- Spoiler:
Okay so I was given the starting sentence, "He had... eyes out" and told to write a story with that line somewhere incorporated within it.
This is what I came up with
I hope everyone enjoys
Without further ado
The Priest’s Folly
{
He had always believed that grownups shouldn’t cry, they should be strong; but all he wanted to do at that moment was cry his eyes out.}
The savages had reached Camelot and were taking the life of every living soul in sight. The knights of the land were fighting hard but the savages were strong and much in number.
The high priest Fabul watched the slaughter from above his tower. Stepping back from his window of pain and sorrow, Fabul brought his right hand to cover his eyes and face, unable to watch any more. As he turned around, the view from in-between his spread about fingers made him jump back; for he saw a dark cloth flutter on the ground. Trailing his gaze upwards, the Priest saw a figure draped in black robes, standing as close to him than a few feet.
“Who are you and for what purpose have you come here!?” demanded the shocked priest.
The hooded figure replied, “Who I am is of no importance to you, but for what purpose I am sent here is to present you with this book.” Saying so, he took out a book from within his robes and held it out in front for the priest to take.
The priest took the book from the messenger and asked him for what use would be the book to him. To which the enigmatic figure replied, “This book holds the secrets for your people’s victory” he then raised his hand and pointed towards the window behind.
The priest turned about to peer out the window, the savages were still slaughtering the soldiers and innocent alike.
The dark figure continued, “A word of caution, the help you seek from this book should not be taken lightly, do not overlook the fine print.”
Fabul turned around because the room had become silent as it was before the dark messenger had appeared before him. Upon turning, he was surprised to acknowledge the fact that he was yet alone in the topmost chamber of the tower.
After a stunned silence he looked down at the book. It looked heavy with its thick build, but au contraire quite light, to send enigmatic signals into the mind of a first time wielder. The black leather case hosted a prominent feature of its own, an engraved encircled star, glistening along as the sun reflected over its metallic mold, firmly clasped at the center of the book's cover.
Still disoriented by what had just transpired; the priest started to flip through the thick but light parchment like pages. Without knowingly, as if trapped in a stupor, he stopped on a random page and started to read. Suddenly Fabul became alert upon catching the word "war".
The war-cries of the savages mixed with the screams of the civilians were blaring through the open window. Fabul read the page and understood that it was a spell. Apparently, one had to perform a ritual in which they invoked an invisible spirit and according to the written script in the book:
- Quote :
- My name is ZAHRIM.
I am the warrior spirit serving under the powerful war lord MEGANTA.
I have taken out entire armies.
Summon me by the word of power “MASHSHAORANNU”.
The text continued stating that after summoning the spirit, a breeze should be felt around the summoner, signaling the presence of the warrior spirit and once the spirit is present the priest or summoner should direct the spirit to a suitable vessel, a living organism is preferred. It also stated a word of caution, “
Do not transfer the spirit into a power hungry vessel, a vessel whom so wishes to kill in blind rage."
In the priests mind all that ran around was the thought of victory. "With the help of this spirit, Camelot would be saved." He got everything ready, the candles and the diagram of the seal which was etched under the ritual spell. All that was now required of him was the vessel.
A quick rasp of the brass knuckles at the mahogany door snapped him out of his thoughts. The door opened, entering inside was a male soldier in his twenties. He had long, smooth, straight brown hair which parted off his neck, just above his shoulders as he entered the room. An unzipped leather jacket showed an unsullied chain mail with intact white cloth shirt underneath. For a soldier, it appeared as if his attire had not seen battle for a long wile. His leggings, woven out of a lizards hide, dyed in royal blue, patterned in scales, were fastened by a belt with a big buckle in shape of a lizards skull, whose visage was true to its origin as it infact was taken from a small lizard's skeleton.
“Mavis!” exclaimed the Priest. “Just the person I am looking for” said Fabul, walking towards him and gripping tightly onto his black leather jacket lead him from the door by tugging at his arms towards the center of the room. Mavis’s steel long sword rattled as it repeatedly brushed off the iron rings dangling from the sides of his leather leggings as if thy were pierced onto his tight skin like clothes.
“Father, is everything alright?” asked Mavis. “You look quite exuberant.”
