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@ellette-giselle ooooh it’s getting intense!!
Where'd I get ya this time? The liver? The kidney? I'm runnin' outta places to put holes in ya.
Just finished the last two sections, and they are fine. I find that the more the Bible is referenced and the more that characters just accept Israel as a place, the more I want to know where this place is in the world. It is clear that is connected to our world, but I want to know how and why Aaron can openly talk about the Bible and locations in our world without confusing his audience.
Ah, the tricky questions. It is good for Aaron that Edwin is a believer, and not someone seeking to uproot the seeds of faith Aaron has planted. But these are difficult questions for Aaron, especially since he is struggling with them inwardly himself.
do it’s an alternate reality. For instance, the Empire is Rome set in the German alps with Germanic people.
Ardenta is a French-Swiss cross in culture and people with more of a French-Scotch lowland setting.
Vendailia is an Anglo Saxon Britton cross.
so yeah, basically takes place in our world if some of the countries were set up differently. It’s fiction more than it is fantasy.
Ah, the tricky questions. It is good for Aaron that Edwin is a believer, and not someone seeking to uproot the seeds of faith Aaron has planted. But these are difficult questions for Aaron, especially since he is struggling with them inwardly himself.
Authors can be the most interesting readers because they just about know everything. lol.
All though, Aaron is currently knocked out or dead. Yes, this is where I kill Aaron and transfer the narrative to Turin. What a life cut short!! That would be a super interesting twist!! I should do that sometime.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Heeyy, I have more feedback whenever you want it 😛
“Everything is a mountain”
Ok, here is the next (REALLY LONG!) section! Enjoy!!! I am hoping for LOT’S of feedback on this because I do some intense stuff! lol.
The first thing Aaron was aware of were shouts and the clash of steel. Sword fighting? But…
Aaron raised his aching head. He sat up and wiped blood from his face, and then reached for the wall and shakily pulled himself up. A wave of nausea swept over him, and he almost blacked out again. Slowly, Aaron became aware of what was happening. The shouts of battle drew his attention to the broken wall, and dread swept through him. The enemy was pouring into the city, striking down the defenders with ease. Somehow, in the long silent night, they had laid explosive material along the wall, and now it was breached.
Aaron gripped the parapets, swaying slightly. “Oh Father help us!” he gasped in desperation. “Please, please help us!” He pushed himself from the wall and looked about.
Aaron spotted Noah helping Darrien up. Both looked alright, but dazed. Edwin was on hands and knees, but was slowly getting to his feet. Turin was on his side, propped on one elbow. He had been closest to the blast, and blood stained his arms and the back of his neck. Aaron hurried to him. “Are you alright!”
Turin leaned over and coughed several times. Blood spattered the stone walkway beneath him, and Turin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Aaron felt a stab of cold dread go through him.
Turin slowly pushed himself up. “I’m fine,” he said, letting Aaron pull him to his feet. The two stood and Turin looked down at the invaders. “We have to stop them!”
“Archers!” Edwin was yelling. “Are there any archers?”
Several stumbled to him, while a few others gathered up the scattered contents of their quivers. “Get to the breach and shoot down as many of the enemy as you can from above,” ordered the prince. Then he turned. “Come with me,” he called to Aaron and his friends. They followed him down the steps and into the wild street below. “To me!” Edwin. “Rally to me!”
Soon the defenders and soldiers joined him. “Form a wall!” Edwin. “Don’t let them through!” Edwin walked and stood in the middle of the street, right in the path of the enemy. Men ran to him, standing shoulder to shoulder, four rows deep, with the second row made up of archers. “The enemy goes no farther then this!” yelled Edwin. “Not one step farther! Stop them in their tracks!”
The Imperial soldiers turned to face them, having flung off the first defense.
“Archers, ready!” yelled Edwin.
The archers loaded and drew their bows, pointing them between the men in front of them.
“Fire at will!”
The first wave of attackers fell under the arrows of the defenders, but everyone knew the supply of shafts would not last forever. Soon the arrows flying at the enemy dwindled, and then all but ceased. The arches slung their bows on their backs and pulled free short swords and knives. The Imperial soldiers let out shouts and stormed the line.
“Hold fast!” yelled Edwin and that was the last command he gave before the enemy was upon them.
The defenders fought with the strength and ferocity of a cornered animal protecting it’s den. Over and over, the Imperial soldiers charged and were stopped short. The defenders knew they had to win–– there was nowhere left to go if the capital fell.
The Imperial soldiers finally pulled back and the line of defenders regrouped. Some brave young men ran out and dragged their wounded from the streets, hauling them behind the lines to safety.
Aaron wiped sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand. His hands and arms were covered in blood–– his own and his enemies’. Turin was leaning against a cart, his head low, breathing slowly. His face was pale, but when Aaron asked if he was alright he nodded. They had come to a stand-off. The defenders too few to attack, and the enemy regrouping in the breach. A few arrows were shot down on the Imperial soldiers by the Ardentan archers still on the wall, but most of the arrows struck off of shields that the soldiers held over their heads.
The defenders took the moment to snatch drinks from water skins and breathe. Edwin had stepped aside to speak with two of his officers. Aaron looked back at Turin and saw him drinking water. The young Ardantin coughed spit blood to the street.
“Turin, are you sure you should be fighting?” asked Aaron, anxiously.
“What would you have me do? Wait for them to brake our line and then come and kill me?” Turin retorted, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
Suddenly, the sound of a battle horn pierced the air. The defenders scrambled to reform the line, looking nervously at the enemy. The Imperial soldiers stood and faced them, but did not charge. At a second horn blast, they parted to either side, scrambling out of the way of the breach. Men on horseback thundered through, wielding slender carvery swords and crossbows. Some of the defenders wavered, but the prince shouted orders and encouragement. “Front line, one knee, swords up! Kill the horses to take down the riders!”
The front line obeyed, and Edwin called out, “Hold fast, don’t brake! There is nowhere to go from here. We have to stop them!”
Aaron felt his breath racing unevenly. He closed his eyes, trying to get control as he dropped to one knee on the cobblestones and held his sword upward and forward. The horsemen road on undeterred. “Father help us, please help us!” whispered Aaron. The horses thundered on, so close that Aaron could hear their breathing and see their muscles rippling. Turin was at his side, his breath jerking unsteadily through his teeth. Aaron looked hard at the horses, bracing himself. His whole body locked, tense and ready. If he had not been watching the horses so closely, he would have seen that, though braced, Turin was fluid, ready to move with the impact of the charging creatures. All at once, the horses were on them.
Aaron’s sword drove deep into the chest of the horse in front of him and the animal fell. The shock of the blow threw Aaron hard to the ground just as the second rider swung for his head. Aaron gasped for breath and reached for his sword, still rammed deep in the horse first horse. Another horse leapt over the fallen one, and Aaron rolled to avoid it. The rider yanked hard on the rains, pulling his horse this way and that, trying to crush Aaron with his mount’s hooves. Aaron scrambled to his knees and lunged away. He reached for something, anything, to defend himself with. All he had was his knife, and he feared it would do no good. Aaron gritted his teeth and pulled the small weapon free.
