So this is the first time I've
written a note before the start of a story. Just to say that I'm
not especially pleased with this 'sample'. It's insanely long
(for a sample), so most people won't read it all. Besides that, I'm
just not proud of the story and writing. This is a 're-imagining'
of my earlier story, The Lamplighters. I enjoyed writing the first
part, but things really fall apart when the action starts. I only
really started redeeming myself at the last few lines, and by then it
was too little too late. Still, I enjoyed expanding this universe and
these characters a bit more, so hopefully it isn't all bad. I would
also like to point out that A Rude Interruption is from the same
'continuity', and the girl is Nimh, and the man Bridgemore.
Waves crashed up against the side of
the ship, spraying sea foam into the air, which proceeded to mingle
with the impenetrable fog that surrounded the ship. The sky was
filled with thick grey clouds, which half-heartedly dribbled rain
over the sea. Neither the sun nor the moon were present, although
some light still filtered through the clouds, barely keeping the
oncoming night at bay. Occasionally, one could hear the low, moaning
calls of Torim under the waves, as Bridgemore pulled hard on the
reigns, turning sharply out of the way of some submerged obstacle,
covered in a slick layer of algae. Occasionally, he would glance at
the others, when they were out in the deep of the ocean, away from
hidden rocks and such. Nimh often stood staring over the railing, at
the waves licking the sides of the boat, as they rose and fell in the
shapes of mountains and valleys, her expression stony faced. Sven,
determined to be as practical as possible now, rushed back and forth,
up and down and side to side, fixing or adjusting anything and
everything, no matter how big or small. Occasionally he and
Bridgemore would chat, not really of anything important, but simply
to break the stormy silence.
"How many days at sea so far, eh
Bridgemore?" He would say loudly, trying to get Nimh to join in on
the conversation.
"We're counting thirteen days
this evening!" Bridgemore would reply in a falsely cheerful voice,
as Sven shot hopeful glances at Nimh, although every time her moody
expression was set solely on the ocean, paying them no heed.
"How time flies, when you're
having fun!" He would chuckle awkwardly as he strolled casually
back to the men's cabin, no doubt to rehearse another conversation.
Bridgemore had seen very little of Sauri for the last few days. It
seemed she had retired to the ladies cabin, where Bridgemore had no
doubt she was practising earth sorcery. Indeed, he sometimes felt the
boats weight shift suddenly at night, occasionally accompanied by a
large crash, likely caused by the sudden appearance of a rather heavy
chunk of rock. Other than that, to say their journey was uneventful
would be a large understatement. For almost two weeks they had simply
been drifting near the shore, just out of sight. They saw no animals
(with the exception of Torim) and the weather remained in the same
dreary state. The only time they had docked was to replenish their
provisions from some seedy looking merchants. Every evening, when
Sven took the reins of Torim and steered them out into the deeper
ocean, where they could simply cruise for the night, Bridgemore would
escape to the back of the ship, where he would try and crack the
secrets of his pendant, which remained stubbornly inactive. Try as he
might, all the pendant did was sit there gleaming in the lazy flicker
of the candlelight. He had tried speaking incantations from other
languages, performing every possible magick-ish gesture with the
thing, and even thrusting it over one of the many blazing torches, in
an attempt to try and channel the flames, only for the thing to come
out searing hot, and scald his hand. He thought bitterly of Sauri,
and how easily she could control the earth. He had seen her the day
before, lazily urging a small pillar of earth, barely the size of a
ruler to fall and rise out of the ground on a whim. He thought of
this sourly as he recalled an evening a few days ago, where he had
asked for guidance in manipulating the flames. But it seemed that he
alone would have to learn the workings of the pendant, as her reply
had been a fairly blatant 'no'.
"I'm sorry Bridgemore," she had
said, shaking her head. "I have no knowledge in the realm of fire,
nor in the ways of channelling items. I'm sorry; but that's my
answer. I suggest you get back to practising." She had said, as he
opened his mouth to argue. With that, she had shut the door in his
face, leaving him alone in the hallway, feeling quite flabbergasted.
So he returned to the back of the ship, where he went every evening,
including this equally unsuccessful one, where he thought longingly
of his home, and the friendly glow of his fireplace. He felt that
using the pendant would have been infinitely easier if he could sit
by his hearth, or in fact just the inside of any warm room.
