Chapter 1
Corvin jumped high into the air. A large black rife slung across his on his shoulders, a sword at his hip, a gun in each hand shooting out pellets of burning metal into the air. He roared the whole world cowering in response, “PREPARE TO TASTE CRYSTAL BITCHES!” With a single smooth movement he loaded the devastator and flung it towards the hoards of soulless ones. BANG! A bullet exploded out of the barrel in a cloud of hot hissing smoke, drilling into the skull of the soulless zombie sending its long dead brains all over the floor in a pool of bloody mess.
He pulled the trigger again, again and again. Pellets of metal flew allover the stone amphitheater finding their way into the cold chests of the grisly blood soaked corpses. He stood in the middle of the stage, an actor in his staring role. All around him they stood in standing oblation, cold dead and hungry, their mindless screaming his applause. “The show isn’t over yet boys!” He cried. Around him they fell, like undead dominoes. His body bathed in their cold blood. Their bodies piled up around him but more poured in from every door and every entrance. Slowly ever so slowly climbing down the stone steps their arms raised their eyes blank with hunger. “The world is my stage!” he screamed as he sent his enemies into oblivion. He was unbeatable; he was the king of this world.
Then darkness… Their bitter empty bodies fell in to the ground unison. The world slowed. Silence... He could hear the slow steady thump, thump, thump of his own heart. Whoosh... He bent back leaning to the side gun still pointed forward. An arrow rushed towards him. He pulled the triggers and both guns fired in perfect unison bullets hurdling into the air. He let go, the sharp clutter of metal almost deafening as the guns hit the frigid stone floor. He opened his hands fingers out stretched blazing with fire. He caught the arrow mid air as it buzzed past his dark hair crushing into burning ash with his bare fists. Everything speed up as he pulled him self up. Wicked cold laughter filled the air. He turned and walked away into the distance footsteps echoing. The fallen ones were waiting…
“Corivn! Turn the thing off! NOW! You’re going to be late!” a voice echoed in the distance.
ARRHH! He screamed. The world turning black and a sharp piercing sound retelling though his brain like a ricocheting bullet. He clawed the air but could feel nothing but the touch of cold heartless metal.
“Leigh! I told you not to do that! You can’t just pull the game crystals out you could kill me or make me deaf or something,” he said stumbling his way out of the black gaming cube. He hissed the light burning his eyes. “It said in the instructions…”
Leigh laughed looking at the face of her little brother. “Playing games really Corvey? How old are you? Seriously!”
“It’s not a game it’s a training exercise!"
“It’s not easy being a knight you know and your going to have to step up. In case you have forgotten where Emilkin and because as that your going to have to be twice as good as the other boys to even pass!”
“Cool it, equal rights remember,” he said. She shook her head and thrust a dinner jacket into his chest.
“Two minutes in the mess hall don’t be late.”
“WHAT? No, no, no, no. This cant be possible its only 4 o’clock”
“Wake up game boy its 6 o’clock,” she said amusement showing in her stern voice. His face dropped. Quickly he pulled on his jacket and flattened his messy hair. His sister laughed. “Good luck!” she screamed as he ran off into the distance.
He ran out of his family quarters at what seemed the speed of light jetting down the corridors of the old building his feet blurring. He was fast and he knew it but when it came to strength he failed miserably girls these days didn’t like skinny runners they wanted ripped and muscular like. He ran and ran out of the old quarters into the new. He ignored the gold painted walls famous paintings and gold gilded furniture jumping over and old maid cleaning the floors and nearly pushing over the butler who was per usual stone drunk and holding bottles of wine. He could not be late, he could not be late.
Thomas scowled, snapping his old fashioned silver pocket watch shut. He was going to be on time. He was never on time, he always late. Not because he a busy but because he wanted to be, because he could be. There was nothing better than making somebody wait for you. Of course at his level he could afford to be late. He was after a prince, a king, in every way except in name. He lifted his arms a beautiful woman slid black silk shirt over his glistening torso. The soft fabric seemed to caress his skin with soft kisses, showing every curve on his finely sculpted body. The woman, or should I said girl, giggled slowly buttoning up his shirt, teasing him. He smiled coldly; he didn’t even know her name.
