I'd subscribed to this thread a while back but hadn't taken the time to read the story until that last couple days. Well done!
I just recently watched Eragon - I can see how that could inspire a person to write. I like how Shynael is impetuous and has a bit of a sarcastic wit. Quite different from the stereotypical cold, wise dragons. Of course Shynael is just a little dragon yet, full of youthful enthusiasm. You're only a kid once!
Anyway, I'll be keeping my eyes open for new sections.
The Black Dragon (tentative title)
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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kryptech - Posts: 393
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 1:18 pm
- Location: GTA
Author's Note: Whee! I'm on a roll! I was feeling so inspired that I wrote the next bit already! I hope you like this section; it contains an idea that I've had for a long time. (Oh, and thanks for your comments, kryptech!)
"Here I go!" Shynael whooped, running forward and flapping his wings madly. He leapt into the air, and his wings pushed him upwards.
Shard called out encouragement to him until the dragon was out of earshot. Over the last week, Shynael had become better and better at flying; he could now take off from the ground and land without tripping over his own wings and tail. Shard sat down to watch his friend make loops and figure-eights through the air. He loved watching the dragon fly, and was very glad that Shynael had learned how. All the same, when Shynael had taken off to go soaring about, free of all restraint, Shard began to feel...lonely. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but the feeling became stronger each time. He was sure that Shynael would always return to him, but in the hours of silence, Shard began to miss Shynael's incessant remarks about his mother, or his teasing comments, or his playful shouts during their games.
Sometimes Shard had been lonely in the village as well. After Father Mark had taken it upon himself to care for him, Shard's playmates had slowly drifted away from him. It wasn't intentional; Father Mark had never kept Shard from going out to play with the other children. It just...happened. Perhaps Shard had felt different from the others once he moved into the church. Maybe Father Mark's daily teachings had separated him from his fellows. Few of them had ever learned to read, but Father Mark had taken special care to teach him his letters. Father Mark had become his main companion, but the old priest was more of a mentor than an equal. Shard realized that he had been lonely for the majority of his life.
One day, when Sean had been about seven years old, he lay face-down on his cot in the little room adjacent to Father Mark's, his face buried into the thin blanket. The cloth muffled his soft, whimpering sobs and soaked up his bitter tears. It was hot and stuffy to have his face pressed so deep into the cloth, but Sean didn't want the old priest to hear.
What he did not know, however, was that it was already too late.
"What is it, my son?" a familiar voice asked him softly. An old, gnarled hand laid itself gently on the boy's shoulder.
Sean took a shuddering breath and pulled the blanket away from his face. It was too late to pretend he hadn't been crying. He looked up into Father Mark's kind, compassionate face and tried to articulate the heavy feeling in his chest. But his leaden heart had not even been explained to himself yet, and he found no words to describe the feeling in his chest. "I...don't know why," he finally mumbled, his voice palpitating with his sobs. Sitting up, Sean tried to wipe his eyes, but more tears spilled out. "I'm...sorry, Father. I didn't...mean to-" His voice broke with a sob.
Father Mark's knobbly hands pulled Sean's away from his face and folded them together. "'Blessed are those who mourn,'" he quoted, "'for they shall be comforted.'"
"Hello-o! I'm talking to you!" A singsong voice brought Shard back to the present.
"What?" Shard asked, blinking dazedly at the yellow eyes that had been pressed right in front of his face.
"And here I thought you'd gone deaf!" Shynael nudged Shard just hard enough so that he fell over. "It's not polite to not even listen to someone when they're talking to you!"
"Sorry, Shynael," Shard said, picking himself up from the ground. "What were you saying?"
Shynael rolled his eyes. "I was saying, let's make camp!"
"You're not going to fly anymore?" Shard asked in surprise. It was still only late afternoon, and before it had been all Shard could do to get Shynael to come down before it grew dark. This had brought about a few minor injuries when Shynael had attempted landing in a thicket of trees, but even that incident wasn't enough to dampen his fervor for flying.
"It's kinda lonely up there, you know. I can't exactly have a lengthy conversation with the birds. Speaking of which, here's supper." He nudged a pheasant towards Shard.
Shard appreciated Shynael's company more than usual that night, as he prepared his meal. Shynael always ate his meat without any preparation ("My mother said we dragons have a very powerful digestive system."), but always waited until Shard was ready before devouring his meal. He chattered away about his adventures up in the sky that day, about the five species of birds he could identify from what his mother had told him, about the legendary Kaelandi, a white dragon who had set the record for the longest time spent aloft. Shard listened to him, amused but very grateful to have someone like Shynael to keep him company. As he turned the meat over the fire, his eyes burned momentarily, but he passed it off as the smoke blowing towards him.
Shynael grew quiet as they ate, gazing contemplatively into their little campfire.
"What are you thinking about?" Shard asked.
Shynael glanced over at him, then returned his attention to the dancing flames. "I was just thinking...about my mother. You know, I...I never really knew her. Did you get to know her at all before...well...."
Shard stopped what he was doing. He couldn't say that he hadn't expected this; it was a natural thing for someone in Shynael's position to ask. "No...." he said at last. "She...only had time to give me your egg, before...."
"Oh."
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Finally, Shynael murmured, "I...never got to know her. Sure, she talked to me and everything, but...I never got to say anything back. I never even got to see her...."
Shard remembered what had become of the great dragon's corpse, and promised himself he would never tell Shynael.
"What did she look like?" Shynael asked quietly.
Shard tried to remember the dragon through the haze of panic he had felt. "She had grey scales, and...she seemed very strong. She looked old, but...." He remembered the vision he had had, the vision of a silver-haired woman. "She was beautiful."
"Okay," Shynael whispered.
After a few moments of silence, Shard heard something that almost sounded like a dog whining, only lower-pitched. He looked over at Shynael and saw that the dragon's eyes were closed, his head resting on his foreclaws. As Shard watched, a sparkling tear slid down the scales of his face and fell, steaming, onto the ground with a soft hiss.
Shard wasn't sure what to do. Did Shynael want to be left alone, or did he need to be comforted? Most likely, whatever Shard did to try to help would turn out wrong. But to do nothing would make it seem that he didn't care.
"I lost my mother too," he finally said.
"You did?" Shynael whispered in astonishment, opening his eyes again.
Shard nodded, not looking at his friend. "I was about four, so I can't really remember that much. She died, and I don't even remember what she looked like. All I can remember is the way she smelled. I can't describe the way she smelled, because I've never smelled anything like her.
"Because I never knew her, you'd think I wouldn't be able to miss her. But I do." He closed his eyes, hoping to keep back the tears that had begun to sting at his eyeballs. "It's like a gaping hole in my chest," he whispered. "To not have a mother...is like not having a heart." He took a deep breath and continued, "After she died, my father gave me up to the church, and I never saw him again. He was killed in an accident about a year after my mother. I can't remember him either. Just a big black beard, and the way he put his hand on my head when he left me with Father Mark."
"I'm sorry," Shynael murmured shakily, another couple of tears splashing onto the ground.
Shard reached over and rubbed Shynael on his favorite place: the small, smooth scales on top of his long snout. But for some reason, this only made Shard's throat constrict tightly. He picked up Shynael's large head and hugged it close to his heart. Shynael's long neck wrapped around Shard, encasing him in a warm dragon embrace. Shynael's tears dripped off the end of his nose, dropping onto one of Shard's hands. The tears were scalding, like boiling water, but Shard didn't move his hand. He only felt the sobs running up Shynael's neck, and cried tears of his own.
Shard's eyes burned and burned, and not even the flood of his tears could quench their fires. Indeed, he almost imagined that the tears he shed let up a wisp of steam and a hiss as they dropped onto Shynael's scales.
"Here I go!" Shynael whooped, running forward and flapping his wings madly. He leapt into the air, and his wings pushed him upwards.
Shard called out encouragement to him until the dragon was out of earshot. Over the last week, Shynael had become better and better at flying; he could now take off from the ground and land without tripping over his own wings and tail. Shard sat down to watch his friend make loops and figure-eights through the air. He loved watching the dragon fly, and was very glad that Shynael had learned how. All the same, when Shynael had taken off to go soaring about, free of all restraint, Shard began to feel...lonely. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but the feeling became stronger each time. He was sure that Shynael would always return to him, but in the hours of silence, Shard began to miss Shynael's incessant remarks about his mother, or his teasing comments, or his playful shouts during their games.
Sometimes Shard had been lonely in the village as well. After Father Mark had taken it upon himself to care for him, Shard's playmates had slowly drifted away from him. It wasn't intentional; Father Mark had never kept Shard from going out to play with the other children. It just...happened. Perhaps Shard had felt different from the others once he moved into the church. Maybe Father Mark's daily teachings had separated him from his fellows. Few of them had ever learned to read, but Father Mark had taken special care to teach him his letters. Father Mark had become his main companion, but the old priest was more of a mentor than an equal. Shard realized that he had been lonely for the majority of his life.
One day, when Sean had been about seven years old, he lay face-down on his cot in the little room adjacent to Father Mark's, his face buried into the thin blanket. The cloth muffled his soft, whimpering sobs and soaked up his bitter tears. It was hot and stuffy to have his face pressed so deep into the cloth, but Sean didn't want the old priest to hear.
