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So... Hey!
I've been thinking for a long time whether or whether not I should share this text with you guys, for while it is probably among my better writes, it's also a step very close to my professional style as a writer, should I ever become one. But I decided, as long as I add a formal "All rights reserved" and don't really care too much (it's probably going to be edited a fuckload of times before I eventually---maybe publish it.) it's pretty much okay.
So here it is! Fox Cubs, a lovely little tale about some Elven children in a cozy little town called Il'Ean killing and stealing, cursing and crushing all about the place. I hope you like it
Warning: Might contain cross language, tiny bits of sexual hinting and vulgarity.
He opens his eyes midways in emptying his lungs in a tremendous scream with a spray of raindrops tearing at his flesh. Yet he’s barely capable of understanding why no sound reverberates through his mouth before he’s caught back by his complete lack of strength, followed by his head falling back to resume its former position with a thud. “My-oh my, you really scared me” Rang the voice of a girl, apparently inches away. A rush of pain scurries through his head and neck, he winces and let’s his eyes travel around. Everything is a blur and he knows it’s not only because of the rain, upon regaining conscience he feels the chill of the evening on his soaked skin, and he’s freezing. “Oh well, who are you? Just lying here on a bench all wet and after sleeping hours? Don’t you know it’s kind of dangerous?” inquired the same voice, in a weird dialect.
Who am I? Why am I here, where is here? He thought.
“I... I don’t know.” He replied, sincerely, for he honestly couldn’t remember anything beyond raindrops and strange dialects. He tried getting up to a sitting position, ungraciously and falteringly probably, but he managed. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimmed watery environment and the form of a girl right in front of him slowly became visible. She looked to be of his age, though he didn’t entirely know his own age, and she was beautiful. Her eyes were shining stars in the darkness, icy blue touched with a hint of pure-blooded Occ’Id shine, her hair was long and neat, frosty white with shades of blonde intermingled. She peeked at him from under a sky-blue umbrella and her garments were of similar colour, though somehow to him they were immaterial. Her eyes were filled with curiosity mixed with a sense of intrigue; she opened her mouth to sing another melody of words...
“Well then, little miss!” Came another voice, rough and unpleasant from behind her, completely cutting her short and startling them both. “Might I enquire as to why two young children like you are outdoors this late?” He continued, blinding them both with the blaze of an Ahlóren, an elven oil-lamp containing peculiar crystals that absorb daylight and illuminate at night-time.
The girl gasped and quickly started fumbling for something in her pocket.
“I--- I’ve got a pass, don’t touch me, I’ve got a pass!” she exclaimed, trying to wrench herself out of the man’s iron-tight grasp, flashing a small card-piece in front of his face. He grunted and let go of her, grabbing the card-piece and eyeing it with distaste.
“Well, fuck... Right then Miss Joay, you’re free, but what about your boyfriend over there?” He asked, eyeing the boy like a shark on the scent of blood. She blushed and quickly scurried to the side.
“He’s--- He’s not my boyfriend!” she exclaimed, giving the boy a worried look.
The stranger became visible to him now, as his eyes adapted to the light. It was a grown elf, robust looking and filthily clothed, his features were all suggesting mischief and his eyes shone with pure evil to the boy.
“Do you have a parent’s pass, boy?” He asked, closing the distance and bending over only inches from the boy’s face, revealing a horrid breath and rows of rotting-like untended teeth. Between his throbbing headache and lack of strength he’d been rightly scared by the figure in front of him, and was hence incapable of responding. “Answer me boy!” The man spat into his face.
“I don’t know!” The boy exclaimed in mere hysteria. Then smiled the stranger, he grabbed his wrist and wrenched the boy up from the bench, dragging him along.
“Wrong answer” He said delightedly, snorting indulgently. The girl stood by watching, as if paralyzed, as the great man dragged the wet boy along toward a wagon. But as the boy slipped and fell into the murky dirt on the road the girl came to herself.
“Wait! He’s my little brother, he forgot his pass at home, and he must have hit his head. I--- I swear, let me bring him home!” She exclaimed hysterically. The man laughed and gave the girl a defeating look, smiling sleekly.
