I am not a professional by any means, I wont update regularly, it takes alot for me to put my thoughts on paper, but i want to share my chapters as I write them nonetheless. Im hoping that by posting here I can see some sort of encouragement to keep going, that people want to read my book.
Feel free to ask questions in the askbox, the gods of my world will be happy to talk with you
This chapter follows the main character, Althea, and sets the tone for her back story.
Chapter below the cut
Heulwen just started to rise as his wife, Luain, set in the sky opposite of him. His rays of light danced across the waters of Muireann's Sea, bathing Hope's End in ethereal light that seemed too blessed for the port town to deserve. Their roles forced them to spend most of their lives apart. The sun ruled the day, the moon ruled the night… and only rarely did they share the sky. Today was far from one of those days.
A ship was hastily being moored, sailors fastening ropes to anchors along the docks as sentries guarded the gangway from the gathering civilians. A barricade of soldiers with bronze platemail shining off Heulwen’s rays were barring a crowd of starving people from the cargo they were transporting. Crates of bread, processed meats, wheels of cheese, and barrels of wine, ale, and spirits alike. Items the citizens of Hope’s End would weep to possess, yet they were being forced to watch as they were being transported through their streets to the capital above.
In the distance sat a young girl, high upon a stack of empty crates, watching the crowd grow with each passing minute. The air smelled of rotten fish and metal, the kind of smell that never left your clothes no matter how hard you scrubbed. Yet she could smell the fresh bread she could see from her perch, so aromatic she could nearly taste it.
‘To the bottomless pit of the capital it goes,’ she thought to herself as she sighed, eyes scanning the soldiers as they started to move the crates to wagons. If only she could have been born on the other side of that wall… she'd never starve, she'd never ache for anything.
Amongst the people, she could see her mother, her head weaving between taller shoulders, stretching to see above their frames. Before she could call out to her, a sentry stepped between the barricade of his men, voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd.
“Be gone! Back to your duties, your provisions will be dispersed within the week. The capital will decide your rations.”
Cries erupted, shouting of disapproval and anger, men demanding their families shares, mothers weeping for what was promised for their children. Before this, a portion of these supplies would be given to the denizens of the docks, but today, their king demands first provisions. That young girl, Althea, watched as her mother and neighbors began to push back at the announcement.
“Mama!" Althea cried as she saw her mother break through the crowd and rush one of the sentries. Her cries fell on deaf ears as the woman laid hands on the bronze armor, prompting him to strike her down with a swift hit from his bronze gauntlets.
There was no warning before her body hit the floor with a sickening thud, a sound that seemed to echo through the crowd from Althea's perspective. Her feet stumbled as she watched, the crowd going silent for a beat or two. Her mother didn't move, not even a twitch as the blood pooled at her head on the cobblestone, cries of anger turning to that of fear and anguish.
Althea’s chest tightened painfully as she scrambled off the crates, crashing to the stones in her clumsy descent before rushing her way through the crowd to her mother. Her trembling hands gripped her body, pulling her into her lap where her mother’s lifeless eyes awaited her gaze. Once bright and full of life, turned unfocused and dull, a sight burning into Althea’s memory now. The guards did nothing to acknowledge what they had done, leaving the child to weep over her mother’s body as if they meant no more than the rats in the sewers did.
Althea never heard when the crowd had dispersed, nor when the carts were drawn away with the soldiers alongside them. She lay over her mother’s body even as she felt the sky begin to weep with her, soaking through her clothes and washing away the blood beneath them both. It was as if the goddess, Muirrean, was weeping with her as the waves turned deadly against the docks.
Two hands gripped her shoulders, yanking her from her state of grief and dragging her from her mother's body and into the dark of the alleyways nearby. Before she could protest, her eyes fell on the sentries that had reappeared, now marching towards her mother's form.
“Don't…” Her head finally snapped back to the voice, a boy her age, though shorter and scrawnier. His eyes held pity, but they soon darted back to the sentries past Althea.
“They’re taking her,” he said quietly, looking between the sentries and the girl he'd dragged away.
Althea's own eyes returned to the scene, her body moving to run back to her mother only to be stopped by the boy’s hands again.
“No! They’ll punish you if you interfere. They always do.”
