Spoiler
Hi. This is a rewrite of the first novel that I ever wrote. I wrote the original back when I was 10 or 11, and is was pretty bad. But I liked the overall premise of the story. So thanks for reading
Edit: As of July 18th, I'm doing heavy revisions of this "novel" so I will not be posting any more until I have finished with revisions.
Edit: As of July 18th, I'm doing heavy revisions of this "novel" so I will not be posting any more until I have finished with revisions.
The Final King
Solomn – Part One
“You’re positive this is the assassin?” asked a hushed voice. Where are they? I saw something moving outside my window. The light of the moons shone through the window. Found them. Two men with hunched back crept through my door. I barely caught a glimpse of them before I clinched my eyelids shut. From what I saw they were dressed in all black. Who are they?
“Of course, we wouldn’t be here otherwise. Besides King Nox pointed him out specifically,” whispered the other man. I heard them moving closer. Time seemed to slow down as they grew closer. My heart skipped beats. Fear rolled through my mind. They’re going to kill me.
Shit! Within an instant I felt their hands wrap around my wrists as they threw me to the ground dragging me outside in the process. The dirt and rock covered ground passed under my body without any resistance. I had no control – they were dragging me somewhere. Somewhere I knew I did not want to be. The dirt from the ground danced up and down through the air around me. Rocks and pebbles bounced on and off of me. Cuts and bruises began to form. My blood was being spilled across the ground. And just as soon as it started, it stopped.
The fists that clenched around my wrist let go, and I found myself free. I jarred my eyes open to see the world around me. I had expected light to rush into my eyes, but there was no such occurrence. If anything, one could say darkness rushed into my eyes. I was in a dark room. The room was darker than the blank night sky. Two absent figures loomed above my head staring down at me. I was definitely not free.
“So this is him. The one that the King pointed out?” asked a man. He was on the left side looking down onto me. He sounded like an idiot. The tones in his voice fluctuated from high to low multiple times in the same word. I almost wanted to laugh, yet I knew I shouldn’t; I’d be punished severally.
“Apparently so, said he knew who it was at first glance,” said a raspy voiced man. The more he talked, the more I felt as though I recognized his voice. I had heard it somewhere before. Where had I though? Was it in the market place? Or was it just around town? Suddenly it hit me like a punch, rapid and hard. He was a royal guard for the King. His name was Dagen.
From what I remembered about him he was tall and had dark brown hair. He skin was pale and had a light blue tone to it. He looked like an elf, yet he was a human. His ears were at a half point, and his face was slightly squished. He also seemed to always be wearing his armor. Over his armor he always wore something than had the King’s seal on it, a hawk.
“So you are the assassin. Think you can off our royal family eh?” asked the other man.
“No, the thought never passed my mind,” I answered. Dagen was peculiar in the way he interrogated people. If he disliked the answer he was given, he would punish the prisoner. I waited for something of the sorts to happen. Yet it did not come.
“Never?” asked Dagen.
“Never,” I repeated.
“Why did the King point you out as the Queen’s assassin?” asked the other man.
“Stanson enough, I’ll handle this,” stated Dagen.
“Don’t ask me,” I said slowly.
“Solomn don’t lie! We know it was you. There are witnesses!” yelled Dagen. He was lying, he had to be. Any right-minded assassin would not have let any witnesses walk freely. Then again the assassin did allow the king to live, which obviously meant he wasn’t in the right mind.
“I can assure you, I am not lying,” I said calmly. If I became angered, Dagen would surely hurt me. Apparently he decided he did not like me being calm either, because he reached behind his back and pulled out a whip. He then whipped me on the back. I let out a yell in agonizing pain. It seemed like days before Dagen finally got tired of whipping me. He just ended up walking out of the room in frustration. I was left to my thoughts in the dark room; nothing but me and darkness. Why did the king blame me?
Exactly how long I was in the darkness, I will never know. The only thing that I will truly know about my time there was what happened to me. My mind had several attempts in escaping the torment of being alone in the darkness. It tried to escape to a paradise deep within myself. This ultimately failed for I too often was reminded of reality. The only successful escape attempt made by my mind was when it decided to relive the day prior to my capture. That proved to be the one saving grace that kept me sane.