Aaron lunged at the horse’s neck, but the rider saw and was to quick for him. Pulling hard on his mount, he forced the horse to rear up. The animal struck with it’s hooves, intent on taking down it’s attacker. One hoof clipped Aaron in the side of the head, sending him sprawling. Aaron’s breath was knocked from his lungs as he fell back hard on the cobblestones. The rider’s eyes gleamed with malice and he kicked his horse hard, intending to ride Aaron down. Aaron couldn’t move fast enough to avoid it.
At that moment, Turin lunged, sweeping his blade along the horse’s legs. The horse screeched and fell hard, rolling and crushing it’s rider. Turin reached out and pulled Aaron to his feet.
Turin turned to engage the next enemy and Aaron hurried to follow. All around him, he heard the sounds of terror and battle, cries of pain and fear, screeching whinnies of horses, shouts of victory, and the clash of steel. The streets was chaos, and deep inside, Aaron wondered if this was the nearest glimpse one could get of hell. Nothing had ever been more horrible, filled with terror and so utterly hopeless. It was the first time he doubted God was really with him everywhere, for how could God allow such a hell on earth to take place? Where are you! His heart cried. Have you forsaken us?
Aaron clenched his teeth and took down another enemy. The horsemen where wrecking havoc; completely overrunning the defenders. The line had been all but shattered, and now each man and boy fought for himself. It was then that Aaron began to wonder if God meant to save the city at all. Will I die here? he wondered. Just one more figure among the countless slain? Soon enough, he could no longer think, and forced every ounce of energy into surviving.
Somewhere above the noise of battle, Aaron could hear Edwin shouting. His voice had gone hoarse, but he was rallying them men. He yelled encouragement, reminded them of the families that sheltered behind them, and praised them for their endurance. He’s going to be the target of ever Imperial crossbowman in earshot! thought Aaron.
All at once, something began to change. The horses were no longer calm. They were starting to slide in the street and lurch. For a moment Aaron couldn’t see what was happening. Then, he realized that the horsemen were being pushed back and were starting to fall into retreat! It was a wild fight, but at last the horsemen turned and wheeled their mounts back to the breech. The defenders and soldiers could give no chase, and several fell to their knees, gasping for breath. Aaron spotted Edwin moving among them, praising their victory over the Imperial cavalry, and encouraging them to stand.
It had begun to rain, and the sky turned dark. Clouds built up overhead, seeming to close in on the bedraggled band of defenders. Water ran through the streets, mixing with blood and dirt. Aaron spotted Noah, Darrien, the prince and–– but no, Turin was not there!
Aaron spun frantically. He raced into the street, not caring for himself, but only for his friend. He stumbled over dead horses and men, slipping in the bloody rain that pooled in the streets. “Turin!” he yelled. “Turin where are you!” Aaron shoved his drenched hair from his face and spun in a desperate circle. He could see several Ardentans going among the slain, trying to find wounded before the Imperial soldiers returned and rode them down. Perhaps Turin was among them.
Aaron ran toward the men, but he tripped over a dead soldier. Hitting the ground on hands and knees, Aaron gasped from the shock of the blow. He staggered up, his hands stinging from cuts and scrapes. It was then that Aaron saw him.
Turin was lying in the street on his back, his sword a few paces away. Aaron ran to him and threw himself to his knees beside his friend. “Turin!” he cried. “Turin, look at me!”
Turin face was tilted toward the sky, but his eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything. He was struggling, battling the cold wave of death that sought to encompass him, and Aaron could see his body shaking as he fought to breath.
“Turin, Turin can you hear me?” gasped Aaron.
Slowly Turin’s eyes shifted to Aaron. His face was streaked with blood, and his vest was stained with it. His black hair was soaked with the rain that ran over his face in little streams, cutting through the grime. He drew in a short breath and winced.
“Turin come on!” cried Aaron. “You have to be alright! You have to! Oh God, dear God! Help Turin! Father help him! You’ve got to!” He couldn’t stand to see his friend suffering in this way. He looked down at Turin, his eyes filled with tears. Turin reached up a shaking hand and grabbed hold of Aaron. Aaron felt Turin’s hand cold against the back of his neck. “Aaron––” he coughed several times, and blood trickled from his parted lips. “Aaron… Sabina, stay with… Sabina,” he rasped.
“I will,” Aaron choked, fighting back tears.
Turin sucked in another breath and then pulled Aaron’s head against his chest. “Don’t… don’t abandon my… people. They… need… you,” he managed between painful breaths.
“I promise,” replied Aaron.
Turin’s hand slid from Aaron and he fought for another breath. Aaron slowly raised his head, his face and hair stained with the blood of his friend. He was choked with fear and sorrow, and the whole world was braking apart around him. Aaron looked back at Turin and caught his breath. His friend’s eyes were partially closed, and his head had fallen to the side. No breath passed through his lips.
Aaron let out a cry of grief and despair. He clenched his fists, looking upward. “Why?” he yelled. “Why would You do this God? Why did You let him die? How could You let all of this happen?” He gasped for breath, choking on sobs. “Where are You?” he screamed at the sky.
His only response was rain drenching his face.
Aaron covered his face with his hands and wept. The grief was cutting through him like a knife, and the pain of it was unbearable. “Oh God, have You abandoned us?”
His father’s last words, spoken to him the day he left for Ardenta, filled Aaron’s mind. “Remember, no matter where you are, or what you face, your Father is always at your side. You are never fatherless… I’m proud of you Aaron,” Aaron clenched his fists tighter. “I feel fatherless! Oh God help me! You seem so far away! I can’t hear You or feel You! Help me!”
Aaron covered his face with his hands. “I’m proud of you,” his father had said. Aaron closed his eyes tightly, screaming against the pain and grief. “You wouldn’t be proud of me if you knew! I am not who you thought I was! I am not who you hoped I would become! I’m just a frightened, doubting boy. I’m not the strong man I thought I was. God seems so far away, so distant in this horror. God where are you! I can’t find you!”
Aaron pressed his face against his knees and wept, the sobs shaking his whole body.
Finally, Aaron was slowly dragged back to the present by the distant shouting of an officer. He wiped his eyes, trying to calm his wild breathing. Looking toward the wall, Aaron could see men skirmishing about the breach, trying to hold the Imperial soldiers at bay while Edwin regrouped his force. Aaron saw men and boys dragging the wounded to the defenders’ lines where they would have a slight chance of survival. A few medics scrambled hear and there, but the sheer number of wounded outnumbered them. Aaron knew many would die before help could ever reach them.
Aaron gritted his teeth and grabbed hold of Turin, pulling him over his shoulders. He staggered to his feet and stumbled slowly through the rain, skirting around the dead that were strewn over the streets. Noah and Darrien spotted him when he came to the defenders’ lines, and they ran to help him. Aaron lowered Turin to the ground and shook his head to the worried questions of his two friends. Noah bent over Turin, tears streaking his face. Darrien stood stunned, unable to move. Aaron could neither hear nor see them. Tears blinded his eyes and grief had shut out all earthly sounds. He had done crying, and now stood in silence, alone and afraid.
The sound of a battle horn broke the silence and filled every heart with fear and dread. The Imperial horsemen pulled outside the city, and the Prince’s skirmishers turned and ran toward the defender’s lines.
