WIP: Let There Be Light, Book 1 of The Flames of Hope Trilogy

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  • #182078
    Ellette Giselle
    @ellette-giselle
      • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
      • Total Posts: 1072

      @theshadow

      This is the first section. Can’t wait for your thoughts!!!

      Let There Be Light
      The Flames of Hope Trilogy
      Book 1

      And God said,

      “Let there be light,”

      and there was light…

      ~Genesis 1:3

      Long ago there was a small kingdom called Ardenta. It was a beautiful land, known for it’s skillful architecture and beautiful scenery. It was a peaceful country for the most part, and the people cared more for farming and building than they did for wars, conquest and fighting. The people of the land were tall, with dark hair and eyes. They were often quite, and they were wary and suspicious of strangers. Travelers seldom passed through their lands for they found the people reserved and unwilling to interact with strangers. Many described them as being like deer, beautiful, shy and swift. Some thought this odd, others thought of them as unfriendly, and still others didn’t care the least bit. But some saw these things as an advantage to take over the small country. One emperor in particular was bent on making Ardenta a province of his empire. Unexpectedly, this emperor launched an attack on the small country, and one by one towns and villages fell into his hands and he turned his sights on the beautiful capital; Darvora.

      *********

      In the country of Vendailia there was a town called Bentiea. It was a small town, mostly built around the market. It was in a neat little house at the end of the street where the minister, his daughter, and foster son lived.

      The Minister’s Fosterling was in the upstairs room of the house, and he was supposed to be studding history with his mentor. Apparently, his mind was on other things, for he was staring at the wall, spinning his quill slowly through his fingers in a circle, making a mess of ink on the table and parchment. His teacher, a tall man with a hawk-like nose was standing facing the window, a wide leather volume in his hands. He was talking, but his young student was not paying attention. At last he turned and noticed the state of his supposed listener. “Aaron,” he said. “Aaron Dalvarian are you listening?”

      Aaron jerked his head up. “What?”

      “It is courteous of you to return to this world,” said his teacher, his eyebrows arched. “Where, may I ask, were you?”

      “A war,” replied Aaron, his eyes turning to the window. “In Ardenta,” he added slowly.

      “Well, would you be so kind as to come home from war and finish your studies?” asked his teacher, slightly annoyed and slightly sympathetic, for of all his students, the minister’s adopted son was his favorite. “Aaron,” he said again.

      Aaron turned away from the window, the far away look leaving his face. “I’m sorry sir,” he said, running a hand through his blond hair that remained in a constant state of disorder. “I guess I’m not all the way here today.”

      “I can see that,” replied his teacher. He came to the table and sat down beside his student. “Tell me, what about wars are you so intrigued in? Perhaps we could turn our studies to some of the great battles fought in the past.”

      “Oh it’s not wars that I’m really interested in,” replied Aaron. “I was thinking about the people.”

      “Hmm, there have not really been any heroes worth mentioning in the war that has your mind, but I’m sure you would be interested in plenty of others. In fact, I know of many great leaders, tacticians, spies, kings; all sorts of warriors.” he got up and began to peruse the wooden shelves of leather bound volumes. “I’m sure there are some heroes to capture your imagination among these books,” he said.

      “Well,” began Aaron, “it wasn’t exactly––”

      His teacher continued. “Now here is something you would like. It’s about Sir Danmar Gordanson. I know a great deal about him My friend was his great grandson. I can tell you plenty of stories about his adventures and heroics. Let us leave off that other dull book for the moment shall we?”

      ******

      That night, Aaron did not speak at the table. Clorinda, his adoptive sister, made up for his lack of conversation. She was full of the news of her dearest friend’s betrothal, and all the plans for the wedding celebration.

      Aaron stared at the table, not hearing a word she spoke. His mind was busy working over a serious decision. After supper, he helped Clorinda clear the table and then walked upstairs to his father’s study. He knocked on the door, and his father’s voice invited him in.

      “Ah, Aaron, I was expecting you,” said his father, putting down his quill and rising. “Come sit,” he added, motioning to the floor in front of the hearth.

      Aaron sat down and his father settled beside him, but far enough away so that he could see the boy’s face clearly. “Have you come to talk to me about what’s been on your mind?” he asked.

      “Yes sir,” replied Aaron. He watched the flames dancing on the hearth; gathering his thoughts. At last, he spoke. “I have been thinking about Ardenta.”

      “What about it?” asked his father.

      “The war some, but mostly the people,” replied Aaron.

      “Master Hollyoak told me you had a sudden obsession with war heroes,” smiled his father.

      Aaron chuckled. “No, it wasn’t war heroes. I was thinking about all the people. You have told me before that they are a shy people, wary of strangers, and they do not listen to foreign ideas. Is that not what you said?”

      “Aye,” sighed his father. “It is. That is why it has been so hard to try to reach them with the Word of God. You would think it would be easy as they speak the common tongue, and are like us in many ways. But alas, they are harder to reach then those who know nothing of the manner of life we live, and who speak strange languages.”

      Aaron nodded slowly. “But what about now?”

      “Now it would be nearly impossible, for no one dares to go there with the war, and I am sure they would be even less inclined to hear from strangers.”

      “But what if someone were to go to them and live among them, helping them, working with them, fighting with them, facing what they face, suffering what they suffer, living where they live. Would they not be inclined to listen? Perhaps just a few at first, but then more and more. Wouldn’t it catch their attention that someone would come to their war-torn country and live with them? Wouldn’t they wonder what was so important for that man to put himself in what seems like unnecessary peril?”

      His father looked at him uncertainly. “Yes, I suppose it would. But, who would take on this task?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

      Aaron turned to look at him for the first time since the conversation had begun. “Do you remember when my parents died in the fire that nearly destroyed my whole village, yet I was spared?”