What he did not know, however, was that it was already too late.
"What is it, my son?" a familiar voice asked him softly. An old, gnarled hand laid itself gently on the boy's shoulder.
Sean took a shuddering breath and pulled the blanket away from his face. It was too late to pretend he hadn't been crying. He looked up into Father Mark's kind, compassionate face and tried to articulate the heavy feeling in his chest. But his leaden heart had not even been explained to himself yet, and he found no words to describe the feeling in his chest. "I...don't know why," he finally mumbled, his voice palpitating with his sobs. Sitting up, Sean tried to wipe his eyes, but more tears spilled out. "I'm...sorry, Father. I didn't...mean to-" His voice broke with a sob.
Father Mark's knobbly hands pulled Sean's away from his face and folded them together. "'Blessed are those who mourn,'" he quoted, "'for they shall be comforted.'"
"Hello-o! I'm talking to you!" A singsong voice brought Shard back to the present.
"What?" Shard asked, blinking dazedly at the yellow eyes that had been pressed right in front of his face.
"And here I thought you'd gone deaf!" Shynael nudged Shard just hard enough so that he fell over. "It's not polite to not even listen to someone when they're talking to you!"
"Sorry, Shynael," Shard said, picking himself up from the ground. "What were you saying?"
Shynael rolled his eyes. "I was saying, let's make camp!"
"You're not going to fly anymore?" Shard asked in surprise. It was still only late afternoon, and before it had been all Shard could do to get Shynael to come down before it grew dark. This had brought about a few minor injuries when Shynael had attempted landing in a thicket of trees, but even that incident wasn't enough to dampen his fervor for flying.
"It's kinda lonely up there, you know. I can't exactly have a lengthy conversation with the birds. Speaking of which, here's supper." He nudged a pheasant towards Shard.
Shard appreciated Shynael's company more than usual that night, as he prepared his meal. Shynael always ate his meat without any preparation ("My mother said we dragons have a very powerful digestive system."), but always waited until Shard was ready before devouring his meal. He chattered away about his adventures up in the sky that day, about the five species of birds he could identify from what his mother had told him, about the legendary Kaelandi, a white dragon who had set the record for the longest time spent aloft. Shard listened to him, amused but very grateful to have someone like Shynael to keep him company. As he turned the meat over the fire, his eyes burned momentarily, but he passed it off as the smoke blowing towards him.
Shynael grew quiet as they ate, gazing contemplatively into their little campfire.
"What are you thinking about?" Shard asked.
Shynael glanced over at him, then returned his attention to the dancing flames. "I was just thinking...about my mother. You know, I...I never really knew her. Did you get to know her at all before...well...."
Shard stopped what he was doing. He couldn't say that he hadn't expected this; it was a natural thing for someone in Shynael's position to ask. "No...." he said at last. "She...only had time to give me your egg, before...."
"Oh."
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Finally, Shynael murmured, "I...never got to know her. Sure, she talked to me and everything, but...I never got to say anything back. I never even got to see her...."
Shard remembered what had become of the great dragon's corpse, and promised himself he would never tell Shynael.
"What did she look like?" Shynael asked quietly.
Shard tried to remember the dragon through the haze of panic he had felt. "She had grey scales, and...she seemed very strong. She looked old, but...." He remembered the vision he had had, the vision of a silver-haired woman. "She was beautiful."
"Okay," Shynael whispered.
After a few moments of silence, Shard heard something that almost sounded like a dog whining, only lower-pitched. He looked over at Shynael and saw that the dragon's eyes were closed, his head resting on his foreclaws. As Shard watched, a sparkling tear slid down the scales of his face and fell, steaming, onto the ground with a soft hiss.
Shard wasn't sure what to do. Did Shynael want to be left alone, or did he need to be comforted? Most likely, whatever Shard did to try to help would turn out wrong. But to do nothing would make it seem that he didn't care.
"I lost my mother too," he finally said.
"You did?" Shynael whispered in astonishment, opening his eyes again.
Shard nodded, not looking at his friend. "I was about four, so I can't really remember that much. She died, and I don't even remember what she looked like. All I can remember is the way she smelled. I can't describe the way she smelled, because I've never smelled anything like her.
"Because I never knew her, you'd think I wouldn't be able to miss her. But I do." He closed his eyes, hoping to keep back the tears that had begun to sting at his eyeballs. "It's like a gaping hole in my chest," he whispered. "To not have a mother...is like not having a heart." He took a deep breath and continued, "After she died, my father gave me up to the church, and I never saw him again. He was killed in an accident about a year after my mother. I can't remember him either. Just a big black beard, and the way he put his hand on my head when he left me with Father Mark."
"I'm sorry," Shynael murmured shakily, another couple of tears splashing onto the ground.
Shard reached over and rubbed Shynael on his favorite place: the small, smooth scales on top of his long snout. But for some reason, this only made Shard's throat constrict tightly. He picked up Shynael's large head and hugged it close to his heart. Shynael's long neck wrapped around Shard, encasing him in a warm dragon embrace. Shynael's tears dripped off the end of his nose, dropping onto one of Shard's hands. The tears were scalding, like boiling water, but Shard didn't move his hand. He only felt the sobs running up Shynael's neck, and cried tears of his own.
Shard's eyes burned and burned, and not even the flood of his tears could quench their fires. Indeed, he almost imagined that the tears he shed let up a wisp of steam and a hiss as they dropped onto Shynael's scales.
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
It's kinda lonely up there, you know.
I thought it was cool that Shynael mirrored Shard's thoughts while the dragon was airborne.
It was interesting to hear a little more about Shard's previous life, and see how he and Shynael had similar experiences of loss. And I liked the hints of the change in Shard...
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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kryptech - Posts: 393
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 1:18 pm
- Location: GTA
The sentiment works very well. In this section they truly seem to reach the connection they've needed all along. Very nice. I have but one comment....
One day.... That first transitional sentence sounds a bit too objective, whereas the narration has been very subjective so far. It should sound more like a memory, because that's what it is. But I really like this section as a whole. Excellent job!
One day, when Sean had been about seven years old, he lay face-down on his cot in the little room adjacent to Father Mark's, his face buried into the thin blanket. The cloth muffled his soft, whimpering sobs and soaked up his bitter tears. It was hot and stuffy to have his face pressed so deep into the cloth, but Sean didn't want the old priest to hear.
One day.... That first transitional sentence sounds a bit too objective, whereas the narration has been very subjective so far. It should sound more like a memory, because that's what it is. But I really like this section as a whole. Excellent job!
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
kryptech - Thanks for your comments! I was trying to go for a parallel between Shard and Shynael; that might actually be one of the themes of the story. We'll see.
Eso - Thank you for your critiques! How do you think I should have written it to make the memory more subjective?
Eso - Thank you for your critiques! How do you think I should have written it to make the memory more subjective?
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Sean lay face-down on his cot in the little room adjacent to Father Mark's, his face buried into the thin blanket. The cloth muffled his soft, whimpering sobs and soaked up his bitter tears. It felt hot and stuffy to have his face pressed so deep into the cloth, but he didn't want the old priest to hear.
"What is it, my son?" a familiar voice asked him softly. It was already too late. An old, gnarled hand laid itself gently on the boy's small shoulder. etc...
Just cutting off that opening does wonders for it. We don't need to be expressly told that Sean is seven years old. Simply adding descriptive words like small, young, tiny, will clue the reader that this happened when Sean was very young.
"What is it, my son?" a familiar voice asked him softly. It was already too late. An old, gnarled hand laid itself gently on the boy's small shoulder. etc...
Just cutting off that opening does wonders for it. We don't need to be expressly told that Sean is seven years old. Simply adding descriptive words like small, young, tiny, will clue the reader that this happened when Sean was very young.
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
Great! I'll make note of that. The next section might be a while in coming; I've been rather busy lately and haven't even thought of what will come next. And I'm anticipating being even busier in a couple weeks, so...the wait might be long - but hopefully worth it!
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Author's Note: I am SO sorry, you guys! I've been incredibly busy lately, with little time to sit down and write any more of this. When I write a new section, I like to write it in one or two sittings, and I just haven't had time for a while to do that. But finally, I've managed to write up the next section! It's quite long, so I hope that compensates somewhat for the long delay in updating. 
"You want a ride or something?"
Shard looked up in surprise. "What?"
Shynael shuffled his wings uncomfortably. "We're walking so slowly! Your legs are so short, and I can't walk that slow!"
"Well, I beg your pardon, O Great Dragon, but there's not much I can do about that!"
"Yes there is," Shynael retorted. "Climb up onto my back, and I'll show you some speed!"
Shard hesitated.
"What's the matter?" Shynael wanted to know.
"Well...I don't want it to seem that you're a...." Shard trailed off, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"A what?" Shynael pressed.
"A...A pack horse," Shard mumbled.
Shynael stopped altogether and threw his head high into the air, uttering a strange gutteral cry, almost like his purring but much higher pitched. Shard suddenly realized that he was laughing. "What's so funny?!" he demanded.
