish to join the Church of Camelot, I wish to learn the art of a Paladin." The King pondered for a moment, this was not normal practice, but this was not a normal young man. "Very well, follow me..." He walked outside of the room where he was sat and the young man followed closely. They walked through the halls and everywhere there were paintings of the great warriors. They walked into the courtyard, across the dirt and into a room. The King pointed to a door, which the young man slowly opened. He was now in a large open area, infront of him he could see a Church. It was almost glowing in it's own light. "Go inside. Good luck." The King said before turning around and walking off. The young man stepped into the Church. It smelt not like a normal Church, it had something special about it. At the end of the vast corridor stood a fair lady, waiting. "Hello young man, how may I be of service?" she inquired. "I wish to join the Church, to learn the art of a Paladin. My mother wanted me to become a Paladin, and now I am filling out her last wish." a tear fell down cheek and he could not look the lady in the eyes. "You do know there will be intensive training? However, there will be great glory too, young man." she lowered one of her eyebrows and waited for his response. "I am ready." he answered with a smile. "Well, does this young man have a name?" she asked in a gentle voice. "Ekydus, Ekydus, son of Alidria" he said proudly. She gave a surprised look and took a deep breath. "Welcome to the Chruch, Ekydus."
------------------------------
Chapter II to follow. Hope you liked this.
