His Eyes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was a Language Arts project for school, but I had felt like this fairy tale was worth posting. Edward is different and the kingdom isn't a big fan of different, making the theme "differences aren't bad."

Submitted: December 08, 2013

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Submitted: December 08, 2013

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  In a distant time, in a distant and far away kingdom, a heavenly and divine castle stood among the enormous mountains. The majestic castle and walls were built out of the finest materials and stones one could find. The castle walls however kept magic locked away in the dungeon and catacombs. Many were sentenced for life simply because they were more than human. Myself included. The kingdom greatly fears magic because they do not know where its limits lie. The kingdom fears me just as much. Maybe even more.

 

  I am merely a child, yet I am so dangerous they say.  I am merely a boy with purple eyes. Who just so happens to be a werewolf as well.  They claim I am stronger, much stronger than the other werewolves. I haven’t even experienced my first change. I haven’t even come of age.  To  them, the entire kingdom, I am a hideous and monstrous beast.

 

 I remember the life I had before I was imprisoned. In that small village that was surrounded by a forest of a towering variety of trees and the endless blue sea. The market square was closer to the beach of incredibly soft sand and breezes full of salt. At the water’s edge, there were many glorious seashells. I would collect the seashells to use as money even though I wouldn’t be able to spend them. I wasn’t allowed in many shops. I was shunned by many, many people.

 

 One woman was kind enough to see past my numerous differences, and she would allow me to be in her shop.  I was sort of the guard of her shop. My very presence kept many thugs and bandits and thieves away.  Angela, that being the woman’s name, always admired the lovely shells I brought into the small store. Angela would do much shopping for me since I was shunned from everyone and everything but her. In return, I would do many chores for Angela. I didn’t live with her though.

 

 My home, which I long for, rests in the tangles of the branches of the tall trees in the cool forest. I miss the crisp smell of the pine trees, the sweet sap of the maple trees, the sturdy branches of the redwoods and oaks. I miss the beautiful sight of a lightly frosted willow tree and the gentle petals of the flowers on the magnolias.

 

 Now I am bound by my limbs to a brick wall of a filthy jail cell. The flooring coasted with mounds of dirt. The musty odor make my nose wrinkle. 

 

 I hate this. All of this torture.

 

I hate being feared because I am different. I hate inhaling this awful odor. It makes breathing quite difficult. I hate being in this sweaty room. I hate having the sharp ridges of the metal chains scarring my wrists and ankles.  I hate being half-starved.

 

I hate it.  I hate it all.

 

I haven’t committed a single crime, yet I deserve all of this.

 

The men and boys of  my village tried to kill me. They all tried to beat me to death. In the center of the market square.  It was painful. It was execrutiatingly painful. When the women got the soldiers, it didn’t help at all. In fact, the soldiers made it worse. Those soldiers whipped me. If it wasn’t for the perks of being a werewolf, I would have died. Hours after that beating began, a man finally decided that I had had enough.

 

That man is now my jailer.

 

Suddenly footsteps were coming to my cell. Two pairs. There were the loud clacks of my cell being unlocked. I looked up to find Sir George Smith, my jailer, and a man dressed in the royal robes. The man had chisled cheeks, graying blonde hair, and a small, pointed nose similar to mine. The king is visiting me.

 

“This is the boy. The boy who is far too powerful for his age and kind.” Sir George identified me. He spoke as if I was a deadly disease he begged he would not have. His dark brown eyes were filled with disgust and his copper-skinned face had an ugly expression.

 

“What is your name, child?” The king asked me. His tone was very kind and he had a soft smile, kind like his tone, upon his face.

 

“Edward.” I croaked. The months of restless nights and rare small meals had weakened me very much so. The king brushed my sweaty blonde bangs out of my eyes.

 

“That was my  son’s name. He had eyes like yours.” The king said.

 

“Your Majesty, I wouldn’t get too close to him. Did I mention how powerful he is?” Sir George warned the king.

 

“Unchain him. He seems to be fairly tamed.” The king ordered.

 

 I didn’t realize that was in Sir George’s vocabulary, but he reluctantly did exactly so. He began with my ankles and then continued with my wrists. Once my frail wrists were relieved of those horrid chains, my fragile and weak body fell right into the king’s arms.

 

“Are you sure he is as powerful as you claim, George?” The king chuckled. “He will no longer be a prisoner. I want him to be brought to a healer.  Also to a bed.” The king ordered.

