08-12-2003, 23:22
This is a continuation of the series started with this (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=101515&highlight=) thread. Though it may seem like a different story, you may want to read the other one anyway. Please.
The pounding of hooves came softly down the street. Jac looked out his window to see who the traveler was. He was as nervous as everyone was. Rumor had it that the Minions were searching for someone. This was bad news for the Rebels. If somebody was captured and spilled the secret, the whole town could be killed. The Winds of Death were not happy with the Winds of Change. A traveler this late at night made him even more anxious. The Minions were notorious for striking in the pitch black of midnight.
The rider came into view. The purple cloak; the stately appearance...it was a Prophet. Though this still meant someone was being sought after, it also meant they weren't in danger of being captured--only questioned. The townspeople had sufficient protection against the powers of a Prophet. The purple robed figure meant that there was no need to be nervous. Jac went to his pet hawk, tied a message to his leg, and sent him to the neighbors. Now he could sleep. His job was done.
* * *
The man got off his horse and looked above the houses. The hawk went flying to its destination. The vile traveler sneered. He raised a hand and sent what looked like a tiny spark flying through the air. The bird froze in midair and came crashing to the ground. Chuckling coldly at his work, the rider whipped off his purple cloak. The Black Robes he wore revealed his true nature. The foolish rebels thought their little tricks would still work. But they had figured it out. Now for the simple matter of squashing out the problem.
He would have to be careful. This was a mountain town. If he used too flashy a technique, villages for miles around would see it. The twinkling stars overhead would provide ample light for anyone to see as well. This was a difficult job, but he had the perfect method. Releasing his horse into the safety of a nearby thicket of trees, he swept into the center of town. He found the sleeping hawk on the ground nearby. His cruel face twisted into an evil grin. He stepped over the bird almost protectively. He couldn't suppress a laugh of satisfaction. In a few seconds, the job would be done.
A green flash out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked over at it. So the fool wants to play... With a casual wave of his hand, the man in black sent the flash of light careening into the distance. The fact that it was miles away made little difference in his concentration; he was far more powerful than the one who had sent it. Looking once again down at the feathered abomination between his feet, the man once again laughed aloud. A sound came from a nearby house. He turned to look at the face of a small boy, scarcely more than four, looking out at him with hands clutched around a stuffed bear. The black robed man raised a hand above his head. With the other, he waved a remorseless goodbye to the innocent child.
A snap of his fingers. A flash of light. A rumble of thunder. A monstrous shockwave. The houses were ripped apart like paper. The people's screams were drowned by the force of death. Dirt and grass went flying in every direction. Fences were torn out of the ground whole. The cold, deep laugh of the man who had caused it. Looking back where the boy had been, he saw the remnants of the stuffed bear. The child was nowhere to be seen. With a smirk of satisfaction, he looked down at the hawk once again. Such a small creature. So feeble, it seemed, as it lay helpless on the ground. The man looked almost puzzled. Then his eyes flashed with anger.
A crunch. A boot slamming on the hard ground. The last shriek of a bird. The final note of the evening as the man remounted his horse and rode off to the distance. All was calm. Not a sound could be heard for miles. The silence of death. The rustle of a chill wind. The unbroken cold of malice. The imperturbable darkness that seemed to consume all.
* * *
Franc was standing outside his house, admiring the stars and the brilliant blue moon. The sky seemed so peaceful that night, as if nothing bad could ever happen. With eyes glowing in the reflection of the heavens, he turned to look upon his village.
A purple robed man came strolling down the street. "Franc, what are you doing still awake?"
"Just admiring the stars. Aren't they calming?"
"Yes, they are quite a sight. But you know how the authorities feel about villagers being awake at this hour. You should go to bed."
"In a few minutes. I just want to see how the moon reflects off the mountains over there..." He pointed to the north, where a chain of enormous mountains stood. The Prophet looked that way as well. He seemed to be concentrating. He raised a hand and whispered "Stop." A green ball flew from his fingers toward the top of one of the stone giants. The ball was redirected suddenly toward the east, where it disappeared over the horizon. For some reason, Franc hadn't noticed this.
A glint of light reflected off the mountains. Franc stared in amazement at the beauty of the phenomena. It seemed as if something was blowing the light outward, like a sort of strange star. It was over in a heartbeat. He looked at it questioningly. Turning to the Prophet, he saw the other man standing in the street trembling. "Go to bed Franc. We don't want anything bad to happen." He walked away, leaving the peasant there by himself. Franc proceeded into his house, wondering what the matter was. Prophets, he thought. Who knows what goes on in their heads. Maybe I'll send a letter to Jac tomorrow. He might know something.
Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of the Blue Moon series. If you are still interested, stay tuned for Chapter 3: One Is the Lonliest Number That You'll Ever Do...
The pounding of hooves came softly down the street. Jac looked out his window to see who the traveler was. He was as nervous as everyone was. Rumor had it that the Minions were searching for someone. This was bad news for the Rebels. If somebody was captured and spilled the secret, the whole town could be killed. The Winds of Death were not happy with the Winds of Change. A traveler this late at night made him even more anxious. The Minions were notorious for striking in the pitch black of midnight.
The rider came into view. The purple cloak; the stately appearance...it was a Prophet. Though this still meant someone was being sought after, it also meant they weren't in danger of being captured--only questioned. The townspeople had sufficient protection against the powers of a Prophet. The purple robed figure meant that there was no need to be nervous. Jac went to his pet hawk, tied a message to his leg, and sent him to the neighbors. Now he could sleep. His job was done.
* * *
The man got off his horse and looked above the houses. The hawk went flying to its destination. The vile traveler sneered. He raised a hand and sent what looked like a tiny spark flying through the air. The bird froze in midair and came crashing to the ground. Chuckling coldly at his work, the rider whipped off his purple cloak. The Black Robes he wore revealed his true nature. The foolish rebels thought their little tricks would still work. But they had figured it out. Now for the simple matter of squashing out the problem.
He would have to be careful. This was a mountain town. If he used too flashy a technique, villages for miles around would see it. The twinkling stars overhead would provide ample light for anyone to see as well. This was a difficult job, but he had the perfect method. Releasing his horse into the safety of a nearby thicket of trees, he swept into the center of town. He found the sleeping hawk on the ground nearby. His cruel face twisted into an evil grin. He stepped over the bird almost protectively. He couldn't suppress a laugh of satisfaction. In a few seconds, the job would be done.
A green flash out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked over at it. So the fool wants to play... With a casual wave of his hand, the man in black sent the flash of light careening into the distance. The fact that it was miles away made little difference in his concentration; he was far more powerful than the one who had sent it. Looking once again down at the feathered abomination between his feet, the man once again laughed aloud. A sound came from a nearby house. He turned to look at the face of a small boy, scarcely more than four, looking out at him with hands clutched around a stuffed bear. The black robed man raised a hand above his head. With the other, he waved a remorseless goodbye to the innocent child.
A snap of his fingers. A flash of light. A rumble of thunder. A monstrous shockwave. The houses were ripped apart like paper. The people's screams were drowned by the force of death. Dirt and grass went flying in every direction. Fences were torn out of the ground whole. The cold, deep laugh of the man who had caused it. Looking back where the boy had been, he saw the remnants of the stuffed bear. The child was nowhere to be seen. With a smirk of satisfaction, he looked down at the hawk once again. Such a small creature. So feeble, it seemed, as it lay helpless on the ground. The man looked almost puzzled. Then his eyes flashed with anger.
A crunch. A boot slamming on the hard ground. The last shriek of a bird. The final note of the evening as the man remounted his horse and rode off to the distance. All was calm. Not a sound could be heard for miles. The silence of death. The rustle of a chill wind. The unbroken cold of malice. The imperturbable darkness that seemed to consume all.
* * *
Franc was standing outside his house, admiring the stars and the brilliant blue moon. The sky seemed so peaceful that night, as if nothing bad could ever happen. With eyes glowing in the reflection of the heavens, he turned to look upon his village.
A purple robed man came strolling down the street. "Franc, what are you doing still awake?"
"Just admiring the stars. Aren't they calming?"
"Yes, they are quite a sight. But you know how the authorities feel about villagers being awake at this hour. You should go to bed."
"In a few minutes. I just want to see how the moon reflects off the mountains over there..." He pointed to the north, where a chain of enormous mountains stood. The Prophet looked that way as well. He seemed to be concentrating. He raised a hand and whispered "Stop." A green ball flew from his fingers toward the top of one of the stone giants. The ball was redirected suddenly toward the east, where it disappeared over the horizon. For some reason, Franc hadn't noticed this.
A glint of light reflected off the mountains. Franc stared in amazement at the beauty of the phenomena. It seemed as if something was blowing the light outward, like a sort of strange star. It was over in a heartbeat. He looked at it questioningly. Turning to the Prophet, he saw the other man standing in the street trembling. "Go to bed Franc. We don't want anything bad to happen." He walked away, leaving the peasant there by himself. Franc proceeded into his house, wondering what the matter was. Prophets, he thought. Who knows what goes on in their heads. Maybe I'll send a letter to Jac tomorrow. He might know something.
Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of the Blue Moon series. If you are still interested, stay tuned for Chapter 3: One Is the Lonliest Number That You'll Ever Do...