Short stories · Untitled story

Untitled story, part 16

Lyam lay there as the days passed. The woozy feeling started to disappear and wounds heal. It took few days but then he couldn’t just take the lying in bed and forced himself to get on his feet. He washed his face himself, got dressed. By a miracle his ribs weren’t broken, just sore but it still took a lot of willpower to get up and moving so soon. But he felt that there was no time.

No body had stepped a foot on Tarrion’s streets, as far as they knew, after that night. All of them could still see the flames, the blood and bodies on the pavement.. But it should be investigated, that’s what Verrill had said to Lyam as Denisa was out of the room. They both agreed that she wouldn’t be coming with them, but Lyam thought that they couldn’t go alone. They’d need at least few guards with them just to be safe. Verrill didn’t agree, actually Lyam had never seen that sensible man fight against something that hard though even he knew that Lyam was right. But after they both agreed, Verrill went to talk to someone about the mission and left Lyam to get ready.

His legs shook as he walked across the room to the big, old closet and opened it to find a pair of clean clothes. He dressed up. The boots were brand new, which might have not been the best choice: The leather was still stiff and would cause abrasions in his feet.

He pulled the boots on and opened his door, walked through the hallway and outside the front door after a moment of looking for it. He was out, for the longest time. The sun blinded him as he walked right out on a busy street in the middle of the town. He wasn’t sure where he was or where he was going, but stubborn as hell.

He heard the hoofs of a horse hitting the stones and a carriage-wheels behind it, so he took a step back to let it past. Slowly but steadily his eyes got used to the light, even though his movement stayed the same: stiff and slow. He walked along the street on a direction he felt right. Maybe he’d find to the right place. Or maybe he’d need to ask for help.

After walking around in circles for some time he stopped. His injuries made him slower than normally, and so did lying in bed. He wasn’t used to it. He was always up and moving, as he had been for years and didn’t know how to stop. But this time he slowed down enough to ask directions.

He ran into a man, a bit taller than himself, wearing the uniform of the town, so he explained the situation and asked where to go. The guard looked at him for a moment with out any emotion in his eyes and turned around. He walked to the corner of the next house as Lyam just stood there.

“Are you coming or not?”, he yelled and Lyam did his best to caught up on him, as hard as it was to do so.   Continue reading “Untitled story, part 16”

Short stories · Untitled story

Untitled story, part 15

It was dream-like. Lyam simply lied there at times staring at the wooden ceiling planks when he was strong enough to make his eye lids stay open for short periods at time. He heard people talking and the words morphed into his sleep making him feel woozy and.. Dislocated in a way. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on but what was more or less clear to him it wasn’t good. Better than it could have been. Or maybe not?

“He should be dead”, Lyam heard someone whisper and moved his right arm a bit, which made the person flinch, “Did he hear that?” Yes, he did, even though he wasn’t able to say anything and were to forget about it before waking next time from a nightmare.

Sense of time mashed and disappeared to somewhere inside those walls on that day. He didn’t know how long he slept, and how long he was awake. All the voices in the room sounded alike. It felt like years passed, even though it may have been just a day. An hour, Half of it or just minutes. Sometimes Lyam tried his best to open his mouth, say something or move his limbs which made him freak out for a second as he wasn’t quite sure if he could ever do that again. Was he really dead? Some voices he didn’t recognize. They felt strange to him and he didn’t know what made them. One particularly. It echoed from the walls bringing more noise to the room.

Then he fell asleep again.

 

The next time he woke it was night. It had been a day since the fire. A day since the attack and a day since he lost another home. Or maybe even more. As he was slowly waking up he could see her. It had been some time but her face was clear in all the fog he was living in. He could still hear talking, words he didn’t understand but he knew to be different from the language he had heard from the attackers. It felt familiar and made him feel warm inside. The voices were like a choir, singing the message Lyam couldn’t understand.

He felt a shiver.

It ran down his spine, like something was wrong. It wasn’t a stranger passing through his body, he had felt it other times and it was never something good. It made him squirm in the sheets. He threw his arms around until he hit something. A glass of water fell by his bedside table breaking on the floor. The door opened and someone came in to clean it up. His mind cleared up relatively fast.

“Lyam!” he heard a scream he knew as someone ran inside the small room. She grabbed him and held him tightly, mumbling things he couldn’t make sense of. For a short while he just enjoyed the warm embrace and imaged Her. His eyes were closed and he, while it took a lot of effort, held her. And as it slowly occurred him that who was there wasn’t the one he first thought, he still kept his eyes shut and held on to the feeling. The warmth, the memory. Even though he couldn’t hold on forever, he sure as hell would try.

