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Message to Readers

This is the Prologue to a book I'm writing. Feel free to tell me if this is intriguing enough to get you to keep reading.


March 10, 2020


They came in the middle of the night, sweeping down across the land like a plague of locusts, consuming everything in their path, not caring for friend or foe, for adult or child, for men or women. The marauders came from the far north, wielding heavy battle axes stained with the blood of the previous raids. Huge men wearing animal skins and bear furs, with white skin and hair the color of gold. Who knew that people with such white hair and skin could stain the world so badly with their insanity?The villagers had heard the refugee’s words as they passed through
“A fearsome group,” they said, “Without a single bit of a heart within them.”
“Rubbish!” the Chief said, “Nobody would come that far to simply take what little we have.”
Griffin was only six at the time.
“I tell you! They don’t care! They want blood spilled, and that’s it! They want to see your severed bodies hanging on poles or burning on fires.”
The refugee’s words spread a great deal of fear in the village. Some elected to leave. Most stayed. The weather was fair, the hunting was good, and the fields were sown.
More refugee’s came, in larger and larger groups as the marauders came closer and closer. They still spoke of their fear. But this time, the came with horrible news.
“The marauders raided Cessandria! Lord and Lady Marslan had to flee, and up the city went in flames.”
Cessandria! The largest city in the area! Oh, the stories of the wealth there. It was said that wine rained from the sky, and its pools were filled with gold. The people there were neglectful of the area of around them, which was a good thing, since the previous Council had almost taxed the farmlands to death.
The entire village met once more, the Chief once again stating his disbelief at the force that was winging its way down the Alora Vale.
“They cannot reach us! We, at the farthest edges of the Empire cannot be touched by these foes.”
Two days later, the Chief’s head would be propped on a pole and his body burned.
The marauders struck without warning, arriving behind the village, and attacking without mercy. Fires already raged around the village, where the fields and forests were alight with a billowing blaze.
“Go! Don’t mourn me, don’t come back!” His father’s words still echoed in his ears.
“No! No! Come! You can make it!” His mother screamed, her voice lost above the din of fire and fury.
“Take the child and run! I’ll distract them! Run!”
He remember his mother screaming, as if she was trapped in the depths of hell, picking him up, and running, as if the world depended on it. It did. At one point, a battle ax had cleaved off his mother’s right ear, a river of blood flowing profusely.
“Go! Go! Run!” His fathers voice grew fainter and fainter, as the darkened meadows flew beneath him. They had started a fire, burning down the village, the huge fire tickling the sky. The dark sky’s laughs blowing wind across the land, whipping the fire higher into a column, a fiery column of wrath.
The warm summer night was filled with stars. Huge peaks dotted the land around them, jutting out from the flat earth like spikes, soaring above them. The plains flew below them, as they ran. Across a cold stream, filled with fish. Around a grassy knoll, where a knobbly oak tree watched them disappear in the horizon. Through a field of wildflowers, brushing against them, wishing them luck.
His mother was silent, still running, her feat carrying them as far away as they could. As the night wore on, the moon began to rise, as thin silver sliver in the sky, watching the plight of the world. As the world flew beneath them, Griffin’s mother began to sing
“Away, Away, we shall go
to a land where flowers grow
to a place where we can stay
to live a life, a life of may.”
“Away, Away, we shall go
far from the places we know
in the sky were gods sit
the heavenly homes of spirits.”
“Away, Away, we shall fly
and set our roots for our tree rise
and give us fruits and shade
that are worth to us like blocks of jade.”
“Away, Away, we shall fly
to a mountain where peace lies,
a waterfall the falls forever
a hand that helps your endeavor.”
“Away, Away, Away, Away,
to a land far, far, far, away.”


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  • March 10, 2020 - 7:47pm (Now Viewing)

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