“Here now son, you just stand here and be patient, everything will be explained” Fabul assured him.
The high priest Fabul started the ritual by lighting the candles. Placing the readied cut out seal which he fashioned after the image displayed in the invocation book, in-between the two burning candles, the priest looked at the seal intently while concentrating on his goal, which was to summon ZAHRIM and transfer the spirit into Mavis.
When he believed he had reached a strong enough point of mental concentration, Fabul rolled back his eyes and recited the summoning spell which was given in the book. the high priest inserted the spirit’s name where the script instructed to do so and called upon it by its power word.
At the third instance of repetition, the helpless priest felt as if someone had just stroked an icy hand along his spine. He felt the shivers which were followed by a chill breeze seeping in through the windows and every nook and cranny of the room.
A strong wind had suddenly began blowing all around the priest; his long white robes with embroidered gold, thorned roses, were fluttering as the uncanny wind which had appeared inside the shut chamber swished around him. Upon seeing such display, the virgin summoner's son, Mavis, began to fret and started to back off as on reflex.
The high priest turned around and looked towards his son.
“Mavis, my child, welcome the spirit of the warrior ZAHRIM”.
Upon saying so the priest pointed towards Mavis and instantly the gust of chilled air rushed towards the being pointed at and wrapped itself around his body, visible due to it instantly taking an emerald colored wisp state.
Fabul dropped down on his knees, the ritual apparently exhausting him, draining him out of his energy. Lifting his head, he attempted to gaze upon his son, or where his son should have been previously standing. In place of his son there now stood a demon, an entity standing 6 or 7 feet tall, Charcoal Black, as burning coal, was his scaled skin; his heavily muscled upper and lower body were adorned with protruding horns, that which were also noticeable all over in various sizes from his head, arms, hooves and even a trail of small spikes running along its tail that was the length of his legs. Energy pulsed through out his body from sharp edged spiral shaped engraved markings on his bare arms, chest, lower spine and waist like the branching streaks of thunder lighting. With every exhaled breath, steam escaped from within its infernal soul.
The creature raised its head, it's eyes were dark and deep as the Abyss, but eery so often, the iris would pulse. A tiny red orb, which would branch out multiple lightning streaks traveling out of the eyes, branching throughout his face and temple in altering jagged formations.
The deep maroon rough lips of the Demon parted and a masculine thunderous voice filled the room.
“FOOL!!” it bellowed, “look at what you have done. This vessel had been storing a vast amount of rage and hatred. Now you shall bear the consequences”.
Upon saying that it leaped out of the tower's window and landed in midst of battle with all the shattered glass from the locked tower window falling around it. Soldiers of both party were blown outwards in a circle due to the shock-wave released on impact ZAHRIM made upon it's leap. Camelot’s army drew back in terror but the savages who were in a frenzy were not able to register this new addition in their path and so as soon as they got back up onto their feet, they continued to charge at their enemies and ZAHRIM.
The creature raised it's tail, bringing it towards it's front and from it's tip a foreboding spiked weapon made of solid bone emerged out. The guard of the sword was spiked towards the hilt so as to come out from the tail's tip with ease. The start of the hilt was molded in a lizards skull. ZAHRIM lifted the sword and energy passed throughout it's body and branched into the sword like blood pulsing through the veins of a connected living body.
Giving out a loud battle cry, ZAHRIM struck down with a mighty blow at the incoming savage and with swipe after swipe it hacked and slashed at the barely armored wild men. The Knights and men of Camelot taking ZAHRIM’s lead, advanced into the battle.
Soon the savages were slaughtered with the help of the demon. The people of Camelot cheered, they were all filled with joy and relief. The high priest Fabul looked down at his followers and sighed with relief as it dawned on him that victory had finally presented itself to them.
The demon yanked out its sword from the body of the last savage, blood trickling down all the way from the ivory tip, further passing down the hilt and over the demon's massive ebony hands.
“Who is he?” asked one civilian.
“What is he?” questioned another.
They looked at it in awe and horror.
“Is it on our side?” asked a woman.