The moment passed, the picture shattered and Lyam was wide awake. Open for the real world to enter his mind. He opened his eyes and let go of Denisa. Tears had filled up her eyes and looked closely there was something glimmering in the corner of Lyam’s eye. Verrill was standing right behind her looking over her shoulder at Lyam. Vaguely Lyam smiled at both of them, still feeling sharp pain running up and down his arm. His ribs were sore as he had fell off of a horse and his head was pounding worse than after a night of drinking. The pain eased a bit after Denisa let go of him.

“So this is how far you’d go to get yourself killed”, Verrill said sounding as calm as he usually did, “Don’t go any further.” His voice turned into more serious towards the end of what he got to say. It was more of a warning than anything else.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Denisa asked worried. She was squeezing on Lyam’s hand as she sat on his bedside. He thought for a second about the whole situation, but tried to sound as carefree as he could when he answered:
“Of course”, he forced a bit wider smile to appear on his face, “You wouldn’t get rid of me that easily.” Denisa teared up again and smiled from ear to ear. The door closed.

“Who was that?” Lyam asked, still confused about simply everything. The door opened again and a woman walked in. She worked her way pass Verrill and Denisa.

“Oh, that. No one”, Verrill answered his question before Denisa could open her mouth. The woman who had entered the room started to open up the bandage on Lyam’s arm.

“So you’re finally awake”, she said, “Your bandages need to be changed and the wound cleaned. The infection seems to be passing, you are a lucky man, mister.” She sounded more scolding than happy to see him awake.

“Infection?” Denisa gasped and looked at her brother.

“Well that happens when you get a wound and won’t treat it”, the woman blaming Lyam. He didn’t care, he was alive and breathing. And so was Denisa and Verrill at least. There was still hope that everything would be alright.

Continue reading “Untitled story, part 15”

What's going on?

Work, work and work

So I got a job last Tuesday, and that is why my writing has slowed down a LOT.

Even though my days may have not been as long as they could, I have been just exhausted when I have gotten home and basically just went to sleep. The job is interesting and I’m loving it, but I don’t really have as much free time as I’m used to and it is very physical, which I’m not used to either. But maybe I’ll find the energy to do something else as time passes. I still try to write as I can and maybe a bit more so I can publish posts on the days I can’t really sit down and write.

Only thing that really annoys me is that I feel a flu coming, my throat is sore and that may be why I feel even more tired and I really don’t have time to be sick with the work and moving away from home, and I’d love to spend more time with my boyfriend. Other wise everything’s good. Life is moving forward. At last!

Short stories

Devoted – Poem

Like a xylophone his heart beated

Looking at her his ears heated

At that moment he was defeated

Something that could not be cheated

 

Love, heart, not cheated, translated

 

He held his breath

To this it led

‘Until my death’

He swore in his head.

 

And from that on

Until he’s gone

Awake he laid at night

 

Even by day

He didn’t sway

He stood until the light

 

She never knew

That in his shoe

She was the little pebble

 

He couldn’t say it

The room she lit

But bursted up the bubble.

 

Still that way

on her wedding day

He looked at her and waited

Short stories · Untitled story

Untitled story, part 14

Denisa watched the back of  that young guard until her brother opened his mouth braking the moment she had created in her mind.

“How did you end up here?” he asked more kindly then he had talked before, his tone softened as he talked to his younger sister, “Are you alright, did you get hurt?”

“Yes, I am. I.. I got here with Lyam”, she answered trying to hold herself back for the conversation.

“Lyam! Where is he? What happened?”, his eyes lit up like Christmas lights as he heard her mention his best friend, maybe they both had survived. He tried to look through the door behind Denisa.

“He.. He’s gone”, she said even though it was hard to let out, “He and I rode here, but he.. Disappeared. They’re looking for him now.” He went silent and led her inside her room. They both sat down on the bedside and just stayed there. It was difficult to find the words, as neither of them had really wrapped their head around the situation or what had happened.

“Is.. Is he dead?” Verrill finally asked and that was a question she couldn’t answer, not that she wanted to either way. She leaned on her brothers shoulder and cried it all out. To the moment when the door was knocked on.

Verrill stood up and went to open the door. Behind it was the owner of the inn, who expressed her astonishment openly: “Where did the earlier bridegroom disappear? He asked me to bring you some food before, I apologize it took so long.”

She lied the plate on the bedside table and showed her way out. Denisa looked at the plate and then at her brother: “Are you hungry?” He shook his head and let his sister fill her belly in silence.