Aaron looked at Noah and Darrien. He was ready for this to end, but he was afraid he would live to see another friend die. Noah pulled Turin out of the way, beside other fallen defenders. Then he, Aaron, and Darrien hurried to the prince. “We make our last stand out there,” one of the officers was saying.
“No,” replied Edwin. “If we pull farther into the street we can build a barricade.”
The men hurried to obey his command, and soon they had retreated farther into the street, blocking the only way into the rest of the city. The Imperial army had retreated outside the walls to prepare for the attack. The defenders dragged carts, broken wood and stone–– anything they could get their hands on–– and blocked the entrance to the street. Archers scrambled about in the street, slipping in the rain and tripping over the dead as they gathering arrows and spears. The spears were driven into the barricade, blades outward, to try and halt the horses. The last archer had taken a position behind the barricade when the enemy returned and began to prepare a charge. Several archers had climbed up onto the surrounding rooftops and were readying their bows.
Aaron crouched next to Noah. He could feel himself shaking, and he swallowed hard.
Noah turned to him. “Hold fast,” he whispered. “Turin is safe, Aaron. We may be with him soon, or we may not. Whatever happens, God is with us.”
Aaron nodded and licked his dry lips. He tightened his hand about the grip of his sword and wiped rainwater from his eyes.
The horn sounded and the enemy charged the barricade. Aaron held his breath as the last attack raced down on him. Horses leapt, straining to clear the barricade. Some did not make it, crashing into the spears with sickening screams, throwing their riders into the hands of the Ardentan defenders.
A few horses cleared the jump, and their riders cut wide circles around them, sending men and boys reeling to the ground. Arrows and crossbow bolts flew, soldiers climbed the barricade, were pushed down, tried to pull it apart, and were driven away. The horsemen were finally dragged down, but more replaced them. It was clear who would win. The Imperial army far outnumbered the last line of defense.
Aaron fought for all he was worth. Noah and Darrien stayed close by his side, but they were not near enough to offer aid to one another, for the enemy pressed thickly around them. Aaron spun, ducked, dogged, ran forward, stumbled back, swung, lunged, parried–– all the while trying to keep the enemy from getting to him. If only there was hope of deliverance from reinforcements. But those around him were the last of the fighters in the city.
Aaron saw fire and realized the part of the barricade was burning. He could see men trying to fight off the fire, but he doubted they would win. At least the fire blocked the enemy. The flames leapt up, and then smoldered out in the rain. The enemy was pressing forward once again.
Aaron had become deaf to the sounds of war, only able to hear his own breath racing through him. He could not even find the words to cry out to God. One sentence formed a rhythm in his mind as he fought for his life. Where are You? Where are You?
Through the fear and horror, a tiny ray of peace touched Aaron, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.
Suddenly, Aaron felt as through a huge wave slammed into him. The enemy had broken down the barricade and had charged into the defenders, sending them reeling back. Aaron looked up at the hundreds of soldiers crashing down on the small band; a wave of death. He threw everything he had into the arm that wielded his sword, trying to stop them, though he knew it was hopeless. Five or more attackers set on him, and Aaron was slowly driven to his knees. He felt himself waver under every blow, until at last, his sword was nocked from his hand and he was thrown to the street, gasping for breath and shaking with pure exhaustion. Aaron looked up at the men who stood over him. It’s over now. He could see Noah fighting as hard as he could, but one soldier had grabbed hold of his leg and was pulling the young warrior down. Darrien was already lying in the street, panting for breath.
Aaron looked up at the soldiers standing over him, but they seemed to have no intention of killing him… yet. Aaron slowly sat up and they did nothing. He attempted to stand but one kicked him back down.
Aaron sat in the wet street and watched as one by one, the defenders were killed or disarmed. At last, only the prince and three of his officers were left. Soon, two officers lay dead and the third fell wounded. Edwin stood over him, fighting wildly, but he was tackled and disarmed. The wounded officer attempted to come to the prince’s aid, but was struck down by a horseman. Edwin was hauled to his feet, still fighting in the grasp of his captors. All around them, the battle was over.
The imperial army had won.
Slowly, the surviving defenders got to their feet, surrounded by the enemy. They all looked to their prince, fear and dread in their expressions. Noah tried to run forward, but Aaron grabbed him and pulled him back. “No! don’t throw your life away,” he hissed. Darrien came to them and the three stood silent.
A high ranking Imperial officer road forward astride a powerful black warhorse. He looked over the few Ardentan men still standing, and then to the prince. At a nod from their commander, the soldiers flung Edwin down in the street. Edwin pushed himself up on one arm, breathing hard. The Imperial officer dismounted and took a crossbow from one of the soldiers standing nearby. He looked at the young prince, a sneer on his face. “You were so brave and rebellious when you were safe behind walls. Now what will you do? You have failed; your city has fallen.”
A visible shudder raced through Edwin and he looked up at the warrior. His face had gone white, and it was clear that he was terrified.
The Ardentans standing there clenched their fists or gritted their teeth, desperate to do something to help the last survivor in the line of their king. Those who tried to move were held back by soldiers or shoved to the ground. Most stood still, eyes fixed on the heir to Ardenta’s throne.
The imperial officer smiled smugly at Edwin. “Have you no more words of defiance?”
The rain was his only answer.
The officer motioned with a sweep of his arm. “Look about you. Look at my army, look at what is left of your men. You have failed. You could not save your city, and neither could your God.”
Edwin stiffened. “The only reason this city has fallen into your hands is because my God let you take it to complete a much greater plan for those who love Him. It is only by His will that you stand here now.”
One of the other officer’s kicked him hard, sending Edwin reeling to the ground. The Ardentans cried out in rage, but were quickly silenced by blows and threats. Thunder cracked in the distance, and the rain poured down on the cobblestones.
Edwin pushed himself up, pain and fear written in his eyes. He raised his head and looked at Aaron.
Aaron was breathing fast, his face pale with dread and horror. He was holding onto Noah’s vest, keeping the young Ardantin from throwing himself on the enemy. When his eyes fell on Edwin, it made him sick with grief. Father how can You let this happen! Save him! Why won’t You save him?
Edwin was watching Aaron, seeking courage from him. Aaron forced back tears and nodded. God be with him, give him strength. Oh God please!
It seemed to Aaron that Edwin suddenly remembered something, for a look passed through his eyes and the fear began to fade.
The officer’s voice broke the silence. “Look at me,” he barked. Edwin did so, and the officer raised his crossbow. “Your kingdom has fallen, and now you die. What last words will your men remember you by?” he asked mockingly. “Have you nothing to say?”
The prince murmured something, his lips moving, but his voice too low to be heard.
“Speak up,” spat the officer. “Let your men hear you, for these are the last words they will remember as they are dragged into captivity.”
Edwin looked up at him, slowly shifting his eyes from the crossbow to his enemy’s face. His breath was racing, and his expression was a conflicting mix of fear and trust. He closed his eyes for a moment and then turned to completely face his enemy, bracing himself on his arms. He looked up at the sky and cried out “Father be with me! I am Yours! Do as You will.”