“Well, that’s a shame. Be sure to tell your parents they can pick him up tomorrow, at the Panothelly Kennel, just south-west of Konera. If he’s your brother now, that is.” He answered, opening the backdoors of his wagon and throwing the muddied, wet and sobbing boy into a dark chamber. Inside the wagon were other children of the same or about the same age as his, he looked up and saw only sorrow on their faces, they were shackled together on two benches at either side of the cabin. The man quickly followed, clawed at his wrists and shackling him with the other children before he closed the backdoors with a chirr and a bang, then the wagon took off, to “just south-west of Konera,” wherever that was, thought the boy.
Thundering hooves and chirring chart-wheels sang a melody of misery upon a scarcely used and dreggy road in the midst of En Grotzo of Il’Ean. Inside the orchestrator of the tune, a looming slave wagon, sat a porcine unshaven elf man surrounded by children in chains. He was Ferently Panothelly, husband of Tryana Selvemo Panothelly otherwise known as “Mother.” In radiant delight his eyes darted from child to child as he composed a choir of whimpering with his obscene chortles. “I never grow tired of watching the sad faces of children like you lot, so small, so helpless... So innocent.” he smirked, unveiling his ghastly breath to the dismay of those surrounding him. “You two” He continued pointing a blemished finger at the two girls he’d happened to seat himself between. “You’re twins, right?” he grinned, and snorted indulgently as he received hesitant nods. “You’re jewels, and of proper age too. I bet you’ll be pleasing some rich fucker in no time, after I’ve had my way with you first of course” All the while disgracefully touching the girls with his crooked hands. Then, after having defiled the girls, he turned his deceitful eyes toward a skinny Merrdien boy opposite himself. “And you, little brat. I reckon you won’t even outlast the first week of your stay in the kennel.” He smirked; shifting slightly, for the bench was ale-stained. “I’ll be enjoying myself watching the other kids kick in that tiny little ribcage of yours, there’ll likely even be a reward for one of them.” Hollering with laughter while the Merrdien boy buried his face into hands, he turned to another boy right next to the whimpering one. The oldest of the lot and the weirdest too, his ears were not very alvish looking, not by any of the four races’ standard, and his skin wasn’t as neat and tidy as normal elves. “you---“ he began with a smile.
“I, Ferently Panothelly, am Mavíec Es’Tharonto, soon to be engaged in your demise.” The boy cut him short.
The twins quickly clasped the iron cuffs they’d just recently wriggled themselves out of around Martelly’s wrists, shortly followed by the weird boy’s flight forward with a piece of cloth to gag him. “Now, now... We don’t want you fuck-head to ruin our magnificent plan, do we?” he whispered, to the sound of a multitude of gasps. “Nice work Pieni, Penora. Now quickly, we must free the others before it happens. Jiache, the time?” he first addressed the twins, and then turned to the small Merrdien boy. Lifting his head, visibly not having cried at all, the boy smiled.
“I’d reckon somewhere between three to four minutes, though I’m not certain, Mavíec, see the shit-head kind of skewered my counting.” He answered, ruefully eyeing the struggling grown-up.
“Mavíec, we can’t find the keys!” Pieni whispered in annoyance.
“Not even anywhere!” Penora commented, smiling slyly and nudging her hand forcefully, to the apparent dismay of Ferently.
“Ah yes, I kind of lifted those on the way in, Gods bless feckless people.”
Mavíec smiled, and threw the keys to Pieni.
While the girls were busy freeing the other children Mavíec turned to Ferently once more. “You probably don’t even remember me, do you? Well, I remember you. I’ll have you know I could spill your brains onto this wooden floor without wincing at all, but you deserve worse, much worse.” He hissed, pulling out a small “Thieves Hook,” a knife with an outwardly curved blade, mostly used for lifting purses or other valuables from inside people’s coat-pockets. Out of nowhere came a hissing sound like a concentrated fire, at first very subtly but soon grew high pitched. “It’s time” Smiled Mavíec, closing the distance between himself and Ferently. Like a surgeon he first cut off the mouth-piece and then made a neat slice over his entire rib-cage. Ferently hollered in pain as blood pulsed from his wound, staining his shirt with glimmering red spots. As if by design the wagon came to a halt, for the handler had heard the screams. Only moments later a tremendous bang could be heard from somewhere outside the wagon. With resolution in their eyes Pieni and Penora burst open the backdoor of the wagon, and together the children ran out into the night. They were complimented by surging heat on their necks and ringing cries of agony in their ears, composed by a blistering wagon at their rear.
