The Paladin's Journey

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is a post-apocalyptic fantasy series that I have been working on for the past few months. I designed that I should get something out for the new year and hopefully I can give and keep the promise that I made last year.

The Paladin’s Journey

Part 1


Paladin Ronec  walked down the long and lonely highway, his friend just out in front of him sniffing the ground they were about to tread. Suddenly the small white and tan terrier stopped and looked straight ahead and then turned its head towards him and then back down the road.

“Yes Arthur, I think you are right.”

Arthur ran behind him and leaped on top of his backpack as he lay it down. The grey mist slowly crept forward; he drew his blade. The sword was massive, longer then he was tall, the blade was wavy and flame like with small golden runes slithering down the spine stopping at the parrying hooks, the ricasso was wrapped in orange leather, the crossguard was steel with a bronze coating it, the handle wrapped in the same orange leather as the ricasso, and the pommel a hexagon od the same bronze coated steel with a golden star in the centre of it.

He walked forward into the mist.

The mist was light but shapes would form and disappear within it. He leaned down and picked up a couple of rocks. When the next shape emerged he threw one at it. The rock sawed thought the air and firmly connected with one of the figures.

“Ouch, fuck, who threw that?!”

He quickly dropped the rocks and stumbled to sheath his weapon. “Sorry about that my good sir.”

He quickly ran out of the mist to fetch Arthur and his gear “Hang on one moment I have some medicine that will help.”

Arthur cocked his head to the side.

“It seems we were both wrong little guy. Come on we got to make this right.”

Arthur simply responded with a bark and a waging tail.

“You knew didn’t you?” Ronec  accused the dog.

Arthur just kept of waging his tail.

They both walked back into the mist. The man hadn’t moved from the road but rather he had frozen in place. Ronec  looked around only to notice that all the figures moving had also frozen in place.

“Looks like I owe you an apology Arthur, you were right after all.”

Ronec  drew his sword again, pale blue motes of energy where sluggishly drawn out of the air into the runes. He pulled out a vial from his belt, took a sip, and then hastily rubbed the rest into his skin and hair.

The mist thickened, Ronec  closed his eyes, stood perfectly still, and waited. Off in the distance a child started crying only to just as suddenly stop. Ronec  softly creeped towards the origin of the cries. A women shrieked: Ronec  picked up pace and stopped the moment the shriek stopped. The potion heated up on his skin and in his throat but he kept his breathing steady and his footing still despite the increase in his heart rate, after all he trained years for this moment.

A man screamed off to his right and like the child was just as quickly silenced and again Ronec  moved towards the origin.

He could hear the banshee feeding and then is screamed.

His ears popped but he pressed forward: blade blindly arcing towards the spectre.

Crunch! It felt like his blade cut though charred bone, he missed.

Quickly he stepped to the side and raised his sword into ox stance point towards where the banshee should be. With his ears ringing he was forced to open his eyes on to a sight most fowl. He had severed the head off the man whose body still stood where it had died. The banshee looked at him with black beady eyes. Its skin transient with the blood of its victims visibly running through its face and neck, both of which were too narrow and long to be human the same was true for the creature’s limbs.

It stepped back into the mists but Ronec  followed not letting it slip from his sight he lunged forward with a thrust, the banshee narrowly dodged it and lashed out with a swipe of its claw. Ronec took the claw on his forearm so he could twist the blade in a shock strike across the banshee’s head sending it’s contents over the road.

And with that the mist quickly dissipated. The people unfroze and stated panicking over the events that had just transpired, most simply ran to their homes or towards their loved ones, some fell to the ground, others looked over to him and the banshee.

“What is going on? You did this!” an old man yelled at him from across the street, a couple of people tuned to look at him but most just carried on.

The man ran up to Ronec and started to pummel his fists against his chest. “Why did you do this to us! Why did you come here and bring that thing!”

Ronec stood there and took it. The man would vent all his anger and then Ronec would continue his duties and offer spiritual guidance to this town in their time of need.

The villagers started to crowd around him and the old man. The whispered and mumbled to each other.

Pain blasted across his face and Ronec stumbled backwards; his vision blurred. A bloody rock lay on the ground in front of him. He quickly backed up and looked around. More rocks, alongside sticks and food came flying at him. Most bounced harmlessly off his armour but Ronec didn’t wait to see what the villagers would do next and ran off down the road. Arthur followed barking as he did so.

Ronec would have to leave his bags behind it seemed.

Only once his lungs started burning and his carves knotted up did he stop. He collapsed against a large willow tree and feel asleep.

Time to see what misfortune tomorrow would bring.

Submitted: January 01, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Lyam Trainor. All rights reserved.

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