Not Sure Yet.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the first draft of my high fantasy short story that I am writing for school.

Submitted: November 19, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 19, 2015



I laid down upon the cot in my barracks just as the lights were turned off by my senior drill instructor. Pulling the covers up to the level of my chin I made myself comfortable and fell fast asleep. It may have been the deepest sleep I have ever had, and I felt so at peace; but I know not much of that part, as it has been a long time.

They started out soft and massage-like at first, but as time passed the vibrations grew more intense, as if someone were rapidly tapping right in the middle of my forehead with their pointer, and middle finger. This went on for what seemed like days, but of course I knew it wasn’t actually days as that would be absurd and totally abstract. However, no matter what I did I just could not wake up. It was like I was trapped in a dream state, except completely aware.

Suddenly, I had the sensation of my eyes opening, but instead of them being in their normal two spots I felt one eye right in the middle of my forehead.

I was still in complete darkness, but a voice came to me. It was a deep demonic voice, but it was somehow calming, and I felt the need to pay close attention to what it said to me, “Please. Oh please, warrior come to us. Free us of our betrayal to our nation, help us defeat those who tricked us. It will not be forgotten; not even in a thousand years when the dust from our bones have gone away with the wind.” At that moment I knew that I had a choice: escape from this twist of reality, or help the voice.

The man’s voice was full of sorrow, guilt, and regret. I couldn’t let him suffer, so I agreed to help. I didn’t need to physically agree though, it just happened. I can’t explain to you how; it was just something that was.

As I awoke from my dream state I came to find that I was no longer in my cot, nor was I in MCRD San Diego anymore. I layed on my back in a tall patch of prairie grass. Oddly enough, there were two suns in the sky: one blue, and one red. They were both just slightly dimmer than our own sun, but the power of the two combined felt amazing on my face, like the hand of God himself was reaching down to wish me luck for the road ahead.

I was so content lying there that it was a huge struggle to stand, but I was not in a state of regret when I did so. I stood at the very top of a grassy hilltop and all around me were green, rolling hills. I cannot even begin to describe the beauty of this land to you. It was like nothing found on our Earth.

Looking deeper into the distance I spotted buildings of some sort. Figuring that that was a good starting point, I headed off.

I traveled without rest until the two suns were engulfed by the horizon. At this point I was deep inside of a valley, and thought this to be a suitable place to rest.

I dreamt again of the voices, but this time there was a being to accompany them. He stood in the darkness, hands bound together by a length of thick rope. It was not like any kind of being I had ever seen before. It was obviously of a male gender. He stood about four feet tall, but was very thick and muscular. His skin was a dark grey, making it hard to see him through the darkness. He had long dark hair, and light green eyes that peered through the darkness.

“Aaron.” He paused after saying my name to see my reaction. I nodded, and he continued, “I ask for your help. My people are oppressed. They are being held captive by another race of beings called the Payanese. Their intent on us is genocide. Please, Aaron, you’re our last hope for survival.”

I was speechless for a moment. Why would this man want my help out of everyone else on Earth, or any other world for that matter? “Why me? I am one of seven billion, so why me?”

“Your ancestor, seven generations ago helped us when we first came to this land. We made a pact, and she took an oath and promised that her, or any one of her ancestors would help us in a time of need.”

Something told me that this man was trustworthy, that he indeed needed help, and if it was my help that he wanted I would give it to him. “Okay, just tell me how to help you.”

“Persistence, that’s how.” The being replied.

At that moment I woke up, the two suns beamed down upon my face once more. I got up and started on my path again.

Halfway into the day I came to a shallow stream in the middle of a patch of woods. I knelt down next to the stream to get a good shot of water in my mouth, but something caught my attention. About twenty yards ahead was a rocky cliff about fifty feet high, and right in the middle of it was an opening large enough to for a man to walk into.

