Monday, August 6, 2012

A Beginning

       A while back I began a series of stories and I decided to post it here. It is basically short little
increments of a story each time it is posted, and I assure you once i figure out how to use this blog. I will
most certainly make it easier to navigate, until then please forgive my shoddy layout!



The Story of Kale: Part 1
Prologue: Pain


It was a dark road, dangerous by the looks of it. The blue of the moonlight painted jagged shadows of the trees lingering above. The wind gave this gloomy portrait motion, jagged shadows becoming sweeping monstrous claws in this dim night sky. Kale tightened his grip upon the hilt of his silver sword. It was a dangerous road indeed for it was a treacherous night when Kale hunted the betrayer of kings, destroyer of the Chanchilon Council, and most heinous of all, killer of gods. What man could ever hope to defeat such a monstrosity? He thought to himself.


 As Kale walked, the dancing shadows gave way to a dark figure. Approaching ever nearer the man’s features became ever clearer. This was not the face of the great betrayer, the one who abandoned the hope of the world all too near in the past. Don’t mistake my words when I say it was not his face, it was most certainly the right man, Kale had no doubts, but that face, it seemed far too drawn and tired to be the man of legend. It was a mask of strain and pain. A once proud jawline was set just a little more reserved. What used to be a figure that radiated confidence stood hunched under the weight of his deeds. Through it all however, one characteristic remained unchanged, his eyes. Cold, and unyielding the deep dark ocean blue of this man’s eyes were just as keen and piercing as they had been all those years back. Kale had thought he knew the man then, had even gone as far to call him a hero, a savior, and even a saint. He knew that to be untrue, the whole world should know that, or at least what was left of it… Kale only wished they had found out sooner. 

He had to suppress a small chuckle as Kale looked at the still approaching man. This was not a chuckle of confidence, or to stifle nervousness, it was the simple fact that Kale could lie to himself so thoroughly. He knew that every last cruel honorific he gave this man, and every other horrible thing he may say would be considered untrue in almost all eyes but his own. It was the thought that any person inside of all civilized Atemrei would account this man their savior, and Kale found that a fair reason to laugh. He had tried to agree, but could never find one great deed that would outweigh the abominations committed, and it was here that Kale confronted the man. He was standing only a pace away from him now, he could see every last piece that constructed the man before him. It was more than Kale could bear. A rage filled him, a pure primal hate, this man had taken everything from him. Kale drew his sword in his fit of anger and in one quick motion slashed lengthwise from the man’s head to waist. The image that was a man faded, two separate ribbons spiraling quickly out of existence, but that drawn face haunted him, for it was his face. Kale fell to his knees and tears began to stream down his face in the middle of the dark dirt road. He had never wanted to become this, he had just wanted to help. Kale had always assumed he was doing what he must, but now he understood, and he continued to weep not for the world that thought he saved them, Kale wept for the world he ruined trying to make something more, something better.


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