The Imperial officer seemed stunned, and the Ardentans held their breath, watching the young prince as the rain spilled down his face, mingling with the blood and sweat that covered it. “I have failed,” Edwin cried. “I have lost the city! Lord, do what I could not! Please protect my people, help them to trust You. Guard them from the evil of the Empire.”
The Imperial officer glared, his finger moving to the trigger of his crossbow.
Edwin closed his eyes, letting the rain run over his face. “God, I know you have not failed us, and you never will.”
Those were the last words that ever passed through his lips.
Even after the shot was fired and the young prince lay still in the street, his blood mingling with the rain and running over the cobblestones, no one could speak.
Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked about and saw that the Imperial officers were talking among themselves and the soldiers had slackened their watch, feeling safe now that the prince was dead. As Aaron stood there, a voice spoke softly. Run!
Aaron hesitated, wondering what would happen if he was caught. He was certain men this cruel would surely be just as merciless with him as they had been with Edwin.
Run, Aaron.
Aaron sucked in a breath and grabbed Noah’s arm. He motioned to Darrien and then turned. Keep us safe, he pleaded.
The the three slowly made their way toward the streets leading into the city. They escaped from the crowd unobserved and slipped through the rain into the shadows of a side street.
Once there, the three took off running. Aaron forced everything from his mind and focused on driving himself forward, though exhaustion begged for him to rest. At last, they made it to the building where their village was staying. Aaron stumbled up the front steps and crashed through the door. Women and children started, and someone shrieked.
“It’s Aaron,” called a girl. Aaron had barely gotten into the entryway before questions were rapidly fired upon him as women hurried down the stairs or from the kitchen.
Noah sank down with his back to the wall and wept. Darrien covered his face and turned away, unable to speak. Aaron wearily held up a hand and the questions died down. He looked at the anxious faces turned toward him. “The city has fallen and the prince is dead.”
A few of the women shrieked and others staggered. Sabina was fighting her way toward Aaron, but he did not move toward her, for he knew what she would ask. “Listen to me!” called Aaron. The noise died down and panicked gazes turned his way. “We must stay here until those of us who survived return. Pray to God that they will be safe and come home, and beg Him to protect us all.”
Mothers picked up children and led them quietly back into their rooms. Soon, only the few single girls were left standing in the halls. Aaron saw Sabina was holding the hand of the little boy, Joseph. For a moment he stared at the child in confusion, but then he realized the boy’s father must have brought him there when the fighting had started.
Sabina leaned down and whispered something to Joseph. He nodded and sat down on the stairs. Sabina straightened and look straight at Aaron.
Aaron turned away from her and looked to see that his two friends were alright. Darrien was now crouched by Noah’s side, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Aaron heard the remaining girl’s quietly go up the stairs, and he knew there was no more avoiding it. He stood still, braced as if for a blow as Sabina’s steps sounded behind him. “Aaron,” she said, and he winced as though he had been struck. Why Father? Why must I hurt her?
Aaron slowly turned. Sabina was standing behind him, her large brown eyes full of fear and worry. “Where… where is Turin?”
Aaron looked at her and she read the truth in his eyes. “No Aaron, no,” she said, shaking her head, her eyes begging him not to tell her what she could not bare.
“Sabina,” Aaron began. He swallowed hard. Don’t make me do this God! Please! He took in a breath and looked at her. “Turin fell in the fight.”
“No!” screamed Sabina. “No, no, no! Oh God, please no!” She covered her face with her hands and burst into wild sobbing.
Aaron stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment, then he dropped it to his side. He desperately wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he knew it was not his place. Sabina wavered and Aaron caught her arm, gently lowering her to the ground. He stepped back again and turned away, unable to watch her pain. Father help us! He cried out from deep within his heart. Where are you? Don’t leave us!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
yes!! I would love more feedback! I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t!
I was having a rough day when the whole Aaron critique thing happened. 😅
please, go right ahead!! I would love your thoughts! Sorry I haven’t been tagging you! I thought you were no longer interested in this!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
I’m still following! Sorry, I was actually having a rough time the same week, so I took a break from KP. 😅 I will probably continue to spend time away from here due to senior projects.
So, I do have more Aaron notes since you started exploring his trust issues. They are on the constructive side of things. I want to make sure you want that kind of critique, since Aaron is one of your favorite characters. I understand the feeling; someone once said they didn’t feel drawn to a protagonist of mine and while I realized they were right, it still shook me a little. Are you okay with that critique or not? If you aren’t that’s totally okay ❤️
“Everything is a mountain”
Some completely positive notes <3
1. Your writing output is still so prolific, that’s great!! Most writers slow down towards the middle of a story, including myself.
2. I enjoy the king character. He seems like a straightforward, honorable guy who might be a tad prideful but still attempting to be a leader. He shouldn’t die. Nor should Sabina. Either of those deaths are sad. (Edit: You killed the king and that made me 100% sad!!! WHY?!?!?! 😭 I genuinely didn’t want that to happen and you must apologize right this second, Ellette…)
3. I am interested in Noah and Darrien, although they don’t have personalities yet; bros supporting bros deserve more screen time.
4. You are really improving in the flow-of-dialogue department!! The dialogue tags are a lot more varied than in previous chapters. You’ve integrated action beats and tag omission. My eyes used to get caught on the tags too much and you definitely fixed that. If you keep improving at this pace, going back to fix earlier projects should be a breeze.
5. I appreciated the introduction of Aaron’s focus flaw! Many writers don’t understand how to pick their characters apart, and I admire how you went all in.
“Everything is a mountain”
Oh no! I’ll be praying for you. Is there any specific way I can be doing that?
yes!! Fire away!! I’m ready for it now! I think I’m prepared for people to criticize Aaron.
Your writing output is still so prolific, that’s great!
Aw!! Thank you! That’s so encouraging!
You killed the king and that made me 100% sad!!! WHY?!?!?! 😭 I genuinely didn’t want that to happen and you must apologize right this second, Ellette…)
yay!! I’m so glad it made you sad! (Only another author would understand that. 😂)
I don’t know if I am sorry…. I mean, that’s kinda the response I wanted.
just a sec, you aren’t sad about Turin!?. I am interested in Noah and Darrien, although they don’t have personalities yet; bros supporting bros deserve more screen time.
They’ll get more, though this is primarily Aaron’s story and they are more allies in this book.
The dialogue tags are a lot more varied than in previous chapters. You’ve integrated action beats and tag omission. My eyes used to get caught on the tags too much and you definitely fixed that. If you keep improving at this pace, going back to fix earlier projects should be a breeze.
I’m not entirely sure what that means….. but I’m glad I’m doing good!! 😂
. I appreciated the introduction of Aaron’s focus flaw! Many writers don’t understand how to pick their characters apart, and I admire how you went all in.
thanks!! 😊
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Oh no! I’ll be praying for you. Is there any specific way I can be doing that?
I’m doing okay lol, thanks for the offer! I caught the dreaded senioritis in my junior year and I just don’t want to return to school. I’ve had symptoms of depression since a year ago and… Blegh… I don’t know what to do about it.