The explorer instinct inside of me kicked in and I ventured into the cave. The opening led into one large cavern that was about the size of an old style hay shed. Directly in the middle of the cavern was a podium with what looked like words etched into it, and just a couple of feet away from the podium was a suit of armor, and a massive claymore whose point was stuck into the sand of the cavern floor.

I walked over to the podium and read aloud, “To my ancestors, for whoever’s blood must be spilled after my time.” I assumed that I must have been the ancestor of whoever wrote the note, so I walked over to the sword and armor for further investigation.

All four pieces of armor were made of the same material, a type of dull green metal which I found out was mysteriously light upon picking it up. On the breastplate was a saying. I knew that it wasn’t in english, but somehow I still knew exactly what it said,

“Cattle die,

Kinsmen die,

I will soon die myself.

The only thing that does not die,

Is the fame of a dead man’s deeds.”

I remembered hearing that somewhere, from someone, but I just couldn’t remember from  where exactly. I knew that the armor and sword were destined to me though, so I methodically strapped on each piece of armor and pulled the massive claymore up from its resting place.

It was time to carry on my way. I walked out of the cave to discover three people waiting for me outside. One was about the height of the man in my dreams, but his face had a distinct scar that started from his forehead all the way down to where it disappeared under the fabric of his clothing. He wore a dark red cloak with the hood up.

The second one was a caucasian woman with red hair and sparkling blue eyes. There was an eerie presence about her that filled me with respect. She too wore a red cloak, but she also bore a sword at her hip, one that I did not doubt she could use skillfully.

The final person was a beastial type being. It had a flat face covered with red fur, and blue striped down the left side of its face. Its eyes resembled that of a cat; deep gold and powerful. It also had a thick mane of hair around the outside of its face, and ears that pointed up to the suns.

The power I felt flowing out from these beings was immense, more so than anyone can comprehend. I knew they were of a higher class of people, one that was not of that petty realm of imperfection. I stood there quietly and waited for them to speak. It felt like a lifetime before one of them did.

“My name is Râ. I am the god of good fortune,” said the short one in the cloak.

“I am Dleris, goddess of fate,” the woman said.

“I am Régœr, god of the fight,” said the beast like man.

Dleris stepped forward. “The twines of fate smile strongly about you Aaron. They say that you can restore order once again. I believe the same. You are a very powerful person, and that’s why you made it here to Alesaria. Do what the Dothrokror told you, save his people. Then, when time comes for you to pass on you might be able to join us.” She smiled after she said this. It filled me with happiness. Then she said, “Remember, persistence is key.” I nodded my head, then the three of them turned away. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and then they were gone.

I knew then that I had to help the Dothrokror people. I sheathed the claymore into the leather strap on my back and took off at the pace of an angered lion.


Three days passed before I took a break. Even then, I was not tired. It was an involuntary break, but one that I was forced to take. The day before I had found a weathered cobblestone road and decided to follow it, as roads generally lead to civilization. What stood before me at that moment was an ugly, brute of a creature. It was a humanoid that stood about fifteen feet tall, it wore nothing but a piece of crude cloth around its waste, and it had the belly of an alcoholic. Even though it was an ugly kind of creature, it did look like a force to be reckoned with, and it was obviously hostile as the barred teeth it was revealing to me showed.

It had stared at me, waiting for me to come closer, and when I was about twenty feet from it, it charged. I felt the ground underneath me shudder under the weight of the creature, and for a moment I thought the world was going to collapse.

I stood at the ready with my claymore as it drew near. When it was nearly upon me I side stepped, letting the brute pass me, and slashed it in its thick calf muscles. The attack put a massive gash into the creature, but it was far from helpless.

The brute grunted, and turned back around to face me. It snorted once through its wide nostrils, then charged again.

