Hey everyone. This is chapter 1 of a story that I am working on. Please tell me what you think. A lot of names are mentioned and not expanded on in this chapter, because they will be expanded upon later in the story.
Thanks!
Chapter 1. – Exiled
A flash, whiteness, blurry edges. A white dove on the balcony. A raven flies to it. They fight bloodthirstily. The raven vanquishes the dove away. A voice. Snap! And the image became clear.
“Come now, Da…”
“It’s still Lord for you, Vindictus!” shouted the Lord of Blacknight at the man standing before him, who took a step forward, closing in on the emperor. Behind Vindictus stood his Circle, consisting of a few men and women, all dressed in long, draping purple cloaks, apart from Vindictus himself, swords and flintlocks at their belts.
“I’m sorry, Lord,” replied Vindictus maliciously, in his silvery grey robe. “It is time. Your rule is over. Step back and join us if you will. You knew all too well this was coming. Let someone who appreciates the power of the throne and has the knowledge to greatness take your place.”
“The knowledge to greatness?” asked the Lord of Blacknight suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about! You knew all along the distance that grew between us was only good for one. You. And I think I speak for all of the Circle if I say that we were very, very disappointed in you.” Vindictus mimicked a face of deep frustration.
“You disappointed in me!” cried the Lord. “I was disappointed in you! All of you! Yes, even you, Esther, who stood with me from the beginning of the streets as we scavenged for food,” he looked at a woman with shoulder long, brunette hair, who snarled at him and turned her head away from the conversation, “and you, Demetrius, who helped me gather more people into our Circle and push upwards, rising out of the slums.” Demetrius shook his head in clear denial, his curly ginger hair swinging at his shoulders. “And you, Berendt, whom I trusted with all my heart to bring me the latest news of the corrupt Lord, so that we could strike when the time was right.” His eyes met with Berendt, a meager, skinny man, who was certainly the youngest of the group. He smiled viciously and rested his hand attentively on the flintlock, which he carried at his waist. “And you, Flora, who stood by my side from day one, and whenever anything looked grim it was you who comforted me, telling me all will be alright.” He stared into the two brown eyes of Flora, whose long face draped with hatred at the Lord. She then turned away from him and walked towards the balcony. “All of you, disappointed in me? And look what you have done. Hid for five years, and now you’re here, all of a sudden. All of a sudden you have this urge, this urge to do exactly what we did to the old Lord, but now to me?”
Taking a deep breath, Vindictus’ eyes seemed to almost burn through the Lord’s forehead, trying to incept his thoughts, to pick at his brain, “We are trying to make you understand that it is time for a new ruler. Your ways are getting this city nowhere, and we need someone who knows more about the lands, more about the trade route, more about the whole of Entéa.”
“And who would that be?” asked the Lord dubiously. His confronter merely stared him straight in the eye. “You?” he scowled at Vindictus, who only smiled as a reply.
“Is it that hard to believe? Really? Out of all you know me best.”
“Apparently not anymore,” said the Lord.
“There is more to ruling an empire than merely sitting on its chair,” Vindictus said.
“You blind dog, Vindictus. You ignorant blind dog,” attacked the Lord.
“Think, Lord, just think. Of the opportunities one could have if one just achieved more power. Think of the Eastern End, being able to control Devilium, the entire Circular Route! The Six Stones!” Vindictus exclaimed.
“The what?” questioned the Lord, frowning.
“Think of the power that the Silium family unwisely underused! It could be ours, and we could fully control the Route!”
The Lord looked blankly at the man in front of him, staring into his venomous green eyes, trying to decipher his very thoughts and words.
“But of course, I know you and you know me, and we both know there is more to it than that. Much more,” added Vindictus.
“Look, whichever family you are talking about, it is not us. We are living in a new era, and Blacknight’s conditions right now are far from splendid, and I think that that should be our main concern,” the Lord tried to argue.
“Blacknight this and Blacknight that! You are not thinking outside of these walls!” screamed Vindictus with such enmity, that even his Circle behind him had to wince. “Don’t you realize? You are hindering your own power, your own knowledge! You are your barrier, and we are your saviour!”
“Vindictus,” pleaded the Lord. “Brother.”