"Me, a pack horse?!" Shynael cried, trilling a little as he spoke. "Just try and tell that to anybody else! A pack horse!"
"All right, all right, I get the point!" Shard said irritably. "If you sit still, I'll climb on!"
Shynael immediately sobered and lay down, lowering his head and flattening his wings down to allow Shard to climb up. Shard carefully stepped onto the joint of Shynael's wing, hoping he wasn't hurting the dragon. Shynael had grown so large by now that the top of his back was taller than Shard, even when he was lying down. Shard carefully balanced himself on one foot, reaching over for the nearest spike on Shynael's neck.
All of a sudden, Shynael's wing jerked upwards and Shard found himself sailing through the air, landing heavily on Shynael's back, right in the small dent where his neck connected to his body. Heart pounding loudly, Shard gripped a neck spike and cried, "What're you doing, trying to kill me?!"
"You weren't getting on fast enough," Shynael trilled, standing up and folding his wings back against his body. "Right then. Here we – go!" Before Shard was even half ready, Shynael shot forwards, bounding across the hills with the speed of a galloping horse.
Shard let out a cry of terror and threw his arms around Shynael's neck, hanging on for dear life. Shynael's strong muscles strained underneath him, and he bobbed up and down like a cork in a tub of water. Several times, when Shynael leapt over a particularly large hill, Shard thought he was about to sail right off the dragon's back. "You don't have to go so fast!" he yelled over the rush of wind in his ears.
Shynael merely laughed his strange dragon laugh. "You won't fall off; I won't let you!"
Shard glanced behind him and saw Shynael's wings slightly raised above his back, their tips meeting to make a sort of basket. Feeling only slightly safer, Shard held on tighter to Shynael's neck, clutching with his knees as well. He had never ridden a horse, but had heard that one was supposed to hold on with one's knees.
After a while, Shynael called back, "Don't be so tense! Enjoy the ride, you scaredy-bird!"
Not enjoying the experience of being called a 'scaredy-bird,' Shard loosened his hold on Shynael's neck somewhat. Come to think of it, there was a certain rhythm to Shynael's bounding and lurching. He experimentally let go of Shynael with his arms, prepared to clutch the great black neck again in an instant. But he had grown accustomed to the rocking of Shynael's gait, and found he could keep his balance reasonably well. Feeling suddenly daring, he let go with his knees as well. Gripping Shynael's neck spikes to keep his balance, Shard slowly stood up on Shynael's heaving shoulders. The bobbing was more wild up there, but he could feel the wind rushing through his hair, which had grown a bit long and shaggy over the time he had been in the wilderness.
Shard's body moved with Shynael's, till they seemed to be the same creature. He had no fear of falling now, only the fierce pleasure of wind running through his hair and the ground slipping past beneath them. Shard let go of the neck spikes he was clutching and held his arms out like wings. The wind whipped around them, and in that moment Shard thought he had a taste of what flying was like. Shard tipped back his head and let out a whoop of joy, so wild and happy it sounded like a scream. Shynael chimed in with a gleeful roar.
"You want a ride or something?"
Shard looked up in surprise. "What?"
Shynael shuffled his wings uncomfortably. "We're walking so slowly! Your legs are so short, and I can't walk that slow!"
"Well, I beg your pardon, O Great Dragon, but there's not much I can do about that!"
"Yes there is," Shynael retorted. "Climb up onto my back, and I'll show you some speed!"
Shard hesitated.
"What's the matter?" Shynael wanted to know.
"Well...I don't want it to seem that you're a...." Shard trailed off, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"A what?" Shynael pressed.
"A...A pack horse," Shard mumbled.
Shynael stopped altogether and threw his head high into the air, uttering a strange gutteral cry, almost like his purring but much higher pitched. Shard suddenly realized that he was laughing. "What's so funny?!" he demanded.
"Me, a pack horse?!" Shynael cried, trilling a little as he spoke. "Just try and tell that to anybody else! A pack horse!"
"All right, all right, I get the point!" Shard said irritably. "If you sit still, I'll climb on!"
Shynael immediately sobered and lay down, lowering his head and flattening his wings down to allow Shard to climb up. Shard carefully stepped onto the joint of Shynael's wing, hoping he wasn't hurting the dragon. Shynael had grown so large by now that the top of his back was taller than Shard, even when he was lying down. Shard carefully balanced himself on one foot, reaching over for the nearest spike on Shynael's neck.
All of a sudden, Shynael's wing jerked upwards and Shard found himself sailing through the air, landing heavily on Shynael's back, right in the small dent where his neck connected to his body. Heart pounding loudly, Shard gripped a neck spike and cried, "What're you doing, trying to kill me?!"
"You weren't getting on fast enough," Shynael trilled, standing up and folding his wings back against his body. "Right then. Here we – go!" Before Shard was even half ready, Shynael shot forwards, bounding across the hills with the speed of a galloping horse.
Shard let out a cry of terror and threw his arms around Shynael's neck, hanging on for dear life. Shynael's strong muscles strained underneath him, and he bobbed up and down like a cork in a tub of water. Several times, when Shynael leapt over a particularly large hill, Shard thought he was about to sail right off the dragon's back. "You don't have to go so fast!" he yelled over the rush of wind in his ears.
Shynael merely laughed his strange dragon laugh. "You won't fall off; I won't let you!"
Shard glanced behind him and saw Shynael's wings slightly raised above his back, their tips meeting to make a sort of basket. Feeling only slightly safer, Shard held on tighter to Shynael's neck, clutching with his knees as well. He had never ridden a horse, but had heard that one was supposed to hold on with one's knees.
After a while, Shynael called back, "Don't be so tense! Enjoy the ride, you scaredy-bird!"
Not enjoying the experience of being called a 'scaredy-bird,' Shard loosened his hold on Shynael's neck somewhat. Come to think of it, there was a certain rhythm to Shynael's bounding and lurching. He experimentally let go of Shynael with his arms, prepared to clutch the great black neck again in an instant. But he had grown accustomed to the rocking of Shynael's gait, and found he could keep his balance reasonably well. Feeling suddenly daring, he let go with his knees as well. Gripping Shynael's neck spikes to keep his balance, Shard slowly stood up on Shynael's heaving shoulders. The bobbing was more wild up there, but he could feel the wind rushing through his hair, which had grown a bit long and shaggy over the time he had been in the wilderness.
Shard's body moved with Shynael's, till they seemed to be the same creature. He had no fear of falling now, only the fierce pleasure of wind running through his hair and the ground slipping past beneath them. Shard let go of the neck spikes he was clutching and held his arms out like wings. The wind whipped around them, and in that moment Shard thought he had a taste of what flying was like. Shard tipped back his head and let out a whoop of joy, so wild and happy it sounded like a scream. Shynael chimed in with a gleeful roar.
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
The wonderful ride ended abruptly as Shynael skidded to a halt, digging his feet into the ground. Shard, caught by surprise, tumbled backwards and slid on his stomach almost all the way to Shynael's tail. "What did you do that for?!" Shard demanded furiously as he scrambled back to a sitting position and scrambled across Shynael's back.
The word that Shynael spoke sent shivers down Shard's spine. "Humans."
"Where?" Shard murmured softly, having reached Shynael's neck again.
Shynael nudged the air to their right with his nose, and Shard looked to see several figures on horses on a nearby hill. They were hard to make out clearly, for the sun was setting just behind them, but any sign of humans was bad news. It had been a very long time since the incident with the dragon hunters, and Shard had been away from humans for so long that he realized he had nearly forgotten any still existed in the world besides himself.
One of the figures on horseback motioned to the others, and the horses trotted forwards. Shard quickly counted five riders, and gripped Shynael's neck spike nervously. As the riders drew closer, he saw that they were men, and his heart sank when he saw that they were armed. Even worse, they were clad in shining suits of armor, complete with visored helmets.
Knights.
"There's the brute, men!" cried a knight, whose pure white horse was in the lead. "May God bring us victory!"
"What are you doing?!" Shard cried, more from horror than confusion, as he saw the five knights draw their swords.
"'Tis our solemn duty to slay dragons," said the leader, "and save damsels in distress." He made a slight bow from his saddle. "Sir Caleb is not a man shy of a little adventure!"
"Damsel in...." Suddenly, Shard realized what this Sir Caleb meant, and his face became as hot as Shynael's breath. He reached up with one hand and numbly felt his hair, which now fell about his shoulders, somewhat unkempt and windswept, and fervently wished he had thought to cut it at some point.
"What do they want?" Shynael asked in confusion, turning his head to look at Shard.
Shard abruptly understood something he should have realized long ago, and was very conscious of the guttural, almost snarling words he spoke as he said to Shynael, "They think I'm a-"
But suddenly he was distracted, for a couple of the knights had covered their ears. "What hideous noises!" cried one. "Sir Caleb, let us be rid of this accursed demon!"
"Indeed!" Sir Caleb cried. "To arms, men, and keep thy courage about thee!"
