The King’s palm sent piles of snow tumbling over the edge of the Castle walls as his hand coursed along top of the crumbling stone. Long in disrepair, the snow made it all the more bleak, stark, even hopeless. Inside the Castle a few lights flickered from the narrow windows of the Great Hall. The few inhabitants had joined in song with the harp and lute, but high up on the wall, the only noise was the whistling of the dastardly wind.
Blackness enveloped everything within a stone’s throw of the Castle walls, where nary a torch could stand the blustery night gales. It was as if someone had spilled their inkwell and it was slowly swallowing the Castle from every side.
A lone elderly guard followed close behind, his face scarcely visible beneath a tattered red scarf and a furry hood matted from years of sweat and toil. His dull armor matched the scene, worn leather belt doing its best to keep his sword at his side against the tugging wind. He said little, but it was his duty to stay with the king at all times.
The King himself had said little. His flowing beard and lengthy hair whipped behind him as he carried on at a rigid gait. His robes and cloak rippled like a sail, but he paid no mind to the dire weather, more concerned on the crumbling state of the Castle. He paused above the splintering gate and looked out into the darkness.
“Peter?”
The guard hurried to the King’s side. “Yes, My Lord?”
“Do you hear that?”
The guard could scarcely hear the King let alone anything else over the screeching winds. “I do not, My Lord.”
“And do you see anything?”
“Only the blinding snow.”
The King nodded slowly. “It takes much effort to care for only yourself in this world.”
The guard was not sure if this was meant as insult or simply a statement, so he said nothing. The King clasped his hands behind his back. “The kingdom has fallen into great upheaval.”
“Men without a leader lead themselves,” Peter said. “My Lord, should we not head back inside, where it is warm and safe?”
The King ran a finger over his lips as if contemplating the offer. “We could. But what of the man out there?”
Peter scrunched his wrinkly eyebrows. “What man?”
The King pointed into the darkness. “You cannot see him?”
“I am afraid my eyesight has dimmed over these many years,” Peter said, although he wasn’t sure if this was a matter of eyesight or of a mind breaking under the force of this brutal land.
“He is struggling.”
“Anyone would in this ghastly weather.”
“But he has not given up. He is collecting firewood, miles from any place of dwelling. He means to camp for the night.”
Peter squinted and gave his best effort to spot anything in the dark, but he could not. “It will be frightfully hard to start a fire in these conditions.”
“He is injured.” The King’s eyes misted over. “He will not see the light of day.”
Peter bit his lip. “This man. Would he survive if he had help?”
The King nodded without a shadow of a doubt. “He would see many more sunrises. Does he not know of the Castle? Why does he not come here for aid?”
Peter shifted. The King caught the movement with a side-eyed glance. “Speak freely, Peter.”
Peter rubbed his nose and took a deep breathe. “Your predecessors have been – self-indulgent. They cared little for any outside of their walls, looking only to fatten their pockets and fill their bellies rather than giving aid out of the goodness of their hearts. Once upon a time this was a place of reprieve for any weary traveler, but that was some time ago. It has long been a den of thievery and deceit."
“But was this not the designed purpose of the Castle? A waypoint for travelers before crossing into more hostile lands? A place to feel warmth, to drink and be merry, and to find fellowship?”
Peter gulped. A deep resentment welled inside his chest that tightened his throat and brought tears to the corner of his lashes. “It has not fulfilled its purpose, My Lord.”
For the first time, the King seemed not just displeased, but angry. His jaw stiffened. “No. It has not.”
Peter gulped. Silence followed and he shuffled his feet as an escape for the nerves rattling his frozen bones. The King turned to him, fully this time, and met his gaze when at last Peter would give it. The King’s eyes were dark, like storm clouds forming over the plains, lit by a spark of lightning in the center that radiated not just light, but life. He could not well describe just what it was that made him feel this way, but a glimmer of hope lighted inside him.
The King spoke at last. “It will again. Fetch our horses!” He snapped his fingers and swung his hand in a grand gesture. “We have no time to spare! He will fall if we are but a moment delayed!”
Peter jumped in shock, then scrambled as fast as he could, down the ramparts to the stables where a solitary young stable hand was sitting on a three-legged stool, bundled in wool blankets, only his ruddy face and pale fingers visible as his whittled away on a stick by dim candlelight.
“Up with you lad!” Peter yelled, barely staying on his feet as he rushed past the boy. His fingers were shaking so bad that he struggled to saddle his horse. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, trying to break out it seemed, and his skin felt tingly from head to toe. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.
The boy was slow to move at first, meandering over to the next stall and grabbing the thick horse blanket. “Aye, what’s all this then? I thought I had me a night to meself.”
Peter looked over his shoulder as he looped the reins over his horse. “Ha ha! No time for that tonight.”
“What’s all the fuss?” the boy asked as he picked up speed, Peter’s energy spreading across the stable.
“A mission. A soul to save. Someone in need, and we with the means to rescue him.”
The boy perked up at that. “You mean to ride into this weather?”
“Of course!”
“It’s just so horrible,” The boy squealed in disbelief. “You’ll freeze to your saddles before night’s out.”
