The Forsaken Race; Darker Times

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 17 (v.1) - The Runt

Submitted: July 10, 2018

Reads: 171

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Submitted: July 10, 2018






Time seemed to pass slowly, and others started to take on patrols, leaving their beta and leader to recollect. Without a mission to complete, Timbur was doing the only thing he could think of; the only thing he did besides work.

  That is, instead of doing work, he was training for it.


The thin wooden target shattered as Timbur's throwing-knife went through it, hitting the wood post behind. The other two he had fired missed the target, though, hitting the ground and bouncing away. Perhaps he would've made three hits, had he not been blindfolded, and one arm tucked behind him.

This was something he had been working on for a long while. Training while handicapped was something important to have, according to his master. Timbur took the advice, of course, so practiced like this whenever he could fit in the time.

Right now, Timbur was in a room for private training. Not the Combat Room, but an area similar in size, only it was rounded. The ground was rough stone, the gritty surface irritating to his three-toed feet, while the edges of the floor had random ferns and flower-less plants. Ivy and moss covered the walls. The only exit was an ascending staircase, leading back to Timbur's chambers. Opposite to the exit, there was a small five-foot waterfall, the water coming from a random hole in the wall and leading into a small spring.


Another target shattered as Timbur hit it with two-of-three knives.

The thoughts of Chiro's battle and taunting ran through his mind, making him mutter, "Worthless."


A different target, a hanging one, was hit with two-of-three knives.


As more memories, different from the recent battles, started to run through his head, Timbur quickly turned and hit a target with all three knives. He growled to himself, becoming more irate for unknown reasons.


Unsheathing three more knives, Timbur threw them at the roof above. He hit a smaller target, though with only one knife.

"Fucking helpless..."

Timbur clenched his restrained fist, his irritation continuing to seethe. He unsheathed two knives, throwing them at a target hidden behind ivy. One hit the bullseye, while the other hit somewhere else on the target. He growled to himself again.


As Timbur realized he was out of knives, he removed his blindfold. He continued to stare into nothingness, as if still blinded. Deep-seated hate reflected in his green eyes. His claws began to unsheathe, sinking into his clenched fist. They drew blood, causing a bit of a sting, but he didn't seem to care.


Unexpectedly, Timbur unsheathed his machete. His rage manifested in this violent action.

"Vile, useless coward!"

He threw the machete at not a target, but the stream of clear water coming from the wall. The blade sank deep into the wall, almost to the hilt. He had used clear unrestrained force. After all, he did hit his target. The blade was in the reflection of himself, right where it would've hit his spine.

The thought made Timbur sneer to himself, "Damn me, stop the drama."

Timbur stopped there. He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his dark green hair. He refused to look back at his most recent target. The others were completely obliterated; the wood ones were shattered, and the ones painted onto stone were cracked. There were cracks like that everywhere, though, as were there several other gouges in the stone behind the waterfall.

"Still on about this?"

Alerted by the voice, Timbur turned to face the doorway, where he found none other than Leiytning. The leader had a disapproving expression when he saw where the machete was.

Timbur sighed irately. "I don't want to talk about it. And I thought you were on a mission."

"I can't find the threat, at the moment," Leiytning answered. "However, there was an unexpected forest wyvern down there, and I wanted you to handle that while I continue searching."

"Right..." Timbur cleared his lingering thoughts and focused on the mission. "I'll take care of that momentarily."

Leiytning glanced at the machete again. "Are you sure you're in a condition to do so?"

"Yes, I just recently heard a few things that made me irritated," Timbur dismissively explained. "Right or not, I don't like being called a runt, especially from some cocky scum like Chiro."

Confused, Leiytning responded, "And 'runt' automatically translates to 'vile, worthless coward'?" 

Timbur facepalmed as he groaned. "Yes, now please end this. You know I hate talking about it."

"Don't be dramatic," said Leiytning, as blankly as ever. "You've no reason to hate it, and yet you turn into this every time the 'smallest' remarks appear, quite literally. I'm starting to fear I might find you slitting your wrists, next."

"Don't tempt me," Timbur muttered, more sarcastically than seriously.

Although, even if Timbur wanted to argue more, he couldn't find the words. Evidently, his own words were the wrong ones, every time. No one agreed, but then he never talked about it with anyone but Leiytning. He refused to let this weakness of him show; refused to act like what he saw as a depressed, pithy, naive novice-warrior. Even he knew he was above that much. Still, however, this hate was no trifle. It ran deep and made him want to punish himself for it. Sometimes, he would secretly wish that he was the reflection in the water.

Absent-mindedly, he spoke aloud, "...Something tells me that Chiro said the truth. I'm a pitiful excuse for a demon beta. He called me out on it, and as much as I hate to agree, he had a point worth more than ignoring."