On the bright side of things, I will catch up in math and Latin and conquer till the end!! 🙃
yay!! I’m so glad it made you sad! (Only another author would understand that. 😂)
Yeah I was definitely crestfallen, all the way 🥳🤣😭 The irony of this feedback is palpable.
just a sec, you aren’t sad about Turin!?
I was sorry for Sabina. Not sad about Turin. I wish I could tell you why, but I haven’t thought about it enough to give an answer.
I’m not entirely sure what that means….. but I’m glad I’m doing good!! 😂
Yes, I promise it’s good 👍
“Everything is a mountain”
yes!! Fire away!! I’m ready for it now! I think I’m prepared for people to criticize Aaron.
Okay!! So this isn’t a critique of Aaron himself, like ‘ohyouhavetochangehim.’ It’s for you to improve his arc.
Aaron begins to verbally doubt God during the siege. But his very first act was trusting God to lead him into a dangerous kingdom, and he often reassures people with the Word. Trust seems to be his chief strength. There are no signs of the flaw influencing Aaron’s actions before and after its acknowledgement, so it feels out of the blue and merely told to us through his prayer and speech.
Aaron should act out his doubts beforehand. He might take extra precautions to protect himself, even create a Plan B to get his friends out of the city without telling anyone. He doubts God’s ability to work in the army’s hearts, and secretly stumbles from his leadership role. Don’t be afraid to let him sin. You can expose those actions to the people around him, and NOW this is a real problem. Oh oh oh maybe when Turin dies it’s a result of Aaron redirecting him to Plan B! And he has to deal with that consequence.
A theme unspoken is the best theme you can have. To hammer this in, try to imagine a character’s ENTIRE inner conflict communicated to the reader WITHOUT stating it out loud. Cut any statements of Aaron’s flaw in dialogue, exposition, or character thoughts. Only let it influence the action within the story.
This makes Aaron more sympathetic 😉
“Everything is a mountain”
Thanks for the thoughts! I’ll definitely try to work that in.
@linus-smallprint @linus-smallprintAHHH!!! I forgot to tag people on this new section! I was wondering why no one said anything!!! I’ll just re-post this whole thing.
Ok, here is the next (REALLY LONG!) section! Enjoy!!! I am hoping for LOT’S of feedback on this because I do some intense stuff! lol.
The first thing Aaron was aware of were shouts and the clash of steel. Sword fighting? But…
Aaron raised his aching head. He sat up and wiped blood from his face, and then reached for the wall and shakily pulled himself up. A wave of nausea swept over him, and he almost blacked out again. Slowly, Aaron became aware of what was happening. The shouts of battle drew his attention to the broken wall, and dread swept through him. The enemy was pouring into the city, striking down the defenders with ease. Somehow, in the long silent night, they had laid explosive material along the wall, and now it was breached.
Aaron gripped the parapets, swaying slightly. “Oh Father help us!” he gasped in desperation. “Please, please help us!” He pushed himself from the wall and looked about.
Aaron spotted Noah helping Darrien up. Both looked alright, but dazed. Edwin was on hands and knees, but was slowly getting to his feet. Turin was on his side, propped on one elbow. He had been closest to the blast, and blood stained his arms and the back of his neck. Aaron hurried to him. “Are you alright!”
Turin leaned over and coughed several times. Blood spattered the stone walkway beneath him, and Turin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Aaron felt a stab of cold dread go through him.
Turin slowly pushed himself up. “I’m fine,” he said, letting Aaron pull him to his feet. The two stood and Turin looked down at the invaders. “We have to stop them!”
“Archers!” Edwin was yelling. “Are there any archers?”
Several stumbled to him, while a few others gathered up the scattered contents of their quivers. “Get to the breach and shoot down as many of the enemy as you can from above,” ordered the prince. Then he turned. “Come with me,” he called to Aaron and his friends. They followed him down the steps and into the wild street below. “To me!” Edwin yelled. “Rally to me!”
Soon the defenders and soldiers joined him. “Form a wall!” Edwin ordered. “Don’t let them through!” Edwin moved to stand in the middle of the street, right in the path of the enemy. Men ran to him, standing shoulder to shoulder, four rows deep, with the second row made up of archers. “The enemy goes no farther then this!” yelled Edwin. “Not one step farther! Stop them in their tracks!”
The Imperial soldiers turned to face them, having flung off the first defense.
“Archers, ready!” yelled Edwin.
The archers loaded and drew their bows, pointing them between the men in front of them.
“Fire at will!”
The first wave of attackers fell under the arrows of the defenders, but everyone knew the supply of shafts would not last forever. Soon the arrows flying at the enemy dwindled, and then all but ceased. The arches slung their bows on their backs and pulled free short swords and knives. The Imperial soldiers let out shouts and stormed the line.
“Hold fast!” yelled Edwin and that was the last command he gave before the enemy was upon them.
The defenders fought with the strength and ferocity of a cornered animal protecting it’s den. Over and over, the Imperial soldiers charged and were stopped short. The defenders knew they had to win–– there was nowhere left to go if the capital fell.
The Imperial soldiers finally pulled back and the line of defenders regrouped. Some brave young men ran out and dragged their wounded from the streets, hauling them behind the lines to safety.
Aaron wiped sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand. His hands and arms were covered in blood–– his own and his enemies’. Turin was leaning against a cart, his head low, breathing slowly. His face was pale, but when Aaron asked if he was alright he nodded. They had come to a stand-off. The defenders too few to attack, and the enemy regrouping in the breach. A few arrows were shot down on the Imperial soldiers by the Ardentan archers still on the wall, but most of the arrows struck off of shields that the soldiers held over their heads.
The defenders took the moment to snatch drinks from water skins and breathe. Edwin had stepped aside to speak with two of his officers. Aaron looked back at Turin and saw him drinking water. The young Ardantin coughed spit blood to the street.
“Turin, are you sure you should be fighting?” asked Aaron, anxiously.
“What would you have me do? Wait for them to brake our line and then come and kill me?” Turin retorted, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
Suddenly, the sound of a battle horn pierced the air. The defenders scrambled to reform the line, looking nervously at the enemy. The Imperial soldiers stood and faced them, but did not charge. At a second horn blast, they parted to either side, scrambling out of the way of the breach. Men on horseback thundered through, wielding slender carvery swords and crossbows. Some of the defenders wavered, but the prince shouted orders and encouragement. “Front line, one knee, swords up! Kill the horses to take down the riders!”
The front line obeyed, and Edwin called out, “Hold fast, don’t brake! There is nowhere to go from here. We have to stop them!”
Aaron felt his breath racing unevenly. He closed his eyes, trying to get control as he dropped to one knee on the cobblestones and held his sword upward and forward. The horsemen road on undeterred. “Father help us, please help us!” whispered Aaron. The horses thundered on, so close that Aaron could hear their breathing and see their muscles rippling. Turin was at his side, his breath jerking unsteadily through his teeth. Aaron looked hard at the horses, bracing himself. His whole body locked, tense and ready. If he had not been watching the horses so closely, he would have seen that, though braced, Turin was fluid, ready to move with the impact of the charging creatures. All at once, the horses were on them.