The Lord suddenly comprehended that there in front of him now stood his brother, but also his enemy. The air in the quarter was cold with mordacity, and the Circle’s breath was as hurtful as their swords. Vindictus calmed again, and looked expectedly at his sibling. The silence that ensued was not awkward, but rather needed for all members of the room, and a long sought for peace dominated for a few moments. The Lord’s eyes sped from left to right as his feelings overwhelmed him and his thoughts conquered his ability to say anything. He was contemplating about his options, and then about the Circle, and then about Blacknight and its citizens. In his hand he fiddled nervously with an irregular six-edged bronze amulet. He looked out of the window, where it was day – night – day…It was blurry. Either there was a sharp sunlight that stung his eyes with heat as cool as Vindictus, or the darkness of the night embraced the heinousness that surrounded him. Whatever it was, it was unpleasant.
Vindictus then turned to his followers, walked over to Demetrius and whispered something in his ear, who nodded. Vindictus turned back to the Lord, and a slight crease entered his mouth.
“You leave me no other choice, Lord,” he said slowly to the pale figure with the ring on his finger. Demetrius nodded to the door on his left side, whistled, and it opened slowly. On the floor there walked on all fours four full grown Sceons, saber toothed and hungry, their golden fur glistening in the candlelight of the room. They were beautiful yet beastly creatures, and violent when not fed. Their two teeth that protruded were as pointed as a knife could ever wish to be, and their claws screamed death with pleasure. The Lord glanced at them and back to Vindictus, a look of alarm on his face. “Step down, or we will force you to, Da…”
“It’s LORD!” interrupted the Lord violently. “Look at you!” he stared at the pack with such disillusionment that he was on the verge of breaking a tear, “once such good-hearted men and women, fighting for your rights, and now just greed obsessed villains, the lot of you.”
The Sceons growled wildly at his accusation, as if they had understood his words. The Lord’s attention drew back to the crazed creatures, and his heart thumped with delirium. He slowly stepped back, a few feet away from the wall that would mark his dead end, and his eyes met with Flora. Her fiery red hair, usually perfectly groomed, was now flailing rowdily in the air, a witch-like appeal. He looked over to the door, and there stood Thenoir, a bear like man, a square, bearded face, with colossal fists dangling at his sides. He watched the Sceons carefully, and it was up to him whether or not the Lord became their meal. He was suddenly aware of the Lord staring at him, looked up, and smiled without emotion.
“If only Beckings knew of your actions,” declared the Lord finally.
“Beckings! Ha!” disregarded Vindictus.
“He was a good man, and a good friend! And you betrayed him, as you did me.”
“Betrayed you? I think it was the other way around; we were one, and both of you broke off, you cowards!” demanded Vindictus.
The Lord inhaled deeply, then said, “I will not let you betray me again. You did once, but no more. You and your fellowship will not have my word.”
“Well then,” began Vindictus definitively, “your rule shall expire!” And he nodded to Thenoir, who snapped his fingers, and the drooling creatures were suddenly let loose, as if an invisible chain had been taken from them. They aimed at the Lord, who grabbed for his sword by his left and the flintlock by his right. The Circle instantly reached for their weapons, too, cautioning around the room and ready to pull their triggers at any time.
The Sceons raced and leaped at the Lord, who slashed psychotically around the room, and then he aimed for one of them and shot a bullet straight into its heart. It moaned as it slid across the room, its blood tracing the ground.
The second Sceon slashed at his leg with its gigantic claws, causing the emperor to cry out in immense pain. He stabbed with his sword, but missed, and then tried to kick at the demonic cat. The third Sceon pounced at his chest, and clawed into his ribcage. He began to elbow viciously, and struck it across the nose. It flew back onto the king-sized bed, and the Lord stabbed it in the neck. At the same moment, the final Sceon jumped onto his back and scratched open his robe, replaced by bleeding flesh. He managed to kick away the one gnawing on his leg, and reached back with his arms to grab the thing, and then once he embraced it he slammed it against the wall with all his force. It seemed subconscious, but the other Sceon was already running towards him, and once it jumped into the air, mouth wide open, he blocked with his blade, which was perfectly in line with the monster’s jaw, and the cutlass slit its face in two. It dropped to the floor, the red flowing out of its head and spraying uncontrollably into the air. The Circle stood, weapons readily in their hands, Vindictus as calm as ever. The Lord panted heavily as his heart pumped the blood out of his body through his wounds, and he was sweating. The room had transformed from a comfortable study into a massacre’s home.
