Some Story

From Xdw

Current revision as of 22:12, 29 April 2008

Chapter One

Home sweet home

The sky existed only to paint a dull matte behind the towering trees. Faint sunlight penetrated the scarce holes between the thick roof of the Tokara Forest. These trees had lived here for hundreds of years, and yet the bark still bonded with the tree as if it were new. Here was a settlement, with not more than fifty people living here. For twelve years, the inhabitants lived off the sap and wildlife provided scarcely by the land. The TRIBE NAME burrowed deep and complex caverns into the trees. This was home. The network of wooden tunnels provided shelter from the heat, wind and rain. Life was dangerous in Tokara, but there was no fear. Everyone knew each other, everyone trusted each other.

Patrick got home from his daily training. Ever since he was eight years old, he wanted to become an archer, to follow in his father's footsteps. His father crafted arrows using the finest woods, feathers and heads many years ago, before they lived in the Tokara settlement. Patrick always wondered what had brought them to this wasted part of the country, but his father would avoid the question. He would walk for long hours through the thick flora, his mind full of thoughts Patrick desired to know. Patrick wanted to find out about his history, where he came from. He missed his mother, and his sister whom he only had a painted portrait of. He treasured that painting. It hung beside his bed, and he would stare into it every night as he fell to sleep.

Rick, Patrick's older brother was about to leave for work. He was a trainer as a Swordsman and he had been training ever since he was 5 years old. He was well-built, tall, rugged, and respected for his patience. Never had anyone seen him aggravated.

Before Rick left, Patrick emitted in a low, shy voice, "When will you be home? I want to talk to you."

"I'll be home late tonight. Got a few people falling behind in their training. You'd better eat breakfast and get to archery training."

"Okay, Rick."

Patrick didn't really know what to do, so he grabbed a few fruits, and was on his way to training. Once his training area was in sight, lit up by the giant emerald reflecting off the bark of the trees, he sat down by a bunch of lit torches. He stared at the glorious orange light flickering off of the nearby trees. This was the place that gave him peace of mind. This was where he would sit every day, before and after training to think about what he would do when he got older. Did he want to be a warrior? A hunter? He didn't know, but he thought he would figure it out later.

"Greetings, Patrick!" Rufus said. Rufus was his trainer. He was an old, bald Asian man, with thick, white eyebrows that would strike fear into the hearts of those who opposed him. His eyes gleamed off of the emerald, as if he could himself harness the powers that lie within it. The emerald was the forest's centre of attraction. Everyone worshipped it, believed that it could guide them. To Patrick, it was merely a meeting place for him, his trainer and a few of his students.

"Hello, Rufus," Patrick replied after a quick delay.

"Are you feeling well today?"

"Could be better. Let's just get on with training."

Patrick picked up his old bow, and started shooting at the painted tree for a little while with a few of Rufus' arrows. Of course, training to be a marksman, he never missed his shots. He was amazing with that bow, and he couldn't wait to learn how to make one himself. He wanted to be able to use a crossbow, but there was only one that would function throughout the entire settlement. It was his father's, and he would never allow Patrick to touch it. He says only a true marksman is able to use it. Patrick didn't understand what he meant by that, as a crossbow is easier to use than a bow, but he disregarded what he was told, and went on shooting.

Patrick had been shooting for a good few hours now. He took shots while running, rolling and hit moving targets while running. He had become a master with that bow, but now it was time for him to head home for lunch. He didn't just practice archery, he also made arrows when he was at home. He sat by a little block, with a candle and used a knife to whittle arrows out of wood. He would grind rock to make the arrowheads. His arrows were of no match to the ones his father made. He was a hunter, since he was a kid himself. He was taught by his father how to search for prey, what to do when you've spotted a herd of deer. He was a trained marksman. No man could ever hit a target as good as he, especially with that crossbow of his. He would wait in the dark for hours, on his belly, waiting for a deer to walk by. Before the deer could even react, it would have Eric's trademark hunting arrow in its neck.

It only ever took one shot by Eric, Patrick's father to kill something, whether it be man, or a sparrow in mid-flight. He only used that arrow for hunting, and he retrieved it every time he got a kill. It was a unique arrow, as it wasn't made of native wood from that area. It was made of Red Oak, the hardest wood available to them, also the most difficult to find. The head was also made of granite, something they couldn't get from the Tokara Forest. Patrick had always wondered where this arrow came from, but Eric would never, ever answer.

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Chapter Two

I've come for You

Patrick woke up the next morning, tired and groggy, when he noticed a strange orange light outside. He went to the front of his tree, and peered out of the red curtain. He saw a group of people standing in a large circle with torches lit. He put on a few clothes and went out to see what was going on. He walked through the tightly packed mob, and in the middle of it was his brother, with his double sided sword, battling a man of equal size, with an even bigger sword. Patrick had never seen this man before. In all his years of living in the Tokara settlement, he had never seen this man. He wore nothing but a fur undergarment, fur shoulder guards and heavy iron gloves. He was heavily tanned and had almost red skin. Patrick got a quick glimpse of his face, it looked vaguely familiar, almost nostalgic. He knew he had seen that face somewhere, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Rick was pummelled to the ground with the man's mighty sword, and Patrick had saw something the he had never seen before, in his entire life. Rick had a look of rage, Patrick could see it in his eyes. His teeth were clenched, as the man drove his sword into Rick's leg. Patrick was shocked, scared at the same time. He didn't know what to do, so he ran through the crowd, back into his tree.

