Short stories · Untitled story

Untitled story, part two

“The wind was blowing through Lyam’s dark black hair throwing it in front of his eyes making it even harder to see. He looked up to the sky and couldn’t see the sky anymore, as it had disappeared behind the dust and sand that surrounded his little home town, Tarrion. It was located in the western part of the land right on the edge of their king’s territory.

The location on the boarder probably was the only reason why there were still people there, most of them warriors like Lyam himself. He, his brothers, Denisa and two other girls, whose names hadn’t stuck in Lyam’s head, protected a long strip of the borderline between their country and their neighbor. Or they used to back when Algernon still lived. 

The land was dry and dusty, having a farm was simply impossible. But just to keep the country safe, the king was kind enough to make sure all of us had something to eat and to drink. The last seemed to be the most important part for some of the men. But where there were men, something always followed. And that is how Tarrion was formed. It didn’t blossom, but Lyam didn’t need it to. The town was quiet and far from the palace, which was the most important bit. 


Darkness fell fast over the desert, and soon the only source of light was the moon and stars. Moon was full at last. The time seemed to flow by so slowly, and maybe that inspired the men to have more pints poured down their throats. Lyam stared at the sky for a moment, the stars that showed only little difference to where he was from. The sky was the same over both places, new and old home, even though it wouldn’t seem so. 

Somewhere, only few houses away from Lyam a man walked through the most important streets. He sparked up the lanterns that brought dim light  into the town. Stone paving glittered as it bathed in the warm, yellow light that created a halo around the lanterns. At least in some parts of the streets. The lanterns had huge gaps between them to save on expenses that were needed to keep the town running. In front of some of the houses there was only the natural, pale-blue shine. 

For a few seconds Lyam could see the man spreading light through the town, but as soon as he appeared, he was gone to the night continuing his important job. 

It became quiet. The sound of shoes hitting the paving went further and further until it was completely gone. Only wind howled somewhere out there. There were no trees for miles away, and at times Lyam missed the sound leaves made in the wind more than anything else. It was one of those small, simple things that had managed to make a memory and the absence of it at times was driving the poor boy on the brink of madness. 

He closed his eyes, imagined his home. Not the place he had lived for a couple of years but the place he was born. Where he lived his childhood, played hide and seek. There once was a time like that, even though it now seemed like a dream. Sometimes the young man wasn’t quit certain if it was real or not. It just felt absurd and far away. 


Once upon a time he had a mother. We all come from somewhere, so that most likely isn’t a surprise. He used to have a father too, at some point or another but he himself never met him. Even now he didn’t know who his father was, which never really bothered him. It was okay. It was just how things had to be. 

His mother was his whole family. When he was little his mother was the man of the house. She was the woman of the house. She used to bring the food to the table, cook it, keep their home clean from top to bottom and make sure that her little boy never had to run in ragged clothes. For some part of his life, Lyam used to think that his mother could fix everything. 

His mother was also his best friend. When Lyam was young she used to make time to play with her son and do everything she could to make sure he was never lonely. But this was something she couldn’t fix. 


Lyam snapped out of it faster than he had fallen. He jumped up and looked around. Was he just imagining things? That might have been possible, but not this time. He could be sure about it as the sound reached his ears again. It was just terrible. Nothing else could describe the horrid voice more. 

Lyam didn’t stop to think. He was a bit too fast for thought to catch him this time as he started running. He ran straight ahead to the street and started following the voice as fast as he could. First he wan through the main street, but not long after the voice disappeared to a narrow alleyway. It seemed to be trying to loose Lyam from its’ trail, but the young man was fast from his feet. 

As Lyam started to be near the verge of the town, the voice got company. Steps, talking, yelling to be precise. Or at least some of it was. Lyam slowed down and tried his best to make sure he couldn’t be heard. He couldn’t make up the words they were saying but one thing was sure: They weren’t from around here. Even Lyam, as used to keeping to himself, could say that. He could hear the voice third time around, but now it was cut short with a slash of a sword.”

The first part of the story.


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