This is very much so a work in progress, and I'm not sure if its up to my standard of quality yet, but I want to see what you think of it. This is meant to be the prologue to a series (tripartite? haven't decided yet) of stories.
I was only thirteen years old when I took my title.
My father was the greatest king in recent Thallian history, some tell me the best ever - though they probably just say it because of who I am. I know that they are exaggerating. Everyone seems to forget King Urtcha, who gave the nation its greatest prosperity, even though it was mostly destroyed at the end of his reign, and lost much power when he gave himself to exile.
But I digress. I guess this is what happens when you spend years studying history.
There were few in court that day: My father, the king, Ised, his advisor and court wizard, Breike, his bodyguard, and me. It was going to be a fun day. He told me all about what a party he had planed for that night. A delegate from one of the mountain cities was coming in for peace talks and a celebration. The visitor walked into the chamber alone. He wore a leather shirt and trousers with a gilded blue traveling cloak. He had a tabard of the same color, with a shimmering gold flame embroidered on his chest.
He knelt in the center of the throne room, just like every other guest in the palace. He touched the floor, and tendrils of light glided along the rock and grip the ankles and wrists of everyone present. Ised started chanting rapidly, as Breike shouted for help. The emmissary stepped up to the throne to which the king was bound. He drew a dagger from within his tabard, and ran it through my fathers neck, while everyone in the room stood paralyzed. The emmissary left the blade lodged in the high back of the throne, and began to walk away.
Ised looked up, the light entrapping all of us disappeared, and Breike sprinted after the assassin, as he took off running. I was told that the assassin made it to the edge of the city, where the gate was already closed, and that Breike tackled him, and relentlessly delivered several stab wounds through his rich clothing. Breike had to be pulled off of the corpse.
I ran to my father, who was already dead. No profound final words like in the stories of my childhood. Just a blank stare, and his final expression of surprise. I could not help myself. I try to put on a strong image, as he taught me, but I simply could not. I wept bitterly. Ised tried to comfort me while he sent for the mortician and more guards to chase the assassin. The castle, indeed the city was immediately full of activity, and he left me to make the announcement to the people.
The funeral was the same night. The night prepared for celebrating, now wasted in weeping. Most of the city paraded past his body on the pyre, and then we three who were there when he died lit the fire.
From there, everything was planned. I was carefully instructed on how to act during the ceremony. A man in the assembled crowd shouted out, “Who will rule the city?” Ised, took the podium to address the multitude. I don't know what came over me then. As he opened his mouth to make the announcement, I shouted out, “I will!”
Ised looked at me in anger. Like my father when I acted out in court, but much more threatening. I was afraid to continue.
“I will have no regency to rule in my place. If there is a law concerning the age of new kings, stop me. By my right as sole heir to my father, I claim my throne and my scepter.”
I've been sitting on the throne for five years now. I now see that there was some folly in my childish decision. I have a policy of sticking to my choices, so I never gave over the power that I achieved to any regent. Now I am old enough that everyone respects me in my power, and I have enjoyed this time.
Breike is still the captain of the guard. He follows me everywhere, and there are typically four to five armed men following him in the arrangement of each typical fighting skill group. There is always one man who ca administer first aid, another who can shoot, one good with a sword, and so on. Breike takes my safety seriously, and I am grateful to him for it. Wizards are rare in my time, it seems, and after three years, without encountering any spellcasters, I convinced Breike to dismiss the wizard guard that used to follow as well. Besides, Ised is skilled enough to offer magical protection when necessary.
Ah, Ised. He would have been my regent, if I hadn't interrupted the funeral service. He was irritated at the time, since he prepared a nice speech for the occasion, but he improvised well enough. He has been my advisor since, helping me to understand the gravity of decisions that simply did not enter the mind of a thirteen year old.
On one occasion, only a month after I first sat in court, a man came to me and accused a lender of his of usury, and that it was destroying his business. I was stumped by the concept of interest, and, not about to give up on a case or pass it off to another, or even wait any amount of time before I could give a resolution, I suspended court for the day, and had Ised give me a lesson on finances, and interest, and what rates are reasonable, and what is not, based on each man's situation. The next day both the accused and accuser came to me, and I found that the lender was in fact charging an exorbitant rate to the fairly poor businessman, but he was willing to lower it for him when I told him to do so.
Life as a monarch is not boring, as it may seem to my reader at this point. I have done more than solve disputes and hear petitions from citizens. I often liked to disguise myself in common clothing and walk the streets, shop in the markets, and talk with other boys my age. I formed a particularly strong connection with a young man named Tylien. He is a scholar, through and through, and about my age. I found him preaching some bit about the history of Thallian wars, all the way back to our Golden Age under Urtcha, to a group of younger children. I listened a bit, and asked some silly question about when Urtcha resigned his power or some such foolishness to see how could answer it. He berated my for my apparent idiocy, followed up by several other insults to my intelligence which I later promised him I would not relate. I challenged him to a game of chess, to which he agreed. I told him to meet me in the palace square the next morning, to which he also agreed. How surprised he looked when I walked out the great doors wearing my crown! He tried to refuse to play the game, but I would not let him. I intentionally lost that game, just to get back at him. He was utterly frightened of me to begin with, but I think he was very unreasonable about it, I was sure to keep laughing and smiling the whole while. I forced him to beat me in the end, and we have been best of friends ever since.