Unfortunately, Nimh and Sauri had agreed that just in case he managed
to conjure fire (not likely
he thought), it had best be done outdoors. So it was that Bridgemore
found himself yet again sitting on the ground with his pendant, and
although this part of the ship was slightly warmer, he still found
himself shivering, his arms clenched tightly with the cold. He stared
at the pendant, not entirely sure what to do with it. He had
essentially given up hope of using the thing, at least not without a
proper teacher, and yet he couldn't help but feel like Sauri must
know something, anything
that could at least point him in the right direction. He also
suspected that she may have been hiding something from him. He seemed
to remember a very sad look on her face when she denied him help, but
now he wondered whether his brain was playing tricks on him, making
him remember things that weren't there to begin with. He sat there,
by himself in the dark, contemplating these strange thoughts, but as
he stared into the fog, he became aware of an unpleasant feeling of
fear, gnawing away at him. Most other nights here he had been too
busy with his pendant to think about much else, but now, as he sat
there, he began to think about this fear he was feeling, and as he
thought about it, shivering in the dark, it seemed to grow. He could
hear the thrashing of the waves, the strikes of distant thunder, and
as he pressed a hand to his clammy chest, his distant heartbeat,
although only a feeling, magnifying the sounds of the night. As his
drumming heartbeat intensified, he tore his hand from his heart, the
drumming faded, and he became conscious of his deep, heaving breaths.
Staggering to his feet, a feeling of nausea coming to him now, he
stumbled to the side of the ship, cradling his stomach. As he stared
into the endless black of the cloudy night, trying to concentrate on
the invisible horizon, he noticed something out on the ocean, barely
visible through the fog. His growing fear intensified, his heart
racing as he saw several separate lights out in the ocean. They
seemed to be the glow of lanterns, swinging in the breeze. They were
too far apart and too sporadic too be part of the same vessel, and
Bridgemore counted about seven of them. Despite the cold, beads of
sweat started to appear on his forehead, and his fear and nausea grew
as he stared at them. He knew they were moving, coming gradually
closer to the ship, but he couldn't seem to see them moving. They
didn't seem to physically move with time, nor did they just appear
closer in the blink of an eye, they simply became closer.
"Sven!" Bridgemore shouted. "Come
here, quick!" His voice sounded shrill and quaky in the wind.
Staring desperately into the dark, Bridgemore's heart sank as
nobody came, until there Sven was, stumping there from the back of
the ship.
"There you are!" He said. "You
left your pendant."
Bridgemore grabbed Sven's shirt,
and pulled him to the edge of the ship.
"What in Vvarden's name?" He
murmured. Tearing his eyes away from the floating lights, now mere
metres away from the ship, Bridgemore looked up at Sven. His hands
were trembling slightly on the railing, his eyes wide.
"Come on;" He said shakily.
"We're getting Sauri!" With that, he tore off to the inside of
the ship, Bridgemore trailing behind him.
"What is it!?" Bridgemore yelled.
"What are they?"
"A surprise attack at best;" Sven
called back, yanking the cabin door open. To the right was the men's
cabin, to the left, the ladies. He skidded to the left and knocked
furiously on their door. After a moment, Nimh opened the door, her
expression confused.
"Sauri!" Sven boomed, and in a
flash she stood behind Nimh.
"There's something coming on
board!" They both said. Without anything more, Sauri pushed past
all three of them, running swiftly onto the deck. The others looked
at each other, then followed after her. Bridgemore's sense of fear
had doubled now, and he could tell Sven felt the same way, and he was
sure Nimh would feel it soon too. It was an unnatural sickly feeling,
which Bridgemore was sure was not his fault. From the back of the
ship, they heard Sauri call;
"Everybody, back inside!" Her
voice was laced with fear. Bridgemore made to turn back, but sheer
curiosity kept him moving to Sauri's voice. Clutching his pendant,
Bridgemore turned the corner, and for the first time, saw the things
that made Sauri, Sage of the Earth, afraid. There were about three on
board so far, but the closest one was only a short distance away. The
first thing he noticed was its smile. The thing didn't have lips,
but the skin of its mouth was stretched into a large, grotesque grin.
This revealed several long, thin and sharp teeth, discoloured from
years of decay and bloodstains. Its eyes were thin, with no pupils,
blank and piercing, although they were partially hidden by a thin,
black bandage, wound tightly around the head, revealing only the
smile and the eyes. It was about Bridgemore's height, though
slightly hunched, making it slightly shorter than the average person.