Shynael, obviously confused as to who or what these humans were, roared with surprise as the five knights spurred their horses forward, brandishing their swords. The horses reared up in fright, neighing in terror, when they heard Shynael, and three of the knights fell off their horses. The remaining two, Sir Caleb included, managed to stay seated long enough to dismount a little more gracefully. The terrified horses bolted away over the hill, but the knights stood their ground.
"Hold on, lass!" Sir Caleb called. "We'll have you rescued in no time!"
"But I'm not-" Shard started to say, but just then Shynael reared up and he found himself tumbling backwards again. This time, he rolled off Shynael's side and onto the soft grass. He hastily picked himself up again in time to see Shynael towering above the cowering knights, roaring, spreading his wings, and showing all of his many teeth. There was a glint in his yellow eyes that Shard had never seen before, and for some reason it frightened him.
The knights jabbed feints at Shynael, who snapped and snarled at them, daring them to come any closer. None of them seemed prepared to risk it. Suddenly, one of the knights broke away from their little group and began to edge over towards Shard. Not sure what to do, Shard remained frozen where he was and watched the knight advancing surreptitiously towards him.
When the knight was several feet away, and turned his helmeted head to Shard, Shynael suddenly let out a roar that made even Shard's heart leap into his throat. The black dragon swung around, snarling and even foaming at the mouth, like some bizarrely oversized watchdog. His eyes practically glowed with hatred and fury, so fierce that Shard cowered even though Shynael wasn't looking at him. Shynael's front claws swiped down out of nowhere, throwing the knight to the ground and holding him there. Shynael slowly put more and more pressure on the still, metal-encased man; Shard could actually hear bones cracking and splintering beneath the armor.
"Shynael!" he cried in horror. "Stop; you're killing him!"
Shynael immediately jerked back, the fire gone from his eyes but his mouth still snarling with anger. "Shard!" he cried. "Get on my back again, and let's-"
He suddenly broke off with a pained shriek, and Shard whipped his gaze over to Shynael's left wing. Sir Caleb pulled his sword back out of the leathery wing, and Shynael howled again. Shard's eyes were glued to the dark red blood that now stained Sir Caleb's sword. The deep crimson bled outward from the blade, coloring the entire world till everything seemed to be bathed in blood. Shard could see his own blood pulsing in his eyeballs, and his breathing began to accelerate. All conscious thought fled his mind as if frightened, except for one thought that said in a deep, commanding voice: Kill.
The hot blood pounding in his eyes gushed into his limbs, and Shard sprang into action. He grabbed the sword that the fallen knight had dropped, and charged towards the other knights, letting out a bestial roar. The knights, taken by surprise, did not even have time to lift their swords before he was on them, slashing and jabbing with a weapon he had never held before in his life. The blood pounded faster and faster, directing his arms to slash and his feet to move. Over and over, the voice chanted: Kill, kill, kill.
An arm fell off, severed at the shoulder. A man fell to the ground, clutching a bloody wound that tore through his steel armor. Another dropped at his side, his helmet rent in two and a nasty cut sending blood rushing down his face. Blood splashed all about, onto the ground, onto swords and shields and pieces of armor and bared skin.
Sir Caleb paused on the crest of the hill, taking one last look at the strange battle he had narrowly escaped. There was no doubt about it – the one on the dragon had been cursed by a demon. Sir Caleb turned his horse around and dug his heels into its flanks, galloping away to report.
The word that Shynael spoke sent shivers down Shard's spine. "Humans."
"Where?" Shard murmured softly, having reached Shynael's neck again.
Shynael nudged the air to their right with his nose, and Shard looked to see several figures on horses on a nearby hill. They were hard to make out clearly, for the sun was setting just behind them, but any sign of humans was bad news. It had been a very long time since the incident with the dragon hunters, and Shard had been away from humans for so long that he realized he had nearly forgotten any still existed in the world besides himself.
One of the figures on horseback motioned to the others, and the horses trotted forwards. Shard quickly counted five riders, and gripped Shynael's neck spike nervously. As the riders drew closer, he saw that they were men, and his heart sank when he saw that they were armed. Even worse, they were clad in shining suits of armor, complete with visored helmets.
Knights.
"There's the brute, men!" cried a knight, whose pure white horse was in the lead. "May God bring us victory!"
"What are you doing?!" Shard cried, more from horror than confusion, as he saw the five knights draw their swords.
"'Tis our solemn duty to slay dragons," said the leader, "and save damsels in distress." He made a slight bow from his saddle. "Sir Caleb is not a man shy of a little adventure!"
"Damsel in...." Suddenly, Shard realized what this Sir Caleb meant, and his face became as hot as Shynael's breath. He reached up with one hand and numbly felt his hair, which now fell about his shoulders, somewhat unkempt and windswept, and fervently wished he had thought to cut it at some point.
"What do they want?" Shynael asked in confusion, turning his head to look at Shard.
Shard abruptly understood something he should have realized long ago, and was very conscious of the guttural, almost snarling words he spoke as he said to Shynael, "They think I'm a-"
But suddenly he was distracted, for a couple of the knights had covered their ears. "What hideous noises!" cried one. "Sir Caleb, let us be rid of this accursed demon!"
"Indeed!" Sir Caleb cried. "To arms, men, and keep thy courage about thee!"
Shynael, obviously confused as to who or what these humans were, roared with surprise as the five knights spurred their horses forward, brandishing their swords. The horses reared up in fright, neighing in terror, when they heard Shynael, and three of the knights fell off their horses. The remaining two, Sir Caleb included, managed to stay seated long enough to dismount a little more gracefully. The terrified horses bolted away over the hill, but the knights stood their ground.
"Hold on, lass!" Sir Caleb called. "We'll have you rescued in no time!"
"But I'm not-" Shard started to say, but just then Shynael reared up and he found himself tumbling backwards again. This time, he rolled off Shynael's side and onto the soft grass. He hastily picked himself up again in time to see Shynael towering above the cowering knights, roaring, spreading his wings, and showing all of his many teeth. There was a glint in his yellow eyes that Shard had never seen before, and for some reason it frightened him.
The knights jabbed feints at Shynael, who snapped and snarled at them, daring them to come any closer. None of them seemed prepared to risk it. Suddenly, one of the knights broke away from their little group and began to edge over towards Shard. Not sure what to do, Shard remained frozen where he was and watched the knight advancing surreptitiously towards him.
When the knight was several feet away, and turned his helmeted head to Shard, Shynael suddenly let out a roar that made even Shard's heart leap into his throat. The black dragon swung around, snarling and even foaming at the mouth, like some bizarrely oversized watchdog. His eyes practically glowed with hatred and fury, so fierce that Shard cowered even though Shynael wasn't looking at him. Shynael's front claws swiped down out of nowhere, throwing the knight to the ground and holding him there. Shynael slowly put more and more pressure on the still, metal-encased man; Shard could actually hear bones cracking and splintering beneath the armor.
"Shynael!" he cried in horror. "Stop; you're killing him!"
Shynael immediately jerked back, the fire gone from his eyes but his mouth still snarling with anger. "Shard!" he cried. "Get on my back again, and let's-"
He suddenly broke off with a pained shriek, and Shard whipped his gaze over to Shynael's left wing. Sir Caleb pulled his sword back out of the leathery wing, and Shynael howled again. Shard's eyes were glued to the dark red blood that now stained Sir Caleb's sword. The deep crimson bled outward from the blade, coloring the entire world till everything seemed to be bathed in blood. Shard could see his own blood pulsing in his eyeballs, and his breathing began to accelerate. All conscious thought fled his mind as if frightened, except for one thought that said in a deep, commanding voice: Kill.
The hot blood pounding in his eyes gushed into his limbs, and Shard sprang into action. He grabbed the sword that the fallen knight had dropped, and charged towards the other knights, letting out a bestial roar. The knights, taken by surprise, did not even have time to lift their swords before he was on them, slashing and jabbing with a weapon he had never held before in his life. The blood pounded faster and faster, directing his arms to slash and his feet to move. Over and over, the voice chanted: Kill, kill, kill.
An arm fell off, severed at the shoulder. A man fell to the ground, clutching a bloody wound that tore through his steel armor. Another dropped at his side, his helmet rent in two and a nasty cut sending blood rushing down his face. Blood splashed all about, onto the ground, onto swords and shields and pieces of armor and bared skin.
Sir Caleb paused on the crest of the hill, taking one last look at the strange battle he had narrowly escaped. There was no doubt about it – the one on the dragon had been cursed by a demon. Sir Caleb turned his horse around and dug his heels into its flanks, galloping away to report.
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Shard dropped the sword, taking a horrified step backwards. He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound escaped his throat. Four of the knights that had challenged them now lay in pools of their own blood. They seemed to be alive – one was whimpering and clutching the bloody stump of what had once been his arm, and another was groaning feebly.
Shard looked at his hands, and saw flecks of blood drying on them. He heard his own scream as though it was someone else's, and it was a few minutes before he realized he was running. He raced away from the bloody, injured knights, away from the sword that had cut through their flesh. As far away as I can go, he thought between gasps for breath. The heat, the blood, that terrible voice.... They were chasing him, mocking him for his cowardice. He thought he heard a faint whisper say: You are running away from your problems, foolish coward.
