I wrote this about a year ago, i was pretty heavily depressed around that time so i decided to write a story about a character that dies and has to go trough all these trials in the afterlife, i don't really think it's good but a lot of people have asked me to continue, though i'm not sure if i'll be able to, i just can't seem to start writing again.
[quote]Lords are ruthless, they fought for centuries for gods that did not even exist, many of my comrades have died by the blades commanded by them, as fate would have it, this would be the day of my demise, and the day life chose to play its dirtiest trick.
It started as any other day would, wind passing my window, children crying, young and old alike gathering at the local marketplace for their daily conversations and to replenish their stock, smoke rising out of the guard's fires at the top of the watchtowers, and the birds flying overhead, as if trying to capture every beam of sunlight just for themselves.
The mood of the city was somewhat festive, after all, it is not every day that the King names his successor, the story of his son passing has been passed throughout all the countries, and many princes have gathered to our usually quiet castle for the sword fighting competition that would determine who would be the successor.
As many have already reached the castle it is only the most honorable that where fashionably late, the destiny of many kingdoms has been placed into the hands of our King, for if something where to happen to these young men, without a proper successor most of the countries would fall into chaos.
And it is exactly the plan "they" had, it was nearly noon, and the competition was to begin when we heard the war drums, as if it where a cry of a dragon, sudden and piercing, chaos was not the first thing that ensued, for that one moment, the entire kingdom was quiet, not a beating heart in it, "who would dare to attack us" spoke the villagers, with so many skilled swordsmen gathered at one location even the largest army would be nothing more than a suicide run.
When the drums stopped I rushed towards the walls, so that I may see this foe foolish enough to attack the castle, trough many battles I have participated in, I have not seen anything so strange, millions of warriors, not a face to be seen, masks with no eyes, and clothing not of this region, wearing nothing of weaponry other than blades barely wide enough to be called daggers.
But this was not time to admire stupidity of strangers, it was a declaration of war and we had no choice but to retaliate, attack is an attack, no matter how weak the opponent is.
It would seem that our overconfidence would be our downfall, we have gathered around four hundred of our best soldiers and sent them on offensive, they defeated our soldiers without loosing a single one of theirs, the deadly swiftness and the flawless precision where not anticipated, without even realizing it we have lost hundreds of our best in mere minutes without even enough time left for a reaction.
As if they had time on their side, they had not even moved, but merely awaited our next move, without delay, it was time for action, the king has ordered our ranks to attack at full force, all able to fight, young and old, rich and poor, experienced and those who had not even touched a sword, in mere hours the war had taken our future and our past, armed it with a blade, and sent it to fight.
I was the most skilled warrior in the kingdom, second only to the now deceased prince, it was my duty to organize and lead the main force comprised of a thousand men, I was not prepared, the largest amount of soldiers I have ever commanded was a hundred, and at that time I have failed at it.
But it was a different time than, our lives had not depended on it, and I had no doubt that this time we would come out victorious, I had organized three groups of three hundred men, the remaining hundred where among the skilled, with orders to protect the King and not even let myself pass.
The two other groups where commanded by my friends and brothers, I was to take the main group comprised of the remaining skilled warriors on a direct assault, as fate would have it, the last time I saw the ones I cared about was not a sight of beauty, but one of terror and pain, as the two armies clashed it was a bloodbath, in a matter of minutes my fellow warriors where cut down, now it was only me against a great number of opponents, my arms bleeding, all my energy gone, the last thing I remember is the wind, grass dancing in it as if every breeze in the kingdom was moving towards me, my castle on fire screams of the innocent, fire so high that heaven itself was set ablaze, it was the end and I could not have protected them...
...The dawn, sun beaming trough the clouds, the shadows dancing on my face and the song of the birds, as if the great horror was but a dream, filled with joy that terror so great had not happened I open my eyes, as I had raised my hand to stop the sun from burning my eyes a drop of blood had fell on my face.
As a child left in a dark, I could not stop myself from crying, all the terror came rushing back to my head, I had not known what had happened, the last thing I can remember is the thin cold blade, stained by the blood of my friends piercing trough my heart.
‚ÄúSurely I had not survived‚Ä
Oh my! This is fantastic! Those who told you to write were correct - please trust their judgement on your abilities. I am so impressed. And I want to know more. What does she do after she tries to compensate her tears with "warriors do not cry," and the realization that she just did? What does she do with her experience(s) and does she silence herself or become a warrior who does cry?
This is my favorite part:
well, first of all, thank you for calling the main character "she" i never tought about making the character gender neutral, but i was hoping that people reading it could feel as though it was their story, that's why i overloaded it withdetails and emotions.
the character stops crying after hearing those words because they seem comforting in a strange way i was actually thinking of making "her" that said "worriors do not cry" not into a woman, but into a bird, kind of, see the main character really dies there, this is actually a part of kind of transitional area, where one is judged for their deeds and moved to the heaven or hell acordingly, the one that welcomes them and explains this world to them is a bird of paradise, a creature so filled with warmth and compassion for all things that it's mere voice absolves even the heavyest of burdains.
i'm writing a bit of the second chapter now but it's pretty bad because i havn't made any of the edits, spellcheck or proofreading that i do after i completed a chapter
this is as far as i've written but it might be heavily edited by the time chapter is complete
you might notice it's a bit calm right now, that's because my writing like my artwork is heavily influenced by my emotions at the time i write it, at this time i'm writing it while listening to "Megumi Hayashibara - Yasashii Yoake" it's a song from an anime called .Hack// so it's influencing my writing, i guess people that read chapter two will get the most out of it if they listen to this song while they read it.
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