10th of Spring, 508 AV
Angered by the Gods
Today is going to be my family’s first day back in Kalea. We were going to spend our first night in Alvadas, but the boat trip that brought us over from Sylira took longer than expected. Father had decided that it would be wiser to set up camp now, than walking through the dark. Tomorrow father said we would go to Alvadas to find a caravan that will help us make our journey home to Wind Reach.
I was playing on a tree, pretending that I was climbing a huge mountain that no man has ever conquered, when father yelled out to me,“Relic, quit messing around and go gather some firewood, so your mother can make something to eat,”
I hopped out of the tree, landing on the ground with a thump, as I yelled back, “Yes sir,” and ran into the woods to fulfill my duties.
I heard mother yell out to me, “Just be back before dark, honey!”
It was a little darker than mother wanted me to be back by, but I wanted to try and carry as much firewood as I possibly could, so I slowed down by the extra weight. I was almost back to campsite when I heard mother scream. This scream wasn’t an angry scream, nor a playful scream. This was a scream of true pain and fear; a scream that sent shivers down my spine, making me feel like I was falling. I dropped the firewood and began running as fast as I could to the campsite.
Once I reached the clearing of trees that we had set up camp in, I peered through some bushes to see what was going on. I spotted my mother on her knees being held by an unknown man with a knife to her throat, as she cried and prayed to Yahal to come save them. Then I seen my father, or at least it looked like my father, being held by two more men, but this man could not be my father. This guy was thrashing around yelling absurd and extremely violent threats to these unknown men, and that look on his face. He looked a rabid wolf that was going to rip into its prey with its teeths. This animal couldn’t be my father. My father is a kind, pure man that would never think of hurting another living being.
The man holding my mother, yanked her by her long, red hair interrupting her prayer, and yelled, “Do you really think your god is going to save you! Your god doesn’t care about you! You are nothing but a plaything for him that he would dispose of out of the slight feeling of boredom!”
Mother continued to pray, and the man laughed with disappointment and shooked his head. He pulled her head back and slide the knife across her neck allowing blood to pour out. My father stopped his aggressive behavior, and stood still looking into the eyes of my mother as her lifeless body fell to the ground. Father stood in place without moving as tears ran down his face. The man with the knife walked towards my father, and stabbed him the gut. The two men that were holding him, threw him into a tree.
After the three men had gather most of our belongings and left, I managed to gather enough courage to walk out into the clearing. I began to walk towards my mother’s lifeless body, but my father called out to me, “R-Relic,” I turned turned towards my father who was propped up on a tree holding his gut as blood ran down his body onto the ground.
Once I reached him I kneeled down and began to cry. “S-son we were attacked by bandits, a-and they...” he coughed up some blood, “T-they killed your mother and soon I will soon follow,”
I shooked my head. I wanted to plead out to my father that he can’t die, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything. The words wouldn’t leave the tip of my tongue. Father must had sensed this, because he patted the back of my head, and seemingly knocked the words right out of me. “Why father... why didn’t Yahal save? I thought he helped his followers in their time of need,”
My father looked at me with a guilty look, “H-he does son, he helps his faithful and pure followers, b-but I am not one of them. M-my harbored violent innerself that made me want to kill the men that were hurting your mother prevented Yahal from helping us,”
I felt myself become outraged at this reason, “No father, that isn’t right, you were just trying to protect mother!”
Father looked at me with a sincere look, “Y-you will u-understand one d-d-d...” he began coughing up a lot more blood now, and fell over onto the ground. I reached out and tried to support his head. “S-son, I don’t have much time,” he reached into his pants and pulled out a hilt of a sword. “This hilt once b-belonged to one of your ancestors during the Valterrian. He used his sword in many b-battles to slay many foes on the battlefield, but after awhile he became disgusted with himself and of senseless killing all together. He broke the b-blade from the hilt and sought out Yahal to help him purify his soul for his past. Yahal a-admired his complete faithfulness, trust, and pure attentions. He went on to b-become a priest of Yahal and used the strength that Yahal bestowed upon him to travel the world, protecting the pure hearted ones,” he looked at the hilt and handed it to me. “It has represented this f-family’s faithfulness, and purity for many generations,” [color=#008000]
I grabbed the hilt and grasped it strongly with anger, and looked into my father’s eyes until they faded shut and his body went limp. All of these feelings of anger and sorrow swelled up inside of me and exploded out into one loud scream of true pain that could make the gods themselves tremble.
After I regained some of my composure, I decided I couldn’t just leave their bodies in the open like this. I managed to drag my father’s body over to my mother’s body. I used the logs, and branches that I gather to make a platform to lay them on. Then I place some of the food that was left by the bandits around them, just like how father told me.
Now that there their bodies were laid to rest, I collected the few things that were left by the bandits and started for Alvadas along the road. As I walked mindlessly in a state of shock, I realized that the sun has begun to rise. I took the hilt to examine for the first time in the dim light of sunrise. It was noticeably old and worn, but yet, it was strangely firm and comfortable. Father has always told me stories of our ancestors and of the Drykas’s people, but last night was the first time I have ever heard of the hilt or the story of that ancestor. I stopped walking, as the expressions of my parents’ faces as they died flashed inside of my mind. The feeling of anger and sorrow surged down my spine. I looked at the hilt, and said aloud, “Why should I put my faith into a god that just allowed two of his followers die a merciless death? Just because they were perfect? They were still good people,” remembering back to what that bandit said, “Maybe we are all just the gods’ playthings that they dispose of out of boredom,” I looked into the dim skies of sunrise, “I will become strong, stronger than you made my ancestor, and I will protect everyone from you gods,” I thrusted my arms open and yelled into the sky, ”You hear that gods, we aren’t your playthings!” |
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by Relic Brone on July 23rd, 2013, 3:25 am 