Shard shook his head to clear out such thoughts and ran on. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now. That's right. You're alone. Alone except for.... Shard saw again the bodies strewn to either side and staggered to a halt. "No!" he cried, slumping forward to grip the grass in his hands. "I didn't kill them, I didn't kill them!"
No? They will die if they lose much more blood.
"It wasn't me," Shard sobbed. "I didn't do it!"
It was you, and you know it. You have killed. Taste the blood in your mouth, feel it run over hands, revel in its-
"Shynael!" Shard screamed desperately, jerking upright again and uprooting the grass in his hands. "Shynael, help!"
The voice was laughing in his ears, drowning out his screams, when suddenly a deafening roar broke through. "What is it, Shard?" Shynael bellowed, loping up behind him.
Sweating and shaking, Shard realized that the voice had fallen silent. He staggered to his feet as Shynael neared him. "We have to go back, Shynael," he said, his voice wobbling dangerously.
"What?" Shynael panted. "Why?!"
"They'll die if we don't!"
A stony expression Shard had never seen before came over Shynael's features. "Let them," he said bitterly. "They almost killed you, and me as well."
"Shynael," Shard said sternly, his voice strengthening with resolve.
The dragon glared back at him, but Shard neither blinked nor looked away. Finally, Shynael said reluctantly, "All right, then. Get on my back."
As Shard hoisted himself up onto Shynael's back, he noticed the large, bloody wound in Shynael's wing. "Your wing!" he exclaimed.
Shynael snorted and started back for the fallen knights. "Don't worry about that. My mother told me humans heal much slower than dragons. It'll be better in no time."
This time, Shynael did not bound eagerly forward, and Shard did not stand up to feel the wind in his hair. They made their solemn way to the hill with the four knights, and when they had reached the blood-soaked ground, Shard slid off Shynael's back. With a little hunting, he found the pack he had discarded in the heat of the battle, and rooted around inside it for the healing instruments Father Mark had provided him with.
The next hour was very tiring. Shard had little experience in tending to wounds, but he did his best. Father Mark had taught him how to bind a cut in clean linen, so he was able to at least stem the flow of blood. Shard wasn't quite sure what to do about the knight Shynael had nearly crushed to death; his armor had been bent in such a way that Shard could not remove it. He decided to leave the man as he was, and proceeded to build a large bonfire on top of the hill with wood that Shynael went to fetch. The smoke from the fire towered high into the air, and Shard was confident that if there were any other humans nearby, they would see it.
His work finished, Shard climbed onto Shynael's back again. As they set off once more, Shard watched over his shoulder until the knights were out of sight. His heart was heavy with guilt, but what more could he do? If the knights survived, they would surely tell their tale of how a child had been captured by a dragon and turned wild.
"They thought I was a 'she,'" Shard told his friend.
Shynael trilled a little, but it was a feeble attempt.
That night, after they had put some distance between them and the knights, Shard said something that had been bothering him for hours. "I couldn't control myself, Shynael," he said softly, hugging his knees to his chest and staring into their little campfire. "When they hurt you...I became so angry that...I just wanted to kill them all."
"My mother called it the 'dragonrage,'" Shynael said, gazing into the flames as well. "Sometimes, she said, you become so angry that you can hardly even tell what you're doing. She said it's because your heart becomes so hot that your blood starts to boil, and your instincts take over." He hesitated, then continued, "I experienced it for the first time today. When I saw that one man next to you...." He shuddered slightly.
Shard looked over at Shynael in surprise. He hadn't realized how frightened Shynael must have been, but now he could almost smell the fear radiating from his friend. He imagined what the battle must have been like for Shynael. Unable to understand what the knights said, he must have been terrified when they advanced.
But there was one more thing tugging at his mind, that wouldn't leave him alone. "I felt...strange," Shard said. "Almost as though...there was someone else inside me. They were telling me...to kill...and I...listened to them." Shard suddenly realized he was shivering violently, though he didn't feel cold. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead on his knees. "What's happening to me, Shynael?" he asked in a whisper. "Am I...turning into a monster?"
Shynael was suddenly at his side, wrapping his long neck about the trembling ball that was Shard, enveloping them both with his one good wing. "Not a monster," he said, and Shard could feel the vibrations of his voice. "You're turning into a dragon. Maybe you're just finding the change difficult."
"But...." Shard mumbled, "I don't...want to be a dragon...." He couldn't stop shivering, not even with the dragon's considerable body heat all around him.
Shynael began to purr. "Don't worry, Shard," he rumbled softly. "I'm here to protect you."
Shard looked at his hands, and saw flecks of blood drying on them. He heard his own scream as though it was someone else's, and it was a few minutes before he realized he was running. He raced away from the bloody, injured knights, away from the sword that had cut through their flesh. As far away as I can go, he thought between gasps for breath. The heat, the blood, that terrible voice.... They were chasing him, mocking him for his cowardice. He thought he heard a faint whisper say: You are running away from your problems, foolish coward.
Shard shook his head to clear out such thoughts and ran on. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now. That's right. You're alone. Alone except for.... Shard saw again the bodies strewn to either side and staggered to a halt. "No!" he cried, slumping forward to grip the grass in his hands. "I didn't kill them, I didn't kill them!"
No? They will die if they lose much more blood.
"It wasn't me," Shard sobbed. "I didn't do it!"
It was you, and you know it. You have killed. Taste the blood in your mouth, feel it run over hands, revel in its-
"Shynael!" Shard screamed desperately, jerking upright again and uprooting the grass in his hands. "Shynael, help!"
The voice was laughing in his ears, drowning out his screams, when suddenly a deafening roar broke through. "What is it, Shard?" Shynael bellowed, loping up behind him.
Sweating and shaking, Shard realized that the voice had fallen silent. He staggered to his feet as Shynael neared him. "We have to go back, Shynael," he said, his voice wobbling dangerously.
"What?" Shynael panted. "Why?!"
"They'll die if we don't!"
A stony expression Shard had never seen before came over Shynael's features. "Let them," he said bitterly. "They almost killed you, and me as well."
"Shynael," Shard said sternly, his voice strengthening with resolve.
The dragon glared back at him, but Shard neither blinked nor looked away. Finally, Shynael said reluctantly, "All right, then. Get on my back."
As Shard hoisted himself up onto Shynael's back, he noticed the large, bloody wound in Shynael's wing. "Your wing!" he exclaimed.
Shynael snorted and started back for the fallen knights. "Don't worry about that. My mother told me humans heal much slower than dragons. It'll be better in no time."
This time, Shynael did not bound eagerly forward, and Shard did not stand up to feel the wind in his hair. They made their solemn way to the hill with the four knights, and when they had reached the blood-soaked ground, Shard slid off Shynael's back. With a little hunting, he found the pack he had discarded in the heat of the battle, and rooted around inside it for the healing instruments Father Mark had provided him with.
The next hour was very tiring. Shard had little experience in tending to wounds, but he did his best. Father Mark had taught him how to bind a cut in clean linen, so he was able to at least stem the flow of blood. Shard wasn't quite sure what to do about the knight Shynael had nearly crushed to death; his armor had been bent in such a way that Shard could not remove it. He decided to leave the man as he was, and proceeded to build a large bonfire on top of the hill with wood that Shynael went to fetch. The smoke from the fire towered high into the air, and Shard was confident that if there were any other humans nearby, they would see it.
His work finished, Shard climbed onto Shynael's back again. As they set off once more, Shard watched over his shoulder until the knights were out of sight. His heart was heavy with guilt, but what more could he do? If the knights survived, they would surely tell their tale of how a child had been captured by a dragon and turned wild.
"They thought I was a 'she,'" Shard told his friend.
Shynael trilled a little, but it was a feeble attempt.
That night, after they had put some distance between them and the knights, Shard said something that had been bothering him for hours. "I couldn't control myself, Shynael," he said softly, hugging his knees to his chest and staring into their little campfire. "When they hurt you...I became so angry that...I just wanted to kill them all."
"My mother called it the 'dragonrage,'" Shynael said, gazing into the flames as well. "Sometimes, she said, you become so angry that you can hardly even tell what you're doing. She said it's because your heart becomes so hot that your blood starts to boil, and your instincts take over." He hesitated, then continued, "I experienced it for the first time today. When I saw that one man next to you...." He shuddered slightly.
Shard looked over at Shynael in surprise. He hadn't realized how frightened Shynael must have been, but now he could almost smell the fear radiating from his friend. He imagined what the battle must have been like for Shynael. Unable to understand what the knights said, he must have been terrified when they advanced.
But there was one more thing tugging at his mind, that wouldn't leave him alone. "I felt...strange," Shard said. "Almost as though...there was someone else inside me. They were telling me...to kill...and I...listened to them." Shard suddenly realized he was shivering violently, though he didn't feel cold. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead on his knees. "What's happening to me, Shynael?" he asked in a whisper. "Am I...turning into a monster?"
Shynael was suddenly at his side, wrapping his long neck about the trembling ball that was Shard, enveloping them both with his one good wing. "Not a monster," he said, and Shard could feel the vibrations of his voice. "You're turning into a dragon. Maybe you're just finding the change difficult."
