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  1. #1
    Fresh Newbie
    Join Date
    Nov 2008
    Posts
    2

    A tale, not yet named. *Updated*

    Foreword.

    Hey guys. I thought I might try my hand at writing again, although I am relatively rusty. Sorry its a bit long but I double spaced each para to make it less of a wall of text.

    NEWS

    -Fri 21 Nov: Poll added.
    -Tue 18 Nov: Chapter 2 added. Currently working on chapters 3 and 4. Look out for updates. I have also added a space reserve.

    --

    Chapter I

    The cool, clean water trickled past Seran’s tongue and washed down his sore and dry throat. It was like he had gone to heaven, and he became greedy. He washed more and more of the water down as the blissful coolness was released into him. His hand cupped into the water and he drunk more and more, until he became sick and vomited on the grass beneath him. Slowly, his lean body slumped to the ground, and he closed his dark eyes, intent on resting for just a while…

    Something brushed his back. He groaned. It hurt painfully and his hand immediately went to the discomfort. His fingers grew sticky, and warm. His unawareness began to clear and he dragged his sore arm to his face. His eyes opened lazily, and his focus began to return. It was only then that he noticed that his hand was covered in a dark, red and sticky substance. He frowned subconsciously, and used his other hand to touch his back. A ricocheting pain shot into his brain as he felt the tender whip marks.

    Darkness fell over him, and Seran opened his eyes, to see a looming figure of a man. The warning receptors in his brain were telling him to get up, stand and fight. Run. But he couldn’t, every muscle in his body rebelled against his will and he was forced just to lie there, neither fully awake nor asleep. It was impossible to make out anything about him; the man’s back was to the sun, but he could see he leant on a walking stick. Once again, Seran slowly slipped into a sleep. A calm, soothing sleep…

    Seran was somewhat aware of a swaying motion. A gentle movement that would be hardly noticeable if you were doing something else at the time. Of course, he wasn’t. He was lying facedown in what seemed was a net of sorts. It was dark around him, and his stomach groaned. Normally, he would have been scared out of his wits and probably be brandishing a weapon by now, but he was too tired and weak to care. His back felt like hundreds of knives had cut across him, and then someone had dropped hot ash on the wounds. It stung immensely, although he was mostly unaware of it.

    Abruptly his surroundings changed rapidly, and he was being hurled about. He heard voices about him… no above him. Creaking echoed through his ears and booms thudded like thunder around him. He had to find out where he was.

    Slipping from his lying place, he suddenly felt incredibly weak again, and slipped to his knees. The ground moved out from beneath him and he slammed into the damp wooden boards below him. Gasping for breath, Seran grasped onto the net where he had lain, and pulled himself to his feet. He was vaguely aware of a wet aroma around him, a bit salty too. It was musky and humid too, even though the walls appeared to be damp, and even in some places dripping with water.

    Water.

    Memories began to plot themselves into his head again. He could remember a stinging pain, unjust punishment, cool, cool water… and shadow.

    Looking around with his dry and sore eyes, he realised there was hardly any light in the room. It shifted again, and Seran gasped, being hurled onto the ground with reverberating pain as his back struck the floor. He wanted to scream, to shout for someone to release him from this painful prison, yet he was unable to. His throat had enclosed and he found himself gasping for breath more than anything. The boy’s hands brushed a puddle of water, and he swiped it against his swollen tongue, immediately regretting it. The salty water made him gag and dry vomit. Slowly, he let himself fall to the floorboards as the ships motion increase. He curled his legs beneath his chin and closed his eyes.



    Chapter II

    Something hard struck Seran’s chin. Groaning, he rolled over, and immediately wished he hadn’t. His back touched the floorboards and he shot upright, pressing his hand against the whip wounds and swallowing with what little saliva he had. It was still dark in the room, although light seemed to trickle through tiny gaps in the wooden boards above him. He was still aware of the gentle rocking motion, and the odd creaking that came from all around him, but it felt vivid and dream like.

    Leaning with his shoulder to a large barrel, Seran pushed himself up. His eyes began to adjust the dim light and he found the wall. He ran his hand along the rough wooden panels, his fingers finding crannies and bumps in the hard wood. He slid his booted feet along the floor cautiously. All his muscles were protesting, telling him to lie down again and close his eyes, although now the receptors in his brain grew stronger and he pushed on.

    A whistle blared from above and there were shouts and cries that sounded far and distant. A large beam of light broke down suddenly and a ladder became visible, as if magic. Seran stopped and quickly slipped onto the floor silently, wincing as pain shot through his back. He shuffled silently on his stomach behind what appeared to be a crate, although he couldn’t tell. A booted foot slipped onto the top rung of the ladder, then another. The man slipped down the ladder and landed lightly on his feet. The sounds from outside were much louder now that the door was open.

    The tall man seemed to have no trouble walking with the slow swaying. He moved from the light and into the darkness. Seran held his breath. It was pitch darkness in the room with only that single bar of light. He could hardly hear the booted footsteps but he was aware that they drew closer!

    Chik!

    Blue light suddenly flared from right behind Seran. Almost whimpering, Seran held still, keeping his forehead on the wooden floorboards. A tiny trickle of sweat rolled into his eye and he started blinking rapidly. It stung painfully, but he knew he couldn’t move.

    The sound of glass bottles clinking behind him hit Seran’s ears. He dared it. Slowly, he turned his head, hoping the shadow from the barrel behind him would cover him from the blue light. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man holding several bottles, maybe three, in one hand, and in the other a blue light seemed to dance just above. It looked as though it was held by a puppets string, suspended in the air. For a moment Seran lost himself, staring into the wonderful colour…

    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice came.

    Seran slunk black, his dark eyes on the dark man’s illuminated face. His hand grasped the handle of something, hard wood or perhaps a metal, but it didn’t matter. Leaping from his hiding place, he swung down with the weapon, intending it to be a surprise attack, but with the same speed as Seran, the figure sidestepped, grasped the boy’s arm and pushed him to the ground with immense speed and strength. The strong man twisted the boy’s arm so that it was bent behind his back and a painful angle. Seran put up no fight; he was far too weak and a sudden dizziness had come over him. The weapon slipped from his hand and rolled to a halt on the wooden boards.

    “You’re quite quick for an Outlander, eh?” The voice came again. It was smooth, but still rusty, and very deep.

    “We… we don’t just farm you know.” Seran replied through clenched teeth. His arm began to fall asleep from the burly man’s hold.

    The man was silent for a moment. “Indeed.” He released his grip on Seran’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Now, more importantly, who are you and what are you doing here?”

    Seran hesitated, slightly confused and growing light headed quickly. “Uh… I was hoping you would tell me.” He said, looking about the room in the dull light.

    “Stowaway, then? Very well.”

    Seran was suddenly thrown forward as a dark hand gripped the scruff of his neck and lifted him from the floor. The blue light suddenly blinked out and darkness reigned.

    “No, wait! I’m not a stowaway! I- I just ended up here!” Seran wailed pleadingly, to weak to resist.

    “We’ll let the captain decide that.”

    “Decide what?” Came a voice, with a following clunk of a wooden staff.

    --

    Look out for more!

  2. #2
    Fresh Newbie
    Join Date
    Nov 2008
    Posts
    2

    Re: A tale, not yet named.

    Reserved.


 

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