hey people, here's a story i've been writing, i'm only gonna post the beginning of it so far, so tell me what you think please!
Before the Blade Falls
By Greg Yancey
June 16, 2005
It was a brisk and pale night on top the mountain, reminiscent to the night Takeshi Akuro had left his home, in anger of the pain he felt because his father left him to the stinging bites of winter’s cold. The air was thin, and nine year old Akuro had only a blanket and the clothes on his back to try to block out even a mere piece of the piercing wind that carried on through his lonely days and nights.
Seven Years Later
The morning was much calmer than the night. The wind was not strong and not as harsh as last night. The creek was frozen over but still flowing underneath the solid sheath of ice. The trees were singing tranquilly while calmly blowing in the wind. Akuro’s eyes opened to see that the morning sun was masked behind the pale gray clouds and from them came snow fall, laying a thin white blanket across the peaceful land.
Akuro sat up and brushed the snow off of his hair and looked at last night’s fire. The fire was gone, but the embers were still as orange as the fire itself. He put some sticks and twigs that he had gathered and threw them on the embers. Akuro leaned down and started to blow into the fire pit. It wasn’t long before a small flame ignited and danced around in the breeze. The fire felt good, the warmth helped him to rid himself of the shivering he had experienced all through the night and did, eventually, bring temporary comfort to the brisk morning.
Over the fire, Akuro had set up a makeshift stand of twine and sticks and from it hung a single pot for cooking. In it at that time were tea leaves that Akuro had taken from one of the mountain’s town merchants and some water from the nearby creek. After a few minutes, the water started to boil and the scent of the tea was thick in the air surrounding the flames. It was a soothing smell, pleasant to just take in while sitting next to a fire and away from the wind. He took the sharpened stick he had made and attached a small fish to the end, stuck it in the fire, and held it there. The snow was still falling and would probably continue all day and all night. The small pieces of cold dust continued to fall upon Akuro’s face, making him even colder. He knelt closer to the fire.
Akuro put the soaking hood of his robe over his now drenched black hair that just covered his tired brown eyes. He had not had a full night of sleep because of the wintry bitter air. It was colder than the other nights that year; much colder, causing Akuro to awaken periodically through the night.
The fish was done cooking. Akuro then seized a small wooden plate he had made from underneath a sheet of cloth. He took the fish from the fire and gently set it on that plate and set it next to the fire pit. Then out from under that same sheet, he grabbed a ceramic teacup he had also taken from the same merchant from which he got his tea and set it in next to him. Akuro grabbed the pot and poured the steaming hot liquid into the teacup. He watched the steam gather and then float away in the breeze, leaving a warm touch on Akuro’s face. He drank the tea and finished the fish.
The wind was starting to calm, and became bearable enough to step away from the comforting heat of the fire. Akuro went to his tent and reached for his last bag of rice to boil. There was just enough for a bowl or two. He went back to the fire and put some fresh new water in the pot hanging above the fire, and dumped half of what was left of the rice into it. He sat again, staring at the fire, remembering his past.
Ever since he had been thrown out to live on his own, he had longed for someone, for someone to care for him and to help him, but no one ever came, no one ever cared. Soon his heart became desperate and he would spend hours, weeping for the love that his father never gave.
Through all he had been through, he never sought revenge, just a spark of hope to guide him along the dark days and cold nights that he spent. To wait that some day he would achieve his dreams, to become a man of a good heart and raise a family well, and to not turn out to be a cold hearted person, like his father.
Akuro’s one desire in life, was to be a warrior. He wanted so greatly to be one of the honorable men who fought for a cause, and not just themselves. He did not desire individual recognition, but wanted to be one of many who would defend their rights and honor with their lives. If anything, that is what he craved.
I need to get more food. I am too low. I need to get moving….
Akuro walked down next to the creek that flowed right by the edge of the town. It was always a long walk, but now the winter air was colder than ever, stinging against Akuro’s face. The wind was giving him chills, even with the multiple layers of clothing. At Akuro’s side was a big empty sack; that is where he will store his stolen goods.
As Akuro got closer to the town, he could hear the sounds of the people scampering around swiftly so that they may get what they need and go home away from the cold. The children were taking their time playing in the snow outside their homes or drifting away from their parents on the road. It is a beautiful scene; many trees covered with snow, all the hills, and the town, all covered in a white blanket of snow. Everything peaceful looking. The motion of the people and the town blended perfect to the tranquility of the forest and the scenery. Akuro walked closer to the town and the noises grew clearer and louder, while the calm surrounding of the town was fading.
It was hard to tell if it was morning, the clouds were too thick to see where the sun was. Though Akuro could always tell, it was almost an instinct. The feel of morning, the calm of the wind, and the smell of what was being cooked in the town. It was definitely morning. That meant that there was enough time to get what he needed, and prepare for another cold night back at his small camp he liked to call home.
Akuro tried to take only what was necessary for a day or so, like rice, some fish, tea, and another blanket to keep him warm. He walked inconspicuously throughout the town, though it was difficult because he looked chaotic compared to everyone else, with his torn cloths and such. But he got by without drawing any attention. He took everything he needed, including some money. And he took maybe a little more than he should have, a couple sugar coated bread rolls, but nothing too much.
As he was leaving, he looked back and saw the town for the last time that day, trapping the memory of peace inside so that he may remember that morning. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but what else peaceful did he have to remember?
He walked along the creek that flowed next to the town and up to his home. Slowly the trees became denser until they became a forest, and the smell of the pine trees was thick in the air. The only sounds he could hear was the mostly iced over creek, the sound of the trees as they were hit by the howling wind, and his footsteps.
It always seemed that the walk was too short for Akuro. He never wanted it to end. He wished he could walk in the tranquility forever, but reality is stronger than hopes. So Akuro just stopped at his home neighboring the creek.
As he trailed away from the creek, Akuro sensed something different in the atmosphere. There was noise that he picked up, it sounded like a steady movement, like footsteps, but he couldn’t be sure. But than at once, Akuro felt that something was coming towards him fast, something dangerous, and it was getting closer. Akuro ducked suddenly and above him flew an arrow and stuck into the tree behind him. He quickly looked back to see where it came from and Akuro moved slightly to the side and in front of his face was another arrow. Akuro then fell to the ground and rolled up against a tree as one more arrow sliced its way close to his foot. The footsteps were getting closer, and Akuro reached out to grab a stick nearby, and as soon as he retrieved the stick, Akuro suddenly fell to his chest and a sword cut through the tree and above his head. Akuro got out of the way and took a glance at who was doing this. It was a man of normal height and build, but he was obviously skilled with a sword. Akuro dropped his stick and ran back to his tent and came out with a pole. The man took a run at Akuro, and Akuro dodged one of the swings the man had taken at him, and he swung the poll and hit the man on his head and instantaneously the man fell to the ground unconscious.
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