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
I will try to help as I can with an opinion but I'm afraid at the moment all I can think of are trees and elephants (It's more complicated than it sounds ~ coursework) so my heads a bit scattered, i'll do my best though.
I did notice this though "He knely in the center of the throne room" which I presume is a typo for "He knelt in the..." so at least I can act as a semi-functional spell check.
I think it is nice little short story though I personally would like to know why the nation that sent the assassin were at war with the King (I presume they were at war if they were coming for peace talks?) and what caused such a hatred that they would send an assassin under the pretense of peace.
I'm also a little curious about the flame symbol on the mans chest is it a a random tattoo or will it have future significance?
I think it is nice little short story though I personally would like to know why the nation that sent the assassin were at war with the King (I presume they were at war if they were coming for peace talks?) and what caused such a hatred that they would send an assassin under the pretense of peace.
I actually hadn't thought of that. This is only a prologue for the primary story I want to tell, but I didn't realize that so much was missing... Its not important for the story I want to tell, so I'll add a sentence or two to fill in the blank, but not go into much depth.
And yes, the gold flame on a blue background does have much significance in the main story
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
Alright, Part two added to original post right after this goes up.
I'm still kind of in introductions mode, and I want some feedback if you can give it. How's my style? Are there any blaring grammar mistakes? Am I writing too little? Give me some help here:P
I promise, I do have a story planned from all this.
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
Heeey you've got to hide your... draft ay-way... [/beatles]
edits in red
Part 1
I was only thirteen years old when I took my title.
My father was the greatest king in recent Thallian do we know this place? sounds familiar history, some tell me the best ever--though they probably just say it because of who I am. I always know that they are exaggerating. Everyone seems to forget King Urtcha, who gave the nation its greatest prosperity, even though it was mostly destroyed at the end of his reign, and lost much power when he gave himself to exile.
But I digress. I guess this is what happens when you spend years studying history.
There were few in court that day: My father, the king; Ised, his advisor and court wizard; Breike, his bodyguard; and me. It was going to be a fun day. He told me all about what a party he had planned for that night. A delegate from one of the mountain cities was coming in for peace talks and a celebration. He walked into the chamber alone. He wore a leather shirt and trousers with a gilded blue traveling cloak. He had a tabard of the same color, with a shimmering gold flame embroidered on his chest. Your father or the delegate?
He knelt in the center of the throne room, just like everyone else. He touched the floor, and tendrils of light glided along the rock and grip the ankles and wrists of everyone present. Ised started chanting rapidly, as Breike shouted for help. The emmissary stepped up to the throne to which the king was bound. He drew a dagger from within his tabard, and ran it through my fathers neck, while I stood weeping.
The spell broke, and Breike ran the assassin through before he had a chance to turn away from his target.
I don't feel I need to describe the rest of the day to you. Mourning, meetings, uncontrolable emotion. It was unbearable. I do not know how I survived it. I think you're using brevity as an indicator of emotional distress here, but I'm not sure it's working... it just seems a bit rushed. Maybe take some time and flesh this scene out a bit more. Really set the stage and prepare us for the impact. Why spend so much time describing the deligate, for example, if you're not going to capitalize on that more?
The funeral was the same night. The night prepared for partying celebrating, maybe? Partying sounds a bit modern, now wasted in weeping. Most of the city paraded past his body on the pyre, and then we three who were there when he died lit the fire.
From there, everything was planned. I was carefully instructed on how to act during the ceremony. A man in the assembled crowd shouted out, “Who will rule the city?” Ised, took the podium to address the multitude. I don't know what came over me then. As he opened his mouth to make the announcement, I shouted out, “I will!”
Ised looked at me in anger. Like my father when I acted out in court, but much more threatening. I was afraid to continue.
“I will have no regency to rule in my place. If there is a law concerning the age of new kings, stop me. By my right as sole heir to my father, I claim my throne and my scepter.”The plot thickens! But the text could use some thickening as well. It's a bit slight at the moment.
Part 2:
I've been sitting on the throne for five years now. I now see that there was some folly in my childish decision. I have a policy of sticking to my choices, so I never gave over the power that I achieved to any regent. Now I am old enough that everyone respects me in my power, and I have enjoyed this time.
Breike is still the captain of the guard. He follows me everywhere, and there are typically four to five armed men following him in the arrangement of each typical fighting skill group. There is always one man who ca administer first aid, another who can shoot, one good with a sword, and so on. Breike takes my safety seriously, and I am grateful to him for it. Wizards are rare in my time, it seems, and after three years, without encountering any spellcasters, I convinced Breike to dismiss the wizard guard that used to follow as well. Besides, Ised is skilled enough to offer magical protection when necessary.
