First chapter of Erimos

[Kylie]

Here’s the first chapter I wrote for my new sci-fi book, Erimos. If y’all have suggestions, I would love to hear them.

 

 

Chapter 1

“Akan!” An ear piercing scream split across the fields, flushing a dozen Kindrefre in the process. Akantha snapped her head back in the direction of the scream, her heart caught in her throat.
Lorcan. Her legs took off before her body knew to keep up. Swooping low, she grasped a barkless stick about two inches in diameter, a staff worthy to knock someone’s teeth out. Or worse if they hurt her little brother.
Akantha reached the middle of the field, eyes searching. Winged locusts hovered over a cluster of white daisies, their wings shimmering like coins in the sun. Akantha tightened the grip she held on the staff. A gentle breeze blew across the tall, golden stalks of wheat. She shivered. It wasn’t cold, but the breeze dried the sweat on her neck and made her cool. Or so she told herself.
“Lorcan!?”
Mentally running through the list of possible dangers, Akantha’s heart raced. A pack of Jack Rabbyits, Bardenum, or even a gang of Bicru. Oh come on. Keep your cool, Akan. Cool it.
A sound to her left perked her attention; rustling in the thorny bushes growing louder. Akantha planted her feet firmly on the ground like she had seen the gladiator fighters do before a brawl, mimicking one of their moves by twisting the staff in circular motions.
Suddenly, a tiny mass of body flung itself from the grain, tackling Akantha square in the chest, knocking her off her feet and onto the hard sod. Umph! Akantha grappled her staff and pushed the creature clawing at her face back with all her might. Scrambling to her feet, she executed a perfect full roundhouse kick, to which her opponent ducked and returned with a strike to her upper jaw. His fist collided with her flesh; crimson liquid trickling down her lip. Licking the metallic tasting blood from her chin, Akantha grunted.
“Not fair!” She shouted, but the small human only continued throwing punches in her direction. Blocking and dodging, she saw from her peripheral vision what her attacker had planned. In the middle of the four quadrant fields, a large Balsalk tree grew, shading a good portion of the crops and providing shelter from the scorching sun. Her opponent was planning to back her up helplessly against the tree.
I’ll show him.
Letting her attacker back her up, Akantha felt around the gnarled trunk with her calloused hands, grateful for the grip the bark gave.
“Surrender now peacefully and I will let you live. Or fight back,” Her opponent paused, kicking a foot up to knock Akantha’s staff out of her hand. He grabbed it with his left hand and pointed the butt end of it at her neck. “And I kill you. Your choice.”
Akantha closed her eyes, feeling the tickle of her hair in her ear, “I think that’s where you are mistaken.” She said calmly. Then, grabbing the rough bark with her bare hands, she flung herself up backwards against the base of the tree and leaped into a full front flip over the head of her adversary. Landing softly, she quickly wrangled his arms from behind, shoving him forward so his right cheek brushed with bark.
“I’m a little better than you anticipated, huh?” Akantha puffed her chest, loosening the hold she had slightly.
“Alright, I admit it, Akan. You are a bit better than me.”
Akantha raised a brow, “A bit? Did you see what I just did? Lorcan, I think you’ve gotten a bit thick headed over your fighting skills. I did that with my bare hands. Bare hands!” Akantha released Lorcan’s arms and spun him around to face her.
Seeing his eyes, Akantha’s heart pinched. With his shoulder length dark hair, sharp nose, full lips, and emerald green eyes, Lorcan had the appearance of their mother; who had died not three months earlier from the scarcity of food. The rations had been severely cut down during the year, leaving her mother’s beautiful slim body to rot away to nothing but skin and bones. Slaves didn’t get the fantasy of proper medical assistance, so she had died hungry and sick.
Please forgive me, dear Mum…Akantha still blamed herself for not giving up her own food rations to feed her mother. Maybe then she would have lived. Not likely. But there was that regret. Pit-seething regret that mocked her everywhere she went.
Now staring at her brother who was only three years younger then her yet just as strong, she remembered the oath she swore to keep. To justify the death of her mother. Even if it meant the death of her own life to do it.
