Fabioisonfire
total a-hole
Hey, guys. Some of you already know, I am writing a book. Here at the Bell Tree, I will keep you updated with chapters, excerpts, and more. I will also look for comments, suggestions, etc.
Well, here is a small draft of a small part of chapter 1... Enjoy:
Chapter 1: A Good Story
(Please note this is a DRAFT and a SMALL PART of chapter 1..)
"Ah, young one.. I see you have come." whispered the old woman.
"Yes, grandmother. What stories do you have in store for me this day?" said Ard.
"Oh, a good one, yes.."
The old woman reached over for a shelf, and picked a scroll out of the many that were on the wall.
She slowly and gently took it out of the nook, and unfolded it.
"Are you ready, young one?"
"Yes," replied Ard.
"Ok, then.. Let me begin.."
The woman cleared her throught as she read:
"A good story always begins where it ends, as does this one.. This is not a story of triumph, victory, and honor, yet one of pride. Victory does not yet matter, if you have nothing to show for it, eh?"
Ard nodded his head, interested in what was to happen next.
"Aye. But remember little one, too much pride can consume a man.. Swallow him.. Do you know who I speak of?"
Ard shook his head. "Who?"
"..Your father." The woman said.
Ard looked down on the musty floor.
Ard's father had died 10 years ago. He betrayed the empire, and joined a force with the Mour, for money, and of course, pride.
He was killed by the King himself, in a bloody duel of swords. Ard, and all other villagers he had ever known, never knew anything more fo him.
"Ah, so you remember your father's death? As you I... As do I..." The woman murmered.
"This story begins with a man much like him, on a quest for money and pride. He does not have a name," said the woman as she pulled her face closer to Ard's. "but, we shall call him: Drane. A fine name, eh?"
Ard nodded his head, eager to continue the story.
"He, like your father, joined a Mour force. He was paid with lush gardens, and thick were his pockets of gold."
She shifted herfself in the chair, and looked out the small window that faced the sunrise.
"But, one day, he became foolish, and challenged the Mour chief to a duel, in a quest to rule the Mour empire, and destroy his own..."
The woman looked back Ard and smirked.
"But," she said. "being as skilled as this man was, he was the victor after hours of merciles dueling. He had won with a blow to the head."
Ard smiled. He loved fighting and magic, and was his dream to learn, but for a local farmboy living in Waut, it was truley unlikely. The guards at the canyons were good enough.
"After that, he ruled the Mour empire for ten long years, attacking villages, almost every one, except this one.." she said. "But, somewhere in between those nine years, there was ruled a new king. And his name, we shall call: Drotag. Drotag had sent a spie to one of the many Mour camps, when it was there-"
"There what?" Ard interupted.
The woman lowered her head.
"It was there, that she saw him."
"Him? Who is 'him'?" Ard questioned.
"The Mour king.."
Ard gave himself a mental kick for not knowing such an easy question.
"It was here, that she stayed three long days under the blazing sun under a Mour camp. On the third day, she saw something strange..."
"Wha-"
"Do not interupt," she scolded. Then, the woman smirked. "It is getting to the good part."
Ard nodded, and let her continue the story.
"She saw the king, her king, and the Mour chief in a fiece battle."
Ard had started to wonder if this was begining to be familiar.
Hm... I wonder what she means? he pondered.
"The spie then un cloaked herself, revieling her identity, and to stop the battle in fear her king would die." the old woman said.
"Who was she?" Ard asked.
"Ah! Little one! Do you not know who I speak of?"
"Um.. No, grandmother." said Ard.
The woman laughed, then gave Ard a michievious smirk.
"Me."
Ard gasped.
"It-you were the spie? You were a spie for the empire?"
"Oh yes, many years ago.. Many, many years.... Shall we now continue the story?"
Ard nodded in disbelief. His grandmother was a spie.
Could it be true? He wondered.
"But, by the time I got their, it was too late. Do you know who was the victor?"
"No.. Who was it?" Ard asked.
"Ah... So full of questions, young one.. So full of them... The victor," she smiled. "Like someone you know, was the king. And, do you know who was not the victor, yet killed?"
What could she mean!? Ard thought.
"Your father.." she said.
"You were there?! Why did you not stop it? How could you!?"
Ard stood up in anger.
"Ah, this is of which I feared.. Ard, there are certain things, in which we have no control over. Do you know what that is?"
Ard losened up his anger and started to sit back down.
"No... I don't..."