 

Long way from there the men of Farmire rode in the dust. It had took some time to get where they are and there was already a heated conversation about would it be time to turn back. It was a bit after the midday and hot as in an oven. They wiped the sweat over their foreheads and started turning back.

“He’s here!” someone yelled a bit further away to the desert. It was a mile or two away from where they had found the woman and her horse. There he lied. The nightmare that crossed Denisa’s mind had come to true.

 

Blood had been soaked into the sand of the desert and in the middle of the small pool he lied still on his face. One of the men got down from his horse and walked up closer. The vultures had already gathered up in the sky but were yet to start feasting.

The man turned the body over to see his face. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.

“Should we.. Should we leave him here?” he asked the others and walked back to his horse. The thought of lifting a dead body on his horse and carrying it to the city made him feel sick. He pet the animal and looked to the other men around the body.

“We.. We should do at least something”, one of the men said, he was new to things like that too, “To make sure he has a safe voyage.” They gathered around and spent a silent moment there, some of them closed their eyes, one didn’t believe in stuff like that but did as the others. Then they turned away to leave.

It was the same voice as someone made getting up under water after a long time. A nearly violent inhale. All of them turned their head and there he sat coughing like he was about to drown. He spat few drops of blood out, and the men ran back to him. They helped him up and on one of the horses to get him to the city as fast as they could. Some of them did want to run, that was undeniable. But none of them did. And after that experience the one of the men did really believe in something bigger than him, maybe not what the others did but something.

Continue reading “Untitled story, part 14”

Short stories · Untitled story

Untitled story, part 13

Rives stood outside Denisa’s door and leaned his back against the wall. It took time but he ended up sitting in front of the door his arms resting on his knees. TIme after time people walked past him in and out of their rooms further in the hallway. Few times the owner of the inn walked past and glanced at him, first time confused and second kinda scolding. He didn’t care. He just smiled back and nodded as a ‘hello again’.

Time passed slowly by, but he stayed right there letting his mind wonder. Was she alright? She had been quiet for so long. Guess she’s sleeping, no wonder. She was tired when they found her. Hopefully she hadn’t fallen asleep in the tub. Should I go check? She needed her time alone to get her head straight… Would they have found that man she was asking about? Lyam was it..?

Few hours passed and in the end he was on the verge of falling asleep. For a minute or two he closed his eyes and drifted away. He could see her face. It was a surprise and felt kind of weird. Still a warm feeling lied down above him. He smiled a bit.

A loud noise broke his daydream and he jumped up. It slowly occurred to him what was going on – And where the screams were coming from.

He knocked on the door in a sturdy manner.

“Miss, are you alright?” he asked and knocked again as there was no answer. he took a few steps back thinking about braking down the door and as he was charging towards it, it opened. He tried to slow down but ran into the door and bumped into her.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” he said and took steps back. Denisa didn’t fall back and that at least was fortunate about the situation. Tears were filling her olive-green eyes but she wiped them away mumbling a yes. The next door flew open and someone ran to the hall. In a blink of an eye, Rives had a black eye as the man from next bedroom threw a punch.

“What the hell?!” he shouted at the man and took few steps forward, until he heard her voice from the doorway: “Verrill!”

Denisa ran to her brother and wrapped her arms around him tight, sobbing as you may guess. Verrill hugged his sister and then looked back at Rives, who stood there completely stunned by the situation.

“Yeah, back off, asshole!” he shouted and was already looking for his sword from his belt as Denisa grabbed his hand tightly.

“No, Verrill, he’s a…” she started but she didn’t know how to describe the man standing a few feet away.

“A guard, Rousseau Belrose”, he helped her, but had laid his hand on the pommel of his weapon. The man between him and her was looking at him with an angry look in his eyes still as he introduced himself: “Verrill.” Nothing else he said, which left Rives confused ever more.

“I was ordered to look after the miss”, Rives explained even though he felt like Verrill didn’t even listen to him. He just looked back at Denisa at times leering on Rives.

“She don’t need you anymore, she has me”, he said in a cold tone, no word that was thankful, nothing. Not that Rives expected something like that. He looked at Denisa first, to make sure she was alright but after that he turned away to leave. He felt some weight on his chest – His heavy heart weighing down.

“Thank you”, he heard her voice, but wasn’t sure if he just imagined it. It could be. It may have been just a dream, a ghost. Something that he wished for as he left her behind. Something that would tell him.. Nothing. Nothing important anyway. He pulled himself together and pushed his feelings back. He didn’t even know her, it was just a crush, nothing much and would pass, or that was what he told himself to make it all fade away. Even though in his heart he knew that it never would.

Continue reading “Untitled story, part 13”