Here is a snippet from my inkling challenge. I wanted to post from the beginning of the story, but my rough draft is so rough you can’t make sense of it. You miss out on some of my (very mess) world building because I’m dropping you off in the crisis. So here is a quick overview.
This is is set in the fantasy world of Malia, but my world-building is still in it’s young stages and is terrible. Basically this is a world set in a kind of medieval time frame. It is very pagan but there is a new (ish) religion called the Callow’hal which honors the “Hallowed Hosts and the Soverign,” and has been trying to root up the black practices and pagan ideas from the past. But they’re kind of discriminated against and though of as crackpots, and the King’s Royal Guard takes pleasure in tormenting them. They don’t honor their own pagan faith in any real devout way, but they’ve taken a spite to these “Pious Cultists” who they see as taking over the country. Even the the Callow’hal are basically just small people doing small things and they’re not actively trying to take anyone down or physically take over. (By the way, not all the pagans practiced black rituals. The people who practiced that stuff were like druids. Kind of. That’s the stuff I’m still working out. The rest of the pagans were more like Native Americans meets Rome, very “spiritual” but not “supernatural” if you know what I mean. Juri is a young Callow’hal who is married to a Nalvi, who believe vaguely in the “gods of the stars” which guide your way and the ‘spirits of the water’ which shape your destiny.
Juri used to be a member of the Royal Guard but he left it because they had become to cruel and greedy. One day he is home with his wife and seven year old son, and a small group of soldiers come to collect “Protection Money” from the town. The Guard are suppose to protect civilians from the Monsters in the woods and mountains, but really they’re just a bunch of goons that steal money and leave the people to suffer with whatever creature attacks them. Juri is the one who protects his town from the monsters, not the Guard.
When the Soldiers come to Juri’s home and demand money, one soldier tries to touch his wife. Juri defends her and is killed protecting her. Her son, Eilin, also steps up to defend his mother. He is struck down by a soldier, but as he is bleeding the sign of the Hallowed Soverign appears above his head; the three-pointed star. It grows to bright and fearful to stand and the soldiers scatter. Once they’re gone, Nilah prays for help in saving her son.
ANYWAY This thing is really messy and unorganized. I actually VERBALLY RECORDED this entire segment and wrote it down from the recording because I couldn’t make my thoughts flow any other way. This isn’t everything I have, but it’s the only semi-coherent thing. Also, since it was verbal I repeat a lot of names and I’m too tired to edit right now.
@inklings-challenge I know I am INCREDIBLY late to the party. I almost didn’t post at all because this is some of the the most scattered wriiting I’ve ever done. I wish I could have participate more.
I’m probably going to regret this later but here we go. From where Nilah prays for help. 🙈 🙈 🙈
A voice echoed from the mark above Eilin’s head. “take your son outside and pierce the ground with your husband’s sword.” Nilah did as she was told. She went out and struck the earth with her husbands sword. Instantly, a fountain bubbled up from the earth a, spilling over into a warm fountaining pool.
“Draw your son into the water and bless his head with my sign,” said the Voice. “Life shall return to him, from whence it came.” Nilah did as she was bidden and Eilen’s eyes were opened, and mother and son reunited.
Juri was buried in the town graveyard. There were many mourners. Juri was one of the last great Knights, a man not consumed by greed or arrongance, but driven by duty and respect.
Now, it came to pass that the fountain which had sprung up didn’t not dissipate but remained forevermore. Sick and ailing children could come to it and have their infirmities healed answered. Men and women would come and leave their prayers buried in the earth around the pool, in hope their prayer would be better answered. A shrine of sorts was made there, and even some of Nilah’s own people came, at last bucking their superstitious and praying to the Host who dared to bear the mark of the tree, and the Being who dared take the three-pointed star as his own sigil.
And Nilah herself, who herself had long criticized her husband’s faith as mad, found that she also believed in the Hallowed Host and their Kingdom.
Now, Eilin grew into a great man of tall bearing and merry laughter. As a boy he was always gentle but firm. The younger boys loved him for he could not stand a bully, and the young girls admired his strength and his smile. Then, with maturity of age, came maturity of attitude. His neighbors often called the Eilin the great, Eilin the gentle giant, the oak warrior - for he was larger than most men in bearing, spirit, and courage - and strong as an oak tree. Much like his father in laughter and personality, their was a devotion and kindness in his voice and mannerisms that endeared people to him. He was fearless and would often go into the forest to free children who had been ensnared there. He fought the monsters who lurked in the trees, the belching reptiles that climbed up from the depths, vomited out from those places desserted since the Callow’hal people had come.
As Eilin grew the demand on his time grew as well. More often trolls and wraiths from the black altars would sneak their way into the forest and the mountains, ensnaring men and women alike. Eilin, bearing his father’s sword, went out to meet them. Some people whispered that such demands were too much for a young man – he was certain to fall into vanity or pride – or worse, he would fall prey to the monsters he boldy faced.