The day began as normal as one could. The effects of sleep suddenly wore off and I stared up at my ceiling. The wood was a dark mahogany colored wood. I was never positive if it gained this color naturally or if it was just dried on dirt. The ceiling was flat and low. Well I found it low; most others found it to be way to tall. I was, according to most, abnormally tall. Many have tried to convince me that I was not fully human, they said I had to be half giant.
I never knew if the people were right in calling me a half giant. I grew up only knowing my father. He was incredibly tall, as far as I could remember he was taller than I am now. He was a ragged fellow. Had long brown hair and always had stubble. He did manage to keep it as stubble. That always astounded me for I never saw him trim it either. He had deep golden eyes that seemed to change color in the light. They would grow greener with more light, and redder with less. It was strange, for I was the only one to notice it. My father also had a bizarre obsession with time. He always talked about it with his friends. I guess it makes sense, he was a watchmaker.
Around the time I turned nine my father disappeared. And with his disappearance, my life changed dramatically. I was lucky enough to have a good family friend take me in. From there I was pushed into becoming a guard for the King. I never had any desire to follow this, but I tried my best to act enthusiastic. Let's just say that did not work very well. I was kicked out of the guard service and was forced to take up my father's old job, watch making.
Golden light shone through the window at my bedside. It was early morning; the sun had just begun its slow accent into the sky. The last glimpse of the two moons went by swiftly as they disappeared below the horizon filled with trees. I turned over in bed to look out the window. There were few people in the streets yet. This was a first. Almost always there were crowds of people storming through the streets in the early morning. Sounds of birds and roosters filled the air. Slowly I stood up from my bed. At first I felt as if I was about to fall over sideways, but the feeling wore off. The black fog that lined the edges of my vision grew rapidly almost to the point where it enveloped my vision. Just as quickly as it happened, it wore off. This always happened, everyday. I hated it.
Quickly I got dressed and ready for the day that lay ahead. Living alone took a toll on me sometimes. Rarely did I ever cook for myself; usually I was left to thievery. I threw on my black cloak, pulled up the hood, and swiftly walked out my door. There’s no one else out here! I looked all around and still saw no one. This may not go well. I knew how this worked, there were a few days when I was alone out here in the morning. It was on those mornings that I had been caught in the act of stealing. I still needed food. My aching stomach would not let me wait long enough for people begin to fill the streets. The Kingdom of Azure was empty; and I was alone.
Empty was a relative term though. It was barren of all humans. That simple fact was alone strange, and different. For, despite the diverse population, Azure was a human kingdom. It was settled by humans, and ruled by humans. Scaren, elves, and many others had fled their own territories to the safety of Azure.
I began to creep down the empty street. Houses were filed on both sides of the street. Large and small, they all kept the same general shape. How early am I? The golden light caused shadows to stretch across the street, covering me inside it. Smells of sweets and bread rose into the air. As I walked they danced around before entering my nose. Finally I found the bakers shop. He must have been awake as well. A fiery light shone threw his window, his silhouette outspoken against the dense red light. Just outside his small, unlevel, shop was his stand. Daily in the early morning hours, the baker would place his breads and other treats for all to see.
Quickly, and quietly, like you do every day! Silently I crept up to the stand. A few loaves of bread laid out to rest. Their elegant aromas danced around my nose. Trying to stay low and out of sight from the window, I reached up to the top of the stand. I felt around trying to find a loaf or two. I heard something moving from inside the shop. The baker either saw my hand, or was bring more food out. Shit! He can’t catch me, not this time. I quickly located two of the loaves of bread and swiftly darted away. As I ran, I looked back to see the baker standing looking down at his stand.
“Gods, I swear that I had close to five loaves of bread out here. Damn thieving scaren must’a stolen them!” echoed the baker through the streets. Thank the Gods! The baker usually never blamed the scaren for my acts. Today must have been my lucky break. Thank the Gods! Quickly I found myself in a narrow side street of the city. The light barely reached this area of the city, and as such it looked old and worn down. As I walked I took a bite out of the loaf in my right hand as if it were an apple.
“Mr. Solomn?” asked a squeaky voice from down the street. Shadows covered the end of the street. I could not see who was speaking, yet I knew exactly who it was.