“Your stubbornness impresses me, Da…” started Vindictus once more.
“Lord,” said the leader callously.
Vindictus chuckled and lowered his head, then looked out of the window behind him.
“What a beautiful day – night – day,” it was still blurry, “Too beautiful to die, don’t you think? Why not give up now, live freely –”
“Freely! If only mother knew of this,” interrupted the Lord once more. Vindictus’ smiled faded, and was turned into a grimace of pure abhorrence. He clenched his fists tightly, but his voice was still unexpectedly calm.
“You leave me no choice,” he said, and with that unsheathed his blade. Advancing, he did not utter another word, and then raised his sword. The Lord, too, made ready his, and moving from slow to fast, Vindictus sliced through the room and both their cutlasses met in midair. Bouncing back, the Lord made his attempt at an attack, but it, too, was blocked skillfully by his opponent. Their fight continued across the room, stepping over the dead Sceons on the way, their bodies tense with spite. The clashing of swords echoed out of the doors and into the deep hallway of stairs, and the Circle watched excitedly.
They moved towards the balcony, which’s door was open, letting in a breeze of peace as the room was drowned in war.
“Impressive skills you learnt from me,” stated the Lord bitterly over the noise of the swords. Vindictus remained silent and slashed away. He had the upper hand as he led the Lord out into the free day – night – day, it was still blurry, and they approached the ledge, which was secured by a fence. Grunting with both force and fear, the Lord knew this was a match he could not win, for if he did miraculously defeat his opponent, he would have another five to beat. His wounds were deafening his body, and he shrunk into weakness as Vindictus struck blow after blow. He tried to evade his hammering thrusts, but couldn’t. Then their blades met and swirled in a circle, swooshing round and round, until the Lord’s strength gave in, and his hand involuntarily released the grip. The sword flew away from the balcony, and he was left empty handed. Vindictus smiled, the tip of his cutlass now at the nose of the Lord of Blacknight.
Then he lowered his weapon, “You are far too easy Da…”
“Lord,” said the defeated man proudly.
“I think I shall take on that honour, now,” said the man in the silver cloak, and he drew his flintlock from his belt, cocked it, and pointed it right at the Lord’s forehead.
“This is it, brother,” whispered Vindictus. “The end of your rule, the end of this road. I will not give you any last words, but listen to mine. You will miss my rule, my rise to power. I will achieve things you wouldn’t have ever dreamt of. Things that you thought could not even happen. I wish I could show you, but it’s too late. These behind me,” he looked at his Circle, who did not hear him speak, “they won’t live to see it. Much like you, apart from Flora. She truly confides in me. I might let her live to see the day of my greatness; what a privilege.” The Lord looked deeply into the green slit eyes as the villain talked, “But now, you must say farewell, Da…”
“LORD!” cried the ruler and snatched at Vindictus’ outstretched arm, who pulled the trigger, and with the bang of the gun the two brothers both toppled over the edge of the balcony and into their doom. As they flew through the air they fought ferociously, not noticing the ground drawing nearer. And then they hit the earth.
The Circle ran over in panic and searched for the two bodies, only to find one lying on the ground next to a bush, which was crumpled. They continued to search, eyes widened with dread.
“Look!” cried Flora as she pointed into the distance.
The old Lord ran for his life. He was bleeding unmercifully, but he could not feel the pain, for he was numb from the fall. He limped across the city – it was dark. There was no end in sight. He had fled his inescapable death, his fate, his own blood. Tightly in his hand was the flintlock that he had grabbed just in time. He looked back one last time and saw the Circle atop the balcony watching him, dark silhouettes, demonic and cruel. Then he focused on his way out of the city, out of Blacknight, which he had ruled for so long, and to what end? Heading for the Circular Route he gripped his only weapon tightly, tucked it, and sped away.
And as he embraced the darkness that engulfed him, he muttered through gritted teeth, “The Descent,” and made his way into the untamed, open world.
Blurry. A flash. Whiteness.
jk of course.) Overall it is good, it is enticing, it hooks the reader, get's them interested, it poses some very interesting questions, and does just what a first chapter should do. It is also of a good length, not too long, or too short. Keep it up.
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