Aaron’s sword drove deep into the chest of the horse in front of him and the animal fell. The shock of the blow threw Aaron hard to the ground just as the second rider swung for his head. Aaron gasped for breath and reached for his sword, still rammed deep in the horse first horse. Another horse leapt over the fallen one, and Aaron rolled to avoid it. The rider yanked hard on the rains, pulling his horse this way and that, trying to crush Aaron with his mount’s hooves. Aaron scrambled to his knees and lunged away. He reached for something, anything, to defend himself with. All he had was his knife, and he feared it would do no good. Aaron gritted his teeth and pulled the small weapon free.
Aaron lunged at the horse’s neck, but the rider saw and was to quick for him. Pulling hard on his mount, he forced the horse to rear up. The animal struck with it’s hooves, intent on taking down it’s attacker. One hoof clipped Aaron in the side of the head, sending him sprawling. Aaron’s breath was knocked from his lungs as he fell back hard on the cobblestones. The rider’s eyes gleamed with malice and he kicked his horse hard, intending to ride Aaron down. Aaron couldn’t move fast enough to avoid it.
At that moment, Turin lunged, sweeping his blade along the horse’s legs. The horse screeched and fell hard, rolling and crushing it’s rider. Turin reached out and pulled Aaron to his feet.
Turin turned to engage the next enemy and Aaron hurried to follow. All around him, he heard the sounds of terror and battle, cries of pain and fear, screeching whinnies of horses, shouts of victory, and the clash of steel. The streets was chaos, and deep inside, Aaron wondered if this was the nearest glimpse one could get of hell. Nothing had ever been more horrible, filled with terror and so utterly hopeless. It was the first time he doubted God was really with him everywhere, for how could God allow such a hell on earth to take place? Where are you! His heart cried. Have you forsaken us?
Aaron clenched his teeth and took down another enemy. The horsemen where wrecking havoc; completely overrunning the defenders. The line had been all but shattered, and now each man and boy fought for himself. It was then that Aaron began to wonder if God meant to save the city at all. Will I die here? he wondered. Just one more figure among the countless slain? Soon enough, he could no longer think, and forced every ounce of energy into surviving.
Somewhere above the noise of battle, Aaron could hear Edwin shouting. His voice had gone hoarse, but he was rallying the men. He yelled encouragement, reminded them of the families that sheltered behind them, and praised them for their endurance. He’s going to be the target of ever Imperial crossbowman in earshot! thought Aaron.
All at once, something began to change. The horses were no longer calm. They were starting to slide in the street and lurch. For a moment Aaron couldn’t see what was happening. Then, he realized that the horsemen were being pushed back and were starting to fall into retreat! It was a wild fight, but at last the horsemen turned and wheeled their mounts back to the breech. The defenders and soldiers could give no chase, and several fell to their knees, gasping for breath. Aaron spotted Edwin moving among them, praising their victory over the Imperial cavalry, and encouraging them to stand.
It had begun to rain, and the sky turned dark. Clouds built up overhead, seeming to close in on the bedraggled band of defenders. Water ran through the streets, mixing with blood and dirt. Aaron spotted Noah, Darrien, the prince and–– but no, Turin was not there!
Aaron spun frantically. He raced into the street, not caring for himself, but only for his friend. He stumbled over dead horses and men, slipping in the bloody rain that pooled in the streets. “Turin!” he yelled. “Turin where are you!” Aaron shoved his drenched hair from his face and spun in a desperate circle. He could see several Ardentans going among the slain, trying to find wounded before the Imperial soldiers returned and rode them down. Perhaps Turin was among them.
Aaron ran toward the men, but he tripped over a dead soldier. Hitting the ground on hands and knees, Aaron gasped from the shock of the blow. He staggered up, his hands stinging from cuts and scrapes. It was then that Aaron saw him.
Turin was lying in the street on his back, his sword a few paces away. Aaron ran to him and threw himself to his knees beside his friend. “Turin!” he cried. “Turin, look at me!”
Turin face was tilted toward the sky, but his eyes didn’t seem to be focused on anything. He was struggling, battling the cold wave of death that sought to encompass him, and Aaron could see his body shaking as he fought to breath.
“Turin, Turin can you hear me?” gasped Aaron.
Slowly Turin’s eyes shifted to Aaron. His face was streaked with blood, and his vest was stained with it. His black hair was soaked with the rain that ran over his face in little streams, cutting through the grime. He drew in a short breath and winced.
“Turin come on!” cried Aaron. “You have to be alright! You have to! Oh God, dear God! Help Turin! Father help him! You’ve got to!” He couldn’t stand to see his friend suffering in this way. He looked down at Turin, his eyes filled with tears. Turin reached up a shaking hand and grabbed hold of Aaron. Aaron felt Turin’s hand cold against the back of his neck. “Aaron––” he coughed several times, and blood trickled from his parted lips. “Aaron… Sabina, stay with… Sabina,” he rasped.
“I will,” Aaron choked, fighting back tears.
Turin sucked in another breath and then pulled Aaron’s head against his chest. “Don’t… don’t abandon my… people. They… need… you,” he managed between painful breaths.
“I promise,” replied Aaron.
Turin’s hand slid from Aaron and he fought for another breath. Aaron slowly raised his head, his face and hair stained with the blood of his friend. He was choked with fear and sorrow, and the whole world was braking apart around him. Aaron looked back at Turin and caught his breath. His friend’s eyes were partially closed, and his head had fallen to the side. No breath passed through his lips.
Aaron let out a cry of grief and despair. He clenched his fists, looking upward. “Why?” he yelled. “Why would You do this God? Why did You let him die? How could You let all of this happen?” He gasped for breath, choking on sobs. “Where are You?” he screamed at the sky.
His only response was rain drenching his face.
Aaron covered his face with his hands and wept. The grief was cutting through him like a knife, and the pain of it was unbearable. “Oh God, have You abandoned us?”
His father’s last words, spoken to him the day he left for Ardenta, filled Aaron’s mind. “Remember, no matter where you are, or what you face, your Father is always at your side. You are never fatherless… I’m proud of you Aaron,” Aaron clenched his fists tighter. “I feel fatherless! Oh God help me! You seem so far away! I can’t hear You or feel You! Help me!”
Aaron covered his face with his hands. “I’m proud of you,” his father had said. Aaron closed his eyes tightly, screaming against the pain and grief. “You wouldn’t be proud of me if you knew! I am not who you thought I was! I am not who you hoped I would become! I’m just a frightened, doubting boy. I’m not the strong man I thought I was. God seems so far away, so distant in this horror. God where are you! I can’t find you!”
Aaron pressed his face against his knees and wept, the sobs shaking his whole body.
Finally, Aaron was slowly dragged back to the present by the distant shouting of an officer. He wiped his eyes, trying to calm his wild breathing. Looking toward the wall, Aaron could see men skirmishing about the breach, trying to hold the Imperial soldiers at bay while Edwin regrouped his force. Aaron saw men and boys dragging the wounded to the defenders’ lines where they would have a slight chance of survival. A few medics scrambled hear and there, but the sheer number of wounded outnumbered them. Aaron knew many would die before help could ever reach them.
