Home Games All LiteraryClubs Forums Green Room Poetry Prose Roleplays

Magic's Curse

Poltergiest · 2008-06-25T17:16:58Z

Sweat poured off his head as he ran, mouth open, panting from the physical exhaustion that was beginning to settle in. The muscles in his legs began to cramp after having propelled the frail boy’s body for so long. The tall thin trees shot up all around him, blocking the sun he had come to hate so long ago. As he ran he disturbed the fine carpet of settled leaves that had taken all of fall to position themselves in that exact manner. The soft sound of running water rang gently to the boy’s right, there being a small stream he had avoided for some time, because of where it led. He suddenly stopped, feet only inches away from the sudden drop. The water from the stream to his left poured out into empty space and disappeared into the darkness below. The boy angrily brushed his sweat drenched black hair aside. The liquid was seeping into his eyes and blurring his vision which he remedied by rubbing them. The ten year old boy swore under his breath as he turned while hearing the voices getting louder. “Where are you hiding little Khor! Come out! Come out and play!” the voices taunted while drawing closer still. Five figures seemed to materialize from the darkness. Each were large and burly boys, most had either a club or smooth stones in hand. One boy in particular stepped forward. He had pale blonde hair jetting out of a cap worn low on his head, nearly covering his almond eyes. He held stones in his hands and was tossing them into the air and catching them again. “Little Khoralie… don’t wanna play?” At this, the boy heaved a stone at Khor whose ankles were at the edge of the cliff. The stone missed him by at least two feet and sailed into the seemingly endless ravine. Though he dearly wished to, Khor kept a smirk from his face, five to one were not good odds. “Might need to practice a bit more, Jasel.” he said instead. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken but this was the bare minimum his wit would allow. The boy with the cap, Jasel, gave what at first appeared to be a cough but was nearly instantly later to be discovered as a short laugh. Jasel then inclined his head toward a behemoth of a child to his right. Kason stepped forward and the earth rumbled. Shoes and cloths could barely contain this mountain of a person, his head was squashed and his eyes were dilated and darting every which way. Khor stepped as far back as he was able without falling, in doing so, cast several pebbles into the chasm. Kason held a length of wood in his left hand that he was pounding into his right as he approached. Without a single thought or impulse, Khor turned and leapt into the darkness that gladly swallowed him. The rush of hair that followed instantly dried the sweat from his entire body. It was peaceful. Suddenly all the anger and aggression in the air seemed to fade away. The waterfall next to him turned into a fine mist that cooled him. And slowly, every sound, smell and sight was deadened, leaving Khor with an inward emptiness. He inhaled deeply and tasted salty air, like that single day at the beach with his mother. The feeling was unexplainable. And then, all went truly dark. Khor awoke but kept still with his eyes firmly closed. He felt soft sheets on his back and a feathered pillow under his head. He was shirtless and therefore felt the soft wool blanket that was pulled up to his chest. He heard two voices in the room, both whispering. Khor instantly recognized one, it was his mothers, the other took him a moment. It was the village doctor, he knew because he had been to see him several times on account of Jasel and his group. “He should have been killed. When we found him he was barely breathing.” Doctor Shall whispered. “Will he be alright?” Khor’s mother asked. “A stone punctured his skull and pierced his brain. All of his ribs were broken, a lung was deflated, and all of his limbs were dislocated and shattered.” “What are you saying?” his mother persisted. Shall paused and Khor heard him sit into a creaky chair. “He’s completely healed. When Trannil brought him to me, I marked him off as dead. I did what I could to make him comfortable. When I left the room for more bandages… I came back and his body was repairing itself.” Shall stood and came to stand over Khor. “His lung was already reinflated and each of his shattered bones were replacing themselves. It was the most extraordinary thing I have ever seen.” Khor heard his mother draw closer to Shall. “Spark Bright?” she whispered so quietly, Khor nearly didn’t hear her. The doctor didn’t respond. He decided it was time to awaken. Khor opened his fierce blue eyes and attempted to make a sound through his recently discovered dried out throat. He was only able to manage a quiet groan but Shall and his mother took notice. Shall helped him sit up and the wool blanket rolled away. “How are you feeling?” the doctor asked. “Fine.” Khor nearly instantly responded. It was a lie. Khor could easily handle the remaining bruises and cuts but the tone of which they said, Spark Bright had jarred him. Like he was turning into something. “Do you think you can walk?” Shall asked. Stealing a deep breath Khor swiveled his body so his feet were hanging off the side of the bed. He then placed his feet on the cold wooden floors and stood. “Increadible.” Shall whispered. He didn’t fall over but swayed slightly, the doctor moved to catch him but Khor put up a hand to stop him. Khor easily crossed the room and retrieved his black tunic that was resting on a nearby chair. He pulled it over his head and looked expectedly to his mother. “Well doctor?” she asked. “Notify me if anything changes.” She smiled and shook his hand.

grimy89098

Gender

Points 1857

Reviews 28

Thu Sep 18, 2008 2:48 am

grimy89098 says... · Thu Sep 18, 2008 2:48 am

wow, cool story
like the way you explain things, not exactly telling but hinting
im not gonna make a critique at the moment, too busy

other than a few typos and what has already been pointed out, well done

awsome names by the way

I have the memory of a goldfish,
The attention span of a squirrel,
But the mind of a WRITER... or a psychopath, one or the other.

Quote

October Girl

Gender

Points 890

Reviews 203

Thu Sep 18, 2008 3:10 am

October Girl says... · Thu Sep 18, 2008 3:10 am

whoa Pol this was so freaking awesome!!! It sent chills down my spine, I agree with the user above me, coolio names

love ya your friend as always
-Max

We're meant to be one
I know we are...
If I am the Sky
Then you are my star... ™

Quote

Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe.
— John Milton (Poet)

Magic's Curse

About / Info

Forums & RPG

Literary

Resources