      His father nodded. “Aye, I remember it well. It was the day my sweet wife passed away. I was distraught and had gone for a ride alone on my horse when I came upon the village and I found you, a young lad of eight. You touched my heart that day, and I believe it was God who brought us together when we needed one another most. Helping you helped to heal me.”

      “Do you remember what you told me that night?”

      “I told you many things.”

      “Well, the one that I have never forgotten is when you were holding me on your lap in this very room, right here on the floor, and you said, ‘Aaron, God rescued you from the fire for a very special reason. I believe theres something very important He is preparing you for.’ I have never forgotten. Even though I had no idea who God was, I knew you were telling me something very special that I should never forget. You cared for me, and you did the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me and ever will; you brought me to Christ. You taught me from the Scriptures and you told me what Christ did for me and how He died for my sins and saved me. There will never be anything more important then the night that I accepted Christ as my Savior and became a child of God. I will never forget the joy that shattered the darkness of the world I had lived in, and of the light that came into my life.” He paused for a long moment, and then looked at his father. “God did save me for something very important. He has been preparing me to go to the people of Ardenta.”

      “Are you sure?” asked his father.

      “Yes,” replied Aaron firmly. “I have been praying about it for several weeks now, but today I knew. God spoke to my heart, and He told me to go. I have never felt more certain or more confidant of anything in my life.”

      His father did not speak for a long time, and the two sat in silence; Aaron looking at his father, and his father looking at the fire.

      At last, his father spoke. “What about your studies? Wasn’t it your dream to become one of the historians of the palace?”

      “Yes,” replied Aaron.

      “Master Hollyoak said he has seen no better student and he would certainly find a place for you in the king’s service.”

      Aaron fully faced his father, his eyes searching. “Is there anything more important than obeying God’s calling?”

      His father shook his head. “No, I am merely surprised. In a month’s time you could hold a highly honored position among our people, and this is something you have spent many years working to achieve. I am surprised, but I am also proud. It is clear that God has something else planned for your life, and I am filled with joy at seeing you turn away from the world to follow Him. You are young though, barely eighteen, and you are about to throw yourself in the middle of a war, among a people who will not trust you and may not offer you what little protection they themselves have. Are you absolutely sure this is what you are supposed to do?”

      “Yes. I have no doubt. These people need Christ, and someone must tell them, more so than ever now that there is a war,” replied Aaron.

      “When do you plan to leave?”

      “Before the week’s end.”

      “So soon?” asked his father.

      “Yes. Today I knew I had to leave as soon as possible. I don’t know why, but for some reason God wants me too, I feel it deep inside, He is urging me to go, and He is urging me to go now.”

      “Then you are set on this path?” asked his father.

      “Yes sir,” replied Aaron. He looked up and saw sorrow in his father’s eyes. “It is nothing that you have done. Nothing in me wants to leave you. You have been a wonderful father to me, and Clorinda has been the dearest older sister anyone could have! You have taught me so much, and I have loved to see you teach the Word of God to the people of the village. You helped me to get my schooling, which I will always be grateful for. This is my home, and I love it here, but I feel God is urging me to go. This life I have been given–– the way He saved me from the fire and you found me, your care and teaching, the love that has been shown to me–– it has all been preparing me for this. You have been a wonderful father, and I thank God for you every day. I will never forget this place or the love you have shown to me.”

      His father smiled and put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “I am not upset. I am sad to see you leave, for I love you, Aaron. But I could not be more glad or more proud. To see you turn aside from worldly glory and humble yourself to live among a people who will not welcome you. To see you so readily step into the dangers of a war fraught land, serving God and bringing His word to Ardenta… nothing could give me more joy and pride.”

      Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

      #182079
      Ellette Giselle
      @ellette-giselle
        • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
        • Total Posts: 1072

        @theshadow

        Also, this map might help you to visualize the countries.

        Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

        #182190
        Ellette Giselle
        @ellette-giselle
          • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
          • Total Posts: 1072

          @theshadow

           

          Hello, I haven’t heard from you in a little while! Just wanted to make sure this got to you!

           

          Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

          #182214
          TheShadow
          @theshadow
            • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
            • Total Posts: 305

            @ellette-giselle

            Sorry I haven’t been getting back to you! I was at a lake house for a few days with friends. But now I’m back, so I’ll probably read over the first chapter this morning and tell you my thoughts. Sorry again!

            "No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"

            #182218
            Ellette Giselle
            @ellette-giselle
              • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
              • Total Posts: 1072

              @theshadow

               

              Oh that is totally fine. Me being an author, I starting wondering if something had happened to you, and I was hoping that you were ok. lol. I need to quit thinking the worst! haha! Just wait until time allows. Hope you had a fun time at the Lake!

              Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

              #182222
              TheShadow
              @theshadow
                • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
                • Total Posts: 305

                @ellette-giselle

                Thanks!! It was fun, just very, very tiring XD

                "No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"

                #182223
                TheShadow
                @theshadow
                  • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
                  • Total Posts: 305

                  @ellette-giselle

                  First chapter was good, though I’m a bit confused. Does this take place in the real world, or in a fictional world? Also how old is Aaron?

                  "No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"

                  #182226
                  Ellette Giselle
                  @ellette-giselle
                    • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                    • Total Posts: 1072

                    @theshadow

                    Does this take place in the real world, or in a fictional world?

                    Oh, a fictional world. I thought that was clear with the country names. It’s a fictional world, but the story could have taken place in the real world. (i.e. not fantasy or something like that)

                    Aaron is 18. Did I not say that? I did in the first draft. whoops.

                     

                     

                    Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

                    #182228
                    Ellette Giselle
                    @ellette-giselle
                      • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                      • Total Posts: 1072

                      @theshadow

                      Here is the next section.