That made Leiytning mutter, "I find that hard to believe."

"Sad but true," Timbur sighed. "During that battle, in the Scorched Ruins, he noticed something I was trying to keep hidden, but I guess I failed at it. At the time of that ambush, I didn't know how bad Thundur's wound was. I didn't know if she would survive, especially long enough for us to reach the next blood moon." He crossed his arms, reflecting discomfort. "I was scared we'd lose her, and the domino effect would be put in motion. Once she fell, so would you, and..."

Leiytning seemed to understand better, now. "You were afraid that you'd have to take the position of leader?"

"Even when it came that close, I couldn't stomach the thought," Timbur grumbled. "Really, this is one of the few mistakes you've made yet, probably the worst. Why the hell would you choose me for this position?"

"I'm beginning to think you ask me this question every other day," Leiytning remarked.

"It doesn't help that you never give me a direct answer," said Timbur. "I know you're one for the 'all revealed in due time' logic, but it's very irritating to the rest of us."

"It's a true statement," Leiytning blankly remarked. He walked past Timbur, toward the small spring. Wanting an answer (as usual), Timbur continued to press on for an answer.

"Leiyt, I was a lazy jackass, back then. And everyone's right; I'm not significant in strength, nor strategy at the time." He glared down at his short, scrawny self. "Morely, as much as I hate it, I am a runt. Why didn't you choose Scorch, or maybe Seyber?"

Leiytning sneered, "That much is obvious. Scorch lacks in strategy and overall leadership skills, Seyber lacks in strength and is terrible in a panic. Besides, it's not like you will find the one perfect leader. It's just a matter of analyzing strengths and weaknesses, and seeing which one comes closest to a race's version of 'proper leader'."

Confused, Timbur grunted as his brows furrowed. "I'm still lost. I didn't even have my current skills when you chose me. I had countless physical and mental disadvantages, and then there's-" Quickly, he bit his tongue before speaking any more. That made him wince, too, as he forgot he had fangs.

Still, Leiytning prompted him to continue. Despite his hesitancy, Timbur obliged.

"Proof..." He sighed. "I couldn't have been your choice after what happened in the Dragon Age; it was my fault. I was what stood between you and that, but still, I just...I ran. I ran like a pitiful coward. Isn't that a strong enough hint for you?"

"You ran because you were ordered to," Leiytning replied. Timbur watched as he pulled the machete from the wall, droplets of water flying about as it ran through the waterfall. Still, Timbur kept his eyes cast down as he drew near, the blade in hand as he continued to speak patiently.

"We all played a role in creating that dark age, and we can't point fingers at anyone. The rest of us acted sometimes immoral, confused or frightened by the shock of what just happened, and the fact that it wasn't ending yet. Out of everything I myself did in that time-"

"Oh, I can point fingers," Timbur interfered. "Or do you not blame Vekull and Sybil, either?"

"Don't interrupt me," Leiytning responded. "Out of everything I did in that time, telling you to run was one of the few things I did and have no regret about. I never have." He pointed the blade at Timbur. "You, on the other hand, were not acting out of cowardice. To put it in a way you'll appreciate, you were following orders from your superior, simple as that. You do that on a regular basis, yes?"

"Not then," Timbur muttered.

"Perhaps not, but in times of hardship, people will turn to the higher-status for help. Even someone as unruly as yourself would've submitted under that kind of pressure. Besides, you weren't even unruly; it just took our entire race's domination to make you stop being lazy."

"That-" Timbur stopped himself there. "Actually, that sounds right. Still, I don't even know where you're going with this. If I'm lazy and crack under pressure, why select me as beta?"

"Because of what I saw afterward," Leiytning replied. "Let's leave it at that for now."

"Let me guess," Timbur replied, "'All will be answered in due time'?"

"Exactly," said Leiytning. "When you do take the position, and get it through your skull that it will happen someday, you'll understand. In the meantime, please try not to ask this again."

Timbur gained a slight smirk. "Very well, master."

Leiytning's ear twitched, his one eye narrowed to a glare. Just as Timbur didn't like his own 'beta' title, Leiytning didn't like being called that. 'I have a name for a reason,' he would say, but Timbur used it as a taunt to get some payback. Leiytning said nothing, though, and only extended the machete's hilt to Timbur.

"Be careful with what you hit with this, from now on," Leiytning warned. "Some things shouldn't be made into targets."

Timbur nodded, taking his weapon back as Leiytning proceeded out of the room. Once he had gone, Timbur stared back at the water, where he struck only seconds ago. He could just as easily hit the right place, again.

The words still ran through his mind. 'I was what stood between you and that, but still...'

His gaze turned into a hateful glare. "This doesn't change anything between us."

© Copyright 2019 Raven Akuma. All rights reserved.


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