"But...." Shard mumbled, "I don't...want to be a dragon...." He couldn't stop shivering, not even with the dragon's considerable body heat all around him.
Shynael began to purr. "Don't worry, Shard," he rumbled softly. "I'm here to protect you."
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Glad to see you're back! ^^
Hehe, it was funny when the knights thought Shard was a girl. Wow, I wonder what was talking to Shard...I feel sorry for him.
Good job so far ^^
Hehe, it was funny when the knights thought Shard was a girl. Wow, I wonder what was talking to Shard...I feel sorry for him.
Good job so far ^^
[color=purple][font=Tahoma][color=royalblue]"But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."--[/color]Isaiah 40:31
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~darkelfgirl~ - Posts: 720
- Joined: Mon Jun 04, 2007 2:01 pm
- Location: In the depths of your feeble mind!
The joke about Shard being mistaken for a "damsel in distress" is one I've been wanting to put in for a very long time. When I started writing this last section, I was expecting it all to be light and humorous, with just a little battle that would sort of shake Shard up a bit. But when I actually wrote it, it changed drastically. That kind of thing seems to be happening quite a bit with this story.
And the voice speaking to Shard is possibly my second-favorite part of this story (my first being Shynael, in all his sarcastic, cuddly glory ^_^). I'm glad you liked it!
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Well, well, you certainly have been busy! All right, brace yourself for some intense critiquing...
I really like the first part, with Shard getting a ride and being called a scaredy-bird. It's true to Shynael's character to tease him in that way and have Shard respond irritably.
Knowing that humans are bad news, I was a little surprised that they just stood there and let the knights approach. I should think Shard would be telling Shynael to flying them out of there in a jiffy. Granted, I if they had run, you wouldn't have had a conflict. Still, I could find the set up a little more 'natural' if they basically come running around a blind corner and bam!--the knights are right there, both parties shocked. They might even fall off their horses right then and there while Shynael and Shard skid to a halt. But it's just a thought.
It seems the other knight is calling Shard a demon because of the sounds he's making. Yet, Caleb doesn't seem to retract his notion of rescuing Shard at this point. I dunno, maybe the dialogue could us some tweaking.
The description here is somewhat conflictive, and the intent of the knight somewhat vague. Is he coming "suddenly", or "surreptitiously"? Is he coming to attack Shard or pull him(her XD) out of harms way?
But do like how Shynael 'stomps' the knight; that seemed very dragon-like if you know what I mean.
Okay, as for the battle in general...hmm, where to begin. Eh, I'll just PM you about this part....
Oh, but I also forgot to mention, I like Shynael's trill of a laugh. It's a great way to describe it...I can actually hear him laughing very clearly, even the half-heated trill at the end...very nice!
I really like the first part, with Shard getting a ride and being called a scaredy-bird. It's true to Shynael's character to tease him in that way and have Shard respond irritably.
Shynael nudged the air to their right with his nose, and Shard looked to see several figures on horses on a nearby hill. They were hard to make out clearly, for the sun was setting just behind them, but any sign of humans was bad news. It had been a very long time since the incident with the dragon hunters, and Shard had been away from humans for so long that he realized he had nearly forgotten any still existed in the world besides himself.
Knowing that humans are bad news, I was a little surprised that they just stood there and let the knights approach. I should think Shard would be telling Shynael to flying them out of there in a jiffy. Granted, I if they had run, you wouldn't have had a conflict. Still, I could find the set up a little more 'natural' if they basically come running around a blind corner and bam!--the knights are right there, both parties shocked. They might even fall off their horses right then and there while Shynael and Shard skid to a halt. But it's just a thought.
Shard abruptly understood something he should have realized long ago, and was very conscious of the guttural, almost snarling words he spoke as he said to Shynael, "They think I'm a-"
But suddenly he was distracted, for a couple of the knights had covered their ears. "What hideous noises!" cried one. "Sir Caleb, let us be rid of this accursed demon!"
"Indeed!" Sir Caleb cried. "To arms, men, and keep thy courage about thee!"
It seems the other knight is calling Shard a demon because of the sounds he's making. Yet, Caleb doesn't seem to retract his notion of rescuing Shard at this point. I dunno, maybe the dialogue could us some tweaking.
Suddenly, one of the knights broke away from their little group and began to edge over towards Shard. Not sure what to do, Shard remained frozen where he was and watched the knight advancing surreptitiously towards him.
When the knight was several feet away, and turned his helmeted head to Shard, Shynael suddenly let out a roar that made even Shard's heart leap into his throat.
The description here is somewhat conflictive, and the intent of the knight somewhat vague. Is he coming "suddenly", or "surreptitiously"? Is he coming to attack Shard or pull him(her XD) out of harms way?
But do like how Shynael 'stomps' the knight; that seemed very dragon-like if you know what I mean.
Okay, as for the battle in general...hmm, where to begin. Eh, I'll just PM you about this part....
Oh, but I also forgot to mention, I like Shynael's trill of a laugh. It's a great way to describe it...I can actually hear him laughing very clearly, even the half-heated trill at the end...very nice!
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
Sensei! *kowtows to Eso* Your advice is invaluable. Invaluable. You've cleared up the murk that was in my mind after writing this section, and now I know what I want to do with this scene for the second draft. Arigato gozaimashita!!! (Ignore the Oriental references. It's eleven p.m. and my mind is going berserk.)
I can see so many things I'd like to change in this story already that I have to force myself not to drop the story where it is and start revising now. But I know from past experience that, if I was to follow that path, I would never finish the first draft ^^'
I can see so many things I'd like to change in this story already that I have to force myself not to drop the story where it is and start revising now. But I know from past experience that, if I was to follow that path, I would never finish the first draft ^^'
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Esoteric wrote:Do itashimashite. ^^
Oooh, what's that mean? I pretend to be a Japanese language otaku, but I'm not ^^'
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Esoteric wrote:Meaning: You're welcome or Don't mention it.
Sugoi!! (How on earth are you supposed to know how to spell these romaji words?!)
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Real question is, knowing how to pronounce them. I had to look up how 'do itashimashite' is spelled and was surprised, since it's not quite pronounced as it reads, at least not in my experience. As for knowing how to spell them, only someone truly familiar with the kanji and kana would know. *looks around* Oh--I think we're swaying a little off topic. ^^;
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
Shynael: Aw, come on! You're no fun!
Shard: Well...she does have a point, you know.
Shynael: *pouts* But Japanese is FUN!!!
Shard: *whispering* You'd better hurry up with that next bit, Wolf.
Right-o! *hurries off to write more of the story - like she's SUPPOSED to be doing* *glares at self*
Shard: Well...she does have a point, you know.
Shynael: *pouts* But Japanese is FUN!!!
Shard: *whispering* You'd better hurry up with that next bit, Wolf.
Right-o! *hurries off to write more of the story - like she's SUPPOSED to be doing* *glares at self*
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Author's Note: I handled the last section a little sloppily, since I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to happen, but now I've decided that I want Shard to have killed those men. I know this is really sloppy, but pretend Shard wounded them, then came back later and found them dead, okay? Also, this section has more church stuff than usual, and I just want to say that I have a rather limited knowledge of Catholic customs. I did a bit of research, but if any of you spot something inaccurate, could you let me know? Thanks!
Guilt was a heavy thing, Shard discovered in the next few days. He felt as though giant millstones had been tied around his neck, weighing down his heart and dragging his limbs down to the ground. He found sleep elusive and restless, filled with dreams of screaming men and blood. When he woke from these dreams, drenched in a cold sweat, he would rise to his knees, pull out his ivory cross, and pray fervently.
He prayed for forgiveness, for guidance, for some way out of this torment. Sometimes his thoughts were so befuddled in the wake of his nightmares that all he could pray was that death would come to him and end it all. But none of his prayers seemed to work; he could find no comfort in any of them. If there had been a psalm or hymn that could comfort him now, he couldn't remember it. Instead, he kept on hearing passages whispered in his ear, passages such as Thou shalt not murder and Anyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment. What made it worse was that it was always Father Mark's voice who read out these passages, his voice cold and distant.
Shard shed many tears over the next week or so. Conversation between Shynael and himself was sparse, if present at all. Shard couldn't see many outward expressions of the dragon's remorse – most of the time, he merely stared off into space – but he could almost smell the guilty weight in Shynael's soul. Shard noticed that Shynael sometimes watched him with a strange expression as he prayed, and he often wondered what the dragon was thinking. But he never asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
Several times, Shard caught himself thinking bitterly, almost enviously, about Shynael. After all, the dragon had only caused the almost-certain death of one man. And what had he, Shard, done? Killed three. They probably had families, he realized one night as he murmured fruitless prayers to the stone-eared sky. Wives. Children, perhaps. Children, little boys and girls, who would never see their father again, because he had been killed by...a monster. He didn't care what Shynael had said; there was no more fitting word he could find to describe what he had become in the heat of the battle.
Finally, one morning Shard wearily opened his eyes, looking up at the gloomy, overcast sky above him. "Shynael," he murmured, his voice hoarse from disuse. He could tell from the loud breathing at his side that the dragon was awake. "Could you find the nearest town or village?"
