Author Topic: Rinella's Fantasy One-Shots  (Read 1160 times)

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Offline RinellaWasHere

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Rinella's Fantasy One-Shots
« on: August 06, 2012, 05:58:35 pm »
Hey guys! So, I do a lot of writing. Most of it is fantasy, set in a world called Hallem. I've been doing world-building on Hallem for three years now, but I only started writing in it about eight months ago. I post my stories on my blog and on DA, but I don't get much feedback, so I'll be bringing them here. Let's get started with my first Hallem story, a one-shot called "Quiet".

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Quiet
by ~RinellaWasHere

My beloved wife,

It's quiet now.

We've bunked down for the night along a river- I'm not allowed to tell you where. It's almost midnight here- the whole regiment is sleeping, or doing a good impression of it. The air is clean and fresh, and the slaves have lit incense to ward off the demons. Someday, when this war is all over, you and I need to come to Domines together. It's so beautiful here- you can see for miles from the mountaintops, and the valleys are like paintings. When we first crossed the border, I didn't even believe they were real. They were too perfect.

Speaking of miracles, I saw snow for the first time yesterday. We reached the top of one of the biggest mountains in the province, and it was falling all around us. You like snow, don't you? I remember you telling me about it when we were courting, how it looked and felt and tasted. You were so lucky to grow up in the Raegel, away from all the city noise and heat and people. That's another thing you used to tell me- how you had trouble sleeping because the city nights were so loud. Maybe you'd like it here. All I can hear are the crickets and the horses, and the occasional snore. It's peaceful, serene... It's you, my love, you all around me. And on a night like this, I need that more than anything.

Because it's not all good news. The scouts found a trade caravan wrecked in the hills yesterday. My cadre helped clean the remains... it was awful, Asya, a nightmare out of the old stories. The bodies were cut up and burned, the horses skinned and slaughtered, and the food stolen. We found footprints, but we didn't have enough men to chase them. We were sure they were long gone, but the secondary scouts somehow found their camp in the foothills a few miles away this morning.

We charge tomorrow. My spear is sharpened, my armor's polished and greased, and my horse is fed and ready. All my duties are done, and the world is silent, but I couldn't get myself to sleep. Not before I told you I love you again.

I don't want to be a soldier, Asya. I was a carpenter, not a fighter. I don't want to go out there tomorrow, to fight and kill and maybe even die, but I don't have a choice. You asked me, before I enlisted, why I had to do it, and I never answered. I didn't really know then, but I do know.

Look in a mirror.

You, my sweet. You and our little girls are why I'm out here. Because I've seen what these Baeri bastards do, the bodies and the wrecked homes and the scorched earth. And every woman I see dead has your face, staring at me, telling me I should have done more. And every one of these dogs that I kill is one more monster that can never hurt you. You keep telling me the God-Emperor is watching me, but I'd rather He turn His eyes to you. Without you, all of this is just a waste.

Tomorrow will be a new hell. Tomorrow will be full of noise, of men and horses screaming their last words as they die. Tomorrow, I will lose good friends, brothers, men I've marched and trained with for fourteen months, like I do every time we go into battle. Tomorrow, I will kill men I've never met for a land I don't live in, in a war I didn't start. Tomorrow will be another day to see every time I shut my eyes. But I don't care.

It's quiet now.

I love you,

Tyriel Muille
Forespear Second Class, Stella Cadre
Eighth Regiment of the Ahnese Imperial Legion

***

Tyriel Muille, known to friends and family as Tyi, was killed by Baeri archers at the battle of Deskowl Valley on the ninth of Jilan, in the year 621. The above letter arrived at his house by messenger drake two days later. He was survived by his wife of seven years, Asya Muille, and their twin daughters Lyan and Baike.
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Offline Morgenleoht

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Re: Rinella's Fantasy One-Shots
« Reply #1 on: August 06, 2012, 08:12:36 pm »
Awww....

Sad autistic is sad. This is a lovely piece of writing.
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