The creature twisted around and faced them; “FOOLS, I AM DEATH AND I BRING ONLY DESTRUCTION!!” bellowed the demon. The sound-wave traveling over all those in the vicinity, making most to buckle down onto the floor due to the massive weight his speech carried.
With that said, ZAHRIM charged towards the remaining men and women of Camelot and before any one had the time to fully react or recover, the slaughter started yet again.
The high priest watched in horror from above as the genocide took place by the very entity he had summoned to help them in bringing victory to his land. He had lost his son due to his folly and now, one by one he was loosing his followers.
ZAHRIM spared no life, humans and animals, all that was once living was now nothing but piles of carcasses. The stench, carried over by the wind from the freshly formed valley of blood and guts, fueled the monster's blind rage and hunger for death. As suddenly as it started; the massacre seized. The fiend satisfied, his lust now full filled; returned to the point of his origin in this astral plane.
The priest’s chamber filled with static that prickled his hair allover. A blinding flash of red, the dark toned fiend teleported inside the tower room.
“Your enemies have all been vanquished, but for the price you had to pay for your own folly of attaching me to a vessel brewing with bottled up rage; you had your subjects sent to the abyss”, said the demonic entity.
With that the room was filled with the emerald ethereal breeze with the same icy feel and a gust of wind encircled around the entity. From within the small tornado which pulsed off green energy, Fabul could see the changes reverting back on his son. The painful crunching sounds of his bones restructuring and the demonic energy and mass dissipating, Fabul could not bear to wait anymore for reuniting with his son, the only other living being left in this cursed land.
With the lifting of the mist, Mavis was now standing where ZAHRIM once stood.
“Mavis, son, you are alright”. Fabul went to hug him but Mavis backed off.
"A man who would knowingly torture his son in such painful ways..."
"Mavis, please, I had no choice" pleaded Fabul and moving another step towards his son
"The things you made me do.."
"Son, I.." Fabul's voice cracked.
“You are no father of mine!!”. Shouted Mavis and lifting his sword he slashed at his neck, chopping his head clean off his body.
"Mavis!!" screamed his father
Like a fountain of red wine, blood sprayed out all over from the open wound from the Priest's son's body, drenching Fabul's once white robe and dyeing the gold roses scarlet. Lingering only for a few seconds more, Mavis's body dropped down on it's knees, falling chest forward onto the cobblestone.
The high priest Fabul dropped down on his knees as well and picked up his only son's head. “No!! Not you too. Why did it have to be you” croaked Fabul.
Mavis's head which had rolled over within arm's reach of the priest Fabul, his eyes had stayed open. The lifeless body of Mavis stared deep into Fabul's eyes. Those eyes were filled with disgust and pure hatred towards the man he onced called father. Struggling to lift it, the doomed priest brought his son's head to his chest and tightly hugged it, Not letting it go, even as the tears kept pouring out of his eyes. Even as he cried he remembered how
he had always believed that grownups shouldn’t cry, they should be strong - but all he wanted to do at that moment was cry his eyes out.
~~~FIN~~~
- Spoiler:
Initial - Alternate Ending {PG13}
The priest’s chamber filled with static as the fiend teleported in.
“Your enemies have been vanquished, but for the price you had to pay for your own folly of attaching me to a vessel bursting with rage, you had your subjects sent to the abyss”, said the demonic entity.
With that the room filled again with the same icy breeze and Fabul could see the changes reverting back on his son.
Mavis was now standing where ZAHRIM once stood.
“Mavis, son, you are alright”.
Fabul went to hug him but Mavis instantly backed off.
“You are no father of mine” said Mavis as he stepped back.
Mavis raised his sword and stabbed himself in his heart. As Mavis fell on the floor, lifeless, his eyes stayed open. The lifeless body stared deep into Fabul's eyes. Those eyes were filled with disgust and pure hatred towards its owners father.
The high priest Fabul dropped down on his knees,
“No!! Not you too. Why did it have to be you”
and the tears just kept pouring out of his eyes.
Even as he cried he remembered how he had always believed that grownups shouldn’t cry, they should be strong- but all he wanted to do at that moment was cry his eyes out.
FIN
So there we have it. The story of a desperate man, trying to save his people with any means necessary. He learns the hard way that no matter how tempting a thing can be..some methods may have grave repercussions.