"What for?" Shynael asked in surprise, his voice a little husky as well.
"I want to go to Mass."
----------
The village was larger than the one where Shard had grown up, large enough to have a small market of its own. He supposed this was what one called a town, but the noisy, bustling market held no interest for him. He was only grateful for the concealment the crowds provided; no one looked at him twice, though he was a complete stranger to this town.
Shard realized with a sinking feeling that if there was a market today, it was not Sunday. Nevertheless, he made his way to the white-walled church. It was nearly twice the size of the church in his village, and the stained-glass windows depicted unfamiliar saints. Still, the front of the church was much the same, with the altar and the crucifix up on the wall. The building was empty and filled with reverent silence. Shard could taste the purity and peace in the air, and it made him feel sick to the stomach. Feeling as small as a mouse, he moved to the front and knelt down on the hard floor, gazing up strickenly at the Christ's pained face.
Burying his face in his hands, Shard mumbled the same petitions he had been praying all week, hoping that somehow, just perhaps, his guilt would be allayed this time. So intent was he on his prayers that he did not hear shuffling footsteps approaching him, nor rustling cloth as someone knelt down beside him. Only when he had crossed himself, heart heavy, did he look to the side and notice a priest praying beside him.
Shard couldn't be sure, since the priest was kneeling, but he looked taller than Father Mark, and somewhat younger as well. His tonsured hair was mostly grey, but Shard could still see shrinking streaks of auburn here and there. Shard waited in silence, his heart strangely comforted to hear the murmured Latin phrases of the priest's prayer. He was strongly reminded of the days when he would kneel at Father Mark's side, fumblingly repeating the words Father Mark spoke.
At last the priest finished and crossed himself. He turned to look at Shard, and smiled gently, his eyes like warm blue fires, crackling comfortingly. Shard realized that his hands were trembling on his knees, and clenched them into tight fists. He felt dirty when he looked into those eyes, those eyes belonging to a man of God, so he focused his attention on his hands instead. "Forgive me, Father," he whispered, "for I have sinned."
The priest made a soft, encouraging sound, moving a little closer.
Shard tried to swallow, but it was too hard. "I...I killed...four men." He looked up quickly to see how the priest would take this, but to his surprise he saw no accusing frown, no stern glance. His eyes were still warm, though now his smile seemed a little sadder.
"Were these deaths premediated, or accidental?"
Shard wasn't exactly sure how to answer; he could hardly tell this priest that a strange presence had manifested itself in him and directed his thoughts. "I...I didn't mean to kill them," he finally said, somewhat desperately. "But I was so angry that...that I.... And all of a sudden...there they were...all bloody and...." He was breathing heavily now, and trembling all over. He tried to stop the trembling, to get ahold of himself, but he couldn't.
The priest's warm, rough hand closed over his own. "Have you repented of this sin? Have you asked for forgiveness?"
"Yes!" Shard choked out, half-sobbing. "Yes, yes, I have!" But it hasn't worked, he wanted to say. God has forsaken me, abandoned me to my own guilt. But the words wouldn't leave his throat.
"Then you are already forgiven, my son," the priest said gently. "Remember what Saint John, the apostle, said: 'But if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"
Shard looked up hopelessly at the priest. He didn't feel very forgiven....
The priest smiled knowingly. "Perhaps you need to forgive yourself. Indeed, my son, that is a hard task," he added when he saw Shard's expression.
"'But with God, all things are possible.'"
"Father...." Shard said, slightly confused, when the priest got to his feet and helped Shard up as well. "Aren't you going to assign me some sort of penance?"
"Good deeds will not change the way God sees you, my son." He thought a moment, then said, "You say you have ended four lives. Perhaps if you save four lives, you will be able to forgive yourself."
This small glimmer of hope was like a far-off light in the dark hole Shard had fallen into. For the first time in days, he smiled – a small, wan smile, but a smile nevertheless. "Thank you, Father!" he said fervently.
"Not at all," the priest said. "What is your name, son?"
"Sean," Shard said, a small warm something inside of him purring with contentment. No matter what Shynael said, some part of him, however small, was still Sean.
"You remind me of my younger brother," the priest said softly, running his eyes over Shard's features. "When he was only a little older than you, he also committed murder. He was a headstrong young man who followed his heart instead of common sense, so it was only natural that he ended up killing the man who challenged our dead father's honor. He was executed, but in his final hour he said to me, 'When you become a priest, Paul, have mercy on murderers like me.' There are not many murders done in this town, thank heaven, but when I do come across a murderer I strive to do as my brother asked."
"Thank you for your mercy, Father Paul," Shard said. "I will never forget it."
Father Paul only smiled and quoted, "'I shall forgive their iniquity, and I shall remember their sin no more.'" He said a blessing over Shard, made the sign of the cross, and said, "Now go in peace, my son."
Shard bowed to the crucifix, then to Father Paul, and left the church much more light-hearted than when he had entered. He hurried back to where he had left Shynael hidden outside the town, and told him everything Father Paul had said over the supper Shynael had caught for him.
When his tale was done, Shard looked up to find a strange expression on Shynael's face. "Do you think..." he started to ask, but then he muttered, "Never mind."
"Say it," Shard urged.
Shynael shifted his wings awkwardly, wincing a little when he moved his left wing, which was still healing. Finally, he muttered, "Do you think it would work for me? All that stuff about saving somebody's life?"
Shard rubbed the scales on Shynael's nose. "I'm sure it would."
"Okay," Shynael mumbled, laying his head in Shard's lap, closing his eyes in contentment as his friend continued to rub his scales.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour later, as the two of them were about ready to doze off, when Shynael rumbled softly, "I love you, Shard."
"I love you, too," Shard said sleepily, lulled to sleep by Shynael's purring.
Guilt was a heavy thing, Shard discovered in the next few days. He felt as though giant millstones had been tied around his neck, weighing down his heart and dragging his limbs down to the ground. He found sleep elusive and restless, filled with dreams of screaming men and blood. When he woke from these dreams, drenched in a cold sweat, he would rise to his knees, pull out his ivory cross, and pray fervently.
He prayed for forgiveness, for guidance, for some way out of this torment. Sometimes his thoughts were so befuddled in the wake of his nightmares that all he could pray was that death would come to him and end it all. But none of his prayers seemed to work; he could find no comfort in any of them. If there had been a psalm or hymn that could comfort him now, he couldn't remember it. Instead, he kept on hearing passages whispered in his ear, passages such as Thou shalt not murder and Anyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment. What made it worse was that it was always Father Mark's voice who read out these passages, his voice cold and distant.
Shard shed many tears over the next week or so. Conversation between Shynael and himself was sparse, if present at all. Shard couldn't see many outward expressions of the dragon's remorse – most of the time, he merely stared off into space – but he could almost smell the guilty weight in Shynael's soul. Shard noticed that Shynael sometimes watched him with a strange expression as he prayed, and he often wondered what the dragon was thinking. But he never asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
Several times, Shard caught himself thinking bitterly, almost enviously, about Shynael. After all, the dragon had only caused the almost-certain death of one man. And what had he, Shard, done? Killed three. They probably had families, he realized one night as he murmured fruitless prayers to the stone-eared sky. Wives. Children, perhaps. Children, little boys and girls, who would never see their father again, because he had been killed by...a monster. He didn't care what Shynael had said; there was no more fitting word he could find to describe what he had become in the heat of the battle.
Finally, one morning Shard wearily opened his eyes, looking up at the gloomy, overcast sky above him. "Shynael," he murmured, his voice hoarse from disuse. He could tell from the loud breathing at his side that the dragon was awake. "Could you find the nearest town or village?"
"What for?" Shynael asked in surprise, his voice a little husky as well.
"I want to go to Mass."
----------
The village was larger than the one where Shard had grown up, large enough to have a small market of its own. He supposed this was what one called a town, but the noisy, bustling market held no interest for him. He was only grateful for the concealment the crowds provided; no one looked at him twice, though he was a complete stranger to this town.
Shard realized with a sinking feeling that if there was a market today, it was not Sunday. Nevertheless, he made his way to the white-walled church. It was nearly twice the size of the church in his village, and the stained-glass windows depicted unfamiliar saints. Still, the front of the church was much the same, with the altar and the crucifix up on the wall. The building was empty and filled with reverent silence. Shard could taste the purity and peace in the air, and it made him feel sick to the stomach. Feeling as small as a mouse, he moved to the front and knelt down on the hard floor, gazing up strickenly at the Christ's pained face.
Burying his face in his hands, Shard mumbled the same petitions he had been praying all week, hoping that somehow, just perhaps, his guilt would be allayed this time. So intent was he on his prayers that he did not hear shuffling footsteps approaching him, nor rustling cloth as someone knelt down beside him. Only when he had crossed himself, heart heavy, did he look to the side and notice a priest praying beside him.
Shard couldn't be sure, since the priest was kneeling, but he looked taller than Father Mark, and somewhat younger as well. His tonsured hair was mostly grey, but Shard could still see shrinking streaks of auburn here and there. Shard waited in silence, his heart strangely comforted to hear the murmured Latin phrases of the priest's prayer. He was strongly reminded of the days when he would kneel at Father Mark's side, fumblingly repeating the words Father Mark spoke.