Aaron gritted his teeth and grabbed hold of Turin, pulling him over his shoulders. He staggered to his feet and stumbled slowly through the rain, skirting around the dead that were strewn over the streets. Noah and Darrien spotted him when he came to the defenders’ lines, and they ran to help him. Aaron lowered Turin to the ground and shook his head to the worried questions of his two friends. Noah bent over Turin, tears streaking his face. Darrien stood stunned, unable to move. Aaron could neither hear nor see them. Tears blinded his eyes and grief had shut out all earthly sounds. He had done crying, and now stood in silence, alone and afraid.
The sound of a battle horn broke the silence and filled every heart with fear and dread. The Imperial horsemen pulled outside the city, and the Prince’s skirmishers turned and ran toward the defender’s lines.
Aaron looked at Noah and Darrien. He was ready for this to end, but he was afraid he would live to see another friend die. Noah pulled Turin out of the way, beside other fallen defenders. Then he, Aaron, and Darrien hurried to the prince. “We make our last stand out there,” one of the officers was saying.
“No,” replied Edwin. “If we pull farther into the street we can build a barricade.”
The men hurried to obey his command, and soon they had retreated farther into the street, blocking the only way into the rest of the city. The Imperial army had retreated outside the walls to prepare for the attack. The defenders dragged carts, broken wood and stone–– anything they could get their hands on–– and blocked the entrance to the street. Archers scrambled about in the street, slipping in the rain and tripping over the dead as they gathering arrows and spears. The spears were driven into the barricade, blades outward, to try and halt the horses. The last archer had taken a position behind the barricade when the enemy returned and began to prepare a charge. Several archers had climbed up onto the surrounding rooftops and were readying their bows.
Aaron crouched next to Noah. He could feel himself shaking, and he swallowed hard.
Noah turned to him. “Hold fast,” he whispered. “Turin is safe, Aaron. We may be with him soon, or we may not. Whatever happens, God is with us.”
Aaron nodded and licked his dry lips. He tightened his hand about the grip of his sword and wiped rainwater from his eyes.
The horn sounded and the enemy charged the barricade. Aaron held his breath as the last attack raced down on him. Horses leapt, straining to clear the barricade. Some did not make it, crashing into the spears with sickening screams, throwing their riders into the hands of the Ardentan defenders.
A few horses cleared the jump, and their riders cut wide circles around them, sending men and boys reeling to the ground. Arrows and crossbow bolts flew, soldiers climbed the barricade, were pushed down, tried to pull it apart, and were driven away. The horsemen were finally dragged down, but more replaced them. It was clear who would win. The Imperial army far outnumbered the last line of defense.
Aaron fought for all he was worth. Noah and Darrien stayed close by his side, but they were not near enough to offer aid to one another, for the enemy pressed thickly around them. Aaron spun, ducked, dogged, ran forward, stumbled back, swung, lunged, parried–– all the while trying to keep the enemy from getting to him. If only there was hope of deliverance from reinforcements. But those around him were the last of the fighters in the city.
Aaron saw fire and realized the part of the barricade was burning. He could see men trying to fight off the fire, but he doubted they would win. At least the fire blocked the enemy. The flames leapt up, and then smoldered out in the rain. The enemy was pressing forward once again.
Aaron had become deaf to the sounds of war, only able to hear his own breath racing through him. He could not even find the words to cry out to God. One sentence formed a rhythm in his mind as he fought for his life. Where are You? Where are You?
Through the fear and horror, a tiny ray of peace touched Aaron, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.
Suddenly, Aaron felt as through a huge wave slammed into him. The enemy had broken down the barricade and had charged into the defenders, sending them reeling back. Aaron looked up at the hundreds of soldiers crashing down on the small band; a wave of death. He threw everything he had into the arm that wielded his sword, trying to stop them, though he knew it was hopeless. Five or more attackers set on him, and Aaron was slowly driven to his knees. He felt himself waver under every blow, until at last, his sword was knocked from his hand and he was thrown to the street, gasping for breath and shaking with pure exhaustion. Aaron looked up at the men who stood over him. It’s over now. He could see Noah fighting as hard as he could, but one soldier had grabbed hold of his leg and was pulling the young warrior down. Darrien was already lying in the street, panting for breath.
Aaron looked up at the soldiers standing over him, but they seemed to have no intention of killing him… yet. Aaron slowly sat up and they did nothing. He attempted to stand but one kicked him back down.
Aaron sat in the wet street and watched as one by one, the defenders were killed or disarmed. At last, only the prince and three of his officers were left. Soon, two officers lay dead and the third fell wounded. Edwin stood over him, fighting wildly, but he was tackled and disarmed. The wounded officer attempted to come to the prince’s aid, but was struck down by a horseman. Edwin was hauled to his feet, still fighting in the grasp of his captors. All around them, the battle was over.
The imperial army had won.
Slowly, the surviving defenders got to their feet, surrounded by the enemy. They all looked to their prince, fear and dread in their expressions. Noah tried to run forward, but Aaron grabbed him and pulled him back. “No! don’t throw your life away,” he hissed. Darrien came to them and the three stood silent.
A high ranking Imperial officer road forward astride a powerful black warhorse. He looked over the few Ardentan men still standing, and then to the prince. At a nod from their commander, the soldiers flung Edwin down in the street. Edwin pushed himself up on one arm, breathing hard. The Imperial officer dismounted and took a crossbow from one of the soldiers standing nearby. He looked at the young prince, a sneer on his face. “You were so brave and rebellious when you were safe behind walls. Now what will you do? You have failed; your city has fallen.”
A visible shudder raced through Edwin and he looked up at the warrior. His face had gone white, and it was clear that he was terrified.
The Ardentans standing there clenched their fists or gritted their teeth, desperate to do something to help the last survivor in the line of their king. Those who tried to move were held back by soldiers or shoved to the ground. Most stood still, eyes fixed on the heir to Ardenta’s throne.
The imperial officer smiled smugly at Edwin. “Have you no more words of defiance?”
The rain was his only answer.
The officer motioned with a sweep of his arm. “Look about you. Look at my army, look at what is left of your men. You have failed. You could not save your city, and neither could your God.”
Edwin stiffened. “The only reason this city has fallen into your hands is because my God let you take it to complete a much greater plan for those who love Him. It is only by His will that you stand here now.”
One of the other officer’s kicked him hard, sending Edwin reeling to the ground. The Ardentans cried out in rage, but were quickly silenced by blows and threats. Thunder cracked in the distance, and the rain poured down on the cobblestones.
Edwin pushed himself up, pain and fear written in his eyes. He raised his head and looked at Aaron.
Aaron was breathing fast, his face pale with dread and horror. He was holding onto Noah’s vest, keeping the young Ardantin from throwing himself on the enemy. When his eyes fell on Edwin, it made him sick with grief. Father how can You let this happen! Save him! Why won’t You save him?
Edwin was watching Aaron, seeking courage from him. Aaron forced back tears and nodded. God be with him, give him strength. Oh God please!
It seemed to Aaron that Edwin suddenly remembered something, for a look passed through his eyes and the fear began to fade.
The officer’s voice broke the silence. “Look at me,” he barked. Edwin did so, and the officer raised his crossbow. “Your kingdom has fallen, and now you die. What last words will your men remember you by?” he asked mockingly. “Have you nothing to say?”