                       

                      “Aaron! Aaron, wait up!”

                      Aaron turned and saw his friend running down the road to catch up with him. “Hello Peter.”

                      “Aaron, what on earth is going on?” demanded Peter.

                      “What do you mean?” asked Aaron, leaning against the fence that ran next to the road.

                      “You,” exclaimed Peter. “You’ve been acting as though you lost your wits.”

                      “How so?”

                      “Well, first off, your father told my father that his services were no longer needed! Can that be true?”

                      “Master Hollyoak has been a wonderful teacher, Peter. I told him so myself. But yes, it is true that I will no longer be schooling under him.”

                      Peter took a moment to sort out his thoughts. “That’s only the beginning. You have started wondering around out here and taking long walks by yourself.”

                      “I’ve been praying,” replied Aaron.

                      “Then my sister told me that she saw you in the tailors shop getting fitted for a set of clothing made in the traditional style of Ardentan peasants!”

                      “Yes, that’s true.”

                      “There is also a rumor that you might be leaving Bentiea!”

                      “I didn’t take you for one who put much stock in rumors,” teased Aaron.

                      Peter scowled at him. “Aaron, tell me straight, what is going on.”

                      “Well, everything that you heard is true. I’m leaving Bentiea. More then that, I’m leaving Vendailia altogether.”

                      Peter looked at Aaron as if he had just said the sky was green. “Why on earth would you do that?”

                      “I’m going to Ardenta to bring them God’s word.”

                      “Ardenta! Aaron are you mad?” cried Peter. “Just in case you forgot, the Empire is about to finish taking that country over.”

                      “That’s why I have to go in now,” replied Aaron.

                      “You’ve lost your mind,” retorted Peter.

                      “Listen Peter, those people need Christ. If the Empire does take them over, what a dark life they will be dragged into! They need hope and they need the truth. More then ever right now.”

                      “But Aaron, this is the Empire we’re talking about! They’re huge, and they have the largest military in the known world.”

                      “What are you saying?”

                      “I’m saying that Ardenta doesn’t have a chance. It’s not if the Empire takes them over, it’s when.”

                      “I know that.”

                      “Aaron, you aren’t listening. When that country gets taken over, it will become a part of the Empire. You know what that will mean?”

                      “Yes I do,” replied Aaron.

                      “No, I don’t think you do. If you really knew what that meant, you would be staying as far away from there as you could,” rejoined Peter.

                      Aaron raised an eyebrow.

                      “Aaron, please listen,” said Peter.

                      “I am listening.”

                      “The Ardentans won’t be happy to see you to begin with. If, and I mean if, you win their trust, then you will be trapped with them when they are crushed by the Empire. We’ve heard stories of what they do when taking over a kingdom. They fight without honor or mercy. They treat their enemies as rebels. The Imperial soldiers will massacre those who resist, and most likely kill off a good many of the boys and men of fighting age to keep them from rising up. They aren’t going to stop and ask if you’re Ardentan before they kill you. And if you survive the war, what then? You will be living in the Empire, Aaron. The Empire. They practice Polytheism, and they will most certainly force their gods on the Ardentans. Who do you think is the first person they are going to get rid of? The one who is teaching any other way of life or religion then what they want.”

                      “I have taken all this into consideration, Peter,” replied Aaron.

                      Peter sighed in frustration. “What about the place in the palace? The king has spoken to my father about you, and he is eager for you to join his court. The king, Aaron! You will go from a fosterling to an honored man in the king’s court.”

                      “Yes I would,” agreed Aaron. “But Peter, the King of all kings has called me to do something else for Him.”

                      “You would throw away everything and follow a path you know nothing about? In all likelihood it will only bring pain and death, Aaron.”

                      “So be it,” replied Aaron. “Peter, are you really trying to dissuade me from following the path God has called me to take?”

                      Peter looked down. “I just don’t understand, Aaron. It seems like such a… a waste. To throw away such a future in the hope that you could reach a people who will most likely never listen to you.”

                      Aaron put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Peter, if the king told you to go and do something that you didn’t understand, you would go, wouldn’t you?”

                      “Certainly.”

                      “No matter what he asked?”

                      “Yes.”

                      “It is like that for me, but even more so. You should go and study the Scriptures Peter. Seek to find out the truth. I pray you will come to love God as much as I do.”

                      Peter shrugged dejectedly. “I don’t know, Aaron. I always thought I did know and love Him, yet what you are about to do is something I cannot begin to understand. I wish you wouldn’t go.”

                      “But I have to, Peter.”

                      Peter sighed and shook his head. “I don’t understand you at all, Aaron. And neither does the rest of the town. They all think you’ve lost your wits.”

                      Aaron shrugged. “They may think what they like. It doesn’t change a thing.”

                      “I wish I understood, and even more then that, I wish you would stay put. You’re going to get hurt Aaron. Most likely killed. Please don’t go.”

                      “Peter, you will not convince me to change my mind. When I am gone, go to my father and learn from him, as I learned from yours. My father instructed me from the Scriptures, and it is because of him that I have come to know Christ the way I do now.”

                      “Alright Aaron, I’ll go and learn from him, if only to understand the thing you’re about to do,” replied Peter

                      ***

                      Three days later, in the early grey light of dawn, three figures could be seen standing outside the minister’s home. One was a girl, the second was her father, and the other was Aaron. He was dressed in dark grey, slightly bloused pants tucked into black boots. He wore a black vest over a brown shirt with sleeves that come to just below his elbows, and a leather pack on his back. If the people of Vendailia had seen him they would have thought it odd, but Aaron did not mind. This was the dress of the peasants of Ardenta, and he hoped it would help them view him with less fear.

                      Clorinda gave Aaron a hug, “I’ll pray for you,” she said, kissing him gently on the cheek. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I remember the day papa brought you to us. You were such a little thing, with the largest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

                      Aaron laughed, but deep inside he knew he would miss her gentle teasing.