He fell back into the soft bed and the messy sheets for a second enjoying the warmth of another body on his. She lay on his chest giggling. He closed his eyes as she pulled up his fashionable leather pants playing with the golden buttons. For a second he forgot about his responsibilities, the approaching war, his mother and his father and his stupid half brother. A moment of pure bliss.
Then…He could hear footsteps from far away heavy, strong and regular. He could hear the unique flick of a lighter, the popping of a silver canister. Alongside he could hear foot steps of another lighter almost whimsical, his brother and his father. His eyes snapped open. With a hand he pushed the girl off him, her slender body falling on to the bed with a dull resonating thump. His other hand slid out across the sheets grabbing hold of a red gold embodied jacket. In a single fluid moment he launched his self out of the bed. Jacket hung casually on his shoulder pocket watch tucked neatly inside. His hand barely brushed the handle. There was a click and it swung open on its own. Tom ran his fingers though his dark blond hair letting a single stray hair fall perfectly across over his eyes. He opened the door and bowed low.
“Your Majesty, You highness. Sir Thomas Von Uradel at your service,” he said though gritted teeth, his eyes staring to the feet of his bother. He could here their entourage approaching. His brother giggled, like the incompetent fool, he was as the slight of the maid he had spent the night with. “I though I would find you here, boy. I came here to congratulate you on the slaying of the Rathborn dragon. My counterpart in Aquiline is very pleased that you rescued his daughter. Did you well to be frank… bed the princess?” said his father, his voice strong and regal despite his age. “You thank me for committing murder? And yes I fucked the stupid princess it was the least way she could thank me I killed a regal creature, I killed kin to rescue her. I did it nor for her but for you, and our country,” he said forcing the words out, his body still bowed over. Slowly he straightened looking his father in the eye. He towered above them all, black eyes cold. His father nodded, advisers whispering in his ear.
He took one look at his father’s entourage. He saw the Prime Minister, his countries top generals and a whole gaggle of important ministers from all different political parties. His father gave him a look and strode away, the whole group of following him. He frowned, the naked maid behind him blowing a kiss. He slammed the door.
Celardor of Morrigan stared out of her window onto an open courtyard. It was spring time; her old ancestral home was in full bloom usually barren stone walls covered with exquisite red roses. The surrounding woods buzzing with the sound of new life. Chicks sung for their mothers and week old fawns danced underneath their innocent eyes shining in the golden light. She watched in contempt as her twin danced across the pavement surrounded by an assembly of forest nymphs. She seemed to radiate with goodness outshining even the sun. She was the epitome of innocence, youth and virtue. A pure white dove amongst black ravens. Her luscious dark locks swaying in a cool spring breeze, crowned with garlands of white flowers, her tanned feet sliding across the floor keeping perfectly in time. Her slender willowy body seemed to sway in the wind. Beautiful and alluring in every way she was not.
But she did not envy her sister; she had so much her sister did not. She turned leaving thoughts of her twin behind pulling the thick velvet drapes over the window, the sun making them glow an eerie purple. She sat there for a second her face a mask of indifference, pink lips never smiling. After all what did she have to smile at? Or for? She lifted her self up, white cotton dress floating around her ankles. A large black bird watched her move across the room with beady black eyes. She seemed to float over the stone floor like an eerie spirit of one long dead .Her deathly pallor not unlike the cold glow of a ghost. A candle flickered and died plunging the room into darkness. She frowned, turning back towards her window the thick drapes glowing as the harsh sunlight beat down upon them, the only light in her dark world. From outside she could hear the joyous laughter of her sister. Her fist curled.
The story is set in a fantasy world that has grown up.Like Middle Earth in a computer age.
Please tell me what you think of the characters? I tired to give them all a very distinct if not superficial view of each in this chapter. I'm not sure about the title.
Please tell me what you think of the characters? I tired to give them all a very distinct if not superficial view of each in this chapter. I'm not sure about the title.