Akantha herself resembled more of her father than her mother. Her long, blond hair was tucked under a knotted cloak, pulled back into a ponytail showing a strong, smooth jawline to her right ear. A burn marked her left cheek, the shape of a wolf’s tail wrapped around a silver crown. The branding of every slave. A scar people stared at, shuddering at the hideousness of it. Akantha thought it made her look more fearsome than ugly. Her fine tuned muscles rippled up her arms, glistening with sweat. The sides of her sleeveless tunic was stained with bits of dried blood and grime. She wore gray, patched trousers that dropped just below her knees. Those too were stained with dirt. Clothing was scarce to come by in the slave markets, and even if you did find something worth its weight in looks, you couldn’t afford it. Things were too pricey. Because of the Upper Class and their taxation. It wasn’t fair, but there wasn’t anything to do about it.
Akantha leaned forward and rubbed a smudge of dirt from her brother’s right cheek tenderly.
“Maybe next time just ask me to duel with you rather than scream halfway across the fields? You might attract a herd of blood thirsty Visha. Then you would be in real trouble.”
Lorcan scoffed, “You’re right but if I had asked you would have just told me to get back to work. I think the screaming technique really got you that time.”
“You’re right too. I would have told you to get back to work, in fact, I advise we do that now before a Task Master comes around and whips us both for slacking behavior.”
Lorcan crossed his arms over his chest, kicking dust with his big toe, “I don’t want to get back to work.”
Akantha rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, Lor. We have to. It’s the law. Besides, think of poor Papa. He’s working double time to replace Mum and he takes overtime hours too. The best we can do is be a good example and pick up some of the weight off his shoulders.”
“But it isn’t fair, Akan! Just because we can’t afford to live like the Upper Class does, doesn’t mean they get to boss us around and tell me what to do with my time! It’s not fair. And I’m sick and tired of putting up with it.”
Akantha sighed. Lorcan had the same rebellious spirit as she did. Only problem was he was a hormonal twelve year old who couldn’t bite his own tongue and mind his peace. It took her years to reign in her recklessness; Lorcan however wasn’t her. If he couldn’t learn to control his emotions, something bad was going to happen. She could feel it in her bones.
Kneeling down, she picked up a smooth, round stone from the ground. Prying Lorcan’s fingers apart, she placed the rock in his palm and closed his fingers back over it.
Lorcan grinned, “You’re letting me hurdle a stone at the Task Master?”
Akantha frowned, “No. This is to teach you an object lesson. Like that stone, you are stuck here. Unfortunately it is one of the worst places you could ever be in, but nevertheless, you are stuck here. And until someone comes along and picks you up, like I did to that stone, you are to be silent. Silent as a stone.”
Lorcan cocked his head sideways, “Did anyone tell you how horrible you are at inspirational speeches?”
Akantha felt her cheek muscles tighten, “Just promise me you’ll bridle that unruly tongue of yours. Papa can only do so much. We have to behave.”
“Okay.”
Akantha let out a short breath, “I have to get back to my station before the Task Master realizes I’m not there. Please, do the same, Lor. And stay clear of trouble.”
Lorcan nodded, “I got it, sis’.”
Akantha reached out and rustled his hair, “I’ll see you at break time, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too, sis’.”
Akantha spun on her heels, slowly walking away. Begging, praying, pleading that Lorcan could find a way to be quiet and do nothing out of the ordinary.

lost but not alone

[Power]

@livingwoodchronicles

I enjoyed a good sci-fi novel, and you have piqued my interest with the Jack Rabbyits. Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for more of this story down the line. 🙂

I do have a question and a suggestion.

1.  Why did you decide to have the two siblings fight each other at the very beginning of you story?
2. Perhaps do a little more research into martial situations/repercussions (Ex. What a hit to the chin with a bare hand does to both the giver and the receiver.) 😉

You will love what you spend time with.

[Whaley]

Subscribing to this topic!! Very interesting, will comment further later 😉

KaPeefers 'til we're old and gray...

[Author]

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