                      “I love you, little brother,” Clorinda whispered, hugging him again. She stepped back and clasped her hands tightly, trying not to cry.

                      Aaron’s father embraced him, then he placed his hands on Aaron’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Remember, no matter where you are, or what you face, your Father is always at your side. You are never fatherless.” Aaron nodded and his father smiled. “I’m proud of you Aaron.”

                      “Thank you,” Aaron replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

                      His father slowly let him go, and Aaron stepped back. “Farewell until we meet again.”

                      Then he turned and walked down the path, to the road. Pausing to look back, he saw his father standing with an arm about Clorinda. They waved, and Aaron raised a hand in return. Then he started down the road, his steps light and his shoulders straight; eager to follow his heavenly Father’s call.

                      ***

                      Aaron walked most of the morning, his pace quick and steady. Toward midday his steps slowed and lost most of their spring. Seeing a sheltered place under a tree, Aaron sat down in the grass by the side of the road to eat some of the food his sister had packed for him. Aaron swung his pack off and opened it. He pulled out a piece of linen and unrolled it to reveal a wedge of cheese, some bread, and several slices of dried meat. After eating some of the food, Aaron wrapped up the rest and licked his fingers clean. He drank from his water flask and then leaned back against the tree, looking up at the wide blue sky. Aaron pulled out his Bible and flipped through it, not really sure what to read. One of the pages caught his eye and he paused to read. It was the last few verses of the Gospel of Matthew.

                      ‘And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”’

                      Aaron smiled, and his eyes drifted back to the last sentence. ‘“And behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”’ Aaron slowly closed the Bible and put it back in his haversack. He got to his feet and swung the leather pack onto his shoulders.

                      Toward evening, Aaron was extremely tired, and all he wanted to do was stop. He began counting his steps, telling himself to just do twenty more, and then twenty more again. He pushed his sweat-soaked hair from his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of road dust on his forehead. “God, I’ve been walking all day,” he said. “I’ll keep walking, and I won’t stop until I get to Ardenta, I have no notion of going back. But, I’m very tired. Please help me and give me the strength to keep going, and please provide a safe place for me to sleep.”

                      The words were barely out of his mouth when he heard a sound behind him. Turning, Aaron saw a wooden cart full of hay being driven by a man. It was coming out of the field by the roadside, and it soon caught up to him. “Ho there, where be you going young man?” asked stranger.

                      “Ardenta,” replied Aaron.

                      “That far? Where are you from?”

                      “Bentiea.”

                      “Have you been walking all that way?” asked the man.

                      “Aye sir,” answered Aaron.

                      “Climb aboard, I’m headed that direction myself and I’ll take you as far as my village.”

                      “Thank you sir,” said Aaron, grabbing the side and swinging aboard. “You are an answer to prayer.”

                      “Am I really?” asked the man. “And what prayer would that be?”

                      “That God would help me keep going as I was at the end of my strength,” replied Aaron.

                      “Well, I’m glad He sent me. My name is Irum,” he added.

                      “Aaron,” replied Aaron, shaking his hand.

                      Irum started up the horses and turned to Aaron. “So, what reason is taking you to Ardenta, if I may ask.”

                      “Well, I feel God is calling me to go and spread His Word among the people,” replied Aaron.

                      “Aye, some have attempted to before, but the people have no desire to hear. And right now the kingdom is torn apart by a war, do you really think it wise to go there?”

                      “Yes, I do,” replied Aaron. “I don’t know why, but I had a very strong urge to go now, as soon as possible.”

                      “Well, if you feel that’s what God is leading you to do, who am I to stand in the way? I say, do you have a place to stay tonight?”

                      “No sir,” replied Aaron.

                      “Than you shall stay with me, and tomorrow we will get an early start. You see, I’m bringing this hay to Derben, and I’ll take you that far.”

                      “Oh thank you,” exclaimed Aaron. “That is a double answer to prayer, and an unforeseen blessing.”

                      ***

                      The next afternoon, Aaron bade Irum farewell in Derben, and then continued on his way. He walked for many hours, humming songs as he went or talking to his heavenly Father. In this way he passed the time, and the miles and hours slipped away together. That night, Aaron found a sheltered place near the road and decided to make camp. He had been given food from Irum, and he decide if he used it wisely he could probably get far without having to buy more.

                      Aaron slowly pulled off his boots and pealed away his stockings. He had a few blisters that were bleeding. Aaron walked barefoot to a small stream and stepped into the water. The cold stream soothed his feet. Aaron sucked in a breath at the sting of the water against the blisters. He sat down on a large rock and leant back on his arms. “Well, one thing’s for sure, I’ll get used to walking, and that may come in handy. One never knows.”

                      After a while, Aaron waded back on shore and built a small fire. He ate a light meal and then read his Bible by the light of the fire. After a time of careful study, Aaron banked the fire and secured the strap of his satchel. Then lay down with his arm flung over his eyes and slept.

                      Two long and weary days later, Aaron found himself in sight of the border. He could hardly believe he had done it, and he sprinted the last half mile to the boundary line. There he stopped and caught his breath after the run. Aaron paused, and then, just because he couldn’t help it, he turned over into a handstand with one hand in Vendailia and the other in Ardenta. He held the position for nearly five seconds before tumbling to the ground laughing. “I’ll have to tell Clorinda that I stood on my hands in two different county at once!”

                      Aaron jumped to his feet and looked up at the big wooden sign by the road that marked the place where Ardenta and Vendailia met. He stood and looked at the land of Ardenta, wondering what it would be like, and how hard it would be to show the truth to such a lost people. It doesn’t seem very much like a country at war, he thought. But, the empire is in the West, and I’m in the East. Most of the fighting is probably on the other side of the country. Aaron took a deep breath. “Well Father, here I go.”