It was clothed in filthy rags which varied in colour from black to
grey. Its arms seemed unnaturally long, stretching down to just above
the legs, which were bent and extremely thin. It stood on the ball of
its feet, animal-like, which were also strangely long. All of this
was illuminated by a swinging, creaking lantern held in its right
hand, explaining the lights at sea. This provided a soft glow that
gave whatever little portion of the skin was visible a sickly yellow
tinge. As Bridgemore stared, his feeling of fear and nausea doubled,
as his knees buckled, pulling himself up by the railing. His vision
blurred, as he became faintly aware of the fact that the thing was
advancing, its disfigured face moving closer to him. As it moved, he
became illuminated by the light, and his skin started burning, his
body wracking with pain. The light was searing his skin, he screamed
with pain, although he could not hear it, and sank to the ground. His
eyes seemed tainted by the creature, all he could see was its
terrible, horrifying face, floating above him, taunting him as he
burned. Suddenly he felt his body being lifted, and the distant yell
of a man as the pain lifted somewhat. It seemed reality was seeping
into his mind again, the vision of the creature fading from his
sight. He became aware of his surroundings, cruelly aware of the
burning pain on his arms, his hand in particular searing terribly.
His ears became filled with his own desperate breaths, he realised
that he was being carried, it seemed, by Sven, his body shaking as
Sven took great lumbering steps. He saw a flash of Nimh's hair in
his vision, heard the earth being bent to Sauri's will, then a door
being slammed shut. He was set on something soft, and full
consciousness seemed to come to him as he took deep, grateful breaths
of clean air. For a moment, he lay there, ignoring the voices of his
companions, his eyes shut tight, before Sauri's voice weighed him
down to reality.
"You fool!"
She yelled angrily. He felt Sauri's staff crash into his side with
a dull thud, though it didn't really hurt, and heard the angry
retorts of Nimh and Sven.
"Bridgemore!" Nimh said
desperately after a moment. Opening his eyes slowly, he saw Nimh's
face relax. He looked around him. It seemed he was in his cabin,
laying down on one of the beds. Suddenly, there was a colossal crash
from outside, and the cabin
lurched. Bridgemore gasped in pain as Nimh fell on him, his burns
searing again.
"Sorry, I'm sorry!" She cried.
Sauri, however, did not have so much sympathy.
"I told you to get inside!" She
said furiously. Bridgemore remained silent, shame welling up inside
him. Why had he been so desperate to see the thing? He looked at
Sven, who was backed up against the door, his arms blistered and red,
likely from when he had to save Bridgemore. Sauri had risen a huge
slab of earth outside, shielding the cabin from the burning light.
"Keep that light alive!" She
said, gesturing to a flickering candle sitting on a table in the
corner of the room. "They grow stronger in the dark, where there
light reaches the farthest!"
Nimh rushed over to the table,
breathing gently on the flame, so it rose, providing slightly more
brightness. Sven reached up and wrenched the curtain shut, leaving
them in near darkness, with the cabin crashing dangerously
occasionally from the creature's onslaught.
"Who are those people?" He
yelled, as another crash came from outside.
"People!" Sauri snorted. "Those
are the Lamplighters!"
"Lamplighters!?" Nimh asked.
Bridgemore stood shakily, peering out of the glass of the door.
Sauri's earth wall had been physically melted away by the sheer
strength of their lights, but Bridgemore could not see any molten
rock. The Lamplighters had surrounded the cabin entrances, and all
the lights outside seemed to have been extinguished. Their hideous
smiles shone through the darkness, barely visible in the lamplight.
"Lamplighters!"
