*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1603746-VaanBleedingRosePrologue
by Vaan
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Experience · #1603746
He lost everything, including his life, trying to protect this place from them.
Authors Note: This is still rather rough and I would greatly appreciate any corrections and suggestions are welcome too. I feel as if the flow is not how it should be, so comments or any thoughts on that, or anything else for that matter, are greatly welcomed!
Well enjoy-I'll post any updates I have, and as i edit I'll add on further chapters... Or parts of them.
Alright, enjoy!



                                                                        Prologue

         Black trees jutted up from the bloody muck, their branches intertwining grotesquely as they consumed the dark crimson rivulets gushing together through the created maze, cutting it's way towards the caverns. The thousand tiny rivers accumulated around the monstrous oaks where they poured into forming lakes, pooling around the enormous trunks. Yet the deepest pool was that which islanded the center most, and unquestionably largest of the giants-its thick limbs twisting outwards as its' silhouette stretched every possible direction; a loaming doom and heavy presence.
         Their wooden bodies were crudely discolored, lacking the breath of life they once held so high, like a monarch, and yet despite their death they somehow lived-feeding off the life forces given them involuntarily; the only source of their abnormal life.
         Black red branches scrapped long, crude fingernails along the base of the heavens-colored with swirling smoke blue mists retreating from the earth as they pulled it down, pulling themselves upwards through the raging thunder which pealed like mad laughter.

         The sky crackled with energy and streaks of lighting knifed through the skies ragged seams, black rains purring steadily. As the thunder faded off into the distance the rains sorrowful song became the only sound on the still battle field, replacing the mad laughter, eating away at sanity. It had turned the trenches into a growing tomb; entire corpses swallowed without moments warning, their pale lifeless limbs sinking gradually from sight as they settled into their final, unmarked grave.
         Vanishing without ceremony or blessing, with no notice or recognition after all the long battles they had fought seemed oddly appropriate; they had had their glory, they would be remembered in the ballads. Now they could have their peace. It was as if putting all the terrible memories of this year long war to rest.
         And yet it would not be forgotten.          

         The serenity of death hung amongst the purring rain.

         From amongst the carnage of the battle field, on the far bank of one of the trenches and between several bodies washed clean of the sick much, came slight movement-catching the attention of stillness as the lone warrior raised his head from where he laid in an exhausted heap.
         He remained still, recovering strength before drawing his battered body further into a partial sitting position, drinking the sick air swirling amongst the retreating mists, awareness of both himself and his cruel surroundings returning with every cold breath. Yet before both feet were under him he suddenly keeled over, clutching at the bloody bandages as he steadied himself again, eyes squinted shut against the agonizing pain while praying to the good Lord that they would keep his guts in a little longer-if only a little.
         Casting weary eyes about he starred at the butchery and gore, able to remember walking for forever dragging the broken end of his sword behind him, in search of someone, searching for anyone who could still be helped, who could still be brought home to their family... And then-blackness. He supposed he had collapsed at some point though he couldn't remember when; it had all been such a blur... Couldn't remember when he had last had something to eat or drink, but those pains had simply blended in all the others. It seemed unimportant.

         The man pulled his feet under him again, feeling the muck sucking familiarly at his feet. And yet, looking upon this distressing illustration he couldn't help but remember the image wrought forever into his mind of other trenches; filled with milled meat-few pieces still recognizable as human. All the good men, his comrades who had become close friends, who had fallen there to protect those they left only to have said their last good bye... He was lucky to be alive as it was, and yet the victor wasn't sweet at all. Everywhere was the over powering stench of ammonia mixed with the all too common reek blood, the black rains stirring the mess together as though it were cold stew.
         
         He took a step forward, panting heavily with the effort and stopped, feeling a shaky hand loosely reaching for his ankle, weakly holding on as life weakly held him.
         “My Lord...” the dry and raspy voice of a dead man gasped, “My Lord...” It pleaded again, “Please... Please, forgive me... I have... failed you...” He coughed though gripped the muddy ankle tighter, forcing his chin up from the mud.
         He knelt beside his last living comrade-a helmet less man in torn chain mail with bright pleading blue eyes peering through a mat of dark, rain plastered hair.
         Taking his head between both hands as he placed his forehead against his in a gentle gesture, “You have not failed me yet Kailan-you fought well, right to the bitter end. You have earned your rest.” Shifting his gaze towards the first sign of light, breaking across the far horizon, “Look now brave hero; the sun has returned to welcome you home.”
         Pulling himself up with the broken shaft of spear lying between them he dipped his head solemnly, turning to face the sun without turning his back on his friend.
         Kailan starred blankly at the brilliant light reflected in his eyes as he witnessed his last sunset on this earth, his Lords raven wing hair catching the last trails of the day while the moister on his face glistened, rain fading to a dull drizzle. From where he lay looking up, his King looked like an angel of battle-strong and steadfast despite his grave wounds, standing firmly on his own two feet while his enemies lay amongst the refuse, hacked to the point unrecognizable.
         Allowing his eyes to close half way, and feeling the warmth on his face one last time his hand slipped away as a long satisfied sigh escaped his lips before as lay still and became silent.

         Swaying uneasily on two feet his lord  took a step forward, steadying himself though he bent down to close the eyes of his fallen friend, straightening back up and turning to face the light once more for a time.
         “... Chaos.” A lone tear drop finally slipped free of his dark eyes, washing a clean line down his filthy cheeks before falling to mingle with the reddened muck where black roots thrust grotesquely upwards, tangling together and away in the silent stillness of death...
         “Chaos...” He repeated, voice barely a whisper, choked with pain, “Is this all he wants...? To hurt, to cause unrelenting pain as if these lives were merely pieces on a chess board? … A game.” He dropped his broken sword he had been holding loosely in his powerful hands, words becoming stronger, “Yes... A game; that's all this is to him, isn't it?”
         His eyes were suddenly hard again, fierce with determination, strength seeming to return at once to the swaying.
                “It's time I returned back home and figured this mess out.” Shaking his head, “I'm sorry Elaina-I only wish I could stay here, now of all times. But I foresaw this possibility and things are prepared for the future. No matter what comes to pass, the two of you will be alright. That much is assured for the time being. Take good care of him and raise him with honorable values... One day-he'll be needed.” At that he stepped forward, allowing the crimson to flow freely from the deep gouge in his side.
          And in less than a blink of an eye he was skyward, glimmering white feathers cascading down upon the fallen army, many splotched with dew drops of blood as they caught the wind that scattered them.
         His sun darkened body continued to spiral ever upwards, past the dark clouds towards the waning moon in the light of day, and in a blinding flash of light, he disappeared-leaving behind nothing more than stained feathers from the human angel of his dragon heart...
© Copyright 2009 Vaan (lucky-xiii at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1603746-VaanBleedingRosePrologue