1 Name: Fourty-for. : 2012-12-07 01:04 ID:gh++aKwj [Del]
A short story I wrote for a class once. Might need to break it up...
The rainy season had come, and the water ran down the sides of the cupola, but the man with the piercing grey eyes and pale white hair had come to associate the sounds of the rain and the fragrance of rain on dust with birth and renewal, and there was nothing more in the world that the Lord loved than striding down the myriad of halls and corridors and standing out on the balcony and watching his desert explode and bloom with thousands of colors and flowers, revived by the rain.
His visit to the garden balcony would have to wait for the rain to subside however, for most of the people in the desert believe that the howling of the winds are associated with the howling of the various djinn and the lost and damned souls, the Lord shivers has the halls scream with the sounds of the wind outside, knowing that he was only a few feet from their bony grasp and his demise.
The Lord of the Desert headed down to visit the city’s magi, and first he had to stride down the labyrinth of corridors and mazes that made up the castle and the tunnels that connected the castle to the Under City.
There was only one person with the arrogance to leave the window of their room open, and that is the city’s magi.
The city’s magi was a man of a sinister reputation, it was said that he sneaked into the graveyards at night and stole the bones to perform unspeakable rites over them in an attempt to summon the dead, though there was no way to prove these allegations.
The Lord of the Desert sighed and picked up his cane on the way down to the tunnels, sure, that he would need a bludgeon of some form for all manners of creatures stalked them during the rainy season.
The constable nodded to the Lord and said to him, “My Lord, despite our best efforts, the tunnels remain full of all forms of vermin, including two legged ones.”
The tunnels seemed to take on an ominous glower has the doors opened, and the Lord considered leaving that instant and waiting for the rain to subside to make this trip, but he changed his mind and headed into the deep and dark tunnel down the steps.
Eventually he arrived at his destination and knocked three times on the trap door, which swung open, and with a face full of contempt for being disturbed, the city’s magi peered into the shaft of light at the Lord of the Desert
Abruptly, he dropped the ladder, as if aiming to knock in the Lord’s skull for daring to trespass on his sacred sanctuary.
The Lord’s demeanor towards the magi revealed that there was no love lost between the two, and he was only here because he had no other reason, otherwise he would have fled back into the warmth of his bed.
“You must have had something to make you courageous enough to brave the Tunnels in this weather, My Lord,” the magi sneered at the title.
The wind suddenly shrieks through an open window, and it sounds like queerly like that of a woman’s scream, it set the Lord on edge.
“Whether or not you like it, Magi, you are one of my constituents and subject, and I periodically do have to check on you particularly when you leave your windows open on nights such has this,” the Lord said to him softly, not wanting to show that the man’s beady little eyes, long dirty grey hair, cracked yellow finger nails, and rotting teeth threw him off balance.
There was a surge of rain coming and the Lord could feel it and see it through the open window, it made him very nervous, so he turned his attention back to the magi, waiting for his response.
The magi did not seem to be aware of his guest’s near hysterical state at the sudden onslaught of the rain; he remained silent as ever, waiting for the Lord to speak.
“But that is not why you are here, My Lord, is it?” the magi asked silently, looking at the Lord who spoke thusly, “You are correct, we have heard rumor that you have been keeping children hostage for what dark beings you serve.”
“Surely, such a vicious rumor cannot be taken to heart, can it?” asked the magi, who began to move about his home with the intimate knowledge of one who lived there.
The Lord would watch the magi, his eyes frantically skipping back and forth between the open windows and the man, his fear of the djinn outside in the rain building with each passing moment.
His eyes between their desperate searches for djinn outside finally alighted upon the form of a wooden mannequin sitting in the shadows just behind the cupboard that the old magi opened with a soft squeak of its hinges.
The Lord was a man of great integrity, but he knew that the magi’s own was suspect, which was the core of his visit to the man’s home.
The dispatcher had told the Lord that this meeting would only take a few moments, and yet it felt like the magi was purposefully fiddling around to prolong and drag out this meeting and it made the Lord very nervous to think about it.
23.) The magi finally found what he was seeking in the cupboard and returned triumphantly with two mugs of hot tea, and handing one to the Lord he said, “This storm is nothing compared to the Blizzards of the north, there the snow wraiths would come out and freeze you in place if you were not careful!”
With a laugh and a grand sweeping gesture, as the magi took a swill of his mug and smacked his pasty blue lips with satisfaction, the tea was good.
25.) The Lord began to take his own drink to his lips, but was distracted by a sudden gust of wind and a few drip of the brown liquid fell onto his fine garb, which he let out a large moan of anger and disappointment, this trip was going south quickly.
“Oh, quit making a spectacle of yourself, My Lord, it’s only a little bit of brown tea, and it comes right off in the wash!” the magi said.
The Lord tried to ignore the enormous stain already forming and turned his attention back to the matters at hand.
“You see, Magi,” the Lord began, “despite your claims, the ‘vicious’ rumors still linger and persist, stinking up the air of this place. Rumors that are getting harder and harder to dispute every fort night.”
The magi simply shrugged, “I cannot help it if children get lost playing in the innocent meadows of childhood, I am not holding any of them hostage.”
Lord grimaced has he turned to face the magi, his mind forming words with great difficulty.
“I… cannot… do anything… but… face you… with… these rumors,” he said, and slowly his face turned from one of pain to one of bewilderment has the magi smiled triumphantly, and the pain in his stomach increased making it harder for him to form sentences that were coherent and then slowly, they began to fade, and a dead look formed in the Lord’s eyes, one could tell that he was no longer the Lord of the Desert, if one looked close enough, he was naught but a puppet for the magi to control and be the true Lord of the Desert.
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What do you guys think? ^_^?