                      He moved forward, firmly stepping into the soil of Ardenta. Aaron glanced back at his homeland, the country he had never before set foot outside of before. Then, he turned and continued on, walking with renewed vigor; eager to see what lay ahead.

                       

                      Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

                      #182293
                      TheShadow
                      @theshadow
                        • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
                        • Total Posts: 305

                        @ellette-giselle

                        Im so sorry that I didn’t get back to you! Thank you for caring, I appreciate it, and for answering my questions. Since this is a fictional world, I would explain maybe how Christianity got there. Or is it basically the real world but different names? Sorry if this sounds confusing.

                        The second part was good, I don’t have much to comment on there.

                        "No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"

                        #182295
                        Ellette Giselle
                        @ellette-giselle
                          • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                          • Total Posts: 1072

                           

                          Or is it basically the real world but different names? Sorry if this sounds confusing.

                          Yes. It is. So, the Empire is a cross of Germany and Rome. Ardenta is kind of Spanish/Irish, and Vendalia is Briton/Saxony.

                          I crossed landscapes with customs and people groups. So yes, it’s basically the real world. You could say it’s just a country we haven’t ever heard of, type thing.

                           

                          The second part was good, I don’t have much to comment on there.

                          Nice. I’m glad. I’ll put section 3 on here in a sec.

                           

                           

                           

                          Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

                          #182296
                          Ellette Giselle
                          @ellette-giselle
                            • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                            • Total Posts: 1072

                            @theshadow (Sorry I didn’t tag you in the above message.)

                             

                            It was dusk before Aaron came in view of a building. He was extremely weary, but at sight of a house he hurried on, anxious to come in contact with the Ardentans. He stepped off the road and walked quickly across the field toward the house. He was nearly there, when a voice stopped him. “That’s far enough.”

                            Aaron looked up and spotted a young man leaning against the fence that formed a coral at the side of a barn. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at Aaron with a calculated expression. He wore the same kind sort of apparel Aaron had obtained, but he wore no shirt under his vest. The setting sun reflected off the sweat that covered his face and muscular arms. His skin was tanned bronze, and his hair and eyes were black dark. His facial features were angular and sharp, and he didn’t look exactly friendly. He seemed about two or three years older then Aaron.

                            Aaron stopped short. “Oh, hello.”

                            “What do you want stranger,” the Ardentan demanded in a clipped tone.

                            “I’m Aaron Dalvarian,” replied Aaron, offering his hand.

                            “I didn’t ask you what your name was, I asked what you wanted, and I’ll ask another question, what are you doing on my land?” replied the other, ignoring Aaron’s hand.

                            Aaron dropped his arm to his side. “I have been on the road many days, and I was seeking a place to stay for the night.”

                            “Where are you from?”

                            “Vendailia,” replied Aaron.

                            “Well that explains it. Vendailiains always talk too much and poke their noses in places where they aren’t wanted.”

                            “Oh,” replied Aaron. He thought a moment. “Yes, I supposed we often do,” he laughed.

                            The Ardentan didn’t even smile. “So, you want a place to stay?”

                            “Yes, that would be nice, if it’s convenient,” replied Aaron.

                            “It’s not,” the Ardentan said, bluntly. “In case you didn’t know, there’s a war. Housing strangers has never been convenient, but now it’s really not.”

                            “I can pay,” Aaron replied.

                            “With what?”

                            “Well, I have a little money, and I don’t mind work.”

                            “Come here,” commanded the Ardentan.

                            Aaron walked over and stood in front of him. The light of the setting sun had been blocked by the shadow of the barn, but now it shown full upon him. The Ardentan stiffened. He eyed Aaron up and down, taking in everything from his dirty boots to his blond hair. “Why do you dress like us?” he demanded.

                            “I thought it would be practical if I’m going to be living here for a while,” shrugged Aaron.

                            The boy’s eyebrows arched. “Living here?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes. “And why would you want to do that? Are you a spy for the empire?”

                            “What? No!” exclaimed Aaron.

                            “I’m not so sure,” snapped the other. He fingered the knife at his belt. “You look very much like one from the Empire.”

                            “I’m not Imperial, I’m Vendailian!” cried Aaron.

                            “Prove it.”

                            “What?”

                            “Prove that you aren’t an Imperial spy,” replied the Ardentan. His voice was dangerously low, and his hand had closed over his knife.

                            “What? I can’t! I don’t know how to prove it, but I’m not a spy!” exclaimed Aaron. He glanced behind toward the road, but he knew he couldn’t out run the young man. Aaron was exhausted, and the Ardentan’s legs were longer. Aaron looked back at his interrogator. This was not at all how he had envisioned this going. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face, suddenly feeling extremely tired. Father help me, I did not plan for it going like this. He looked up. “I came to help you.”

                            The Ardentan spat in the dirt.

                            “I’m not a spy.”

                            The Ardentan drew his knife and Aaron jerked back. The young man smirked and tossed the blade in the air, letting it spin before he caught it by the hilt. “You have yet to convince me.”

                            Aaron let out a breath of frustration.

                            “Better think quick, my patients is running out,” warned the Ardentan, still throwing and catching his knife.

                            Aaron thought through everything he knew about his country, everything in his pack, everything he knew about the Empire, but nothing seemed like it would help.

                            “Hurry up,” commanded the Ardentan.

                            “Be quiet and let me think,” retorted Aaron.

                            “Better hope you’re on good terms with your gods,” threatened the Ardentan.

                            “I don’t believe in gods,” replied Aaron, without thinking.

                            The Ardentan was about to toss his knife again but jerked his arm back when Aaron said that. “You what?”

                            “I said I don’t believe in gods,” replied Aaron.

