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he smoke and ashes from the previous day created a hazy, semi-opaque existence in Cademia. Columns of smoke lazily drifted into the sky, filling the air with its pleasant yet putrid smell. It was an oddly quiet day for a bright and sunny summer afternoon. The only sound was the low, haunting murmurs of the residents of Cademia. Most stood with hopeless looks on their face, their posture and demeanor as one who has just lost more than could be contemplated by mere man. Among the rubble and ruin, flowed a feeling, deep and dark as a fast flowing river by night. It ran its seed through the veins of every dweller of Cademia, thickening in them, causing anguish with its powerful, challenging song. Age old sensations and the fury of generations rose up in all Cademians that day -- the face of Hate had shown itself again on that fateful day, once again changing the course of history.
The boy walked in a stumbling, aimless fashion. If his sight had been gone, it would not have made a difference in his walk. His feet scuffed the ground, leaving trails in the dust. The visage of Cademia had changed over the course of a single day. Where once there had been a thriving town, there now stood many ruined and burned buildings. Where once there had been families, there were none.
All was lost. My mother, my father. Dead. The northern warlords had struck out of the dusk of a warm summer's night. There had been no warning, as they poured out of the underground tunnel system, quickly overcoming the brave defenders who were on the night watch. I had heard pain filled screams and the clashes of
weapons where I was playing in the moist night. I hid in the secret place between the two buildings, where the roof of one met the roof of the other, and left a small space in between. I sobbed silently while outlasting the attack. I saw women raped and murdered, mercilessly. I saw the victors gallop out of town, as if they had done something great and noble, crying out in the ancient
language of war. When I finally came out, chilled to the bone, in the middle of the night, tears soaked my face, making me look like some strange abomination with the dirt streaked face and jerkin. I was a pitiful sight indeed. Torches filled the air as the men ran back and forth, trying to find out everything that had happened and discern the losses to life and limb. In the morning, steel armor shone in the rising sun as the army of Cademia returned to find its own city pillaged while they fought to protect it elsewhere. It was a bitter irony for them. One of the senior officers was helping a nearby family put up a temporary shelter. I was attracted to his armor and the authoritative way he handled himself. I began to edge over to him, in a very timid way. He looked up, a sad countenance...he offered me a hand, and said, "What can I do for you, kid?"
I clutched his hand in mine, and looked at him. "Teach me."
[This message has been edited by moderator (edited 07-22-2001).]
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Anyways, I was a touch disappointed with the way it turned out, but I had been rushed while writing it (not to mention the early AM hours), and just wanted to get something in so I could force myself to write more. I'll probably not get back to writing until I start school again -- early September. My schedule is too busy until then.
