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Hi everyone! I am writing a novel and would like some help with it. Here is the first chapter/prologue. It is supposed to be an allegory, so if you get Garden of Eden vibes, that’s why!
@jonas @esther-c @kydonandwillowIf you guys like it and want to see the next chapter, let me know!
Prologue: Elysium
Many years ago, peace reigned on Andromeda, Earth, and all the worlds created by the Great One.
The Great One had created a beautiful paradise between the worlds, called Elysium. It was a beautiful land-children laughing, birds singing, trees swaying, brooks babbling under a peachy sky. In Elysium, there was no death, no sickness, no pain, only joy. Pythonos at that time loved the Great One and served Him with all their hearts.
Elysium was perfect.
The Great One created the seven races to live in harmony together and serve Him.
There were Azers, strong willed and with a passion as extreme as the fire that could explode from their hands at a moments notice. They appeared human, save for their bergundy skin, orange hair and yellow eyes.
Next were Aquinos, proud of their abilities to control water. They had iridescent turquoise hair that seemed to shimmer like the surface of the ocean and captivating blue eyes to match their sky blue skin. They were a kind and friendly people.
Estrellos collected their power from the stars. They could bend light and use it to light up the darkness like a beacon. Their dark skin and hair matched the dark of night, but their violet eyes were beautiful. The Great One had given them the best gift of all: wisdom.
Pitts were trusting and gracious. They could communicate with the trees, and their powers allowed them to move stone and earth.
Paynes had no powers. They were half breeds between humans and Andromedans. Some were disfigured, but they were each beautiful in their own way.
And then the Pythonos. Introverted cliff dwellers that they were, they did serve the Great One. They normally wore all black and their eyes were green and their skin was pale.
And then there were humans. They had no powers, but they had great skill in critical thinking and problem solving and were intelligent like all the other races.
Andromedans and humans alike could freely go between their own world and Elysium, however a human could never enter Andromeda, nor could an Andromedan enter Earth.
The Great One raised up two great rulers-a gracious Pitt called Berko and his wife Rishona. The Great One provided them with vast resources and a beautiful castle so large it seemed as if it was straight out of a fairy tale. He blessed them with many children, and great wisdom. The Great One promised them long lives full of happiness and laughter as long as they never attempted to cross over into other worlds. If they did, He assured them, then Elysium would crumble.
The couple gave Him their word, promising Him that they would never dream of such a thing.
It was a promise they could not keep.
One fateful day, Rishona was strolling about the castle grounds, marveling at the beauty of the sunrise, when a strange cloaked figure leapt in front of her. She jumped back in fright, but the figure placed a hand on her arm and removed his hood, revealing a young man about six feet tall with black hair and amber eyes.
“Don’t be afraid, my dear.” Rishona blinked.
“Who-who are you?” she asked dumbly. “How did you get in here?”
“There’s always a way,” his caramel brown eyes glittered mysteriously.
“How so?” Rishona raised an eyebrow and glowered at the man before him.
“Magick,” he whispered in her ear.
“What is magick?” She tested out the foreign world, mulling it over in her mind.
“Ahh, yes, I suppose you wouldn’t know,” he said airily. Rishona bristled at his mocking tone. Her stomach clenched, and her blood boiled hot in her veins, her heart beating faster and faster. What was this emotion, she wondered. She had never felt this way before. Never before could she recall such tension. This was Anger, though she did not know it at the time.
“I am your queen!” she snapped. “Have you no respect?” The man smirked,tilting up a corner of his mouth into an expression that was most annoying, reddening Rishona’s tan complexion.
“Rishona, you are not my queen.”
“I-How-You-” she choked. “How dare you!” she cried, and pulled back her hand to slap him. Shocked, she let her hand fall back down limply at her side. What is wrong with you? She wondered. She had never ever wanted to slap another person, what had changed? Another feeling stirred in Rishona’s heart. It made her want to run, to cry. The hands of fear seized her heart, another emotion she had never felt. She did not like it one bit.
“You need to leave,” she said forcefully.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he waggled his skinny finger in front of her nose. “You’re not my queen!” Rishona let out a growl of frustration. She pulled back her hand again-she was going to slap him, this time she was really going to do it, and now she was swinging, she wanted to hurt him, give him a red mark on his pale flawless skin-or perhaps a bruise-
“Scisto!” The intruder flung something dark at her arm as the words came from his lips, and he held his hand out as if pointing at her elbow. Rishona’s hand stopped mid swing. Try as she might, she could not move her hand. It was stuck, held by some invisible force.
“What have you done to me?” she sputtered. Anger was back.
“Magick,” he said again, smirking. Seeing the rage in Rishona’s eyes, he hastily added, “It is the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces,” he recited.
“Oh, I see,” Rishona said bitterly. Was that sarcasm? Rishona had never said anything of the sort before. Who was this stranger that made her feel things that she did not want to feel? “Well, you may take your ‘magic’ and take it out of Elysium!” she put her hands on her hips defiantly.
“You are-”
“Not my queen,” Rishona rolled her eyes. “But I don’t care! As queen of Elysium, I order you to leave this castle!”
“Ohhh,” the stranger’s voice was dangerously low, silky smooth and airy like a predator sneaking up on its prey. Rishona took a small apprehensive step backwards. “But I can help you, Rishona. I can make you powerful, my dear. The most powerful woman in all of this universe. And all you have to do is listen to me.”
Rishona didn’t know what came over her at that moment. All she could hear was the word power. It consumed her, took over her mind. An evil beast awakened inside of her.
“What do I have to do?”
“Good,” the voice became even more like a snake’s. “Did you hear that? She’sss in.” And he began to laugh.
Rishona pulled her hood over her light green hair. The chilling wind tugged at her cloak. Funny, she didn’t remember the weather being this cold before. The stranger had told her to follow him; it wouldn’t be long. Apparently his idea of a short distance was over three miles. They had been walking for a while now, and the more they walked, the more the air decreased in temperature.