This time I wasn’t quick enough as it caught me off guard by scooping me up in its massive hands. It squeezed, hard. I felt my vision closing in, but acting quick I flipped my claymore around and stabbed down on the hands that held me. It let me go, and knelt down to cradle its pain. I took a hold of the opportunity and climbed up the back of the creature. I stabbed into its head all the way down to the hilt of my claymore. The brute fell like a rock into water and drowned into his never ending rest.

When the brute died I felt a change in the atmosphere, like someone had made a bad move in a strategy game. I had never experienced that sense until then, but there was definitely somebody watching me.

I felt tired after the battle and just wanted to lie down for a while, but then I remembered what the Gods had told me, “Persistence is key,” so I forced myself to continue on the path.

As I walked I kept noticing more and more raven like birds following me. They were cackling and laughing at me. They were creeping into my head, they told me I would fail. They told me that I could never accomplish a feat as great as this. Insult after insult. Criticism after criticism.

Soon there were hundreds of these birds jumping from tree to tree along the path; following. Finally, I screamed out, “I will bow down to nothing!” and carried down the cobblestone road at a run all the way to the city.

It took me seven more days to reach the city, but I would not give up on this. When I got there I examined the setting. There was one immense wall that encircled the entire border of the city, and there looked to be only one gate in. I would have to take the direct approach.

I marched up to about one hundred yards away from the gate and stood. A name crawled into my mind at that moment, and I knew what it meant.

“HJORUND!” I took a few breaths more, “HJORUND!” and again, “HJORUND!”

And once more, “HJORUND!” but this time my voice was one of several hundred. I looked behind me astonished and saw hundreds upon hundreds of Dothrokror warriors, all dressed for battle. At the front of the group were the three gods and goddess: Râ, Dleris, and Régœr. They smiled and Régœe yelled up to me, “Today will be a good day for the wolves!”

I smiled to myself and then once more yelled, “HJORUND!” before the enemy gates were thrown open. Thousands of soldiers seemed to pour out of the city all at once and stack up into a formation. The ground shook, horns blew, and as all of this went on I felt at peace. I felt like I could not be touched by anything.

Then, for just a few moments, there was silence. It was broken up by one single voice as the enemy army began to march forward with the beat of a rhythmic drum.

We were outnumbered ten to one, but I could tell that the moral was still high within the army.

I began to count the seconds: 1...2...3...4, all the way until one hundred when the enemy army was nearly above us. Régœr led out an impressive war cry and we charged forward with the ferocity of a thousand bears.

Metal clashed against metal. People screamed, and people fell, but our forces were led by anger and surpassed the enemy’s overall strength with ease. It was over within an hour. At the end of it I stood breathing hard with my hands on my knees. Bruises covered my entire body, and I had a large gash on my left thigh, but compared to most I was unscathed.  

When I looked up what was left of the Dothrokror army was standing, staring at the gate with unembarrassed smiles stuck onto their faces. I looked over at the gate and saw that several thousand Dothrokror citizens were coming out of the city. One made his way over to me and I saw that he held a smile on his face. It was the man from my dreams.

“Thank you. Your deeds will never be forgotten, for everyone who dwells in this land called Dorsamer is in debt to your heroism.” He patted my shoulder and walked past.

Dleris came up to me next. She was beyond beautiful, even after the battle. “You have certainly earned your spot amongst us, Aaron. You persisted and fought against all odds. When your time comes to pass, there will be a seat waiting for you next to me.” She smiled, and said something in another language that I could not comprehend. Then her and the other two gods were gone.

That night I ate in the Great Hall of the city I had helped to save, and the kings, and servants alike showed their gratitude to me. When it came time to sleep I knew that this great thing would come to an end, but I was not to worry.

I would return again someday to that amazing land. Until that time came however, I would make the most out of my life on this Earth, for it too has beauties of its own; you just have to look a bit harder. The words on my breastplate echoed throughout my life, and I never would forget them.

“Deyr fé,

Deyja fraendr,

Deyr sjalfr it sama.

En ordstirr,

Deyr aldregi,

Hveim er sér gôdan getr.”

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