“Then think how much worse it is for those with no horse.” The King’s voice filled the stable as he entered.
The boy shirked away, focusing on his job. “Yes, of course. Must be terrible for the lot of them.”
“How much worse for them that think there is no rescue from their peril? It is one thing to suffer and toil; it is much worse to suffer and toil with no hope.”
The boy paused. “And are you their hope?”
The King smiled for the first time, his eyes alive as ever. “I am.”
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,738 Reviews
Hello ze lady of mystery here!
First off, I love this opening line! It hooked me back when I this was first posted.
Lots of cool descriptors here, the inkwell bit is a nice visual. My mind snagged on the last bit of this sentence here.
Maybe have it "and a furry hood, matted from years of sweat an toil." I'm not entirely sure if that does make sense myself, but hey, just incase.
Ah okay another smol thing. Maybe "His dull armor matched the scene, a worn leather belt" To omit one of the "his" in there.
Long hair is SO ANNOYING in the wind so props to him, i hope the wind was blowing it OUT of his face.
How old is Peter i wonder, or rather how young is the king? hum
humm maybe put these together? I had to think for a moment to figure out if the king said that, or is peter said that and then the king entered.
Love this
Ngl this feels like a Jesus and peter analogy or maybe something akin to a conversation Jesus and peter COULD have had.
I liked it, I liked the style. It gave me a picture of this world and what it is, and what it was, and what it could be. It had a nice little "call to action" a sprig of hope which matched the theme very well!
it's a bit og Good King Wenceslas mixed in with Peter
Good evening, Messenger 😊
Felt like doing a final review today and I like focusing on stories so much more than focusing on poems ^^
Hmm I already feel like you could have used a stronger first sentence for your short story. You repeat the word “hand” twice and it doesn’t quite flow as easily as it could have been. The second part with “as” might be actually overloading the entire thing. Would be a good idea to break this up. It might even hide the “hand” repetition. Out of curiosity, why is “castle” capitalized? Especially since subsequent mentions aren’t capitalizing it anymore. You also sometimes capitalize the word “king” and sometimes don’t. It’s important to stick with one or the other.
Ohh I like this image: “It was as if someone had spilled their inkwell and it was slowly swallowing the whole castle from every side.“
I think the “rigid” here is one adjective too many for this sentence: “ his rigid gait”. It kinda creates this pattern that you might not actually want for the sentence. Maybe better to break it up with different phrasings? I am also curious how a trimmed beard is whipping behind him? Maybe it’s more a well-groomed one then?
In general, it looks like you might be relying a bit too much on adjectives, rather than descriptive sentences 😊
Aww I really feel for the guard here. I would also not know what to say to that!
Oha “of a mind breaking under the force of this brutal land.” Now what does that mean? Peter having lost his spirits over the course of his job? *reads on* Or maybe the king is imagining this, drawing a parallel to something that happened to him in the past? Seeing a metaphor there for the state of his kingdom?
You might want to rethink essentially writing “he felt the glimmer of a feeling” ^^°
I suggest removing the first “only” here to avoid the repetition: “where only a young stable hand was sitting on a three-legged stool, bundled in wool blankets, only his ruddy face”
If you want to emphasis that it’s only him out there, you could maybe write a sentence about his thankless job here? 😊
That is a peculiar thing! “For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.” So all this time, watching the surrounds from high on the Castle walls nothing ever happened and he’s been forced to just…watch life pass by and for the first time he has a king that is willing to do something?
Ah dialogue formatting. Remember that “he asked” is not a full sentence and therefore cannot stand alone, that’s why you have to do it like this here; because the boy asked is part of the same sentence as the speech ^^
Same goes for “the boy squealed” (unless you mean for him to say his sentence and then make a squealing sound, in which case you don’t put a comma but a period in the speech xd)
I like that you basically establish early on that there aren’t many ppl still living in the Castle, making it more believable that the King and his one guard are the only ppl heading out into the night!
I do wonder what the plan is tho. The King’s speech sounds like there is more than just that one guy out there and yet, here he is riding out with 2 horses. I’m not an equestrian so I guess 2 will be more than enough to rescue the one person they saw from the walls. Or rather the King saw from the walls.
The text has a very… hm surreal quality at times. It kinda makes me think that maybe the King did indeed imagine the person out there and he’s trying to delude himself into being better than his predecessors, especially after what Peter admitted to him!
Thanks for stopping by :] I appreciate pointing out some of the boring grammatical and syntax stuff. Definitely my weakest point such as with the capitalization inconsistencies. I meant to have them all capitalized since I didn't give them actual names.
If you've ever heard of the song Good King Wenceslas this is heavily inspired by, along with Christian themes of the season.
Anytime Messenger
Grammar/Syntax/Punctuation are essential for readability. That's why I point them out; it's what I appreciate in reviews too [Especially because they are usually easy to fix @.@]
I never heard of the song before and... now that I've read the lyrics I'm no longer expecting a second part to explain more of the story. Must admit that the religious references went right over my head too @.@
MESS THIS IS SO GOOD AHH
XDDDD not exactly a review but I'll take it ;p
I'll consider writing a formal review soon haha