“How-How much longer?” she forced the words out between her lips, quivering from the cold.
“We are here,” the stranger stopped walking. Where is “here”? Rishona looked around. She did not recognize this area of Elysium. Here there were stones and sculptures protruding up from the ground, depicting dark and gruesome scenes that Rishona could not bear to look at. “Do you want to be powerful, Rishona?” Rishona nodded. “Do you? Then the answer liesss here-” He gestured to an ominous stone table. “-with magick. With a little magick, a new portal can be opened to the other worldsss. You can rule over them. Join me, and we will rule them together. Our names will be feared and on the tongue of every man, woman, and child. The choice is yoursss-ssserve the Great One, or be ssserved by the universsse.” Rishona cocked her head to the side. What exactly was this stranger asking? Go to another world, which the Great One had strictly forbidden?
“We’re not supposed to do that,” she balked. “I should leave,” she wrung her hands anxiously.
“Did the Great One really sssay you couldn’t even go to the other worldsss?” he scoffed, sidling up beside Rishona. “Doesssn’t He want you to be happy? Doesssn’t He want you to be free, to be able to explore more than this Elysssium you are ssso fond of?”
“I don’t know!” Rishona’s mind was reeling. What could be wrong with going to another world and ruling it? Wouldn’t the Great One want her to be happy? Would it be so terrible to just see what Earth looked like?
“You know you want to,” he taunted her. “You would be ssso powerful,” he reminded her.
“Powerful.” Rishona repeated, her eyes glittering with greed.
“Yesss,” the man smiled.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Rishona pondered the choice in her mind. “What does this ‘magick’ entail?”
“I knew you would choossse wisely, Rishona,” he nodded his approval. His eyes seemed to glow green. “Go over to the table,” he instructed her, “and say these words: mal de immunosss calumagan. These words will cast the magick, but it can only be activated by a drop of blood given willingly. Ussse the knife to cut your wrissst ssslightly , letting the drop fall onto the table. Thisss will open the portal, and you will begin the rule of the worldsss.”
Rishona slowly walked over to the stone table with determination. The closer she walked, the more hairs stood up on end, the more that fear clawed at her chest. Before she lost her nerve, she plunged forward and leaned on the table. This is to help Elysium, she told herself. You will be powerful.
“Mal de immunos calumangan!” she breathed.
In one deft motion, she gripped the old knife in her right hand until her knuckles paled, and then slit her wrist. Green Pitt blood trickled down her green skin onto the stone. She winced, clutching her wrist to slow the bleeding.
There was a great shuddering and quaking of the stone as the green liquid hit the table, and then some dark energy sparked and crackled around the table. Rishona jumped back.
“What is happening?” she glanced at the stranger.
“Magick,” he said, “you have ussssed Magick to open the portal.” he grinned.
The portal churned, spun, glittered with the promise of power, the promise of control.
“Now what?” Rishona caught her breath as she stared at the mass of black, dark light before her eyes.
“Walk through…and power will be yoursss.” There was that word again, a word Rishona somehow could not resist. Power. Rishona stepped onto the table, took a deep breath, and stepped through.
Had she looked back at the last second, she would have seen the stranger morph into a terrifyingly gruesome beast. He tilted his head to the sky and let out a roar.
“Now, once again, evil reignsss,” he whispered. “We have won… for now,” he smirked.
Elysium fell.
Evil crumbled apart the paradise, destroying it completely. Terror reigned, evil ruled, and anger drove many to steal, kill, and destroy all that was good.
Rishona and Berko both perished at the hands of the Stranger as he wreaked havoc on the two worlds.
And with no Elysium, the people were abruptly thrown back into their original worlds, be it Andromeda or Earth. The trauma was enough to make a grown man mad for the remainder of his life.
The Great One saw the pain and agony that his paradise had turned into, twisted by the Stranger, and so he made a promise. The torture would not last forever, He promised them. He would send someone to help them.
Soon.
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Wowww!! This is great!! I’d love to read the next chapter 🙂
Any noun can become a verb if you don't care enough.
@savannah_grace2009
This is really cool! Even though it’s a very close allegory of Genesis 3, it feels really unique.🏰 Fantasy Writer
✨ Magic System Creator
🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of Booksthanks @jonas and @highscribeofaetherium ! It’s always so encouraging when you get positive feedback. Thank you so much for reading it! This next chapter seems to be a different story, but the prologue just explains the story behind how evil took over Andromeda. So don’t let the change of scene and new characters confuse you!
Here’s the next chapter:
Chapter 1: Pythonos
It was a cold and still night in the city of Lir. Clouds were moving in quickly from the west, casting shadows upon the eerily quiet street.
Every Andomedan was in bed, sound asleep with his head on his pillow, and unaware that tonight would be the first in a series of nights that would change their world…and most definitely not for the better.
Not even an insect dared break the silence. The world was watching, waiting…
A twig snapped.
The twin moons were bright behind the clouds, shining on two dark figures navigating the streets.
The taller of the two carried a limp bundle in his arms; the other walked quickly at his side. They wore long cloaks, and hoods hid their faces. From within the hoods, two green orbs glowed that were unmistakably eyes. After every step, their cloak swept the ground, alerting anyone who was listening of their presence.
A horrible stench trailed behind the two, following wherever they went. It could have been rotting meat, or maybe the smell of mud, or even the smell of death. But it was something much, much worse than all of these possibilities, if you can imagine something so repulsive as this. It was the scent of pure evil, the scent of the Pythonos.
As they passed, the vermin scrambled to get away, each finding his hole and disappearing at once, desperate to hide from the horrible smell, but the smell seemed to follow them down their hole and torment them further. Every bird stretched out her wings to cover her young, protecting them, and trembling in fear. The dogs stirred in their cages and shuddered.
Still, the stench affected the unconscious as well.