 

I am not a prisoner. Oh the joy! I shall no longer dwell in this filth that is locked away from the beautiful moon-lit forests and the calm sun-kissed beaches.

“You can’t be serious! You want a beast roaming in your kingdom!” Sir George exclaimed. After that, exhaustion overtook me and my eyelids drooped closed.

 

I woke up in a rather warm and cozy bed.  A moist rag lies upon my forehead. Soft blankets cover most of my body. A hand gently stroked my right cheek. I turned and found a woman who looked oddly familiar. She wore lovely and delicate floral robes like the king. Her hair was as dark as pine cones. A soft smile was upon her white face and her dark brown eyes were filling with tears.

 

I do not understand. Why is she crying?

 

“Despite your father’s orders, Sir George plans to execute you. He says you are too powerful. Far too powerful.” Her voice was soothing and familiar.

 

Wait, she said my father. Who is my father? Wait, what? Does she mean to say my father is the king? My father is King William?

 

“Oh Edward, I am so sorry my dear. There is nothing I can do.” The woman sobbed as those tears streamed down her face. I do not know how to comfort the woman.

 

“Edward, we have much to discuss.” The king said in his deep voice as he slowly walked towards the bed, taking large steps with his big feet. He sat in a wooden chair next to the upset woman.

 

“We are your parents.” The woman began but she couldn’t continue. She cried more and more.

 

“You went missing when you were still nothing more than a baby. We weren’t able to find you. Until now.” My father explained.

 

“How do I escape?” That was all I could ask. I did not want this terrible fate.  My father smiled.

 

“I knew you would ask that.” Then he told me the daring plan he had in mind.

When he finally finished at last, Sir George walked in.

 

“It is time for his execution.” That man announced with a disgusted look on his face. Again.

 

“Why is he being executed?” My father bellowed.
 

“Would you rather he spent the rest of his life in prison?” Sir George challeneged.

 

“Yes. Yes, I would prefer that much more than execute my own son.”

“Then it shall be done.”

 

As Sir George walked towards me,  I sprang towards the window near the end of my bed. I did not want that fate either.  Too torturous.  I had not thought of what was behind the window though. And now because of my ignorance, I hang from the window sill by my greatly weakened arms. It took what little strength I had to get out of Sir George’s grasp and now my arms threaten to let go. But I can’t let go. If I do let go, then I would fall to my death. My fingers are slowly beginning to slip.

 

“Have a pleasant death, boy, and good riddance!” Sir George shouted as he lifted my hands from the sill. And he released my thin wrists.

 

To my surprise, I landed safely on my bare feet. Much shrieking and shouting and yelling came from the small window. It pained my very sensitive ears to hear it.  I ran from the castle. I ran as fast as my tired legs would allow. My legs were screaming in pain. But I could not stop. I would not stop. Not until I was safe from Sir George’s gold-bladed axe.

 

It was not long until I stood before the massive wall that protected the castle from intruders. I was trapped.

 

There were footsteps behind me. Crushing the soft, green grass.  I turned around to see a tall, lean man in a knight’s armor, bearing an unsheathed silver sword. When the copper-skinned man took another step closer to me, I fell to my knees. This man was prepared to fight me if he had to. Until he saw the color of my eyes. He dropped his enchanting sword and fled to the castle. I think.

 

A tall tree was near me. On this side of the wall. I crawled over to the unruly oak tree.  I managed to stand and slowly climb the tree to its lowest branch. Once I reached the branch, I carefully crawled towards the end of the twisted branch near the other side of the wall. I was halfway there when there was a sudden jabbing pain in my right side. I looked and found an arrow. That man returned with other knights.  They held many weapons. Including bows with arrows ready to fly. Ignoring the pain, I just kept going as those knights fired arrow after arrow. I barely reached the end of the branch before I forced myself to jump off the branch.  This time my landing was a bit more harsh since I lost my balance and fell down. I fell onto my back and now I can finally see the cloud-filled sky. It was not very sunny. Also I was surrounded by many tangled trees.

 

I am free.  And experiencing a great deal of pain. Wherever an arrow had struck me, there was a stinging sensation. I knew I would not be able to get up any time soon. It would hurt too much. Those knights were still behind the wall. Bickering at each other, complaining about letting me escape.

 

“What are we supposed to do now?” One of them bellowed.

“Well of course we go find the boy. I highly doubt he has gone very far. What with all those arrows. He will leave a trail of blood. It shall not be too difficult to find him.” Another answered.

