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Dawn [Medieval Fantasy/Horror]

Merc

Problematic Shitlord
V.I.P.
A quick piece I put together after some music inspired me. I kind of like the ideas I was coming up with. Maybe it will expand but for now we'll call this 'experimental'.

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"Rise, Sir Raundell, I hearby name you to the Council of the Five Pillars of Filandria as it's High Chancellor. May your service, your strength, your wits and your soul guide you to success and may your blade be the well in which our collective faith and prosperity is drawn from. You have done your King and Queen well."

Applause, applause everywhere. This was the best moment of my life. Shildrock, the ancient blade by my side since the start of my journeys ten years ago as a young man seemed to shiver with excitement as I did. The crowd of thousands and thousands of Filandrians, proud men and joyful women but no smiling children. There were smarter than us, the innocence in their hearts didn't betray them. Why would you celebrate a man who had just killed nearly a hundred others in cold blood? Isn't he a murderer? I did my best to keep those thoughts quelled but I could not ignore them. Tonight there would be feasts, parties and lusting like no other night.

The war had finally ended and Filandria was free of the gruesome rule of Dionorsem, a wicked mage corrupt and drunk with the dark powers of darker magic. His hands could no longer control these lands and his kingdom was dwindling. No longer could his tyrannical rule over the land be sustained. What we could not predict is how he would react to losing this war, a war against a warrior folk like my own.

In his darkest hours of contempt and hatred, Dionorsem unleashed a power he had kept hidden for hundreds of years. Something of a desperation tactic, his father and grandfather before him had passed down a sparkling white stone in the shape of the crescent moon known simple as Dawn. It's crystalline beauty and warm aura are tricks as the true power of the relic is the ability to shape the very world as the user sees fit. Only Dionorsem had figured out how to use it but even he feared it's strength. Yet, loss and pain does things to a human mind that we can never predict until the very moment they occur and Dionorsem was not free of the shackles of the faults of humanity.

It was a suspiciously dark morning. The sun seemed to be just over the horizon, but it never came. A few hours into morning, the townsfolk grew restless. The King sent his mages to the hills to discover the meaning of the strangeness. I stood in silence on the uppermost balcony of baron's Watch, a tower that had been standing for close to a millennium overlooking the entire kingdom below it from it's high place in the mountains. I could see the townsfolk but just barely. Like dust in the flames, their figures were vague and chaotic, tiny and lost. My eyes strained with the bit of light they could catch to see what was happening. I knew the mages would travel for days without seeing the sun. The truth was, it was too late. I could travel the few hours it would take down the mountain and into the city of Filandria herself and announce the terrors we would soon be facing. But by the time everyone had the time to start screaming in fear, they would be here.

Dawn, according to Filandrian myths is an old fragment of the Creator's bones, given in sacrifice to create this world. Dahv, as it was called, gave up one of its fingers to craft this world and Dawn was a piece that was never used and was instead lost to time. Due to this belief, many Filandrians believe that Dawn can create anything the holder desires. Dionorsem and the Mage's Hall at Crayden held the true story of its origin. Dawn was a fragment of war, a war fought between Dahv and a dark entity that has not been spoken of since the beginning of existence. No religious texts or preachers could tell you about it because no one knows of its very being. Dionorsem and his kin called it simply Zio. A counter to the goodness of Dahv and thus necessary to the world's balance. When Dahv managed to finally seal Zio away, It failed to catch a simple, falling piece of its massive crystalline prison that drifted to Earth thousands of years ago.

Zio remains somewhere in the deep heavens, in the cold blackness of the sky and far away from us. But the piece that fell to Earth, the artifact known as Dawn is actually a fragment of Zio Itself, a last breath before it was frozen in time in hopes that it could return and defeat Dahv.

Dionorsem did not have a complete understanding of the power he had in his hands. However, he did know the chant to release the crystal into the sky and to free its dark will into our world. You see, the sun did rise that morning, it was simply behind a thick fog of what we would come to call Nightmares, creatures made entirely of the substance Zio was born from and that could transform their hideous, gelatinous bodies at will and lived only to cause destruction.

The blade at my side, Shildrock, burned with fury as its ancient magic was sensitive to the forces now entering our lands. The sheath itself caught on fire as I quickly released the sword from its resting place. The blade glowed a bright blue and flames fluttered off of it like whisps of smoke. I knew many of its powers but my weapon had never reacted to the enemy like this before. I knew that things were about to change, that not only Filandria, but most likely the entire continent as well as Crayden and Dionorsem's lands were as glowflies in the night, insignificant bugs utterly exposed and defenseless.

The thoughts of the slaughter at Crayden came rushing back to me, all those men and women I killed to defend my home. Perhaps I had done them a favor, saved them from a fate worst than death. The Nightmares did not kill, they consumed. Everyone lost to them would become part of them, it was a fate truly worse than death, to be absorbed into the endless void of Zio's monstrous form. My regret of battle had ceased, a new battle was beginning. One that I could not fight alone but may have to.

 

dDave

Well-Known Member
V.I.P.
Hmm. I kind of like it, obviously this is only one small passage of something that could be a lot larger should you invest a lot of time into it.

From what I read it seems like you have a storyline in mind (though I have no idea what it is). It also appears that it would probably be some sort of a prologue chapter.

It's most definitely a quality piece of writing though, obviously a lot of thought and effort went into it.
 

Smelnick

Creeping On You
V.I.P.
Interesting piece to say the least. Definitely a great intro to a story thats for sure. I'm intrigued. As usual, you're writing is very professional and draws me in. I wanna know what happens next!
 

Mirage

Secret Agent
Staff member
V.I.P.
Not bad. Feels like a nice intro sequence or prologue to an Elder Scrolls type of story. You should find a piece you like and stick with it. You have a lot of shorts and bits. Sit back and find the one you like best and expand it to something marketable. :nod:
 

Tucker

Lion Rampant
Very imaginative! For greater impact, try to stay away from the classic literary traps of run-on sentences (when you're not the one who wrote them, they're easy to get lost in) and the more corny-sounding phrases like "dark hours of darker magic" and "flames fluttered off of it like whisps [wisps] of smoke." When a story begins to overreach, it loses something. (Think SCTV's Count Floyd.) Less is more, truly.

It may also be good to take a moment and refamiliarize yourself with the possessive "its," for no apostrophe doth it possess.

You got fans already! Keep writing!
 
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