                            The Ardentan crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, looking at Aaron with interest. “No one from the Empire would ever dare to say that. Not even if he was a spy.”

                            “Well, I’m not from the Empire,” replied Aaron.

                            The Ardenta seemed to be thinking about that for a moment. Then, he gave a sharp nod. “So, if you aren’t a spy of the Empire, why are you here?”

                            “I came to help you,” replied Aaron, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief.

                            “Did you bring an army?”

                            “No,” replied Aaron slowly. He was still stunned by the speed with which the Ardentan had changed his mind about Aaron being a spy.

                            “A secret new weapon? An amazing battle strategy? Are you someone who could tell the emperor to leave us be?”

                            “No––”

                            “Well then I don’t see how much help you’ll be,” concluded the Ardentan.

                            “I came to live, work, and fight beside you, and I came to bring you the truth,” said Aaron. “A truth that will set you free!”

                            “Let’s see how well you work first, then maybe we can discuss this ‘truth’ that you believe.”

                            “Alright,” agreed Aaron.

                            “Come inside and eat, then you can sleep in the barn. We’ll be up bright and early tomorrow,” said the Ardentan.

                            “Thank you,” replied Aaron.

                            The Ardentan did not respond.

                            “What is your name?” asked Aaron.

                            “Turin Alvarson,” said the Ardentan. He straightened, and Aaron realized Turin was more than six inches taller then he was.

                            Turin turned and walked toward the house. Aaron stood a few seconds, and then followed him. They came to the door and Turin pushed it open. Inside, the light was dim, for the sun was rapidly descending. A girl was bending over a fireplace, and when she turned, her eyes immediately fell on Aaron. Her smile vanished and her eyes narrowed, she looked at Turin and, though neither said a word, Aaron was sure something had passed between them.

                            Turin walked over to a basin and filled it with water from a pitcher. He splashed his face, hands and arms, then he took the basin and flung the water into the grass outside. He handed the clay vessel to Aaron. Aaron washed up and then poured the water outside and set the basin on the shelf where Turin had taken it from. Turin was standing beside the table looking at the girl, who was facing the fire. “Sabina, the stranger will be eating with us,” Turin said in an even tone.

                            Sabina looked at Turin, and then glared at Aaron. She looked back at Turin, clearly unhappy about the arrangement, but he gave her a slight nod and she whirled back to the fire. Aaron stood and watched her. Her dark brown hair was pulled into one long braid down her back, her dress was a light, almost pink, brown, and when she glanced over at him, he saw her eyes were dark like Turin’s.

                            Sabina carried the dishes to the table and Turin sat down. Aaron joined them, taking the seat across from Turin. Sabina took her place at Turin’s right, but refused to acknowledge Aaron.

                            Turin reached for one of the bowls on the table and tore a piece of bread off the loaf, he looked at Aaron, “Are you going to eat stranger?” he demanded.

                            Aaron had been staring at the table, deep in thought, but he looked up when Turin spoke. “My name is Aaron, and yes, I will eat. May I say a blessing for us first?”

                            “No,” replied Turin. “We have enough problems right now, we don’t need your strange religion to add to it.”

                            “It does not cause problems!” exclaimed Aaron. “And it is not a strange religion, it––”

                            Turin looked up sharply. “Hold you peace.”

                            Aaron shut his mouth, deciding not to push the matter that night. Maybe tomorrow, when they were more used to each other, he would try again. Tonight, he was tired and hungry, and he feared he might loose his temper if Turin disputed sharply. Instead, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. Father thank you for providing this meal. He prayed silently. When he looked up, he saw Turin was watching him, a strange look in his dark eyes.

                            When the meal was over, Sabina rose and began to clear the table. Turin turned to Aaron. “You may begin to earn your stay now, stranger.”

                            Aaron looked questioningly at him. Turin gestured to the table and then to the kitchen area. Aaron got to his feet and began to gather up the dishes. Turin watched him, half amused that he was doing ‘women’s work’ and half intrigued that he would do it without complaint.

                            Aaron carried the dishes to where Sabina was cleaning them. He put them in the wooden bucket of water and then stepped back, giving her a questioning look. Sabina got up from her knees by the bucket and walked to the other side of the room. Aaron crouched down and began scrubbing. As soon as the dishes were clean he looked about and, spotting like ones on a shelf, put them away.

                            Sabin handed him a broom and then set about scouring the large soup kettle with sand. Aaron swept up the floor and brushed all the dust outside. He came back to where Sabina was. Sabina looked at the floor and then picked up the kettle. She dumped the sand out of it onto the floor and then stood, daring Aaron with her eyes. Aaron was exasperated, but he bit his tongue and refrained from speaking his mind. Instead, he swept up the sand and then put the broom away. He spotted Sabina struggling to lift the huge iron kettle onto a shelf. Going to her side, Aaron took the kettle from her and lifted it up onto the shelf. Sabina turned her back on him and walked away.

                            Aaron turned to face Turin, who sat watching him, a puzzled expression on his face. Almost instantly, the expression vanished and he got to his feet. “This way, stranger.”

                            Aaron grabbed his pack from where he had left it by the door and followed. The two walked through the dark yard to the barn. Turin lit a lantern that hung on a hook in the doorway. He led the way to a ladder and gestured upward. Aaron began to climb, but Turin’s voice stopped him. “Stranger, if you dare to light a lantern in here you will pay dearly for it.” Aaron nodded, and Turin turned and walked out.