“Vanil?” I asked, even though I knew I was correct. Vanil was a scaren, one who was out of work. From the shadows walked out a mouse like creature that stood on its back two feet. Around his waist was a belt that housed the creatures small bone dagger. Its tail wrapped around its body to pull out the dagger. Using its tail the creature pointed the dagger at me. Yet, I was not scared, why should I be. I threw the scaren the loaf of bread in my left hand. The loaf was then impaled by the dagger.
“You is too kind, Mr. Solomn,” said Vanil. Vanil’s fur had puffs of white spots amongst the endless gray.
“I wouldn’t feel right keeping all of the stolen goods to myself, there are more needy people amongst the city,” I said. Vanil continued to walk out of the shadows, as I turned around to head back out from this narrow street. Vanil was a good friend, he would do anything for me, and I felt that I needed to do something for him. His life is better living in the street than it would be if he had work. Most scaren like Vanil were the servants of rich greedy humans. It was rare that there would be a scaren who owned something of their own. Vanil’s only possession was the bone dagger which belonged to his father, and his father’s father. Vanil once told me that the dagger was made from the bone of the dragon that had destroyed the kingdom from which the scaren hail. He told me that his ancestor had helped to kill the dragon.
As we walked through the city, I saw many familiar faces. I always did, for I had sold most of them watches. Never did I see a stranger in Azure, especially in this part of Azure. Yet today was different. Two strange men were waking amongst the common people. These men were dressed odd, even walked odd. One man, who seemed to be the eldest, walked with a staff using it as a crutch as he walked. Compared to wearing shirts of bland colors and pants of either leather or cloth, these men were dressed in dark blue robes. Golden lace lined the edges of their robes. Their hoods casted a shadow down over their faces, causing even more mystery. As they walked around light flooded into one of their hoods revealing a pointed ear. An elf! I couldn’t believe it elves rarely left the Forest of Arin’thron, and when they did they never came this far south. What a sight indeed.
“Mr. Solomn, that a elf?” asked Vanil. He’s eyes stared at me with wide curiosity.
“I do believe so, a rare sight indeed.”
“Oi’ Solomn you thieving bastard!” yelled a voice the bellowed from behind me. Sadly this had to happen eventually, but why now? I turned around expecting to see the baker running at me with his rolling pen up in the air in anger.
“Kinsly?” I asked when I saw who was yelling. Kinsly was the son of the man who took me in after my father’s death. He was like a brother to me, even though there were times when we wanted each other’s throats.
“Who else would I be?” asked Kinsly as he strutted towards me. His face was the same color as his hair, fiery red. A sword was in his hand, and he waved it about in the air.
“Well- I uh, you’re right, you can only be you,” I said. He was already pissed, if he knew that I truly was a thief he would have my head for an early supper.
“Found this right outside your house,” said Kinsly as he waved the sword more vigorously that he had. If he only had a tad bit more intelligence in him, he would figure out that the sword could hurt him. As he shook it, he nicked his neck. Serves him right. “Why’d you have father’s sword?”
“Well, you just cut yourself, good job brother. Also that’s not your father’s sword,” I said.
Kinsly began fingering his neck trying to find the cut. When he failed he began to try to look at his neck, turning around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. I heard a small squeaky chuckle rise out from Vanil.
“Oh really then,” said Kinsly when he finished chasing his imaginary tail, “then who is it belong to?”
“I’m not sure; I’ve never seen a sword with a band of gold going down its blade. It must be rare, maybe even ancient,” I said. The sword looked ancient indeed. The hilt looked worn down, but it had a red jewel on the end. Someone was surely missing this sword. Kinsly handed me the sword to examine closer. It was certainly not one I had ever seen before. I did not even look like it was made by human hands.
As the rest of the day passed, I grew tired of examining the sword. Vanil had gone back to his shelter, and Kinsly ran home to find help for his ‘terrible cut’. I found my way home, and left the sword leaning on the side of my house. The plan was for someone to find the sword and recognize it.
Eventually I fell as sleep and I woke up to someone asking “You’re positive this is the assassin?” Little did I know that it was the sword the pointed them towards me.