"It is none other than destiny, my boy... Destiny.." she said. "Now, go find your mother in the fields. I am sure she would appreciate some help." she ordered.
Well, here is a small draft of a small part of chapter 1... Enjoy:
Chapter 1: A Good Story
(Please note this is a DRAFT and a SMALL PART of chapter 1..)
"Ah, young one.. I see you have come." whispered the old woman.
"Yes, grandmother. What stories do you have in store for me this day?" said Ard.
"Oh, a good one, yes.."
The old woman reached over for a shelf, and picked a scroll out of the many that were on the wall.
She slowly and gently took it out of the nook, and unfolded it.
"Are you ready, young one?"
"Yes," replied Ard.
"Ok, then.. Let me begin.."
The woman cleared her throught as she read:
"A good story always begins where it ends, as does this one.. This is not a story of triumph, victory, and honor, yet one of pride. Victory does not yet matter, if you have nothing to show for it, eh?"
Ard nodded his head, interested in what was to happen next.
"Aye. But remember little one, too much pride can consume a man.. Swallow him.. Do you know who I speak of?"
Ard shook his head. "Who?"
"..Your father." The woman said.
Ard looked down on the musty floor.
Ard's father had died 10 years ago. He betrayed the empire, and joined a force with the Mour, for money, and of course, pride.
He was killed by the King himself, in a bloody duel of swords. Ard, and all other villagers he had ever known, never knew anything more fo him.
"Ah, so you remember your father's death? As you I... As do I..." The woman murmered.
"This story begins with a man much like him, on a quest for money and pride. He does not have a name," said the woman as she pulled her face closer to Ard's. "but, we shall call him: Drane. A fine name, eh?"
Ard nodded his head, eager to continue the story.
"He, like your father, joined a Mour force. He was paid with lush gardens, and thick were his pockets of gold."
She shifted herfself in the chair, and looked out the small window that faced the sunrise.
"But, one day, he became foolish, and challenged the Mour chief to a duel, in a quest to rule the Mour empire, and destroy his own..."
The woman looked back Ard and smirked.
"But," she said. "being as skilled as this man was, he was the victor after hours of merciles dueling. He had won with a blow to the head."
Ard smiled. He loved fighting and magic, and was his dream to learn, but for a local farmboy living in Waut, it was truley unlikely. The guards at the canyons were good enough.
"After that, he ruled the Mour empire for ten long years, attacking villages, almost every one, except this one.." she said. "But, somewhere in between those nine years, there was ruled a new king. And his name, we shall call: Drotag. Drotag had sent a spie to one of the many Mour camps, when it was there-"
"There what?" Ard interupted.
The woman lowered her head.
"It was there, that she saw him."
"Him? Who is 'him'?" Ard questioned.
"The Mour king.."
Ard gave himself a mental kick for not knowing such an easy question.
"It was here, that she stayed three long days under the blazing sun under a Mour camp. On the third day, she saw something strange..."
"Wha-"
"Do not interupt," she scolded. Then, the woman smirked. "It is getting to the good part."
Ard nodded, and let her continue the story.
"She saw the king, her king, and the Mour chief in a fiece battle."
Ard had started to wonder if this was begining to be familiar.
Hm... I wonder what she means? he pondered.
"The spie then un cloaked herself, revieling her identity, and to stop the battle in fear her king would die." the old woman said.
"Who was she?" Ard asked.
"Ah! Little one! Do you not know who I speak of?"
"Um.. No, grandmother." said Ard.
The woman laughed, then gave Ard a michievious smirk.
"Me."
Ard gasped.
"It-you were the spie? You were a spie for the empire?"
"Oh yes, many years ago.. Many, many years.... Shall we now continue the story?"
Ard nodded in disbelief. His grandmother was a spie.
Could it be true? He wondered.
"But, by the time I got their, it was too late. Do you know who was the victor?"
"No.. Who was it?" Ard asked.
"Ah... So full of questions, young one.. So full of them... The victor," she smiled. "Like someone you know, was the king. And, do you know who was not the victor, yet killed?"
What could she mean!? Ard thought.
"Your father.." she said.
"You were there?! Why did you not stop it? How could you!?"
Ard stood up in anger.
"Ah, this is of which I feared.. Ard, there are certain things, in which we have no control over. Do you know what that is?"
Ard losened up his anger and started to sit back down.
"No... I don't..."
"It is none other than destiny, my boy... Destiny.." she said. "Now, go find your mother in the fields. I am sure she would appreciate some help." she ordered.