All rights reserved, Mats Rafoss.
I've been thinking for a long time whether or whether not I should share this text with you guys, for while it is probably among my better writes, it's also a step very close to my professional style as a writer, should I ever become one. But I decided, as long as I add a formal "All rights reserved" and don't really care too much (it's probably going to be edited a fuckload of times before I eventually---maybe publish it.) it's pretty much okay.
So here it is! Fox Cubs, a lovely little tale about some Elven children in a cozy little town called Il'Ean killing and stealing, cursing and crushing all about the place. I hope you like it
Warning: Might contain cross language, tiny bits of sexual hinting and vulgarity.
Nightmares and Real-mares
1
A scream echoes through his mind.
It haunts him, twists his spine and chases chills through his soul.
Sight’s impossible and movement nonresponsive, he’s blinded,
paralyzed and can scarcely hear a thing, save the echoes of a scream.
Distantly voices float into existence, muffled and estranged yet plain still.
“What’s happened to him, Pevacon?” A woman’s voice trembles on the periphery of hysteria.
Another scream materializes only now the screeching of wheels.
His mind is racing,
his chest is pumping.
He’s trembling,
afraid of something unknown,
his eyes fling in every direction and everything’s a blur.
“Are they still following us?” The woman again, only this time consumed by hysteria.
“Stand back!” Another voice booms out of nowhere. “I will take care of this.” It continues, followed by aberrant sounds and flashes.
Lights and flashes, sounds and echoes, screams and fear... Screams and fear...
A scream echoes through his mind.
It haunts him, twists his spine and chases chills through his soul.
Sight’s impossible and movement nonresponsive, he’s blinded,
paralyzed and can scarcely hear a thing, save the echoes of a scream.
Distantly voices float into existence, muffled and estranged yet plain still.
“What’s happened to him, Pevacon?” A woman’s voice trembles on the periphery of hysteria.
Another scream materializes only now the screeching of wheels.
His mind is racing,
his chest is pumping.
He’s trembling,
afraid of something unknown,
his eyes fling in every direction and everything’s a blur.
“Are they still following us?” The woman again, only this time consumed by hysteria.
“Stand back!” Another voice booms out of nowhere. “I will take care of this.” It continues, followed by aberrant sounds and flashes.
Lights and flashes, sounds and echoes, screams and fear... Screams and fear...
He opens his eyes midways in emptying his lungs in a tremendous scream with a spray of raindrops tearing at his flesh. Yet he’s barely capable of understanding why no sound reverberates through his mouth before he’s caught back by his complete lack of strength, followed by his head falling back to resume its former position with a thud. “My-oh my, you really scared me” Rang the voice of a girl, apparently inches away. A rush of pain scurries through his head and neck, he winces and let’s his eyes travel around. Everything is a blur and he knows it’s not only because of the rain, upon regaining conscience he feels the chill of the evening on his soaked skin, and he’s freezing. “Oh well, who are you? Just lying here on a bench all wet and after sleeping hours? Don’t you know it’s kind of dangerous?” inquired the same voice, in a weird dialect.
Who am I? Why am I here, where is here? He thought.
“I... I don’t know.” He replied, sincerely, for he honestly couldn’t remember anything beyond raindrops and strange dialects. He tried getting up to a sitting position, ungraciously and falteringly probably, but he managed. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimmed watery environment and the form of a girl right in front of him slowly became visible. She looked to be of his age, though he didn’t entirely know his own age, and she was beautiful. Her eyes were shining stars in the darkness, icy blue touched with a hint of pure-blooded Occ’Id shine, her hair was long and neat, frosty white with shades of blonde intermingled. She peeked at him from under a sky-blue umbrella and her garments were of similar colour, though somehow to him they were immaterial. Her eyes were filled with curiosity mixed with a sense of intrigue; she opened her mouth to sing another melody of words...