In their sleep, the young children began to toss and turn, and even the grown-ups began to have nightmares. The sirens, miles under the sea smelled it as well, and hid behind the coral, clutching their tails to their chest and whimpering out in fear.
And still the Pythonos kept on, seeming to travel with the wind for some unknown evil intent.
But wait-suddenly they turned sharply to the right and began walking up the sidewalk to a house on the street. One could only pray for that house, which was surely cursed. The taller knocked on the door slowly, first once….twice…then a pause. Finally, the last knock resounded throughout the neighborhood, yet still there was no movement in the house. And no wonder, considering what nightmare the inhabitants surely knew by now was awaiting outside their front door.
For a moment, the taller draped his arm around his companion’s shoulder, as if he were comforting her, but then they drew apart. The other raised her fist to knock once more, but before fist met wood, a light flashed on inside the house. The two waited in an overwhelming silence.
The wind shifted suddenly and began to blow towards the south and carrying the scent, towards the building where the council of The Order lay asleep in their beds…all but one, Linnaeus the Pitt. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, and he knew at once that there was a Pythonos in Lir.
Meanwhile, the two on the porch waited for the door to be answered. Shadows moved behind the drapes, and the horrible smell worsened, seeming to become stronger by the minute. Miles across town, Linnaeus retched and almost vomited after taking in a greedy sniff of the air.
Now the lock clicked and the door slowly swung open. The face of a tired woman was revealed. She wore a nightgown and her feet were bare. Her violet eyes marked her as an Estrello. She blinked rapidly as if adjusting to the darkness. Suddenly she let out a small shriek and her hands flew to her mouth, perhaps from fright, or perhaps she had smelled the stench and had gagged. Neither assumption was irrational.
“Good heavens, it’s a Pythonos!” she recoiled in fear. “Two of them!” she screeched, moving her hand from her mouth to her nose, where she proceeded to pinch her nostrils to avoid breathing in the putrid air.
“We are well aware what we are,” the taller spoke. His gravely voice gave the Estrello goosebumps…or maybe it was the sudden chill in the night air…. “but we need to ssspeak with the doctor. Now.” His voice hissed like a snake and was sharp and dangerous like broken glass. His partner reached inside her cloak and slid out a knife. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a pistol, it was that she proffered to use a knife. There was something about feeling blood slide down your neck and the pressure of a sharp edge against your windpipe that made her victims crack every time. She held it up against the moonlight for effect. The crooked, black blade wrought of nothing but evil glinted in the moonlight, and she leapt like a cat, pressing the blade to the terrified Estrello’s throat.
“Do as he saysss,” she hissed threateningly.
“Just go away!” The woman choked out, “though that won’t make a difference, he’s probably already cursed this place,” she muttered under her breath.
“Now!” she pressed the knife harder against the victim’s neck until a trickle of violet Estrello blood slid down her neck.
“Al-Alright,” she croaked, reaching for the door handle. The taller one nodded, and the other swiftly removed the blade.
“Good.”
“Thank you, Ssselena,” the taller smiled a twisted grin at the woman-if you could call her that- at his side.
The Estrello quickly opened the door, quickly stepped inside and began to close it, but Selena was quicker. She grabbed the Estrello’s wrist and pulled her outside, grabbing her neck in a vice that was incredibly strong for a woman of her size.“No more tricksss,” she warned, dropping the panicked woman to the ground.
“Just please, I beg of you, leave us!” she cried, tears sliding down her face as she curled into a fetal position on the ground.
“What is all of this commotion?” A sharp voice resounded through the night air as the doctor Kratos hurried to the door, clad in nightcap and nightgown.
At that moment, the hood hiding the one of the Pythonos’ identity fell away. The Estrello scrambled to her feet and hid behind her husband timidly. “I’m afraid you’ve upset my wife greatly. Please leave,” he glared at the couple. “Oh. It’s you.” the voice, now tinged with recognition was full of disdain and something else…pure hatred. “Jordan, Selena,” he nodded at them. He kept his face steady, angry, and calm, but just then, his chin quivered for a split second. “What do you want?”
“Our ssson is very ill,” Jordan hissed, but his voice seemed to become softer. He removed the blanket to reveal a small child in his arms. “You will help usss,” Jordan said, “and perhapsss we will not curssse you after all.” Kratos sighed, holding out his arms and taking the child gingerly as if he wanted to touch him as little as possible. The boy stirred and whimpered. His face was ashen, and droplets of sweat adorned his brow. He coughed and then went still. Selena chewed her lip and wrung her hands behind her back.
“Go back inside,” Kratos instructed his wife. She obediently went back into the house, not spending a second more outside. Turning to the couple before him, he began firing questions at them. “Has he been refusing to eat? Has he been fussy? Has his eyes been changing colors?”
“Yesss,” Said Selena. Her face was tense, and her eyes became worried.
Kratos sighed dramatically, shaking his head and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And did his symptoms disappear for about three days?” Jordan nodded.
“And then they came back, twice as worssse,” Selena finished gravely. Kratos frowned.
“I’m afraid your son has the illness known as Dierdre’s Curse. It is a genetic mutation which occurs in the Pythonos branch.” He was obviously attempting to sound as apologetic as possible, however the expression on his face made it clear he was anything but sorry. He paused and licked his lips like a lion waiting to pounce. He delivered the final blow:“I cannot give you any cure. Your son will not survive the night, I’m afraid. Good night.” He gently handed the trembling boy to Selena and shrugged, beginning to close the door.
“No!” Selena wailed, clutching her son to her chest. Jordan’s green eyes flashed in anger.
“I will curssse your home, your family, and you and your wife if you do not give usss the cure!” he growled. Kratos froze. Then the door swung open again.
“There is a cure.” he seemed hesitant, regretful.
“Then give it to me!” Jordan screamed, lunging at Kratos, blade in hand.
“I cannot give it to you!” Kratos protested, throwing up his hands in a surrender and squirming away from Jordan and narrowing his eyes until they were slits. “I am forbidden to serve the Pythonos here.”
“Curssse you, Kratosss!” Selena spat on the ground. Kratos raised an eyebrow.
“Now is not the time for violence, Selena, unless you wish the Order to take care of both of you!” Kratos slithered inside like the snake he was and slammed the door, leaving the two on the front steps.
Selena firmly wrapped the blanket around the child so he would be comfortable in his last hours. Or at least, as comfortable as he could be with a disease so horrible as Dierdre’s Curse. She set her face forward. She would not cry. A Pythonos did not cry, or feel. They knew only evil.
And with nowhere to go, and devoid of hope, Jordan put his arm around Selena and they began the trek back into the Farnbron Mountains, the home of the cursed race of the Pythonos.
And when the sun rose, the sound of weeping bled across the mountains as the couple mourned the loss of their first born son.
By the time the sun set the next day, both Kratos and his wife were found dead.
Jordan and Selena were never found.
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Second Chapter: A Swift Death
Azuri screamed in agony as she pressed a hand against her round stomach.
“Nathan,” she rasped, reaching for her husband’s hand. “The baby!” Her face twisted in agony and she fell back against the pillows which were now damp with her sweat, exhausted.
Nathan squeezed Azuri’s sweaty hand, willing himself to stay calm. He tried not to notice that Azuri didn’t squeeze back.
His eyes were wide and terrified. He didn’t know anything about birth-what was he supposed to do? He tried to ignore how Azuri’s eyes glistened with tears that refused to fall, how every breath was ragged and weak, and how long she had been in labor.
“Sit up, please,” he begged her.
“I can’t-” Azuri began, cut off by a scream that wrenched Nathan’s heart in two.
“Listen,” Nathan took both her hands in his and made her look at him. “We are going to get through this together.” His voice shook, and he bit his lip. He wished he could ensure those words to be true. He was powerless, he remembered. That was the worst part. He could not change a thing. “You’re not alone, I’m right here.” That he could promise. He would not leave his wife. She nodded, her eyes frightened and worried like a deer’s. He brushed her sweat-soaked hair away from her face.
“I don’t know if I can-” she gasped.
“Yes, you can,” Nathan reassured her. Azuri’s nails dug into Nathan’s palm as she failed to stifle a scream.
“It’s happening!” she wailed. There was one last scream, one last contraction, and then it was all over. Before Nathan knew what was happening, he was holding his newborn son in his arms. The baby screamed for all he was worth, startling Nathan. Tears fell that he didn’t know he was holding in. That cry was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. It was the sound of new life.
“Hush, hush,” he awkwardly tried to rock the baby in his arms, unsure of what he was doing.
“Crying’s good,” Azuri coughed. “It mean’s he can breathe.” She reached out her shaking arms and took the baby from him. She took a blanket and dried him off, gazing at the boy’s face for a moment. Then she began to moan, shaking her head.
“We-we can’t keep him,” she cried. “He’s a Payne,” she wept bitterly.
“I know,” Nathan tried to keep his voice steady. He had to try to be strong even when what he really wanted to do was sleep. Sleep for years and never wake up.
“And I will never give him up,” Azuri’s voice was like steel. “I would rather die than give him to the Pythonos.”
“I know,” Nathan said again, moving to the window. His stomach churned as he saw a black shiny car round the corner. They were moving quickly, and they were only minutes away from their street. In a matter of minutes they would be knocking on his front door, and after that, they would take his son. And if he or Azuri resisted, well, it would be over for both of them. “They’re coming,” the words caught in Nathan’s throat. Azuri closed her eyes and nodded, and handed the boy back to Nathan.
She slowly climbed out of bed before Nathan could stop her and knelt down, pulling a wicker basket from under the bed.
“I have coated this with tar. It will not sink.” The two looked at each other with determined eyes, and they knew what they had to do. Azuri placed the baby in the basket, covering him with blankets. “Take him to the Farnbron brook.”
“What if he sinks?” Nathan asked. They both knew it was not a question. They both knew what would happen.
“Then-” Azuri whispered in a small, choked voice that didn’t even sound like her own, “It will be a swift death.”
Nathan nodded. He picked up the basket, put on his coat, and went out the back door.
“Oh, please let it be painless and quick,” Azuri moaned, left alone with her own thoughts. She swayed for a moment, and put a sweaty hand to the side of her head. With a sharp breath, she crumpled to the floor and breathed her last.
***
“Forgive me, my friend!” Azazel hefted the ax high in the air and brought it down with a grunt. The sound of wood split by metal reverberated throughout the clearing. “I am so sorry, but I must feed my family…so sorry,” he looked down at the mass of tangled blue branches.
He bent down and touched the rough wood, staining his hands red with the blood that seeped through. The wood moved beneath his fingers as the tree took its last breath. The familiar pulsing of the wood slowed down to a stop. Azazel sank to his knees and wept.
“At least it was a swift death,” he tried to comfort himself. Picking up the ax again, he began to chop the wood into logs, one by one.
He could hear the trees beginning their mourning song for the one they had lost. He felt like singing one, too.
Looking down at the broken tree on the ground, Azazel almost burst into tears again.
“I am sorry,” he said again, partly to himself, and partly to the tree, “but I must sell your wood. I am not going to watch my children starve one by one.” He looked at the tree again. “What have I done?” he moaned. He began to sob, not only because of the innocent tree he had killed, but for his children who he could not save, for the life he could have lived, and for all the other Paynes who lived in misery because of the Pythonos.
And Azazel turned his face to the sky and began his own cry of mourning. It was not as beautiful as the trees’-it was ugly and loud and long, but it told a story. A story of a man with nothing left, and a story of a man who was at the end of his rope, who loved his family and would do anything to protect them.
Please do not cry. There is enough tears in this world already. Azazel jumped as a voice that was not his own echoed inside his head. The voice was beautiful, but every edge was coated with sadness and despair. It is alright. He understood what you had to do. Azazel whirled around as something touched the back of his neck. A beautiful tree had crept up behind him. She was tall and slender, her leaves were the richest of blue, and her branches were strong and supported the deep indigo fruit she carried.
You are beautiful, thought Azazel, as he nodded his respect.
Yes, I know, the tree laughed. Then her branches drooped and she would have looked concerned had she possessed the features allowing such expression. You look weak, she observed, moving one of her branches of fruit lower so that Azazel could reach the branch easily. Take one. Azazel knew at once she meant the fruit.
Thank you, Azazel breathed. He had never received such an offer before, an offer he could not resist. Azazel stood up and took one.
He had never seen fruit like this before. It was small like a kiwi, but soft and bumpy. His eye darted around to be sure he was not being watched, and sunk his teeth into the fruit. His eyes grew wide as his senses were overloaded with the goodness of the fruit. He sighed and reveled in how delightful it was. The texture, taste, the smell, it was all perfect. He sighed in pure happiness. This was a million times better than any dessert he had ever tasted in his life. It was sweeter than a peach. As soon as Azazel swallowed, he knew it was a mistake. The aftertaste was horrible, which was ironic considering how lovely it had tasted.
Azazel coughed as the inside of his mouth and throat seemed to shrivel up. I mean no disrespect, but what exactly is this? He tried to avoid making a face as he swallowed hard.
The tree laughed again, moving her branches in swooping motions as she rocked back and forth. I suppose I should have warned you. I apologize for the taste, though you will be glad you endured it. This is a Yougelhingerbel, known as Yougel berries for short. They have great medicinal properties. Are you not feeling stronger by the moment?
Azazel lifted the ax again and to his surprise, he was in fact stronger. I am. Thank you. He bowed before the great majestic creature.
Oh, don’t do that, the tree jumped back as though she was surprised. Not to me. We only bow to the Great One. And with that, the tree vanished. Azazel stared dumbly at the spot where the tree had been and tried to find proof that this really happened and wasn’t just his imagination.
Azazel had heard tales of trees speaking to humans before, but never before had he experienced this. He couldn’t imagine ever cutting down one so beautiful as the one that had just spoken to him, but then they were all beautiful in their own way. He shuddered. What kind of monster am I?
He knew he had to get the tree chopped by sundown, or else his family would sit at the table with nothing to eat like they had so many nights before So he gritted his teeth in determination, picked up the ax and set to work again.
An hour later, the dead tree was gone and only logs remained. Azazel began to walk to the brook to wash his hands of the blood. Not only the poor tree’s, but his own as well. He winced as he looked at his hands. The blisters had ripped open again.
As he dipped his hands in the cool water, he smiled and sighed in relief. The water was murky and dirty, but Azazel couldn’t dream of pulling his hands out once he felt the cool water run over his aching hands.
A cry pierced the air, and Azazel snapped to attention. He knew that sound well-it was the sound of a young child. Having two boys of his own, he had heard that sound countless times. He heard it again, and glanced around quickly to find the source. And then he saw it. A little basket, coated in pitch, was being tossed and thrown about by the rough water.
Azazel heard the desperate cry again and he knew at once that there was a baby in that basket. He glanced ahead, and his heart leapt into his throat. The baby was headed for the dreaded Farnbron Falls.
Wasting no time, he sprang into action, stripping off his shirt and tossing it onto the sandy bank. He dove into the water, kicking with all his strength. He had to get to the child…he had to. He swam for all he was worth, straining against the current. The current was strong, but Azazel was stronger. He had been swimming ever since he was small, and now it was paying off. He stood on the bottom of the creek, ignoring the sharp rocks against his feet, and held out his arms, grasping the basket firmly and pulling it close to his body.
“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he whispered, as if to soothe the child, who was writhing about on the bottom of the basket, oblivious to the fate Azazel had saved him from.
One foot at a time, Azazel forged back across the brook to the shore, pushing the basket in front of him. Every second seemed like an eternity as he fought the current. He was past the middle now, he now had only a little more to go-and with a gasp, he pulled himself up onto the bank. He lifted the shivering child from the basket, and wrapped him in his dry shirt. And then the screaming began. The boy’s face, desperate and angry and full of hurt and so, so cold, made his features seem all the more distorted. He had seven fingers instead of ten and one of his feet was twisted. His hair was jet black and he had bright blue eyes which were now filled with tears. His skin was pale, but his hands glowed yellow from the remainder of the power he still possessed. It was a shame that the power would never be enough to use.
“You’re a Payne,” Azazel observed. “Like me.” He wrapped the baby tight and held him against his body. “It won’t be long, and we’ll be home. You’ll be alright.” He froze. He had said that they would be home. That meant that he was claiming the boy as his own…
Azazel couldn’t help smiling. At least it wasn’t a swift death, he looked at the face of the child that he had rescued by mere chance.
“You,” he said, “are one lucky boy.”
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Third Chapter: A Hard Life
Trigger warning: a slap, threats, etc.
“Git your grubby fingers off that bread!” Lilitu froze. He looked longingly at the loaf of bread which might as well have been a bar of gold, before turning to face the enraged Azer. He turned to face the man, leaning on his cane for support, subconsciously tucking his twisted foot behind his leg.
“I wasn’t stealing it, mister,” he stammered. “I was…inspecting it, for quality before I bought it!” Lilitu’s stomach knotted. He knew better than anyone he was no good at lying. The man strode closer, towering over the boy.
“Don’t you lie to me, Payne,” he spat on the ground, narrowly missing Lilitu’s dirty feet.
“Alright, I was stealing!” Lilitu puffed out his chest. He would not let the man know how scared he really was. “It’s only because my family is starving. Paynes have to eat too, you know.” Before Lilitu could get his bearings, he was sprawled on the ground gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his cheek where the man had slapped him, wincing, and looked over in despair as his staff skittered away on the sidewalk.
“No backtalk, boy,” the man kicked him in the ribs for good measure. “Not to me.” Lilitu fought to catch his breath as the air rushed out of his lungs. He pulled himself up to his feet, his chest screaming in pain.
“I’m sorry sir-” he wheezed, clutching his side.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” the Azer stuck a flaming palm in Lilitu’s face. Although the heat was intense, Lilitu didn’t back down.
“If you were my boy, I would whip you good,” the Azer’s voice was dangerously low and threatening.
“If I were your son, I would have all the bread I could want and wouldn’t need to be stealing,” Lilitu said, lifting his chin and looking into the bright orange eyes in front of him. He couldn’t help himself. The moment the words came out, he knew it was a mistake.
“You little rat!” the Azer screamed as a ball of fire shot from his hands and engulfed Lilitu’s precious cane. Lilitu burned with anger as his only method of transportation burned before his eyes. The Azer must have seen the horrified look on Lilitu’s face because he chuckled in satisfaction, and the flame burned hotter in his palm as hot air singed Lilitu’s nose. He slowly stood up, fighting the urge to cry out in pain as half his weight was placed on his bad foot. He placed two agate stones in the man’s palm, praying that the Azer wouldn’t comment on his three missing fingers. The flames vanished, and the man’s greedy fingers closed around the coins.
“Just because you were stealing from me, you get a half loaf.” The Azer’s orange eyes glittered with greed.
Lilitu sighed, defeated. The coins were all he had. Azazel had told him to only use them as an emergency, but Lilitu and his family were starving, and if that wasn’t an emergency, he didn’t know what was.
“Like I said, we’re starving,” he pleaded, tears of desperation pricking his eyes. He forced them back into his eyes. He knew never to show emotion when he was treated this way, especially by Azers. They could easily lose their tempers as this one had, and the consequence had been the loss of one of the only thing that Lilitu needed to survive.
“As if I care,” the man turned up his nose. “Get out of here before I change my mind!” Lilitu didn’t need to be told twice. He took half of the loaf of precious bread, and began to turn away. But the final half loaf of bread caught his eye again, glittering and glowing with the promise of a full stomach that Lilitu had not the pleasure of experiencing since the Pythonos took over. His right hand itched in his pocket, pulled to the forbidden bread like a magnet to iron.
He did the logical thing. When the Azer wasn’t looking, he simply snatched the other half and stuffed it down his shirt, tucking it into his waistband of his pants.
Now without his staff, Lilitu began the painful limp home.
***
It didn’t take Lilitu long to get to the slums the Paynes called home, although he only had one good foot.
And slums were exactly what the run down shacks were.
In the center of the community was a large trash heap, dwarfing the houses themselves. The dirty Farnbron Brook was muddy and anything but clean, due to the troublesome other branches who would deposit their own trash and waste into the water, carrying it directly into the slums. The smell was horrendous, but it was better to endure the texture, smell, and taste then to slowly perish from dehydration.
Lilitu stopped at the water’s edge, pausing a moment before he crossed the brook. The Farnbron Brook, dirty as it was, always held some sort of sentiment for him. He knew from his father Azazel and mother Indie that he was saved from the clutches of the water as a baby, a whole twelve years ago. As he waded across the stream, he had to be careful not to lose what little footing he had so he would not fall and be swept to the Farnbron Falls, which would mean certain death.
In his mind’s eye he imagined big, strong, Azazel plunging into the water to save him. He who was then but an infant, a worthless Payne cast away by the parents who gave him up. He shuddered, knowing what would have happened if Azazel had not been so selfless and dove in to rescue him.
He saw himself being carried to the edge, faster, faster, and then in a blink of an eye, Lilitu’s life would be over as quickly as it began.
He continued across the brook, wishing now that there was a bridge across, but of course the Paynes could never afford such things. He flinched as a sharp rock jabbed his bad foot. If only he had his crutch, he thought.
This kind of life is what the Paynes deserve. Or at least, that’s what everyone said. This is all they will ever be, they told Lilitu and every other Payner over and over and over again.
Now across the brook, Lilitu came to the doorway of his dwelling where he removed his shoes and pushed aside the blanket and entered his home. He was the youngest son, and his bed was against the wall to the left, which he shared with his older brother Eloy. Cassian. as the eldest, got a bed to himself, and his father Azazel and mother Indie shared the last and final one. They had a dirt floor, and a rug on which they ate their dinners, which unfortunately were few and far between. They had a small oven, a few candles, and a rocking chair in the corner. If only they had electricity they might have had a microwave, but then there was no food to put in the microwave, anyway, so they didn’t have any use for it. If only they had a heater, but with no electricity and no money to pay for it, they made do with what little blankets they had and bundled up on the bitterly cold nights.
Lilitu’s mother was sitting in this rocking chair as Lilitu entered the house. All of Lilitu’s brothers were huddled around her. They were stone faced, emotionless, and that scared Lilitu. Already he could tell something was very wrong.
“Where have you been?” his mother snapped, her voice sharp as glass. Her lower lip trembled, sending chills down Lilitu’s spine. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his mother cry.
“I was at the market,” Lilitu handed her one of the half loaves of bread. He reached down his shirt and pulled the other one out, ignoring the way that his brothers curiously stared at him. He held the bread out at arm’s length, as if it were a peace offering.
“You should have been here,” Indie’s voice broke. She dropped her eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, my child. I should not have yelled, but the Pythonos came when you were gone. They took…they took Neveah. And Hanna.”
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <3334th Chapter: Stolen
It all started with a scream.
No, it was more like a wail.
It was the anguished cry of a mother being torn from her child.
Sef was on her way to the slums, carrying water back from the well when the cry made her drop the buckets. The precious water sloshed all over the dry ground which absorbed it within seconds. Sef did not see this. All she could think about was the scream, the voice… Her blood ran cold. She would knew that voice in a heartbeat. It was the voice of her mother.
Buckets and water were forgotten as the girl raced back towards the village. Her vision blurred as unwanted tears fell down her face. Her green hair billowed out behind her as it escaped from her braid, but Sef barely even noticed. All she knew was she had to get to the slums, and fast.
The first thing she saw as she crested the final hill was a mass of people lining the path. Oh, this is not good, Sef thought as she continued to sprint down the hill. She was moving fast, too fast for her own legs, but she forced herself to keep going.
The second thing she saw was a group of men dressed in long black cloaks with twisted blades tied to their sides and pistols in their hands, standing beside their black horses with red eyes. An icy fist of horror squeezed her heart. The Pythonos were here. Sef pushed through the crowd. Her small form easily darted in between the people until she got to the front of the crowd.
And the third thing she saw was that the Pythonos were holding baby Hanna. No no no! She heard the cry again, and this time she saw her mother. Her mother was sobbing on the ground at the feet of the Pythonos. Sef’s eyes grew wide. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother cry.
“Please! Don’t take my daughter, take me instead!” Neveah screamed hysterically, her black hair tangled and matted and soaked with her tears, clutching the Pythonos’ cloak in her dirty fingers. Sef let out a strangled gasp. Taking her sister was one thing, but taking her mother? She could not live without her mother, which was all she had that had meaning to her. The Pythonos wouldn’t do such a horrible thing, would they? She heard the guttural laugh of the lead Pythonos.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll take both of you,” he cackled. No! Sef screamed inside her head. “Grab her,” he gave the order.
“What about my Sef?” the woman wailed as a Pythonos wrenched her hands behind her back. Sef let out a strangled cry as she saw a needle held in the evil man’s hand.
“You should have thought of that before you fell in love with a human,” another Pythonos took out his blade and nonchalantly began to pick at it with his fingernails.
“Mama!” Sef cried, trying to run to her mother, but strong hands held her back. She wanted to run to her mother, to feel her arms at least one last time…she struggled and kicked against the hands, but they were too strong.
“Don’t, there’s nothing you can do,” said a familiar voice. Sef looked up. It was Cassian. “They’ll kill you.” His big brown eyes gazed solemnly at her which made Sef’s already aching heart burn in agony.
“They’re taking her!” Sef wailed. Cassian pulled her close to his side, and Sef buried her face in his coat. She could not look anymore. Tears and snot ran down her face as she whimpered and cried.
“I know, I know,” Cassian murmered as Sef continued to sob. “You don’t need to watch this,” Cassian decideded as he began to pull her away, half dragging her, half carrying her.
“No!” Sef screamed. She beat her fists against poor Cassian’s shoulders and kicked for all she was worth, but Cassian would not let her go and he was stronger than she was. Cassian carried her gently across the clearing and back to his home.
“I want my mother!” she whimpered.
“Hush,” Cassian squeezed her tighter. Sef sobbed into his shoulder.
“I hate you!” she yelled in his ear. At that moment, she really believed it.
“Yes, I know,” he smiled sadly. Sef soon got tired of crying and struggling and so she relaxed into his arms and let him carry her. She didn’t care where they were going. Her mother and her sister were gone and that was all she had.
Sef closed her eyes and the gentle motion lulled her into a sound sleep.
Hours later, Sef’s eyes fluttered open, and she immediately wished that they hadn’t. All she wanted to do was sleep. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to think about the horrors she had witnessed.
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Chapter 5: The UNIT
Triggers: Violence
Neveah awoke to the horrible sound of beeping monitors and unfamiliar voices.
Her eyes flashed open, but now she wished that she could erase what she had just seen from her memory.
She was in a bed, covered in white sheets. The place reeked of Pythonos. Worse, there was one hovering over her right now. She almost gagged as the smell entered her nostrils.
“So, you’ve come to,” he chuckled, sending his rotten breath in waves towards Neveah’s face.
“Where have you brought me?” Neveah demanded, trying to sit up, but to her horror, she discovered that she was strapped down tightly. And then a thought crossed her mind. Hanna. “What have you done with my daughter?” she screamed.
“It’s time for you to ressst,” he hissed, lifting her chin with his ugly finger.
“Don’t touch me!” Neveah recoiled in disgust, glaring at the Pythonos.
“You could be an Azer,” he smiled cruelly, letting his hand fall to his side, “so much fire,” he walked out of view, heels pounding against the ground in a terrible rhythm.
Now left alone, Neveah glanced about the room. It was large, and beds lined every wall. She looked down and bit her lip as she saw a needle sticking out of her arm. Wires taped to her arms and neck irritated her skin and itched, but she could not move her hands from the bed to which they were strapped. Her neck was in a brace, and she could not move her head or even turn it to the side. Her breaths became panicked and loud. She was trapped. Trapped.
“What is this place?” She wondered aloud.
“This is the UNIT,” a young voice spoke from next to her.
Neveah blinked rapidly, gazing at the ceiling. “Who are you?”
“At one time my name was Ottoline, but the Pythonos don’t take kindly to names around here. What’s your name?” Ottoline? Neveah tried to recall where she had heard that name before. Suddenly, her thoughts blurred and her vision went dark.
***
She stood in the doorway, frozen and watched the scene unfold, unable to move, to scream, to cry. She could only watch.
“Please, don’t take Ottoline,” her mother cried, holding the baby to her chest. “She and Neveah are all I have left!”
“As if we care,” the Pythonos gave a harsh laugh as he stepped closer to the chair where her mother clutched baby Ottoline.
“Please…” her mother whispered.
“Pleassse,” the Pythonos mocked her as he snatched the baby. The mother howled as if he had stabbed her. In a way, he had.
“No!” she wailed.
No, thought Neveah.
“Yesss,” the Pythonos smirked. “We’re done here, letsss go.” He and his men walked towards the door where Neveah was standing. “Get out of the way, girl.” he slapped her across the face, knocking her to her knees. Neveah fought to hold her anger back. She hated the Pythonos. She hated them all.
And as she watched the horrible men depart, holding her sister, her blood boiled with anger.
“When I have a daughter,” she vowed, “I will never let them take her. I would rather die.”
***
Neveah woke up in a cold sweat. Her face was wet from tears and perspiration. She longed to throw off her sheets, but each limb was tightly locked in place, so she could only look up at the ceiling and endure the agonizing heat.
She jerked to attention at the all too familiar sound of crying coming from the bed next to her. And then she remembered. Ottoline. A horrible thought crossed her mind. If the Pythonos had taken her sister as a baby, and it had been eleven years, then this could be the Ottoline. Her sister. Locked away all these years with the immense evil surrounding her.
Ottoline was only a child, how could the Pythonos be so cruel? Why, she thought, this is almost worse than killing them off like we all imagined they did. Her blood boiled with hate, and her stomach tightened with anger. She took a deep breath as if to relax herself, and focused on the present.
“Ottoline?” she croaked. “Are you alright?” The crying stopped for a moment, then a sniffle.
“Yeah,” the familiar voice replied.
“No, you’re not,” Neveah said gently. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ottoline chewed her lip as a tear fell onto her pillow and willed herself to stop crying. You’re eleven years old, much too old to be crying like this. She held her breath and gazed at the ceiling.
“Ottoline?” Neveah repeated. Ottoline couldn’t help noticing how Neveah’s voice was coated with concern, with love. Then something came loose inside Ottoline’s chest and she began to cry intensely again.
“The Traitor…they said….hurt you…” Neveah couldn’t make out the girl’s words between her sobs, but the tone of voice was filled with terror. Ottoline would have kicked herself if she could. What was wrong with her?
“Who is the Traitor?” Neveah asked. Just saying the name made her shiver, considering the way Ottoline said the word.
Ottoline took a breath.
“Have you ever heard of Jordan the Pythonos?” That was a name that Neveah hadn’t heard in years. First she remembered the eerie absence of the doctor, Kratos, not that he would associate with Paynes to begin with, but it was still abnormal. Then she began to hear whispered rumors that he was murdered by Jordan and Selena. And then the Invasion came. She remembered being a little girl, hiding behind her mother as the Pythonos marched in, setting fire to their buildings, their food supply, everything they called home, driving them out of Lir where they had no choice but to live in makeshift huts that became the slums.
There were thousands of the evil men, so many that you could barely see the ground. Neveah shuddered at the memory. The Paynes stood no chance against the Pythonos and their dark magic. They could do nothing but watch as life as they knew it was destroyed. Suddenly, Paynes became things instead of individuals, dirt instead of people. If anyone from the other branches were caught sheltering Paynes, they would be killed or taken away. Either way, they were never seen again.
And Jordan had led the uprising against the Paynes. He knew how weak the Paynes were and how many there were. He promised the people that had plans to somehow make the Paynes great, but as far as Neveah knew, the results had been the opposite. Jordan was virtually insane, a madman, and his plans almost always failed.
“Yes, I’ve heard of him,” Neveah finally said, unsure of where the conversation was going.
“Have you heard about the Conversion Project?” Ottoline seemed so grown up for her age. Because the Pythonos forced her to grow up too fast. Neveah shuddered at the horrors Ottoline must have suffered in this horrible place.
“No,” Neveah said hoarsely as she tried to wrap her mind around those words. They were just words, seemingly harmless words, but anything spoken about this UNIT could not be anything pleasant.
“Ever since the Pythonos took over,” Ottoline began to speak, “the Traitor, Jordan, has always been enamored with the possibility of changing branches. Can you imagine if Paynes could somehow change their identity? If we could become one of the greater Andromedans, if we could be an Pitt, or even an Estrello?” Ottoline paused. She had memorized this speech. Countless times she had told it to her neighbor in the bed next to her, countless times the person would fall silent, processing the words. And then she would have to tell them the worst part of it all. The part that gave her nightmares. The part that would explain everything. Neveah was silent from the bed next to her, waiting.
Oh, how Ottoline wished she would not have to speak these words. “Jordan has always failed, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He has built this underground complex to carry out his experiments. We are the test subjects. He doesn’t care how sick we get, how much we are in pain, or how insanely bored we get when our only view is the ceiling. Jordan is the Traitor.”
Neveah took a sharp breath.
“When can we leave?” she dreaded the answer. She had a horrible feeling she knew already. And before the words came from her sister’s lips, she knew what they were going to be.
“Never. The only way out is through death itself.”
How could things have changed so much, Neveah wondered. Only days ago, she was with her new daughter with sweet Sef by her side. Now that was all gone.
She was trapped in a living hell.
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Let me know if you want more chapters 🙂
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Wow!
One question: Most of these chapters seem to relate to Biblical stories (the Fall, Moses, etc.) but what about the first chapter with Kratos? Is that based on a Bible story or invented?
🏰 Fantasy Writer
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📚 Appreciator of BooksHi 🙂
though this is an allegory, I’m inventing stuff too. I’m using the Bible for “inspiration” and for some of the storyline, but I’m also implementing biblical truths as well. So yes, the part with Kratos is invented.
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333this is where you can see updates to my writing! Any critiques you have would be so helpful!
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333Okay. That’s what I thought. Cool!
🏰 Fantasy Writer
✨ Magic System Creator
🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of BooksWow! That was a lot 😂 and it’s really good!
I was a bit confused in the second part of the fifth chapter. Was it from Neveah’s POV, or Ottoline’s?
Any noun can become a verb if you don't care enough.
thanks! the second part of fifth chapter is from Ottoline’s POV. It’s supposed to depict when the Pythonos took Ottoline (because Neveah and Ottoline are sisters and Ottoline was taken as a baby)
Lukas&Livia
#Lalbert
Sef&Chase
#HOTTOLINE
LEFSE FOREVER!!!!!! <333
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