Eric wasn't home, he was most likely out hunting. Patrick quickly grabbed his bow and a couple of arrows and ran back through the crowd. He pointed diligently, quickly, as his hands trembled while he aimed his bow at the man's heart. But he was moving too fast. Rick rolled around, hopped onto his foot and took a few powerful swings at the man. None of these hits landed on him, and he fell to the ground, his face covered in blood, with anger filling his eyes. He looked desperate, as if he wanted to get up and get rest, but he couldn't. The man was this huge obstacle that Rick couldn't get through. Patrick aimed at the man, before he saw Rufus off at the other side of the circle, with a bow and arrow as well. Patrick closed his eyes, and fired. He opened his eyes, and saw the man, laying on his side, barely moving with multiple arrows in his neck, head and best of all to Patrick, his heart.

Rick lay next to him, bleeding all over the ground and breathing heavily through his mouth. One of Rufus' students, Danny came up to Rick with a cloth, clearing his face of the blood that covered it. He looked like hell, and for a second, he looked relieved that he didn't have to get hit another time. "Someone get some bandages!" Danny called out to Rufus, who was already on his way to get his first aid kit, which held some vinegar, and bandages he had made from cotton.

Patrick was on his knees, with his bow next to him, holding Rick's hand, telling him he'd be alright and that he was safe now. With the help of Danny and Patrick, they were able to get him into the hollowed out tree, onto his bed where he could get some rest. They wrapped his thigh with bandages, as well as his arms. Danny tended to Rick, as Patrick went outside to see what was going on with the mysterious, dying man.

He was breathing very slowly. With a hoarse voice he looked Patrick in the eye, pointed him in the face and said, "I have come for you". His hand lowered and his eyes rolled back. His lifeless body just laying there, with his sword thrown across the muddy ground. Patrick picked it up, and put it beside the man. Patrick removed all three arrows, and tossed them into the pond nearby. They lay afloat, in the clear, slowly rippling water, gouging red from beneath. Patrick stared at them for a bit, as Danny came up behind him and patted him on the shoulder. "He's going to be alright," he said in a low, confident voice. "He's just got to get some sleep for a few weeks but he'll be fine otherwise." Patrick could not get over what he had just heard. He kept reverberating in his mind, "I have come for you", "I have come for you".

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Chapter Three

Recovery

Patrick abandoned Rick later on, with a basket of oranges and some water from the well. He was once again off to training. Eric had come home that day too, with a handful of boar meat that they would have for dinner that night.

"So Rick, your little brother saved you, and I thought you were a master in the field of swordsmanship", Eric said in a low, disappointed voice.

"He was too fast, and that sword... I don't understand, it's as if it had some kind of power over me," Rick replied.

"Booshwa! I know a wimp when I see one. I watched the entire fight from above!"

"You climbed up the trees?"

"Yes, with the help of a sturdy rope, I was able to get up there. I was hunting from above. That's how I got this meat."

"Dad, seriously, what's wrong with you? You always used to hunt on the ground, hiding in the bushes. What's with the trees now?"

"Guess I'm just looking for something new. It was nice and bright up there, none of this constant dark bullshit."

"I guess we're still looking for a way to get out of this godforsaken place. Winter is coming, know what that means?"

"It's going to be cold, windy, and dark as shit."

Eric stayed with Rick for a little while. Looking over his wounds, making sure they were clean. Rufus' granddaughter, Fera, took Rick's place as a trainer. She was a young, slim woman, in her early twenties. She had dark brown hair, and light green eyes. Eyes that were gentle, but at the same time, deadly if you got in her way. She wasn't very strong, but she was quick. Her preference in weapons were two daggers, held hand in hand. Her hits weren't strong, but she could land a lot of them in one go. Her hair would whip through the air fiercely as she sliced the daggers through the air. Fera trained Rick's students well.

"Patrick!" Rick called while he hobbled his way to the dinner table.

"Yeah?" Patrick replied.

"A few days ago, you said you wanted to talk to me. What was it about?", Rick asked as he slowly sunk into chair by the table.

"Oh... about that. Well, I was just wondering, before we lived in this settlement.."

Rick cut him off right there, as he knew what he was going to ask him.

"Patrick, you have to understand something..."

"What?"

Rick's eyes dropped. "We should never talk about what we did before this settlement."

"Well, how did we get in here? There's no light anywhere, and even if you go into the cave, with a torch, it'll burn out before you get out."

"Our father led us here, along with a bunch of other people in our colony. We were driven out of our house, that's all I'm going to say."

"By whom?"

"I don't know."

Patrick figured that he knew something already, and this was his time to ask. But he didn't.

Chapter 4

Rise of Winter.. or something

The Tokara Forest was pitch black at night. A torch could light up the space between a few trees. Not only was it pitch black, it was cold, and there was a faint hint of wind. A few weeks had passed, and winter had come. It was hard to know whether it was night or day, as the snow covered the cracks between the leaves. Winter came fast, skipping Autumn, so leaves would slowly fall through the branches and make a huge mess that the folks would have to clean up.

Winter was the dreaded season for the TRIBE NAME. Animals were all hibernating in spots that people couldn't even think of, or even reach. They had to live off the sap and preserved food kept in storage trees. Wood was always bountiful, so there was no fear of running out of torches. The sheep cage was closed off, and the sheep were guided into a small barn-like building.

This story sucks ass. I hope you die.