Ah, Ised. He would have been my regent, if I hadn't interrupted the funeral service. He was irritated at the time, since he prepared a nice speech for the occasion, but he improvised well enough. He has been my advisor since, helping me to understand the gravity of decisions that simply did not enter the mind of a thirteen year old.
On one occasion, only a month after I first sat in court, a man came to me and accused a lender of his of usury, and that it was destroying his business. I was stumped by the concept of interest, and, not about to give up on a case or pass it off to another, or even wait any amount of time before I could give a resolution, I suspended court for the day, and had Ised give me a lesson on finances, and interest, and what rates are reasonable, and what is not, based on each man's situation. The next day both the accused and accuser came to me, and I found that the lender was in fact charging an exorbitant rate to the fairly poor businessman, but he was willing to lower it for him when I told him to do so.
Life as a monarch is not boring, as it may seem to my reader at this point. I have done more than solve disputes and hear petitions from citizens. I often liked to disguise myself in common clothing and walk the streets, shop in the markets, and talk with other boys my age. I formed a particularly strong connection with a young man named Tylien. He is a scholar, through and through, and about my age. I found him preaching some bit about the history of Thallian wars, all the way back to our Golden Age under Urtcha, to a group of younger children. I listened a bit, and asked some silly question about when Urtcha resigned his power or some such foolishness to see how could answer it. He berated my for my apparent idiocy, followed up by several other insults to my intelligence which I later promised him I would not relate. I challenged him to a game of chess, to which he agreed. I told him to meet me in the palace square the next morning, to which he also agreed. How surprised he looked when I walked out the great doors wearing my crown! He tried to refuse to play the game, but I would not let him. I intentionally lost that game, just to get back at him. I like this story, but again, we're getting a plot summary here, not a plot... I think this could be expanded a bit more into an actual scene rather than just a recollection. He was utterly frightened of me to begin with, but I think he was very unreasonable about it, I was sure to keep laughing and smiling the whole while. I forced him to beat me in the end, and we have been best of friends ever since.
I'm interested to see where this is going. How does this tie into the Expanded Multiverse? Can you give us some hints as to where you're headed?
Thanks for that, Keeper. I'll make those changes if I have time tomorrow. I'm not sure how much it will tie into the Expanded Multiverse. Depending on the ending I choose, we may get a new character/planeswalker to play with.
When I come up with a name for my main character, I'm going to switch it to 3rd person, and continue his story in that way. There will be some more assassinations (or at least attempts), a war or two with that mountain nation from the first part, and some surprising, but I hope well foreshadowed deaths.
Thallia is totally ripped off of something, but I can't remember what. Not like a real place somewhere, but I was in class when I started this, and I just looked around for something to base my place name on, and that's what came out.
EDIT: Ah, I remember now, it was the Element, Thallium:P
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
I have not abandoned this project, I've been busy with finals, then recovery, and now I'm trying to find out who the hell I am. I started working, kinda stopped writing and playing music (much blame goes to my lack of finances for lessons and the despair and lack of motivation that came from that), and I've been wasting a lot of time on TV tropes or pretending I'm a good starcraft player.
I'm going to try and turn all that around, first by being more active on this forum and then by resuming my writing, as many have told me it is a talent. I started a blog, called Anarion's Last Stand under a new pen name, and I'm going to try to write the first chapter in this story, having spent the last hour deciding on a meaningful name for my protagonist.
Thanks for your help and criticism. I'll make the changes reccomended by keeper first, then get to work on the next chapter.
I made some changes, and I noticed Keeper's last comment. How much does my work have to be involved in the Expanded Multiverse to be an Expanded Multiverse story? Is it not enough that it takes place in a Magic setting? Does my main character need to be a planeswalker? (I haven't decided yet, he may become one by the end).
And on the lack of detail, and a bit of "telling not showing" is due to the journal/letter format of the prologue, and a little bit of author laziness. I'm about to change perspective, as you will (hopefully) see soon, and I hope those issues will clear up as I take my story a little more seriously.
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
I thiiiiiiiink I was just curious about what made this a Magic story in particular, since it didn't seem strikingly magic-based just yet. You don't have to use anything that doesn't fit
Okay, it will fit into the Magic universe, perhaps not largely, as I wrote the storyboard outside of a M:TG context, but I will put in a little more effort to let the reader know it's a magic story.
Also, for the record, though I don't think its that important that it needs to be made clear, I was thinking about Faith's Fetters while writing this :P
EDIT: The Ravnica one, not the wacky looking Angel Vs Demons one.
Check out my blog, Anarion's Last Stand, with such diverse topics as poetry, writing, and [insert blog topic here] Anarionslaststand.blogspot.com
I am the stone that comes not from the sea. I am the blood but the blood is not me. I am the key to the door with no locks. I am the mainspring that winds broken clocks. I am your tears on the chains of the rack. I am your gift and you can't give me back.
