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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #2158244
The very beginning of a book idea. Let me know what you think (prologue)
Running through a forest is never easy, especially when pursued. You constantly worry about making sure your feet hit solid ground, dodging limbs, vines, trees and roots and this is only made harder when you're afraid someone's behind you. The blood pounding in your ears, your breath tightening and your lungs aching, praying your legs don't falter, all while know that with one mistake they'll catch up, which is why Kelko ran harder than he'd ever ran before. He knew these woods well from his childhood, but time had changed them. He flew past tress he didnt't recognize, the shades of green appeared darker and even the sunlight hit spots he thought strange. Despite being of nature, nature became his downfall both literally and metaphorically as a root caught his foot and brought him to the ground. It's always what's under you. He turned quickly, knowing there was no longer a point in running, and prepared to defend himself, getting on all fours and concentrating on the land around him. He could sense disturbances if he touched the earth, and this ability only grew stronger the more of his body he used.

"So you thought you could kill a god?" The voice came from behind him, and he turned quickly despite recognizing it. "Come now, Kelko," Said Warwick, "You of all people should know better."

"Should've figured it was you chasing me." Kelko said as he began dropping his guard, the sheen in his eyes vanishing as he stood back up. "We played here as kids. I would have faired better against Borra in an open field." Warwick smirked at the remark. He sat on a branch high above the ground, but he jumped down to stand even with Kelko

"I wouldn't say that, brother, but I was certainly the most suited for hunting you down." Warwick now paced around his brother, running his hand along the trees he passed and leaving them black where he touched.

"Your gift is strengthening, the effects are marking your body now."

"They've been taking their toll for some time now, just in unseen ways. The same applies to you. If your eyes grow much greener they'll turn into emeralds, and I've seen you pull weeds out of your hair." Warwick now came closer, standing face to face with Kelko and grinning. "You know what has to happen now."

"It doesn't have to be like this, brother," Kelko began, leaning against a tree, "We can go our separate ways. I can live in exile."

"You attempted to kill our father. Not only is that treason against the gods, but it is a shame to our family." Warwick replied, stonefaced and eyes growing dark.

Kelko sighed, as he was afraid Warwick's pride would do this. He loved his younger brother dearly, but Morto clouded his judgement. Morto was wrong, and Kelko knew his plans. He'd overheard them at the palace and crafted the most potent poison he could. He slipped it into Morto's goblet and ran immediately. They'd know it was him. He's the only one who could make such a draught.

Kelko placed his hand on the tree he leaned on. "I know, brother, I know." With that, the ground under Warwick shifted. Quicker than he could react, an earthern prison surrounded and encapsulated him. This would at least buy him a few hours, if not a few days.

Kelko began to walk away, going past a few trees before he felt an extreme heat at his back. He turned around, bewildered, and saw the prison beginning to crumble before the side nearest to him exploded open. Out of the tomb stepped Warwick, body engulfed in flame and eyes black as coal.

"That's not possible, you couldn't have unlocked your mantra!" Shouted Kelko.

"I did," Warwick replied, "And it's a shame for you."
© Copyright 2018 M. Gene McCoy (rainbowrequiem at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2158244