Sauri repeated. "Stay out of the light!" With that, the last of
her original stone wall was melted away. The Lamplighters advanced,
though they did not seem to move, their blank eyes coming ever
closer. With a yell mixed with pain and desperation, Sauri thrust her
arms into the air, a huge block of earth reaching from floor to
ceiling, much thicker than the last, coming between them and the
Lamplighters. With that final act of magic done, she collapsed to the
ground, unconscious. Calling Bridgemore over, Sven and he carried her
to the bed. For a moment they simply stood there. Even if Sauri's
wall did last, they had no food, and the window was too small to
escape through. Sven stumbled over to his chair, his face in his
hands. Nimh was still desperately keeping the candle alive, her face
alive with dread. Bridgemore sat down on the bed, horror filling his
entire being. They had failed, failed before they had even done
anything. This was the end, no way out. All they could do was wait
for the rock to melt away, lambs going to the slaughter. He found
himself thinking about the strangest things, things that hardly
mattered. What would happen to his dear old house? Would the Red
Banner receive the news of a Church of a Thousand Faces? If they
didn't, they would surely be crushed. Akevan would be lost, or
changed for the worst, everything he ever knew, gone. He winced as
the burns on his arms pained him, but did it really matter? No, it
wouldn't matter, not in a few minutes. He thought of a woman who he
had often seen in the streets, bitterly wishing he had plucked up the
courage to talk to her. Perhaps things would've been different,
perhaps he wouldn't have been accused of a crime he hadn't
committed, framed by a girl from the Northern Isles.
I'll never be able to use my
pendant. He thought sadly,
before a sudden rush of adrenaline hit him like a speeding arrow. A
feeble ray of hope blooming inside him. He fumbled the pendant out of
his coat pocket, his heart racing. He laid it down on the bed,
shifting into the meditation position he so often saw Sauri in. Nimh
glanced at him, before turning back to the candle, which flickered
out of life for a moment before rekindling, causing her to gasp with
fear. Bridgemore closed his eyes, filling his thoughts with fire,
logs crumbling, and wicks fading away into black dust. Suddenly, a
large crackle came from outside, as rock crumbled away from stone.
The Lamplighters had almost arrived. Sven stood suddenly, sniffling
slightly, his eyes blazing with determination. He moved to his pack
in the corner, tearing strips of fabric off the bag. He wrapped the
fabric around his exposed skin, showing no sign of pain as he brushed
his burns. He passed some fabric to Nimh, and when Bridgemore
remained in his meditative state, Sven wrapped Bridgemore's skin
himself.
"If I'm to be finished," He
muttered to himself, twirling his moustache. "Then so shall they!"
Bridgemore frowned, trying to ignore
the noise pollution. Images of flames and infernos still flashed
through his mind, but he felt no nearer to the pendant's secrets
then he had the night before. His mouth felt dry and cracked, and
although he tried to ignore it, his own constant, drumming pulse
could be felt under the pressure of his wraps. Doom
doom. Doom doom. As he felt
his heartbeat, the sounds of the world seemed to fade away. The
steady crumble of stone became a distant sound, as though he was
hearing it from another building. His own drumming heartbeat filled
his ears, as his mind became clear of pictures of flame, leaving only
pure black for him to see. As he heard Sven give a muffled yell
beside him, although it felt like the sounds were miles away, a
smooth, clear voice, neither male nor female filled his mind.
"I hope you're good with
fire." It was there for
only a moment, before the voice faded. For a moment there was
nothing, as he pondered these words. Then, in the centre of his
vision, a tiny pinprick of light appeared. It glowed with a fierce
orange light, before growing larger and larger. Soon, the great
flaming image of the sun filled his mind, a great expanse of nothing
but flames collapsing in on flames, the source of warmth and growth,
but also blazing heat and burns. Suddenly, terrible visions started
clouding his mind. He saw a thin white bone, being burnt until
nothing but white powder remained, and even for that to be blown out
into the wind. He saw entire villages blazing, people being trapped
in their houses, before being consumed by the flames, their
expressions one of anguish. He saw swords being forged and tempered
in fire, then being used to kill and maim, as fire took more and more
victims, however indirectly. Then, the swords became red hot pokers,
being pressed onto the flesh, used for torture and pain. The face of
a woman, as old as Sauri appeared, her eyes flaming orbs, cruel and
piercing. Suddenly, her face became that of a Lamplighter, its
hideous face clouding his vision, its smile threatening to swallow
him, extinguish the flames...
"No!" Bridgemore heard the sound
leave his mouth, as the vision faded away, as if it were mere smoke,
leaving him in the dangers of reality. He was lying on the floor,
sweat beading on his forehead. He heard Sven and Nimh give equal
sighs of relief, as he sat up, feeling feverish. He looked up at the
door. The stone wall visible through their window was cracked, and
faintly glowed red.
"Another few minutes, and they're
through." Said Nimh grimly. "Can you walk, Bridgemore?" But
Bridgemore wasn't paying attention to her. His eyes were set firmly
on the red-golden pendant. It lay on the ground, and the stone floor
around it was singed black. The pendant was burning into the ground.