Yet for all his grandeur he would not join the royal guard however they asked. In his youth he was sent many a letter in the King’s hand. He was offered gold and silver to work for the state. He was begged and entreated. However, Eilin would not answer the messages. When at last, the Steward sent his own guards to claim Eilin, Eilin sent them back with a message of his own.
“I will not serve a sovereign who treats his subjects like slaves. My allegiance lies with Hatha, and the Hallowed that dwell there.”
With this great rejection, Eilin’s reputation grew. A new name was added to him. “The People’s Knight.”
The Royal Guard’s grew jealous of Eilin and his fame. In their jealousy they became more cruel and vicious than before. They burned homes and attacked people who had done them no wrong – attacked especially those who believed in the Hallowed Hosts. They plundered, killing the men, enslaving the children, and treating the women with shameful disdain. Wherever they went chaos ensued.
Always, Eilin followed in their wake, making right their wrongs, mending what was broken. He became an everlasting thorn in their side, and their jealousy and hatred of him grew.
At last one of the soldier spoke. “Listen to me, my friends. Eilin is a terrible man. Great and tall. Who can bear him? Always he seems only two steps behind us, and when he is not two steps behind he is two steps ahead. He protects those who used to fear us, and with him to defend them we cannot obtain the money we once demanded to give them protection form the monsters in the woods. He gives back anything we manage to still – never can we get our share of plunder. Never do we have enough women to satisfy our needs. Once we had all these lands in our hands, caught in terror of our greatness. Our king was away, his charge on us, and the country was ours for the taking. But now a pompous, self-pious man has crept from the water like some deformed evolution of earth.”
The men with him said, “aiye,” and “it is indeed true,” and there was much grumbling. The Soldier continued. “Let us call upon some fell beast of darkness and send him upon “The People’s Knight” who thinks himself invincible. Suppose we call upon a monster who will destroy him for us and bring down his foundations. Suppose we destroy his reputation and all he is, humiliate him before the people. Suppose we get rid of this false warrior – this infected ‘oak tree’.”
And his friends gathered together and agreed to this hideous plot. Now the mastermind of this plot is a fiend and a horror and his name must not be forgotten for it shall be cursed in the lands of Malia, and perhaps at the end of all things all people’s of all kingdom’s shall know and despise it. It has been recorded as Falgo the Deciever, and henceforth we shall call him by this name, that he shall bear the shame of his crime even in his grave.
Now, Falgo the Deciever and his conspirators banded together to call upon a monster who had long ago been struck down and imprisoned by the Man in White for whom no one had a name – but the Callow’hal honored as a holy ancestor and hero. The Man in white and his band were pure of heart and mind, warriors and poets, who studied the heavens and thus rejected the numerous ‘gods’ of the cosmos. They believed in the Hallowed and looked for the coming of the new world. Some said they had been blessed by the Hallowed to rid the land of this monster; the great snake whom Falgo the Deciever now set to release.
In many dark rituals he and his knights kept vigual. The Dark Rituals tainted their minds and souls. Their hatred grew furious, their jealousy shrinking their characters like poison. Now it came to pass that during the night, admist the rituals, several wraiths came to them, drawn by the arts they were performing. Falgo demanded of them the Master, who had long ago ensnared them long ago, and whom they now followed and worshipped. The Wraith’s in their high voices, laughed them to scorn. “The Master only answers to those who will serve him.”
In their blind jealousy, the soldiers were all to eager to destroy their enemy. They said as one; “We will serve. Ye, even to become Wraith’s like you, if only to gain an audience with him. For it is said of old he brought up a terrible beast of great power who could utterly decimate lands and destroy peoples. We wish to call upon this beast, and have control of it, and use it to take down a dreadful man . He is our terrible enemy, and he is an enemy of your Master as well, for he serves the Hallowed Hosts.”
So, the Wraith led the soldiers into the Center of the woods, and down a stairway into the depths of the earth. Here, they were presented to the Master. The Master was pleased with their bargain. In his black mind he thought, what fools, what fools, to bargain so much for so little!
He gave to Falgo the Deciever and his company ten months; Ten to destroy their enemy. He said to them, “Yes I shall call upon a monster and you shall have control over it. It cannot be the same beast which was slain long ago, but it is of the same fabric and long have I worked on it.” And the Master laughed to himself because such beasts were created by malice and hatred and jealousy, and he had all he needed for his monster in the hearts of these men. “In these ten months you will have every chance to destroy the Eilin who has been a sore to you. However, I must tell you that if in ten months Eilin is not destroyed, I will take the Monster back. And you shall serve me evermore.”
The Soldier’s agreed to this. Then the Master bid them to kneel before them, and he lay his dark hands upon their heads, and cursed them. Then he gave to each of them a ring from his fingers, and taught them words in a dreadful language, with which to control the beast, weaken Eilin, and sew iniquity among the good people of Malia.
