1.
Changes
Changes mean different things to different people. To some, changes are all there is to look forward to in a life of monotony, loneliness and disarray. To others, changes are frightening, uncertain, risky pitfalls, to be avoided at all costs. When some think of changes, they envision a dramatic rise to riches, an escape, a new life. Caewyn didn’t think of this. He didn’t think of changes. He didn’t, in fact, think much at all anymore, except maybe to dwell on memories of thoughts he once had, before things… changed.
The rain fell steadily, as it had been for several hours now, with the gentle hiss of rain against the forest canopy serving to disguise the various telltale sounds emitting from the group’s light- footed advances. They worked in near-silence, instinctively scanning the depths of the woods for any disturbances, any movement, any change. Nothing stirred.
He breathed easier now. The relief was evident among the small group, who had risen from their slouched, uncomfortable stances and released some of the tension on their bowstrings.
“Now this makes a change”, Caewyn muttered, still cautiously searching the tranquil scene, refusing to entrust his safety into the arms of nature.
“We’ll head on anyway”, he decided after some deliberation, and with a wave of his arm, he lead the group of six further into the unwelcoming embrace of the deep forest.
It was a rare event that he felt ill at ease, in fact, feelings themselves had all but faded from his memories. But something was wrong. He could sense it in the way that the eyes of the forest watched him with a deeper intensity, making him feel vulnerable and exposed. But surely it meant nothing. After all, he had learnt not to trust his feelings long ago, and could simply disregard them. He was a different person now, cold, unfeeling, calculating, and this was one change in his lifestyle that he had embraced. He had the respect of his men, and of those he opposed alike, he had a cause to fight for, he had a purpose in life. He was happy, although only in the sense that he had finally accepted sadness as an element of his life and so was able to be realistic in terms of his dreams and ambitions. By realistic, that is to say that he no longer had any dreams whatsoever. If he never dreamt for anything, never hoped for anything, and never expected anything, he would never be disappointed. If he were to die to protect his men, so be it, it would be as good a reason as any for living in the first place. He was only twenty-one, but as far as he was aware, all emotion and feeling had been drained by a lifetime of too many memories and shattered illusions. At least, that was what he had thought, until this moment.
A feeling of immense dread slowly overcame him as he approached the valley. He shook it off hurriedly and peered over the edge, down onto the dusty pathway below. His eyes followed the twists and turns of the road, leading up towards the horizon.
“There they are…”
Over in the distance, carriage wheels rattled against the hurriedly cobbled pathway, eliminating the possibility of conversation. The rain beat heavily against the canopy, creating an unsightly sagging above the heads of the three occupants, who had now retired into depressed muttering and sighs of boredom, as though seeking the attention of those outside, in order to lay the responsibility of improving the weather conditions on their heads. Those outside were too busy enduring the downpour to notice the plight of the nobles above.
There were thirteen armed men overall accompanying the carriage on the journey, together with a driver and two horses. Communication was somewhat difficult, due to the increasingly severe conditions and the noise emitting from the carriage wheels, and so each of the men became lost in his own thoughts and relied on his own vigilance. The more experienced guards knew that the journey would be uneventful, there had been little trouble as of late, and it wasn’t likely to change, nothing in their lives ever did. None noticed the watching eyes above them.
With a wave of his hand, Caewyn signalled his men to draw their bows, and he himself steadied an arrow, running his fingers back along the shaft against the ironic soft feathered fletching until they settled against the string. Rain dripped from the wooden frame as he slowly drew the string, increasing the tension until it reached a comfortable limit.
Behind him, he heard an arrow release. Having not given the order to do so, he turned to identify the perpetrator, only to witness one of the men slowly fall forward onto him, his features contorted, dead. There was an arrow in his upper back- not one that Caewyn recognised. He soon became further acquainted with them, however, as further volleys flew out from the darkness of the forest. It was then that he felt something tear through him. It wasn’t the sharp sting of an arrowhead, nor the edge of a sword. It was emotion. Suddenly he became overwhelmed by feelings… Confusion, frustration, fear… No… terror. Another of his friends fell, hopelessly exposed to the all-seeing eyes of the forest.
Stumbling, a third man fell backwards, over the edge, down into the valley below, where he disappeared into the shroud generated by the intense downpour and fell silent.
Without direction, the two remaining archers alongside Caewyn himself loosed their arrows into the darkness but to no avail. It was then that he was overcome by his fear, and betrayed his friends to their deaths. He threw down his weapons, relieved himself of his equipment, turned his back and ran, trying to ignore the dismayed and disbelieving shouts of his now-doomed former allies.
Maybe nothing had changed after all, and he'd been lying to himself about the person he was... Maybe he was human after all... Maybe there was still something or... Someone... Out there that still made him value his life...
He heard the carriage approaching in the distance, and stumbled out to meet it. Where only moments before he had planned to assassinate those within the carriage, he now sought their charity and assistance.