“He is right, sir. The boy could not have gotten far. He grew very weak while he was imprisoned. I saw him myself. When I found the boy, he fell to his knees before me. “ A third voice agreed. It must have been the one man. “The boy is terribly weak. He would not have been able to have gone far. I bet my sword he right behind that wall and is listening to us this very moment.” The man continued.

 

That man speaks the truth. I am terribly weak. I did not go far beyond the wall. I am listening to what they say.

 

“Child, are you alright?” A boy who seems much older than myself whispered, startling me.  The boy had dark, dark brown hair like my mother’s and jade green eyes similar to my father’s. His skin was rather pale, like Mother’s except for his cheeks which were a rosy red much like Father’s.

 

“Did the king’s soldiers do this to you?” He softly whispered in my ear as he held me close to his chest. I had quickly fallen asleep to his very relaxing heartbeat.

 

When my eyes had finally opened again, I was in a small, dark blue tent. I didn’t realize how sore I was until I sat up. White bandages were wrapped around my torso and thigh, where the arrows pierced my skin.  That dark-haired boy was not in the tent, so I figured he was outside. And he was. Along with Sir George Smith.

 

“You liar!” Sir George spat at the boy, who lays in a puddle of blood at Sir George’s feet.

 

What happened?

 

“Take both of them and lock them away until I have decided when they shall be executed.” Sir George ordered his troops.

 

Something struck my on the head and I blacked out only to awaken in that filthy prison, once again chained to the stone wall. I shook my head at the thought.

 

“So this is our fate?” The boy said. We were locked in the same cell. Both chained. Both to be executed.

 

“Unfortunately yes. Are you scared?”

“Of what? Being executed for my differences? Or being imprisoned with another werewolf?”

“What do you mean? Another werewolf?”

He looked up from the disgusting floor to me.

“I am a werewolf. Like you. Except I am stronger. I have experienced my first Change.”

“Really? I have never met another werewolf before.” I sounded like a child as I spoke. My excitement was obvious in my voice. I bet my face was all lit up too.

 

“That is because we live deep in the forest. And we do our best to hide our identities.”

 

The boy, Thomas, explained and told stories until one of Sir George’s servants brought us a small meal. Which of course we devoured.

 

“They’re killing us because we are different. I do not understand. What have we done to deserve this?” I sighed.

 

“The world can be incredibly cruel, Edward.  You must accept that. Believe me. I did not wish for this either.” Thomas said.

 

Then Thomas suddenly started taking deep breaths.  The full moon is almost upon us. Thomas told me that werewolves usually did such as their bodies were filled with renewed energy and strength from the moon’s beams. Thomas’s eyelids were closed. Werewolves usually did that too.

 

The dim light of the torches made the damage of Thomas’s body quite obvious since his skin was coated with sweat.  Many dark bruises marked his face. There was dried blood on his face still. We weren’t allowed to bathe. They wouldn’t let us.  The brown pants and cream-colored shirt he wore were ripped in various areas. Underneath each tear, a new scab or old scar was visible.

 

I cannot even begin to fathom how brutual his encounter with Sir George had been. I haven’t even thanked Thomas for saving me from those archers. I need to thank him. And I must apologize for the trouble I have caused him. If it hadn’t been for me, that blasted Sir George would never have done that to him. Thomas would not be executed if it hadn’t been for me. He would not be in prison if it hadn’t been for me.

 

“This is not your fault, Edward. None of it is. –“

“Yes it is. If it wasn’t for me,  you would not be in this filthy prison. You would not be merrily on your way to being executed. You would not have fought Sir George.”

“It had been my decision to help you. So stop blaming yourself. You do not deserve that guilt. This is not your fault. Now stop thinking it is.”

 

“Your executions are tomorrow night.” Sir George announced behind the thick door, interrupting our conversation. His voice echoing.

 

We die tomorrow night.

 

His footsteps echoed as he left to go fulfill other duties.

 

“Edward, we’ll be fine.” Thomas tried to reassure me.

 

“No, we will not.  We die tomorrow night. There’s nothing we can do about it.” I protested. I knew my words were true. I did not need Thomas to lie to me. I did not need dishonesty right now.

 

“Tomorrow night is a full moon. We are werewolves. No one but fools would dare to attempt our lives when the moon is full.  Do you know how they do their executions?  It’s a duel. A duel between a weaponless prisoner and a fully trained soldier who is a master of weapons.” Thomas growled. “We will not be helpless. Sure we have lost battles before, but who hasn’t? This will be a victory for us. For we will have the strength of a hundred men. They believe that we don’t know how to control ourselves. They are wrong. I have been preparing myself for when a day like this comes. We are not helpless boys.” He attempted to encourage me.