The Master then drew out from the hearts of Falgo the Deciever, and all with him, the darkness which rested in their souls, and fabricated a monster. It was only a puppet, a shadow with no soul but akin to a machine the black arts could manipulate. It rose into the air, burning and scorching, ready to destroy all in it’s path. It had a great body of writhing mass which could slither like a snake or fly like an eagle.
Falgo the Deciever was given chief charge of the beast, with the others following his charge, able to control the beast to a lesser extent, and able to twist their words so people would grow confused, and brave men frightened. Armed with darkness the men set out with their prize to destroy their enemy.
Falgo commanded the creature attack the smallest villages first, and the creature did as it was bid. Then, Falgo sent one of his men to feign innocence and ask Eilin for help, and so they would ensnare him.
The man played his part well. He ran into Eilin’s home and fell upon his knees. “Friend,” said Eilin. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Eilin, Eilin, If you were ever a friend of the people, help us now! Our village is under attack by a terrible monster. He will destroy us. You must come, you must come immediately. Help us, Eilin.”
“Show me the way.” Eilin followed the soldier to the door. Quickly he turned to his mother. “Mother, I go to war.”
“Son, I am with you.” His mother kissed him, drawing on his head with her finger, the three-pointed star. “Son, remember your mother. Return to me. Remember the healing that comes here, from the Hallowed.” She offered to him a waterskin. He tied it to his belt, He always took some Fountain Water with him, for himself and other who were harmed. Even a few drops would heal those who were injured. “The Host’s be with you!”
Eilin sheathed his father’s sword and went out. He was not afraid. He had fought many monsters and survived, for the blessing of the Hallowed was with him and had been ever since he was first bathed in the sacred water, drawn out by the sword of his father’s sacrifice. He wore with him his Holy Colors and the medallion, set with a three-pointed star. It was his custom to visit the shrine before an attack and to get a prayer from the Selgate, but the soldiers begged and entreated him, and he left without his visit, and without the Selgate prayer.
He followed the malicious soldier to the first village. He found it burned and destroyed. Many people lay dying. More were seen fleeing for their lives. Some were hiding from the flames which pelted from the sky. Then, he saw the monster.
A warning sounded in Eilin’s heart. He knew this was a beast from the Black Kingdom. But it was not like the wraiths, trolls, or mutilated animals which lurked in the woods. This one was shadow and bone, neither living nor dead. This was a cursed beast, a damned impression of reality which the Black Kingdom controlled like a doll. He wondered from whence it had come and how it could have entered this land again when, long ago, the Holy Wit’atal (the man in white) with his band had brought down the same beast and freed Malia from it’s clutches.
Falgo saw Eilin coming. He raised up his hand with the ring and commanded the beast. It surged down upon the innocent people, mouth open, Eilin, brave as he was, drew his sword. He challenged the Shadow in the tongue of the Callow’hal.
The Beast fell to the earth like a massive serpent, and reared in fury. The holy tongue was to him, like fire on his body. He charged Eilin with terrible speed. He caught him in the coils of his shadowy form, and he enveloped the cold black breathless void into his eyes, and he pierced Eilin’s neck with the spikes which were set on his tale – spikes of icey malice. He threw his prey to the ground and roared in pleasure. Few men could survive hatred’s shadow.
Eilin pushed himself to his knees. There was blood on his tunic and blood on his knees, but he kissed the medallion he wore and stood again. His horse, loyal beast, stood near. Eilin knew better than to mount him. He said “Stand back, my friend. Wait for my call.” He raised his father’s sword. “Aba!” He cried. “Wit’atal!” And he struck. The blade struck the Beast who lurched back in surprise and fury. Moral weapons were not suppose to trouble him, yet this one had caused pain. The Beast caught Eilin by the neck in his fluid tale and flew high into the sky. He struck Eilin with his teeth once, twice, thrice, and dropped him from a great distance. Eilin fell.
Before he struck the ground, Falgo had a terrible idea. Suppose the Beast caugh Eilin once more, and with his claws, drove him into the ground and thus ended him in dust, humiliated and broken? Falgo thought with his mind and the Beast respond. He caught Eilin’s body in his shadowy claw and bore him down, intending to make and end of him by teeth and fire, and devour him when dead.
Caught in darkness, Eilin saw his Father’s face. Wake up, Eilin, Juri whispered urgently. Wake up. And he touched his son’s eyes. Eilin awoke. He saw they were near the earth, moving at a mighty rate. He cried, “Be with me!” and as bravely as he could, he turned in the Beast’s grip, and drove his sword into the claw which bore him down. The Beast screamed in pain and dropped Eilin with only a moment to spare. The warrior fell to the ground and was still. He would have ended then and there, but young women from the village got between him and the beast, and shielded his body with her own, and she was born to the Halls of Light, and the Beast was weakened by her love and fled away to recover his strength.
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