Numb excitement running through him, Bridgemore scooped up the
amulet, and although he could feel the heat it was radiating, it was
cold to the touch. With a burst of excitement, he conjured a wisp of
flame into being, his own will turned into fire. He whooped with joy
as the flame spiralled into smoke, lighting the room warmly for a
moment. He continued conjuring little balls of flame, his elation
increasing with each one he made. When Sven saw what he was doing, he
started laughing heartily, his teary eyed face full of joy. Nimh
joined in on the laughter, stress and fear fading from her
expression. For a while, so glad at this seemingly miraculous pendant
channelling, they laughed raucously in spite of themselves, in spite
of the seven Lamplighters at their doorstep, in spite of the
unconscious Sauri on the bed next to Bridgemore, in spite of the
terrible burns on their skin. Their chance at survival had come, they
had a defence, offence, light and warmth.
"We can burn off their faces!"
Cheered Sven ludicrously. Just when they had started to overcome
their fits of laughter, Bridgemore and Nimh had to laugh at the sheer
ridiculous notion Sven had just put forth. But Bridgemore's
laughter faded as much darker thoughts crept into his mind. Burn off
their faces. Burn. He thought of the words with which he had been
given the pendant. To
manipulate and heat, not to scorch and burn. The
terrible images of his visions leaked into his thoughts, of the death
and destruction fire brought, and the pain. He thought of the
terrible anguish he felt under the glow of the Lamplighters, of the
ebb and flow of pain that came and went along with burns.
"I can't do it." He said aloud.
Nimh and Sven's conversation and laughter died down as they heard
this.
"I can't kill them!" He said
loudly, looking at the other two wildly.
"Burn them then!" Nimh said.
"Incapacitate them, anything!" Bridgemore could hear some fear
and doubt returning to her voice. Suddenly, the door shuddered
violently, as a loud bang
sounded from outside as the last of the stone wall crumbled away.
Sven rushed over to the second bed, where he scooped up the feeble
form of Sauri easily, then the three of them backed into the corner.
"If you're not going to kill them
Bridgemore, you'd better do something quick!" Said Sven gruffly.
Suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness, as the candle behind
them fizzled out. Nimh gave a muffled scream as the faces of the
Lamplighters shone through the window, some sickly fluid leaking from
the corners of their mouths. Dread filling his entire being,
Bridgemore tried to conjure a flame to fill the wick of the candle,
but no fire would kindle. At that moment, the door caught alight,
orange flames licking at the inside of the room. For a moment, it
simply stood there, throwing the room into sharp relief as Bridgemore
struggled to think of a way to stop the Lamplighters without
resorting to killing. He felt terrified and frustrated, unable to
think with the smiling faces glaring down at him. Then, the door
keeled over, the outside face landing upwards. It was burnt black
with glowing orange embers, as if it were a log that had been burning
for several hours. Slowly, the Lamplighters advanced, filling the
room with their scorching light. Metal sizzled and wood crackled as
their light advanced, burning the room away. Bridgemore gasped
painfully as the light reached him, his skin searing under the lamps
glow. He stared into the lamplight as his companions were reached by
the light, their pain becoming his pain, as the centre of the lamp
glowed and burnt like a miniature sun. Suddenly, it came to him, in
one brilliant thought. The lanterns were candles, not gas lights!
Gripping the pendant firmly, he thought of flames extinguishing, the
rain quelling wildfire, cold breath outing a candle, flame becoming
smoke. In an instant, all became dark. The pained cries of Sven and
Nimh faded into confusion, and the searing pain of the lamplight
vanished. The Lamplighters lanterns had been extinguished, their
power lost.
"Run!" Bridgemore yelled. He
grabbed Nimh's hand and ran into the crowd of Lamplighters, the
burnt door crunching beneath their feet. He could hear Sven's
large, lumbering footsteps coming from behind, presumably weighed
down by Sauri. Bridgemore pushed through the Lamplighters, yelping as
his skin came into contact with ice cold flesh, almost as if it were
dead, and his ears filled with an unbearable buzzing noise. Still, he
pushed through the crowd, coming to the faint outline of the edge of
the ship.
"Jump!" Said Bridgemore. Without
thinking, stopping for a moment to ponder the consequences, he leapt
over the side, his world going into freefall, as he escaped the heat,
plunging into the deep cold of the ocean.
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