“Well then, little miss!” Came another voice, rough and unpleasant from behind her, completely cutting her short and startling them both. “Might I enquire as to why two young children like you are outdoors this late?” He continued, blinding them both with the blaze of an Ahlóren, an elven oil-lamp containing peculiar crystals that absorb daylight and illuminate at night-time.
The girl gasped and quickly started fumbling for something in her pocket.
“I--- I’ve got a pass, don’t touch me, I’ve got a pass!” she exclaimed, trying to wrench herself out of the man’s iron-tight grasp, flashing a small card-piece in front of his face. He grunted and let go of her, grabbing the card-piece and eyeing it with distaste.
“Well, fuck... Right then Miss Joay, you’re free, but what about your boyfriend over there?” He asked, eyeing the boy like a shark on the scent of blood. She blushed and quickly scurried to the side.
“He’s--- He’s not my boyfriend!” she exclaimed, giving the boy a worried look.
The stranger became visible to him now, as his eyes adapted to the light. It was a grown elf, robust looking and filthily clothed, his features were all suggesting mischief and his eyes shone with pure evil to the boy.
“Do you have a parent’s pass, boy?” He asked, closing the distance and bending over only inches from the boy’s face, revealing a horrid breath and rows of rotting-like untended teeth. Between his throbbing headache and lack of strength he’d been rightly scared by the figure in front of him, and was hence incapable of responding. “Answer me boy!” The man spat into his face.
“I don’t know!” The boy exclaimed in mere hysteria. Then smiled the stranger, he grabbed his wrist and wrenched the boy up from the bench, dragging him along.
“Wrong answer” He said delightedly, snorting indulgently. The girl stood by watching, as if paralyzed, as the great man dragged the wet boy along toward a wagon. But as the boy slipped and fell into the murky dirt on the road the girl came to herself.
“Wait! He’s my little brother, he forgot his pass at home, and he must have hit his head. I--- I swear, let me bring him home!” She exclaimed hysterically. The man laughed and gave the girl a defeating look, smiling sleekly.
“Well, that’s a shame. Be sure to tell your parents they can pick him up tomorrow, at the Panothelly Kennel, just south-west of Konera. If he’s your brother now, that is.” He answered, opening the backdoors of his wagon and throwing the muddied, wet and sobbing boy into a dark chamber. Inside the wagon were other children of the same or about the same age as his, he looked up and saw only sorrow on their faces, they were shackled together on two benches at either side of the cabin. The man quickly followed, clawed at his wrists and shackling him with the other children before he closed the backdoors with a chirr and a bang, then the wagon took off, to “just south-west of Konera,” wherever that was, thought the boy.
_________________________________________________________
Chained and Unbound
1
This Space is in place of a rather sizable bulk of chapters!
_________________________________________________________Chained and Unbound
1
Thundering hooves and chirring chart-wheels sang a melody of misery upon a scarcely used and dreggy road in the midst of En Grotzo of Il’Ean. Inside the orchestrator of the tune, a looming slave wagon, sat a porcine unshaven elf man surrounded by children in chains. He was Ferently Panothelly, husband of Tryana Selvemo Panothelly otherwise known as “Mother.” In radiant delight his eyes darted from child to child as he composed a choir of whimpering with his obscene chortles. “I never grow tired of watching the sad faces of children like you lot, so small, so helpless... So innocent.” he smirked, unveiling his ghastly breath to the dismay of those surrounding him. “You two” He continued pointing a blemished finger at the two girls he’d happened to seat himself between. “You’re twins, right?” he grinned, and snorted indulgently as he received hesitant nods. “You’re jewels, and of proper age too. I bet you’ll be pleasing some rich fucker in no time, after I’ve had my way with you first of course” All the while disgracefully touching the girls with his crooked hands. Then, after having defiled the girls, he turned his deceitful eyes toward a skinny Merrdien boy opposite himself. “And you, little brat. I reckon you won’t even outlast the first week of your stay in the kennel.” He smirked; shifting slightly, for the bench was ale-stained. “I’ll be enjoying myself watching the other kids kick in that tiny little ribcage of yours, there’ll likely even be a reward for one of them.” Hollering with laughter while the Merrdien boy buried his face into hands, he turned to another boy right next to the whimpering one. The oldest of the lot and the weirdest too, his ears were not very alvish looking, not by any of the four races’ standard, and his skin wasn’t as neat and tidy as normal elves. “you---“ he began with a smile.