                            Aaron climbed to the top and slowly rose, feeling his way in the dark. His boots crackled on something and he bent to find course grass dried for feed. Aaron found a pile of it and sat down. He pulled off his boots and rolled out his shoulders, trying to relieve the soreness that ached in his whole body. He set down his pack and put his boots beside it. Then he prayed quietly in the dark. “Father, thank You for helping me on my journey and bringing me safely to Ardenta. Thank You for providing a place to sleep. Please help me to keep my temper. Replace my irritation with Your love. Please soften the hearts of Turin and Sabina, and help them to listen and come to know You. Give me strength for tomorrow. Please be with my father and Clorinda. Guide me in what I do and say tomorrow, and help me be patient.”

                            Aaron lay back in the hay and was soon fast asleep.

                            Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

                            #182418
                            TheShadow
                            @theshadow
                              • Rank: Knight in Shining Armor
                              • Total Posts: 305

                              @ellette-giselle

                              Just finished reading this section, and I do have two things to say about it. First, I think you used “questioning look” twice. Second, the cleaning scene was a little long. I think you could shorten it, I understand the purpose of it but it did feel long. Overall, though, this section was good.

                              "No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"

                              #182421
                              Ellette Giselle
                              @ellette-giselle
                                • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                                • Total Posts: 1072

                                @theshadow

                                 

                                Thank you for catching that!

                                 

                                Ok, yeah I’ll shorten it up a little.

                                 

                                What do you think of the characters so far? (Just out of curiosity.)

                                 

                                 

                                Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

                                #182423
                                Ellette Giselle
                                @ellette-giselle
                                  • Rank: Eccentric Mentor
                                  • Total Posts: 1072

                                  @theshadow Here’s the next part.

                                   

                                  Aaron woke to Turin’s boot nudging him. “Up stranger, it’s morning.”

                                  Aaron rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly. “You can call me Aaron.”

                                  “I’ll call you what I like,” replied Turin. “Now get up.”

                                  Aaron began pulling on his boots, and Turin watched him until he was satisfied Aaron was really getting up. Then, he turned and climbed down the ladder. Aaron got to his feet and dusted the hay out of his hair and off his clothes. Then, he scrambled down the ladder and stepped outside. The colors of sunrise were just beginning to touch the horizon and Aaron paused to look. “Thank You Father for this beautiful morning. Give me strength to face the day,”

                                  Turin was already at the table, and Aaron joined him as Sabina laid out the breakfast. In the morning light, Aaron could see her better, and he realized she was no older then sixteen. She must be Turin’s sister. She had the same face shape, the same mouth and eyes, and the same frown as Turin. When Sabina sat down, Aaron spoke. “May I say a blessing?”

                                  “No,” replied Turin, and his tone left no room for augment.

                                  Aaron decided to push no further at the moment and he settled with a silent prayer of his own before eating. As soon as the meal was over, Turin rose and motioned for Aaron to follow him. The two walked outside and Turin spoke. “Today we work in the fields.” He eyed Aaron smugly. “You may like to dress like us, but lets see if you can work half as well.”

                                  Aaron smiled. “I’m up to the challenge.”

                                  Turin snorted. “Today we hoe and clear a field for planting,” he said abruptly. He grabbed a hoe from the barn and tossed it to Aaron, then he took one for himself and walked out to a field. “I cleared the large rocks, but all of the small rocks and stones need to come out, and the soil must be turned,” Turin said. He turned and got to work. Aaron came beside him and the two hoed in silence for about ten minutes. Aaron paused and looked up at the sunrise. He suddenly had an idea. “Turin, who made the sun?”

                                  “What do I care,” replied Turin.

                                  “Well, do you know?” persisted Aaron.

                                  “I suppose you think you do,” growled Turin.

                                  “It was God.”

                                  “Uh-hu, every country thinks it was their gods who did everything. Well, we don’t have gods here, because gods aren’t real. So, which god do you think made the sun.”

                                  “I don’t think, I know,” began Aaron, but he stopped short. “Wait, did you say gods aren’t real?”

                                  “Yeah, does that offend you?” asked Turin, and his tone clearly said he didn’t care if it did.

                                  “No, not at all,” replied Aaron. “Tell me, why aren’t gods real?”

                                  “Every kingdom has their own that they all worship and expect to do things for them. I’m just a farmer, but I never saw stone, marble, or wood do anything miraculous for me, and it certainly doesn’t listen. Besides, how can something they made be the thing that made them and their world? If there were gods at all, it would be the craftsmen, not the things they make. Besides, there are too many of them. There are so many gods for each kingdom to keep track of, and no two kingdoms really serve the same ones. If the gods were real and were powerful, then I think they would fight with each other until one supreme god won and then he would be god of the whole world––” Turin broke off in irritation, realizing Aaron had gotten him to engage in conversation. “There are plenty of other reasons, but I don’t have to explain them to you.”

                                  “I agree with you completely,” said Aaron. “But, you are wrong about one thing, there is a God. one God, and only one God.”

                                  Turin paused a moment and looked at Aaron. “I’ve never heard that before.”

                                  “In the beginning, there was absolutely nothing,” began Aaron. “But God was there, and He spoke the world into existence, He created the first man and woman, and He gave them a beautiful garden to live in. But, He told them never to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Now, God had many angles who worshiped and served Him, doing as He commanded. But one angle did not want to do this, he wanted to be God. He led away a third of the angles and they rebelled. God cast them out of heaven. Satan, wanting to do all to destroy what God had made, went to the woman and deceived her, telling her to eat of the tree. He told her that if she did, she would be like God. She believed him and ate the fruit, giving some also to her husband.

                                  “Because of this sin, God cast them from the garden, forever apart from Him. They were separated from God, who, though He loved them deeply, could not be in the presence of sin. But, God promised to send a Savior to defeat Satan and all his demons and return us to the presence of God. Many years passed, and everyone was born in sin, and none lived a perfect life. No Savior came, and things got darker.