The prince murmured something, his lips moving, but his voice too low to be heard.
“Speak up,” spat the officer. “Let your men hear you, for these are the last words they will remember as they are dragged into captivity.”
Edwin looked up at him, slowly shifting his eyes from the crossbow to his enemy’s face. His breath was racing, and his expression was a conflicting mix of fear and trust. He closed his eyes for a moment and then turned to completely face his enemy, bracing himself on his arms. He looked up at the sky and cried out “Father be with me! I am Yours! Do as You will.”
The Imperial officer seemed stunned, and the Ardentans held their breath, watching the young prince as the rain spilled down his face, mingling with the blood and sweat that covered it. “I have failed,” Edwin cried. “I have lost the city! Lord, do what I could not! Please protect my people, help them to trust You. Guard them from the evil of the Empire.”
The Imperial officer glared, his finger moving to the trigger of his crossbow.
Edwin closed his eyes, letting the rain run over his face. “God, I know you have not failed us, and you never will.”
Those were the last words that ever passed through his lips.
Even after the shot was fired and the young prince lay still in the street, his blood mingling with the rain and running over the cobblestones, no one could speak.
Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked about and saw that the Imperial officers were talking among themselves and the soldiers had slackened their watch, feeling safe now that the prince was dead. As Aaron stood there, a voice spoke softly. Run!
Aaron hesitated, wondering what would happen if he was caught. He was certain men this cruel would surely be just as merciless with him as they had been with Edwin.
Run, Aaron.
Aaron sucked in a breath and grabbed Noah’s arm. He motioned to Darrien and then turned. Keep us safe, he pleaded.
The the three slowly made their way toward the streets leading into the city. They escaped from the crowd unobserved and slipped through the rain into the shadows of a side street.
Once there, the three took off running. Aaron forced everything from his mind and focused on driving himself forward, though exhaustion begged for him to rest. At last, they made it to the building where their village was staying. Aaron stumbled up the front steps and crashed through the door. Women and children started, and someone shrieked.
“It’s Aaron,” called a girl. Aaron had barely gotten into the entryway before questions were rapidly fired upon him as women hurried down the stairs or from the kitchen.
Noah sank down with his back to the wall and wept. Darrien covered his face and turned away, unable to speak. Aaron wearily held up a hand and the questions died down. He looked at the anxious faces turned toward him. “The city has fallen and the prince is dead.”
A few of the women shrieked and others staggered. Sabina was fighting her way toward Aaron, but he did not move toward her, for he knew what she would ask. “Listen to me!” called Aaron. The noise died down and panicked gazes turned his way. “We must stay here until those of us who survived return. Pray to God that they will be safe and come home, and beg Him to protect us all.”
Mothers picked up children and led them quietly back into their rooms. Soon, only the few single girls were left standing in the halls. Aaron saw Sabina was holding the hand of the little boy, Joseph. For a moment he stared at the child in confusion, but then he realized the boy’s father must have brought him there when the fighting had started.
Sabina leaned down and whispered something to Joseph. He nodded and sat down on the stairs. Sabina straightened and look straight at Aaron.
Aaron turned away from her and looked to see that his two friends were alright. Darrien was now crouched by Noah’s side, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Aaron heard the remaining girl’s quietly go up the stairs, and he knew there was no more avoiding it. He stood still, braced as if for a blow as Sabina’s steps sounded behind him. “Aaron,” she said, and he winced as though he had been struck. Why Father? Why must I hurt her?
Aaron slowly turned. Sabina was standing behind him, her large brown eyes full of fear and worry. “Where… where is Turin?”
Aaron looked at her and she read the truth in his eyes. “No Aaron, no,” she said, shaking her head, her eyes begging him not to tell her what she could not bare.
“Sabina,” Aaron began. He swallowed hard. Don’t make me do this God! Please! He took in a breath and looked at her. “Turin fell in the fight.”
“No!” screamed Sabina. “No, no, no! Oh God, please no!” She covered her face with her hands and burst into wild sobbing.
Aaron stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment, then he dropped it to his side. He desperately wanted to hold her and comfort her, but he knew it was not his place. Sabina wavered and Aaron caught her arm, gently lowering her to the ground. He stepped back again and turned away, unable to watch her pain. Father help us! He cried out from deep within his heart. Where are you? Don’t leave us!
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
@whalekeeper @linus-smallprint @linus-smallprint
Also, anyone interested in character aesthetics?
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Oh, you killed off some major characters. Somehow I knew right when Aaron started calling for Turin in battle that he would find his friend dying. Major blow to his faith there. Poor Sabina and Aaron. And now there is no royal heir for the country either.
do it’s an alternate reality. For instance, the Empire is Rome set in the German alps with Germanic people.
Thank you for an explanation of this, but I really need to see this in the story. I am becoming distracted from the messages in here because I am so busy wondering how the gospel got to these people. Think of it like a story set in the world of Faraway, where one character really knows his English history, but there is no even a hint of a connection to our world other than the fact he knows all this. It seems very weird how this character knows so much of our world and talks about it as if it was a piece of history from our world.
If this alternative version of our world is similar to ours, except for these countries, this needs to be established somehow. Where is this in the real world? (One of my favourite explanations of a fictional land we have never heard of is in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, in which the island the story takes place on is located under the “A” of “The Atlantic Ocean”.) If this world is entirely different from ours, then maybe you should consider allegorizing the Gospel a bit, swapping out names we know for made-up ones as you did for your version of Rome. (If The Empire is your version of Rome, would their Bibles say something other than ‘Romans’?)
The reason why I point this out is because in the first draft of my story, I did something similar. Despite being in a fantasy world, the characters had the Bible and talked about things from it easily. This was even a larger concern for my story since I am writing fantasy, and was a concern that some older readers brought up. As you have guessed, in the second draft, The Faithful are Christians, The Saviour is Jesus, and The Halls of Fellowship are church buildings. I then drop hints of what these really are that the Saviour came to this world. I am hoping to guide my readers to the truth by showing it to them. I also omitted any Bible passages from the story. Characters will talk about truths and may say they read about them from the book, but since I do not want to change God’s word, I leave it out. This also puts a greater emphasis on showing instead of telling.
So basically what I would like to see in your book is an explanation of how these people got their Bibles and how the gospel came to them. If this is a world entirely separate from ours with no connections, then treat it as so. Clearing up this confusion will help prevent your readers from getting distracted from the truths you want to tell.
Okay, almost caught up. I’m so so so sorry that I haven’t been replying! That is totally my fault, I’m so sorry!
I have gotten all the way up until the sections from the last page, and the one you posted today. For feedback, I’m glad Sabina has been converted, and I like where the story is going. Critiques that I have other people have already said, but I do have some other things to say. First, this part really bothered me:
“I never thought to see one in my life!”
I think you meant Turin to say he thought he would never see one before, but this comes out a little awkward.
Second, Aaron’s character is getting better, although I think you should make his struggle a little more discreet/hidden. Idk, just it feels reenforced enough. Sorry if that doesn’t make sense. Also, if it makes you feel better, my friend once compared my character to cardboard, and I almost started crying right there. So I feel your pain.
"No! Monkeys should have pets, all monkeys should have pets!"
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