Oh, Wonder Why the Sun Fell: Chapter Twelve

Fiction By Bernadette // 7/2/2011


Chapter Twelve
A river surrounded Hethwenthor and many bridges crossed it. Neither of us made any plans for crossing it. We both knew we must cross, and that was all. There was none that we met on our way. No other sound we heard other than our own echoing footfalls. We were so in the depth of Darkness that we could not see the Clock anymore, nor hear it tick through the hours.  
 The Street of Farenfenther where Count Gorsail dwelt was not far from the edge of the city. Soon we were upon it. All the dark back streets ended. The streets were cobblestone and shined in the light of the lampposts. Many lighted buildings were there bordering the street with many iron gates covered in ivy. We crept back for a moment in the shadows.
“Someone is watching us.”  

My mind rallied when I found my sword nearly biting his neck. His hands were on the knob, shaking and pulling hard at it. I saw his strength. My fingers were cramped as I tried to keep the blade from trembling. I couldn’t kill. I was not a warrior. But this was my keep, and I was given the guard.
   I heard and felt a choking breath slip out of him.  Beneath my stroke his body went limp, but not dead, far from dead. My own breathing collapsed. I let it out, clear and strong. But soon I heard my other enemy walking over the fallen door. He was nearer than what I had heard. I felt two caging hands like steel clench upon my shoulder and lift me up. My blade was my stapler, and fear drew me to hold it ever the more. As I was being lifted, I fell back so as to fling him from me; yet the blade I still held within my grasp. I was shaken and tremulous as I swung about and with the hilt of the blade struck my enemy in the face.
The world spun and went wrong. He fell hard enough that the door was broken open. Then I realized something: I had done what was against my father’s will, however evil he was, and wounded two of his guards. His blood ran in my veins, yet a doubt I did not expect was gnawing in me slowly.
My breath gasped. Narher let the sword come loose and out of me. The stroke had been low and near my neck. Blood came swiftly, my strength flowed with it. My body was numb; the blade had gone too deep. Narher lifted me up; two other guards came to support me. Silence had followed Narher’s deadly stroke. You could now see flames of torches and flames within lanterns. The horses’ snorting became loud and strong. Many guards stayed stationary, some looked among the dead that had fallen, many by the dogs. Yet they were not within the courtyard.  The dogs were gone along with their master who had followed one of the Marher. My mind was too sunken to ponder these. 
   A Marher was before me, his black horse glistening brown with sweat in the light. I could see flickering lights that caught shadows on the Maher’s face; for but a moment I felt a quiver of fear, yet it could not master me any longer than that.       



I got a little shudder from reading this! The descriptions were great, like the horse glistening brown with sweat in the light... And the names of everything are really cool... I also liked the first segment a lot for some reason.

Hannah W. | Sun, 07/03/2011


I think this is getting to a climax soon..... the part about the caging hands was brillant.... I also think that the fact that you made the character in the second paragraph doubt himself was a example of great writing... it gave the character a lot of depth.... keep it coming!

Elizabeth | Wed, 07/06/2011


The Holy Spirit is the quiet guest of our soul." -St. Augustine


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