                                  “Many, many years passed, and prophets who heeded God’s voice spoke of a promised child; a King to deliver them. The world turned further and further away from God, and began to worship things made with their hands, or the earth God had made. They sinned and ran from the One who created and loved them. Then, when things seemed darkest, God sent His only Son into the world, Jesus Christ. Jesus lived a perfect life, calling men to follow Him. He was God, yet He became man, suffering as we do, being tempted as we are, yet still He was God. Fully God, and fully man. I do not wholly understand the mystery of this, but I know it to be true. The religious leaders of that day hated Jesus, for He brought to light the falsehoods of their rituals and practices, and their sins. Jesus continued to teach, and He healed many and even brought the dead back to life. He never once sinned, in thought word or deed. He was perfect, blameless, and pure. Yet, He came to save us, and the only way to save us was through sacrifice. The religious leaders took him prisoner and handed him over to the Romans. They lied about Him, and the Romans killed Him.”

                                  Turin stopped short and looked at Aaron, his hoe mid-strike. “What?”

                                  “They killed Him,” repeated Aaron. “But, this was the reason He had come. He came to die for us. The only way we could come back to God was if an innocent person took our punishment and died in our stead. The punishment of sin, all sin, no matter how big or small, is death. Christ died for us, but He conquered the grave. Three days after His death, He rose and came back to life, appearing to many. Then, He returned to heaven, charging His followers to spread the truth everywhere, and promising them a helper. That helper is His Spirit, who dwells in all those who truly believe. If we confess to God that we are sinners, ask for His forgiveness, and accept Christ as our Savior and King, then we will be saved.

                                  “I did this when I was about twelve years old. It took me a long time to let myself believe and trust, but when I did, my whole life changed. I am a new creation with Christ as the Lord of my life. He is with me always, protecting me and guiding me, giving me His strength to replace my weakness. ‘The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Savior.’ This means that even if I die here on earth, I will live forever with Christ in heaven in the place He has prepared for me.” Aaron paused and leaned on his hoe. “Last week I was living a normal life, studying for an honored position in the king’s court. But, God had something different planned for me. He called me to come here, to you and all the rest of the people of Ardenta, to bring you this truth and this hope. That is why I am here. It was for this reason that I left everything and came to you.”

                                  Turin paused also. “Is your God the one who makes you act the strange way you do?”

                                  “What do you mean by strange?” asked Aaron.

                                  “Last night, when I told you to do women’s work, you were not angry, and you did not argue. And when my sister poured sand on the floor after you had swept it, you did not slap her–– which is what she deserved–– but instead, you quietly cleaned it up and then helped her with the kettle. Do you act this way because of your God?”

                                  “Yes, it is because of God,” Aaron said.

                                  “Does He make it so you do not care what people do?” asked Turin.

                                  “Oh no,” replied Aaron. “Believe me, I did feel like getting angry at your sister, or at least saying something unkind to her. But, God wants us to bless those who curse us; pray for those who mistreat us, and to repay evil with good. So, I asked Him for patients and He gave it to me. He always helps those who call upon Him.”

                                  Turin seemed lost in thought for a long moment, then he turned. “There is work to be done stranger,” he said, but there was no edge to his tone.

                                  Aaron nodded and continued hoeing. God, please use what I have spoken to bring Turin to the truth.

                                  ***

                                  Five long days passed. Aaron continued to work side by side with Turin, slowly but surly gaining the young man’s trust. Sabina seemed absolutely determined not to like him, but was warming up a little. He still refused to call Aaron by his name, but he refrained from insults and harassing. Sometimes, Turin would talk to Aaron about Ardenta, the farm, or the village near by, but then he would stop and act like Aaron had tricked him into talking. He would shut up for the rest of the day and refuse to say a word. Aaron heard nothing about the on-going war, and though he wondered very much about it, he was hesitant to approach the subject. Sometimes, Aaron wondered if it was the right thing to stay with Turin and his sister, or if he should move on. Something in him couldn’t just leave Turin and Sabina. Not yet. Constant in prayer, Aaron felt the urge to stay a little longer.

                                  Then came the day when Turin went to the village. The three finished breakfast, and Aaron and Turin headed out to the barn as usual. Turn went over to one of the barrels and lifted the lid. He scooped out seeds into a satchel and handed it to Aaron. “Plant these, and don’t spill a single seed.”

                                  Aaron nodded and slipped the strap over his head. He looked up and was barely in time to catch the hoe Turin tossed at him.

                                  They stepped outside, and Turin walked to the house. Aaron waited for him, wondering what Turin was doing. When Turin came back, he had a pack on his back. He turned and started toward the road. “Turin, wait!” called Aaron.

                                  Turin paused and Aaron caught up. “Where are you going?”

                                  “To the village,” replied Turin.

                                  “Let me come with you.”

                                  “No.”

                                  “Why?” demanded Aaron.

                                  “Because I said so,” snapped back Turin.

                                  Aaron leaned his hoe against the fence and began to pull off the seed bag.

                                  Turin threw up his hands. “Well fine, do what you want, but don’t blame me when they kill you for a spy.”

                                  “I’m not a spy,” retorted Aaron.

                                  “Yeah, well tell that to them. Oh wait, you won’t be able to, because you’ll have an arrow in you the minute you come in sight of the village.”

                                  Aaron hesitated. He desperately wanted to reach the rest of the Ardentans. And, truth be told, he was lonely. Turin and Sabina hardly spoke to him, and Aaron missed the friends he had left behind. He wanted to hang out with someone besides moody Turin for a change. Still, if the villagers were anything like Turin, he may not survive a meeting with them.

                                  Turin picked up the hoe and pushed it at Aaron. “Take this and go plant. I’ll be back.”

                                  Aaron took the hoe, and Turin turned and walked down the road. With a sigh, Aaron walked toward the field and the long day of work.

                                  Riker dropped his voice to a soft whisper. “…I’m home.”

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