At last the priest finished and crossed himself. He turned to look at Shard, and smiled gently, his eyes like warm blue fires, crackling comfortingly. Shard realized that his hands were trembling on his knees, and clenched them into tight fists. He felt dirty when he looked into those eyes, those eyes belonging to a man of God, so he focused his attention on his hands instead. "Forgive me, Father," he whispered, "for I have sinned."
The priest made a soft, encouraging sound, moving a little closer.
Shard tried to swallow, but it was too hard. "I...I killed...four men." He looked up quickly to see how the priest would take this, but to his surprise he saw no accusing frown, no stern glance. His eyes were still warm, though now his smile seemed a little sadder.
"Were these deaths premediated, or accidental?"
Shard wasn't exactly sure how to answer; he could hardly tell this priest that a strange presence had manifested itself in him and directed his thoughts. "I...I didn't mean to kill them," he finally said, somewhat desperately. "But I was so angry that...that I.... And all of a sudden...there they were...all bloody and...." He was breathing heavily now, and trembling all over. He tried to stop the trembling, to get ahold of himself, but he couldn't.
The priest's warm, rough hand closed over his own. "Have you repented of this sin? Have you asked for forgiveness?"
"Yes!" Shard choked out, half-sobbing. "Yes, yes, I have!" But it hasn't worked, he wanted to say. God has forsaken me, abandoned me to my own guilt. But the words wouldn't leave his throat.
"Then you are already forgiven, my son," the priest said gently. "Remember what Saint John, the apostle, said: 'But if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"
Shard looked up hopelessly at the priest. He didn't feel very forgiven....
The priest smiled knowingly. "Perhaps you need to forgive yourself. Indeed, my son, that is a hard task," he added when he saw Shard's expression.
"'But with God, all things are possible.'"
"Father...." Shard said, slightly confused, when the priest got to his feet and helped Shard up as well. "Aren't you going to assign me some sort of penance?"
"Good deeds will not change the way God sees you, my son." He thought a moment, then said, "You say you have ended four lives. Perhaps if you save four lives, you will be able to forgive yourself."
This small glimmer of hope was like a far-off light in the dark hole Shard had fallen into. For the first time in days, he smiled – a small, wan smile, but a smile nevertheless. "Thank you, Father!" he said fervently.
"Not at all," the priest said. "What is your name, son?"
"Sean," Shard said, a small warm something inside of him purring with contentment. No matter what Shynael said, some part of him, however small, was still Sean.
"You remind me of my younger brother," the priest said softly, running his eyes over Shard's features. "When he was only a little older than you, he also committed murder. He was a headstrong young man who followed his heart instead of common sense, so it was only natural that he ended up killing the man who challenged our dead father's honor. He was executed, but in his final hour he said to me, 'When you become a priest, Paul, have mercy on murderers like me.' There are not many murders done in this town, thank heaven, but when I do come across a murderer I strive to do as my brother asked."
"Thank you for your mercy, Father Paul," Shard said. "I will never forget it."
Father Paul only smiled and quoted, "'I shall forgive their iniquity, and I shall remember their sin no more.'" He said a blessing over Shard, made the sign of the cross, and said, "Now go in peace, my son."
Shard bowed to the crucifix, then to Father Paul, and left the church much more light-hearted than when he had entered. He hurried back to where he had left Shynael hidden outside the town, and told him everything Father Paul had said over the supper Shynael had caught for him.
When his tale was done, Shard looked up to find a strange expression on Shynael's face. "Do you think..." he started to ask, but then he muttered, "Never mind."
"Say it," Shard urged.
Shynael shifted his wings awkwardly, wincing a little when he moved his left wing, which was still healing. Finally, he muttered, "Do you think it would work for me? All that stuff about saving somebody's life?"
Shard rubbed the scales on Shynael's nose. "I'm sure it would."
"Okay," Shynael mumbled, laying his head in Shard's lap, closing his eyes in contentment as his friend continued to rub his scales.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour later, as the two of them were about ready to doze off, when Shynael rumbled softly, "I love you, Shard."
"I love you, too," Shard said sleepily, lulled to sleep by Shynael's purring.
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
I liked this part and how you incorporated Catholicism into it. It was really touching and very emotional ^^ (well, not to be cheesy, hehe--I could feel the despair that Shard felt).
Shynael reminds me of that one red dinosaur thing (Gilomon?) from the 4th season of Digimon, hehe. He seems cute ^^
P.S. I couldn't help but notice your age, hehe. I was looking for writing scholarships not too long ago and found that Scholastic has this scholarship award thing for young writers--check it out if you want^^:
http://www.scholastic.com/artandwritingawards/enter.htm
Shynael reminds me of that one red dinosaur thing (Gilomon?) from the 4th season of Digimon, hehe. He seems cute ^^
P.S. I couldn't help but notice your age, hehe. I was looking for writing scholarships not too long ago and found that Scholastic has this scholarship award thing for young writers--check it out if you want^^:
http://www.scholastic.com/artandwritingawards/enter.htm
[color=purple][font=Tahoma][color=royalblue]"But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."--[/color]Isaiah 40:31
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~darkelfgirl~ - Posts: 720
- Joined: Mon Jun 04, 2007 2:01 pm
- Location: In the depths of your feeble mind!
Thanks, ~darkelfgirl~! I'm glad you liked it. And thanks for giving me the link to the scholarship thingy. My family knows I could really use one ^^'
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Yes, a very good turn around, Wolf! (is that your preferred nickname?) I do like this development very much. It was good way to get Shynael back into the 'debate' if you will. I haven't re-read it so I didn't look for typos or anything (it's been a crazy week--the August heat has fried my brain). But on just the first pass, it was great. Nice job! 
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
Hooray for dancing bananas and cuddly dragons! ^_^ If you have time to look over it a second time, Eso, that's great, but I do know what a busy schedule is lol ^^'
*suddenly realizes something* *scrambles around frantically*
Shynael: Huh? What's up?
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT!!!!!!!!!!!!
*Shard, Shynael, and the_wolfs_howl go into a huddle to discuss further developments*
P.S. I guess Wolf can be my nickname; I don't really have one lol Since my pseudonym is Griselda Banks, sometimes I go by Grizzy B
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
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the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
Okay, did a quick second read....
The whole scene with the priest is excellent, but this part was especially powerful. Nice.
Well, that's all I could think of!
Hehe, it doesn't matter to me, except that I'm lazy and never feel like typing out "the_wolfs_howl", and that's a toughy to come up with a good abbreviation for. If you prefer Grizzy though, that's certainly easy to type in a posting frenzy.
A little awkward. Perhaps: "Guilt was a heavy thing; Shard discovered this in the next few days." ?Guilt was a heavy thing, Shard discovered in the next few days.
Another awkward one. Only caused the almost-certain death? Thats not exactly an 'only', if you know what I mean. Are you trying to say is that Shynael wasn't trying to kill him? Or is Shard just comparing the numbers, and not talking about the motives? Either way, it needs some tweaking.After all, the dragon had only caused the almost-certain death of one man.
"Yes!" Shard choked out, half-sobbing. "Yes, yes, I have!" But it hasn't worked, he wanted to say. God has forsaken me, abandoned me to my own guilt. But the words wouldn't leave his throat.
The whole scene with the priest is excellent, but this part was especially powerful. Nice.
Well, that's all I could think of!
P.S. I guess Wolf can be my nickname; I don't really have one lol Since my pseudonym is Griselda Banks, sometimes I go by Grizzy B
Hehe, it doesn't matter to me, except that I'm lazy and never feel like typing out "the_wolfs_howl", and that's a toughy to come up with a good abbreviation for. If you prefer Grizzy though, that's certainly easy to type in a posting frenzy.
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Esoteric - Posts: 1603
- Joined: Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:12 pm
- Location: The Lost Room.
Sorry I've not replied to the latest chapters. I've been away on vacation.
It was interesting to have the gallant knights as the 'bad' guys. Shard's transformation is raising some good questions too. Is it necessarily a bad thing or...?
It was interesting to have the gallant knights as the 'bad' guys. Shard's transformation is raising some good questions too. Is it necessarily a bad thing or...?
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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kryptech - Posts: 393
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 1:18 pm
- Location: GTA
Eso - As always, thank you so much!
kryptech - Hope you had a good vacation, and I'm glad you liked the latest developments in the story. As for the question...wouldn't you love to know? *evil cackle*
kryptech - Hope you had a good vacation, and I'm glad you liked the latest developments in the story. As for the question...wouldn't you love to know? *evil cackle*
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine
-
the_wolfs_howl - Posts: 3273
- Joined: Thu Mar 01, 2007 11:26 pm
- Location: Not Paradise...yet
the_wolfs_howl wrote:As for the question...wouldn't you love to know? *evil cackle*
I would indeed. Hence my anticipation for the next installment. ^_^
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
-
kryptech - Posts: 393
- Joined: Sun Nov 21, 2004 1:18 pm
- Location: GTA
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