Thursday, 26 July 2012

Friday Fiction: Ascention

I have two novels I want to write.  One is a Fantasy version of Highlander, basically, and the other is a Sci-fi version of... well... Matrix.  Thats my concepts dumbed down to their simpliest expressions.  Obviously, there is more to them otherwise I wouldnt be as excited as I am.

At the moment I am putting all my thought and energy into the "Matrix" one, although the "Highlander" one has been my pet project for the longest time.  For NaNoWriMo, I intend on being prepared for the "Matrix", but I don't really want to abandon "Highlander".  So I have decided most fridays, I will be working on "Highlander", and posting a little bit more every week.

Occasionally, I will change it up.  I dont want to be forced into writing the same thing every week, as the reason for this blog and all the different topics is because I dont want to become bored and give up, which I do often with projects.  I need to keep it varied.  So, without further ado, I present "Ascention".  (Apologies to anyone who has seen this stuff before.  New content will be available soon)
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The man stood still.  It was a warm night, and the man allowed the cool breeze to pass over his naked body.  The crickets were chirping, and although he didn’t know it yet, it was the man’s favorite sound.  He stood, feeling the weight of the object in his hand.  He knew it was important, but for now he didn’t think about it.  He had more important questions racing through his mind.  He stood, allowing the question to repeat itself over and over.  “Who am I?”

He walked a short distance through the trees, and he came to a small puddle.  He knelt down, placing his object beside him.  He stared at the reflection, studying it carefully.  Long curly black hair, dark eyes, strong jaw line and a week’s growth.  He was a ruggedly handsome man, although not the type to admit that to himself.  But the man was disturbed by the reflection.  He picked up his possession and hurried away from the puddle.  The reflection had been that of a stranger.  The man still had no idea who he was.

******

The young girl walked naked along the beach.  Small sobs racked her tiny frame, afraid because she had no idea how she came to be on the beach alone.  She clutched protectively to the only thing she had, a large scabbard that was almost the size of the girl.  Off into the distance, she saw a large gathering of people.  Maybe that’s where she came from?  She wiped her tears from her puffy blue eyes, eyes that held so much innocence.  She ran her fingers through her long straight blonde hair, feeling she should make herself look presentable.  Then she lugged the large scabbard towards the people.

By the time she had arrived, the people had spotted her and started to walk towards her.  They met her halfway, a large man with a necklace made off seaweed and shells confronting her.  They stared at each other for a long while, neither speaking, neither looking away.  The man had a fierce gaze, and it was not one that many could look upon without turning away.  Finally, the girl sobbed, and without looking away, she pleaded, “Help me!”  All who heard the girls’ plea felt her sorrow and pain in their hearts.  The big man’s gaze turned from one of ferocity to sadness.  He nodded, and reached down to grab the strange long object the girl carried.  Suddenly filled with panic, the girl instinctively clutched the scabbard to her breast.  The crowed gasped, and the man was filled with a violent anger.  Who was this girl, to so defy the chief of the Clam Tribe?  But he looked into her eyes once more, and a smile stole his mean visage.  He hoisted her up onto his shoulder, mindful to not hit himself in the head with her package, and proclaimed, “Let all know, that Nasken, Leader of the Clam Tribe has his first daughter.”  The people of the Clam cheered, and the girl, caught up in the moment, giggled with glee.

******

She walked through the woods, naked and uncaring.  A cool breeze caressed her body like the touch of a playful lover.  She reveled in the feeling.  She continued to walk, not a care in the world.  She came to a clump of WaBa trees, a tree with a tough, bendable and reflective bark.  A woman with long red hair, piercing blue eyes, a delicate nose and a well shaped chin stared back at her.  She looked down at the rest of her body, and let her lips curl into a smile.  “You are beautiful…”  She paused as she tried to remember her name.  Unable to grab it, even though it was dancing on the edges of her mind, she instinctively let her anger control her, and she pulled the sword from the scabbard she carried.  A blast of hot energy washed over her as she slashed the tree, it’s tough bark offering no resistance to the finely crafted blade.

She went to strike the tree again, but drawing her sword had released to her some of her memories.  Her name was Sassen, and she was a very, very powerful woman.

******

Where do Gods come from?  Are they born into their omnipotence, or are they forced to shape their own destiny, forge their own niche into our world? Across the small island of Finstaad, many other strange people appeared, naked of all but a sword and scabbard.  Each had their own personality, each very different to the other, and yet so very alike.  Each knew instinctively that there was something special about them, although not all recognized their own power.  Each knew that something big was to happen, and those that made contact with the primitive tribes understood that they had the ability to change the lives of the nomadic people.  Something big was about to happen on the small Island of Finstaad, far to the south of Nor.  And woe to those who were present at the time.

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