 

“You may not be helpless, but I will! I am helpless! I have never been able to stand my ground! I have always been scared!” I exclaimed. It was true.

 

I would not fight back because I did not want to cause any injuries. I did not want to cause anybody to go through the pain of being abused. Like I always experience almost every day. Whether it be from violence or insults.

 

“I will find a way to protect you. For now you should rest. I cannot afford you to be exhausted when we escape our fates.” Thomas whispered. Innocence and determination gleamed in his large green eyes.

 

I did exactly as he wished and allowed myself to drift off to sleep. I had awakened just in time for the wretched executions.

 

I have never seen much of the gloomy, dark dungeon until today and it is not just my cell that is filthy. The hallways were somewhat cleaner than the cells. There were not nearly as many windows as there were torches, making the halls and rooms very dim. All of the prisoners seemed to be hiding. The only life I saw were rodents, the guards, and Thomas as we walked out of the nightmare of living quarters. Thomas and I both had jagged chains bounding our wrists together. When we were at last in the market square, Sir George was standing on a platform, dressed in full armor, bearing a polished sword and that strangely lovely axe.

 

I glanced at the gorgeous west sky. This would be the last time I see the sun set. The last time I shall witness that fanciful array of vibrant colors leave with the bright and blazing golden sun.

 

The soldiers behind me shoved me down onto my knees before Sir George after they removed the sharp metal around my scarred wrists, reminding me how muddy my torn brown pants were. Once I was back on my small, bare feet, Sir George lashed at me with his sword, ripping my sand-colored shirt. That being the beginning of the endless pain of the long duel until I lay before that terrifying man with my limbs consistently faltering beneath me every time I attempted to get up. I could not tell if that man hated injuring a boy or enjoyed watching me bleed. His face was expressionless. I could do no more than watch the precious, dark red fluid drip from the many, many slashes and tears of my pale skin.  My strength had been spent.

 

“Good riddance, Edward. Good riddance.” Sir George snarled as he raised his bloodied axe to chop off my head and end my suffering.

 

“WAIT!” I weakly shrieked. I did not want to die. Especially not at such a young age of fourteen.

 

“Wait,” I croaked. “Why do you have to kill me? Because I am different? Then you might as well execute every being in this land. Can you not see that we are all different? Not one is exactly the same as the next.” I protested in a stronger voice as sudden new energy surged through my veins.

 

“Why kill me if I am so powerful? Why would you not use that power to your advantage? Why would you destroy what you do not understand when you can learn about it?” I challenged that man.

 

I began taking deep breaths. Like Thomas is doing so.  It was difficult to breathe though. I must have broken some ribs during that duel. Everything went black in my vision after I heard strange snapping noises.

 

My eyelids fluttered open and once again I was in that warm, cozy bed with the feather-soft blankets. The brown wooden chairs next to the bed were empty. A glass of what looked like water rested on a small table that stood very close to the bed. The walls were a cream color. My father stood in the doorway.

 

“It is about time you had awakened.” He said in a gentle tone. He took slow, careful steps, probably hoping to not startle me.

 

“I’m alive.” I weakly cheered.

 

“You and your brother both are.” He said with a calm smile upon his pale pink lips.

 

“Brother?” I asked.

 

“Thomas. He is your brother and he is alive thanks to the short speech you gave. How are your wounds?”

I gave a small shrug and quickly winced. I guess that answers Father’s question. Father’s jade green eyes were wide with worry.

 

“What happened?”

“You Changed. You did not attack anyone or anything. You had fainted. So do not worry my son.” He said as he gently held me in a careful embrace.

 

“Edward, your coronation is in a few hours. Please be ready by then.” My mother called in a sweet, caring voice.

 

“You heard your mother. Now get to it.” My father playfully said.

 

The room in which the coronation will be held, was beautiful with refracted light, from the glass, everywhere. The large windows allowed in much bright sunshine. I doubt the sky could have been any more blue. The view of the marvelous vast ocean, the wonderous white beach, and the peaceful green forest could not have been more stunning.  Everyone in the kingdom had gathered in the courtyard.

 

I was finally going to receive the happily ever after that I have ben fighting to live for as long as I can remember. The world had finally accepted itself at last. I wonder how long this dream will last. But there could not be anything more lovely than the world coming of age.

 

The End.


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