As much as Althea hated it, she knew he was right. She huffed in frustration, body relaxing but still she yanked her arm from his grip as she watched them gather her mother’s body. They laid her onto a cart, neatly draping a cloth over her body before beginning their retreat back towards the capital gates.
One man lingered, eyes scanning the streets as if looking for something. He wore a black cape over his ornate bronze armor, the red furs and fine detailing on the breast plate signified that he was the Lord Commander of the King’s Guard. He was the kind of man normally only seen inside the walls of the capital unless there was a battle, which made Althea's eyes narrow in confusion.
“What in the seven hells is the Lord Commander doing here?” She questioned the boy, who seemed to have the same thoughts etched on his face as she peered back at him.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man seemed to debate walking further into the streets, ignoring the people watching from doorways and storefronts, before finally turning to march towards where his men had already disappeared. “Was he looking for you, as well?”
“I hope not. Whatever reason they have to gather my mother’s body, I would rather not find out by being dragged to the capital as well,” she said quietly as she stood finally, running a hand through her soaked hair. The storm seemed to calm, though the rain persisted. Wind cut through the streets, tugging at her soaked clothes and causing Althea to realize just how cold she was as she turned to the equally drenched boy next to her, extending a hand. “Thanks for pulling me away… I’m Althea.”
The boy looked at her hand with a quirked brow before accepting her help, lifting to his feet as well. His grip was weak, but still quite firm for a boy his size. “Dughall. We’ve met before. Your mother helped pass out rations to us orphans.”
Althea's eyes narrowed in thought before nodding. “Is that why you helped me?” She asked cautiously, letting go of his hand and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, something like that,” Dughall’s lip quirked into a sly grin before turning to walk deeper into the shadows of the alley. “Come on, follow me… I’m willing to bet the Lord Commander will send men to seek you out if he really was looking for you.”
Althea stared after him for a moment, eyes sharpening contemplation. She barely knew the boy, yet he was offering her safety?
“You think too much,” Dughall teased as he noticed she did not immediately follow him, shooting a lopsided smile over his shoulder at her.
Althea huffed, running a hand over her face in contemplation. She hesitated, weighing her options, then reluctantly following him. Her boots splashed through rain-filled puddles as she caught up to him. He led her through the dark of the alleys, past the normal hustle of the port city to the edge of the town. Tucked below the wall to Aradigm, their capital, there were rows of shacks, orphans and elderly caring for each other. Some scrambled at the sight of the new girl, broad and tall with fair hair and eyes that seemed to bore into everything.
“This is my home. You're welcome to it, just don't go scaring everyone with that scowl,” Dughall snickered as he pulled open the door to a small shack with several bedrolls made on top of crates. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than being found by the sentries for whatever they were looking for her for, if that was even the case to begin with.
Dughall retrieved another blanket, tossing it onto the barest of the beds and waving her to it. He quietly fetched some bread for her as she sat down, tugging the blanket around herself to warm up. She gratefully accepted the bread, nodding at him in a silent thank you before taking a small bite.
Althea slowly ripped at the bread, staring off at the door as she bit into it. Her mind reeled, a dull ache building at her temples as she tried to make sense of the day. It took her a long moment before she finally spoke again, pulling her gaze towards the boy again for a short time, studying him a bit. She didn’t quite trust him completely, but who was she to deny a companion?
“looks like we're allies for now,” Althea sighed, eyes drifting back to the door, watching the fading light outside as she thought of that morning — of blood on stone, and her mother’s eyes staring at nothing. How she was now sitting there… with a boy she barely knew, if not for her mother.
Dughall gave her a half smile and nodded, “You can call it a found family… but don’t take that for granted. I don’t give that name to just anyone.”
“Oh, so I should feel special, right?” Althea scoffed with a smirk before tearing off a hunk of the bread to bite into. She didn't mind the boy's relaxed attitude, he'd at least be decent company given the circumstances.
“Special?” Dughall scoffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes, laying back on his bed and getting comfortable. Althea let the conversation die off with a small chuckle at his words, focusing on the food he'd shared with her before following suit and allowing herself to rest.
Luain’s moonlight spilled through the window, pale and watchful. Sleep did not come easily to Althea that night.