“I, Ferently Panothelly, am Mavíec Es’Tharonto, soon to be engaged in your demise.” The boy cut him short.
Interlude:
The Mad Conductor and Maestro
He stepped onto the periphery of his theatre rooftop and absorbed the cloudless night sky; stars glinting in the softened breeze, complimented by a ghostly orchestra playing a darkly tranquil tune. He swayed his hands in tact with the wind, letting his mind reach out to the sleeping hosts of the night. As his dark cape stirred in his facade his masked face rose toward the skies, light from below illuminated his figure, but no blaze was cast upon his body. He was a dark phantom cast upon the skies, black masked, black caped, black clad... He was the Mad Conductor of the Night.
“The Demon and The Innocent, the hunt that knows no end, this will be my show, this will be my ascend. What holds me is life and reality therein, I shall lead this act, and I shall bring forth End.” He whispered into the night, his voice that of who is known as Maestro.
2
The Mad Conductor and Maestro
He stepped onto the periphery of his theatre rooftop and absorbed the cloudless night sky; stars glinting in the softened breeze, complimented by a ghostly orchestra playing a darkly tranquil tune. He swayed his hands in tact with the wind, letting his mind reach out to the sleeping hosts of the night. As his dark cape stirred in his facade his masked face rose toward the skies, light from below illuminated his figure, but no blaze was cast upon his body. He was a dark phantom cast upon the skies, black masked, black caped, black clad... He was the Mad Conductor of the Night.
“The Demon and The Innocent, the hunt that knows no end, this will be my show, this will be my ascend. What holds me is life and reality therein, I shall lead this act, and I shall bring forth End.” He whispered into the night, his voice that of who is known as Maestro.
2
The twins quickly clasped the iron cuffs they’d just recently wriggled themselves out of around Martelly’s wrists, shortly followed by the weird boy’s flight forward with a piece of cloth to gag him. “Now, now... We don’t want you fuck-head to ruin our magnificent plan, do we?” he whispered, to the sound of a multitude of gasps. “Nice work Pieni, Penora. Now quickly, we must free the others before it happens. Jiache, the time?” he first addressed the twins, and then turned to the small Merrdien boy. Lifting his head, visibly not having cried at all, the boy smiled.
“I’d reckon somewhere between three to four minutes, though I’m not certain, Mavíec, see the shit-head kind of skewered my counting.” He answered, ruefully eyeing the struggling grown-up.
“Mavíec, we can’t find the keys!” Pieni whispered in annoyance.
“Not even anywhere!” Penora commented, smiling slyly and nudging her hand forcefully, to the apparent dismay of Ferently.
“Ah yes, I kind of lifted those on the way in, Gods bless feckless people.”
Mavíec smiled, and threw the keys to Pieni.
While the girls were busy freeing the other children Mavíec turned to Ferently once more. “You probably don’t even remember me, do you? Well, I remember you. I’ll have you know I could spill your brains onto this wooden floor without wincing at all, but you deserve worse, much worse.” He hissed, pulling out a small “Thieves Hook,” a knife with an outwardly curved blade, mostly used for lifting purses or other valuables from inside people’s coat-pockets. Out of nowhere came a hissing sound like a concentrated fire, at first very subtly but soon grew high pitched. “It’s time” Smiled Mavíec, closing the distance between himself and Ferently. Like a surgeon he first cut off the mouth-piece and then made a neat slice over his entire rib-cage. Ferently hollered in pain as blood pulsed from his wound, staining his shirt with glimmering red spots. As if by design the wagon came to a halt, for the handler had heard the screams. Only moments later a tremendous bang could be heard from somewhere outside the wagon. With resolution in their eyes Pieni and Penora burst open the backdoor of the wagon, and together the children ran out into the night. They were complimented by surging heat on their necks and ringing cries of agony in their ears, composed by a blistering wagon at their rear.
All rights reserved, Mats Rafoss.
Last edited:
