A portal is found and imagionation controls it. This is only the first chapter.
Metal clashed as the fight for my life began. Jumping back from the wretched hands of death, a sword flew to the ground in defeat. Seeing my chance, I blocked the enemy and drew my weapon to his neck.
“Give it up, Lord Anthony!” I shouted as I drew the sword closer to the pale flesh.
“Never!” he pushed away the blade and shot out from my reach.
As he dove for the abandoned sword, I grabbed the scrawny leg and yanked him back, his fingers just grazing the smooth handle. My weapon flew to the ground as we both went down. Instantly, I changed my tactic and swung at the scrunched up face, only to have a hand come inches within my head. We rolled and I managed to grab my sword before I was struck again.
Running, the sword seemed to guide itself to Lord Anthony, cutting off his attempt to retreat. I pushed the little body against a tree and brought my sword to the frail neck once more.
“Any last words?” I tried my best to hide the growing pit of anxiety in my stomach.
He spat on my shoe and starred me deep in the eye. My grip tightened on the handle of the sword as I prepared for the final kill. His trembling body grew stiff, with his head held high, as if fear had taken a run for it. I looked in his pale face, seeing every freckle and bead of sweat, I was so close. Drawing the sword back, his eyes twitched, revealing that had indeed had the courage to stay with him.
Starring deep into his evil eyes, I whispered the last words.
With that, I shoved the weapon through the air only hearing the sound of revenge. Although the blade neared Lord Anthony for the last time, I heard, not the cry of mercy or begging for forgiveness, but a voice that was as familiar to me as my own flesh and blood.
My arm stopped short of murder as I tried to make sense of the words spoken. They came again, but louder.
“Patrick! Time to come back!”
Seeing this as his opportunity, the wretched criminal slipped from my grasp and dashed into the darkness, only slowing to retrieve his weapon.
“Until we meet again!” I heard as the figure disappeared.
I sighed and slowly walked in the direction of the voice. Lights passed me as my feet carried my tired body across gray slabs. Square rocks stood in rows, each a different color. I stopped at a black box and turned towards my big, red square. Dragging the sword behind me, I walked to the wooden carvings engraved on a red wall and grasped the metal sculpture. It turned and pushed forward. I heard the voice again.
“Patrick, time for dinner.”
As if on cue, my stomach growled and the smell of steak reached my nose.
“Ok mom”, I dropped the sword and walked through the hall of photos, into the dining room where a feast was to be set upon the table. Five wooden chairs stood around it with only one filled.
The little girl squirmed in her seat, just out of reach of the potatoes. Her hand shot back from the attempted theft as she noticed me walking in. I took the seat across from her as she starred at me. I watched as every few seconds, her green eyes would glance down at the food sitting in front of her.
Suddenly, a plate came into my view and I looked away from the hungry little eyes. A cake that stood about 4 inches tall covered in shaved chocolate, was placed right under my nose. Growling came from my stomach as I imagined sneaking a bite.
Before I could commit the crime, my father walked in, dressed in a striped shirt with a green tie. I could see wrinkles sprouting from the base of his tanned neck that spread throughout his tired face. Stress was easily seen in the gray eyes that lay behind a thick pair of glasses.
“Hey kids”, he sank into a chair and set the glasses next to the yellow plate.
“Hi daddy!” the little girl jumped out of her seat and ran to her father.
As she jumped into his lap, he groaned and managed a smile.
“Hey, Pumpkin.” love shown through the stress and reflected onto the innocent child.
“Lila, get off your father, and come sit down, please”, the voice from before, drifted into the room along with the smell of juicy meat.
I turned and found myself starring at a mass of golden curls that illuminated green eyes. Delicate hands held a green platter stacked with smoking meat, the heat still rising off of the cow and disappearing into the air. It was set between the potatoes and cake, before the golden figure sat across from dad and turned her gaze to me.
“How was your day Patrick?” The question floated to my ears and answers bubbled up in my head. Stories of great battles and victories threatened to flow out of my mouth.
Instead of boasting about those wondrous adventures, and forming myself into this great hero who defeats every bit of evil, I told of the fight. I told of how I came within inches of destroying my latest enemy; Lord Anthony. I told of how this despicable creature slithered into my kingdom and I had to fight him off to protect my land.
The women’s eyes filled with excitement as the story flooded out. I tried to explain it as best I could to give her the feeling of watching as I shoved the villain against a tree and prepared to destroy every ounce of him. As the words came out, the story came to life, and once again, I was back in the woods. I watched, as the battle ended, the expression she made, while listening. I have to admit, my mother is a pretty good actress.
“Well, I’m glad that they were only wooden swords, and not real metal blades,” of course her motherly instincts took over.
Conversation quieted as we waited for one more entrance. Finally, we heard the expected footsteps come thudding down the stairs. A figure came into view and it portrayed a smaller version of the great actress. The golden hair was formed into ringlets with a pair of headphones dangling behind them. She took the remaining seat and dinner began.
Spoons dished up potatoes as steak was passed around. Hungry mouths inhaled the food as if it were their last meal. The only sound was forks being scraped against plates. In no time, the steak was reduced to unwanted fat and the potatoes gone. The cake was cut and served to everyone. Soon gone, sighs were heard as I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.
“Well, that was a excellent dinner, I might say”, my dad got up and kissed the golden head of mom.
I could hear words of thanks and feet walking away. I opened my eyes and stood up. Starting up the stairs, I was immediately pulled back.
“Patrick, forgetting something?” Sighing, I spun around on my heel and sluggishly walked back to my awaiting plate. The rest had already been taken away and stacked in the sink, ready to be washed.
Mom stood by the table with a platter in hand. I groaned scooped up the dirty plate. Dramatically placing the plate in the sink, I turned around and gave mom a smirk.
“Thank you,” she returned one.
I raced up the stairs before she noticed that my glass was still on the table. Plunging into my room, I collapsed onto the giant bed and starred at the digital clock. Red numbers glared back at me.
A summer night should not have to end this early. Even though the sun had not yet gone down, my energy had, and my eyes slowly fluttered shut. Images of warriors battling darkness appeared and reality slipped away.