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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1498226
I was suddenly struck with the idea for a story...Hope you enjoy...
Journal of Talila Melwasul
Year Twenty and One of the Snake moon.

“The evil of the world is spreading, consuming more and more…

I cannot remember the last time there was peace in Andaerea.
I cannot remember a time when death did not look down on us.
Neighbors oft die while only going to market for trade…
Glamhoth run rampant, devastating villages and towns.
They leave no survivors, only ravaged, smoldering ruins…

The Taurohtar are the protectors of the land.
But they seem as if they are gone,
And I fear that they are not strong enough to hold off the enemy for much longer…
Their past leader is now our present tormentor.
We have nothing left with which to live for.
I do not know when hope will come to chase away this fear…

The Taurohtar are weak and few in numbers…
But there is a spark amongst this cold, dark world.
There have been rumors that a rebel leader has arisen on the plains of Andaerea.
A man, a speaker.
A teacher, a warrior.
A leader.

I do not know when our savior will come to chase away this fear…
I can only hope he will take command before it’s too late.”


    Talila stood up in front of the crowd that had amassed inside the dank tavern, watching the wenches passing out mead and trying to ignore the blatant stares of her audience. She could see her loyal friend and bodyguard, Aubric watching the crowd intently, making sure the locals didn’t get too rowdy.  Talila and Aubric had been together for as long as she could remember. His father had been a slave, given to the Melwasul family as a gift. Aubric had been no more than 5 summers at the time.
    About to start her next verse, Talila was startled by a loud bang from the back of the tavern, made by the slam of the door on the wall. “The Glamhoth have attacked Strongtheld! They are on the main road!” The man’s voice was hoarse and breathless, making it hard for him to be understood. The tavern went deathly quiet as all waited with baited breath for the man to catch his breath and finish his announcement.
© Copyright 2008 Rayven Turner (bttrmemory at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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