This was something I wrote a few months ago... I just stumbled upon it again today and thought I'd post it here
I'd like to add more chapters to it if I can think of a broader underlying storyline and find the time :touch:
Changes
Changes mean different things to different people. To some, changes are all there is to look forward to in a life of monotony, loneliness and disarray. To others, changes are frightening, uncertain, risky pitfalls, to be avoided at all costs. When some think of changes, they envision a dramatic rise to riches, an escape, a new life. Caewyn didn’t think of this. He didn’t think of changes. He didn’t, in fact, think much at all anymore, except maybe to dwell on memories of thoughts he once had, before things… changed.
The rain fell steadily, as it had been for several hours now, with the gentle hiss of rain against the forest canopy serving to disguise the various telltale sounds emitting from the group’s light- footed advances. They worked in near-silence, instinctively scanning the depths of the woods for any disturbances, any movement, any change. Nothing stirred.
He breathed easier now. The relief was evident among the small group, who had risen from their slouched, uncomfortable stances and released some of the tension on their bowstrings.
“Now this makes a change”, Caewyn muttered, still cautiously searching the tranquil scene, refusing to entrust his safety into the arms of nature.
“We’ll head on anyway”, he decided after some deliberation, and with a wave of his arm, he lead the group of six further into the unwelcoming embrace of the deep forest.
It was a rare event that he felt ill at ease, in fact, feelings themselves had all but faded from his memories. But something was wrong. He could sense it in the way that the eyes of the forest watched him with a deeper intensity, making him feel vulnerable and exposed. But surely it meant nothing. After all, he had learnt not to trust his feelings long ago, and could simply disregard them. He was a different person now, cold, unfeeling, calculating, and this was one change in his lifestyle that he had embraced. He had the respect of his men, and of those he opposed alike, he had a cause to fight for, he had a purpose in life. He was happy, although only in the sense that he had finally accepted sadness as an element of his life and so was able to be realistic in terms of his dreams and ambitions. By realistic, that is to say that he no longer had any dreams whatsoever. If he never dreamt for anything, never hoped for anything, and never expected anything, he would never be disappointed. If he were to die to protect his men, so be it, it would be as good a reason as any for living in the first place. He was only twenty-one, but as far as he was aware, all emotion and feeling had been drained by a lifetime of too many memories and shattered illusions. At least, that was what he had thought, until this moment.
A feeling of immense dread slowly overcame him as he approached the valley. He shook it off hurriedly and peered over the edge, down onto the dusty pathway below. His eyes followed the twists and turns of the road, leading up towards the horizon.
“There they are…”
Over in the distance, carriage wheels rattled against the hurriedly cobbled pathway, eliminating the possibility of conversation. The rain beat heavily against the canopy, creating an unsightly sagging above the heads of the three occupants, who had now retired into depressed muttering and sighs of boredom, as though seeking the attention of those outside, in order to lay the responsibility of improving the weather conditions on their heads. Those outside were too busy enduring the downpour to notice the plight of the nobles above.
There were thirteen armed men overall accompanying the carriage on the journey, together with a driver and two horses. Communication was somewhat difficult, due to the increasingly severe conditions and the noise emitting from the carriage wheels, and so each of the men became lost in his own thoughts and relied on his own vigilance. The more experienced guards knew that the journey would be uneventful, there had been little trouble as of late, and it wasn’t likely to change, nothing in their lives ever did. None noticed the watching eyes above them.
With a wave of his hand, Caewyn signalled his men to draw their bows, and he himself steadied an arrow, running his fingers back along the shaft against the ironic soft feathered fletching until they settled against the string. Rain dripped from the wooden frame as he slowly drew the string, increasing the tension until it reached a comfortable limit.
Behind him, he heard an arrow release. Having not given the order to do so, he turned to identify the perpetrator, only to witness one of the men slowly fall forward onto him, his features contorted, dead. There was an arrow in his upper back- not one that Caewyn recognised. He soon became further acquainted with them, however, as further volleys flew out from the darkness of the forest. It was then that he felt something tear through him. It wasn’t the sharp sting of an arrowhead, nor the edge of a sword. It was emotion. Suddenly he became overwhelmed by feelings… Confusion, frustration, fear… No… terror. Another of his friends fell, hopelessly exposed to the all-seeing eyes of the forest.
Stumbling, a third man fell backwards, over the edge, down into the valley below, where he disappeared into the shroud generated by the intense downpour and fell silent.
Without direction, the two remaining archers alongside Caewyn himself loosed their arrows into the darkness but to no avail. It was then that he was overcome by his fear, and betrayed his friends to their deaths. He threw down his weapons, relieved himself of his equipment, turned his back and ran, trying to ignore the dismayed and disbelieving shouts of his now-doomed former allies.
Maybe nothing had changed after all, and he'd been lying to himself about the person he was... Maybe he was human after all... Maybe there was still something or... Someone... Out there that still made him value his life...
He heard the carriage approaching in the distance, and stumbled out to meet it. Where only moments before he had planned to assassinate those within the carriage, he now sought their charity and assistance.
This was something I wrote a few months ago... I just stumbled upon it again today and thought I'd post it here
I'd like to add more chapters to it if I can think of a broader underlying storyline and find the time :touch: