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haha!!!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
lol. No. I don’t do that until closer to 2:00 in the afternoon………………….
pretty much same for me usually, except the past few days. Mom and Dad have recently kept a stock of my favorite cereal so I now have incentive to eat breakfast, so recently I’ve skipped lunch.
And I just realized as I said that that I haven’t eaten anything besides a small snack today… I should go eat.
HEY! We’re pretty similar! @rae now I’m not the only one you have to worry about, lol
There are many people who have trouble eating, but only one of them happens to be specifically my Andrew. Doesn’t mean I don’t have concern for other people, but you affect me more personally than they do.
STOP!!!!!!! Have you eaten Breakfast???
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)first off, I want a copy of your pfp!!!
Second, I find bad eating habits common among Authors. I think it’s because we get so lost in our book worlds that we forget about the real world.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
@raxforge (because this short story has changed a little since you last read it) @ellette-giselle @keilah-h @highscribeofaetherium
Fifth story!
(not sure if I like the title, but it’ll do)
A Scar Hidden by a Scarf
Cold. Freezing cold.
Baron’s teeth chattered as he hugged himself, pulling his thin leather jacket closer around his body. His breath came out as wisps of steam in the darkness of the cramped space between two buildings that he had slipped into. The stars above shed their light, illuminating him with soft silver that glinted off of his white hair.
He was numb all over, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t warm himself. He had never had to worry about the harsh winter before. He had always been cared for, always looked after, but now…now he was on his own. Baron curled into a ball, hiding his head beneath his knees. Here he silently lamented, not for the choices he had made, for he deemed he had made the right ones, but for the lack of warmth. But what could he do? Others could beg in the streets for a warm jacket or blanket. He would be spotted. Others huddled down together or found a small place to rest by an industrial vent. Baron couldn’t do that. The Bloodsilver would surely find him. He was kicked away from the place he had been, threatened to be arrested the next time, and he didn’t want to be responsible for the death of others. Now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Baron coughed.
“Are you alright, lad?”
Baron jerked up, a breeze welling around him as he prepared to strike like a snake at moment’s notice. He stared at the old man who was peering into his little dark place, concern written upon his wrinkles, not answering.
“You cold, laddy? I can take ya home an’ ask me wife to warm some soup for ya. Maybe get ya a better jacket.”
“N-no, th-thank you,” Baron managed to stutter through his chattering teeth. The Bloodsilver was cruel enough to lure him in with such a kind offer, before assassinating Baron some place. Baron couldn’t take chances. He had to find the life he was looking for before he could let himself die.
“Are ya sure, laddy? They say it goin’ to snow tonight, ya’ll prob’ly need more than a thin jacket to survive.”
“I-I’m good, Th-thank you,” Baron coughed out.
The man shook his head as he unwrapped the light blue infinity scarf from around his neck and pulled the darker blue gloves from his old fingers. “At very least, take these.” He handed the items to Baron, who accepted them gratefully. The warmth of the scarf falling onto his neck felt so good, but Baron’s fingers were too numb for him to pull on the gloves. He tried and tried in vain, as the old man watched on, his hands in his pockets. After Baron’s fifth try, the man spoke again.
“I don’t care what ya say, Laddy. I’ll be taken ya home with me tonight. Stay with me lonely Heather and I, then ya may leave whenever ya wish in the mornin’.”
Baron looked up, staring into the old man’s deep eyes before nodding. Baron stood, wobbly at first for he couldn’t feel his legs, coming out to walk with the man. Before they began walking, the man grabbed Baron’s cold hands with his warm ones, helping Baron put on the gloves. “Me name be Shire, by the way. What be yours?”
“B-Brutus.”
“Well, come now, Brutus. Heather will be happy to meet ya.”
The walk to Shire’s home was short, but half the way the old man had to help Baron, for his legs refused to obey his commands. Snowflakes began to lightly fall as they neared the tiny house the man called home. When they got to the house, Shire left him to collapse into a large armchair.
Baron closed his eyes. Warmth. Warmth sweeping over his body. It felt so good to his cold body.
He faintly heard Shire telling his wife about Baron in the kitchen. So far, this didn’t seem like a trap.
Baron opened his eyes again, surveying the room. The entire place was furnished with warm colors. Even the walls were a cozy pale orange. A fire burned brightly in the hearth, which was adorned with pictures of two young children, and a hand-carved goose ornament. The rug was decorated in a style most commonly seen in antique stores. The entire place felt cozy and old-fashioned, down to the smell in the air.
Heather soon came hurrying into the room with a blanket and hot tea. Her grey hairs were swept up into a loose bun, and her deep maroon skirts swished about her ankles. She wore an old, frayed apron over her shirt and skirt, covered with many a grease stain.
“Oh, you poor dearie!” She tossed the blanket over him, and Baron curled into it, pressing the fuzzy warmth against his blushed cheeks.
“Th-thank you.”
“No problem. I’m going to set this tea right here on this little table, okay dearie? Drink it when you’re ready. I’ll be warming some soup, and then after you eat, you can take a bath. Okay?”
Baron nodded, watching as she set the cup down. After Heather left, Baron sat alone for a few minutes, watching the steam from the tea twist and curl as it made its ascent. Soon, Shire came in, seating himself in a chair across from Baron with a book in his hands.
“How long have ya been on yer own, Brutus?”
“N-nearly four months.”
“Ah. I surprised ya survived in the cold that long.”
“I-I used to have a place I’d go to, but they found me out.” Baron’s face, fingertips and toes began to itch and swell as they warmed. Even if it was itching, Baron was grateful for a sensation other than cold numbness.
“If ya don’t mind, could ya humor an old man and tell me how ya got yer scar?”
“Th-the one on my neck?”
Shire nodded. “I saw it before ya slipped on the scarf. Rather brutal lookin’.”
Baron shifted, sitting up as he reached under the blanket for the hot mug, gently sipping on the tea. “My friend…gave it to me.” Baron closed his eyes again, savoring the subtle herbal flavor to the tea. It reminded him of the tea a woman had once brewed for him, the same woman who had stitched up the wound on his neck.
“Not a very good friend if ya ask me.”
He opened his eyes. “He was, once.” Baron sipped the tea again, his mind running through the events that had transpired between him and Faren.
While Baron and Faren were not related by blood, both of them had been taken in by the Bloodsilver almost at the same time, and at the same age. They had lived and trained together. Laughed and played together. Became assassins and worked together. Faren was more than a friend in Baron’s life, he was a brother.
After Baron’s world began to shift and change because of Rya, Baron had distanced himself from the one he who was like a brother to him. In the end, Baron betrayed Faren to save Rya. While Baron never regretted saving Rya from the Bloodsilver, he wished he didn’t have to betray Faren, but Faren was loyal to Father still.
Baron sighed, sipping on the tea once again as Shire watched him. “But we…found ourselves facing each other in a fight. This scar is now a reminder to me.”
“Of what?”
“Of the one good thing I’ve done in my life, protecting a little child even though it meant betraying the family I had and putting my entire life behind.”
“They do say that the things that are hard to do are usually the things worth doin’. And the life of a child be a precious thing too often under-valued.”
Baron nodded. “Even if I ended up dying in the streets because of that choice I made, it’d still be worth it, just because of that little girl.”
Shire smiled. “Ya are a good man, Brutus.”
“No, no I’m not. I protected one life, but have taken so many. I am not good, but I hope that I can somehow atone for the evil I’ve done, even just a little bit.”
“There is no way to atone for evil, laddie. We can never reach the point of atonement. That is why Immanuel died, so that He could atone for our evil, so that God may pardon us. Ya must accept this, Brutus.”
Brutus sipped the tea. “I don’t think Immanuel can atone for my evil. I’m not legible for that.”
“It isn’t that ya aren’t legible, it’s that ya aren’t ready yet to accept.”
Baron fell silent, thinking. “No, no it’s not that. I’m just simply sure that there’s no hope that God can pardon me.”
STOP!!!!!!! Have you eaten Breakfast???
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)I’ve read this before…………. maybe in the snowball fight?
Really, really good! I’m liking this a lot!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
first off, I want a copy of your pfp!!!
Okay
Also, do you like coffee? Because I have a funny black cat one for coffee (pinterest is my friend)
Second, I find bad eating habits common among Authors. I think it’s because we get so lost in our book worlds that we forget about the real world.
Yeah…I can relate to that.
I’ve mostly corrected my eating habits, still not perfect yet. I went through a really stressful portion of my life and that’s mostly what caused my inconstant eating habits.
STOP!!!!!!! Have you eaten Breakfast???
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)I’ve read this before…………. maybe in the snowball fight?
Yep. This is the same, it just has the ending now.
STOP!!!!!!! Have you eaten Breakfast???
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)There are many people who have trouble eating, but only one of them happens to be specifically my Andrew. Doesn’t mean I don’t have concern for other people, but you affect me more personally than they do.
Okay, I guess I should be happy about that. BUT!
Second, I find bad eating habits common among Authors. I think it’s because we get so lost in our book worlds that we forget about the real world.
Ellette gets me!
Why do I change my signature so much? DJT!!!
#AnduthForever (Lord Willing)@rae @raxforge @ellette-giselle It’s not that I forget to eat, it’s just that I can survive a solid portion of the day on a single bread roll I had at 11 in the morning.
And then when I do get hungry, I’ll eat a large meal, which will probably last me a WHILE.
"When in doubt, eat cheese crackers."-me to my charries who don't even know about cheese crackers
*SUBSCRIBES*
I need to read this, one hundred percent. I’m sorry I haven’t jumped onto this topic right away, school and thesis have been attacking all my cognitive functions.
#ProtectAdolinKholin
No problem!
I’d like to hear your opinion on the stories!
STOP!!!!!!! Have you eaten Breakfast???
#AnduthForever (hopefully 💕)Kay! I will try to remember to read these after finishing the weekly work.
#ProtectAdolinKholin
Yayy I read them!! Congrats in the new project and the progress. :-p
I really like how smooth and descriptive your language can be. Since I read some of Guardian Angels, you’ve always written very peaceful, poetic descriptions, and that’s one of tour strengths.
You also do a good job giving each character some defining traits, so they aren’t immediately forgettable. I can still remember the details from some of the characters in the first short story, and I wasn’t trying hard to remember or anything. I’ve read stories where the characters have same-face syndrome or whatever you call it. That wasn’t the case here.
I have a few questions about the setting of the story. Is this futuristic or not? Sometimes I felt like it was, but sometimes the setting felt older (like in story four).
Also, you mentioned a princess, one government, and the existence of multiple species (which suggests the existence of multiple civilizations). How do these factors clash or mesh with each other? With Baron’s position of an assassin, these things are probably important. Maybe you’ve already planned these things out, but I’m going to mention them anyway.
And finally, how old is Baron? His behavior seems to waver back and forth, and I cannot tell from how Max and Ruby treat him. At the beginning, I thought he was Max’s age, and now I think he is younger.
Anyway, amazing job, Ruth!! <33
#ProtectAdolinKholin
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