|
OK, ok ok, Amony doesn't seem to be responding to this, so I'll just post the Death scene, Amony can use it if she likes, if not, fine. But anyways, here it is.(is heartily apologizing for the length)
Flight of the Chosen Death Scene
Excerpt by : D, QoA
“Do you wish to pass?” Methusel growled at the assembled Chosen.
Rumour and Edana nodded; hope shining in their eyes. Rena shivered against Granit, her gaze fearful. The rest just looked on.
“What do you demand?” Kithnoran’s voice was low and menacing in the dark space.
All of the beasts shifted nervously, the tension was mounting as the debating continued.
“Blood Payment.” Methusel demanded.
All the Chosen looked at one another and nodded. Soon all of them had rolled up their sleeves, exposing the thin blue vein, customary for blood oaths and payments. Some of the Chosen already had scars across the veins, trophies of past oaths.
“Safer to cross the bridge than swim the river.” Gwendolyn muttered, Isthe snorted blue sparks.
“Oh no, a spot of blood will never do. We need bodies.” Methusel’s rider said cruelly.
Fear consumed the Chosen at these words; it flickered in their eyes and in their trembling limbs.
We have to leave Crymson mind spoke to everyone. Several flinched, unused to Crymson’s harsh mind voice.
We have no weapons; we’ll never make it. Laphari’s mind voice was calm; she had already resigned herself to the face that most of them were going to die.
We’ve got to try. Mirima spoke quietly.
On the count of three. Crymson said.
One. Madoc hissed.
Two. Hafran almost giggled.
Three! Everyone spoke at once.
Chaos erupted.
Feathers and scales flashed in the thin light, balls of fire and gusts of wind erupted from opened hands, flashes of cloth glinted. A winged panther pounced on a burly guard, sinking his teeth into the man’s neck.
Horses whinnied, roars escaped from the five Dragon’s mouths. A pure white werewolf bowled over two guards.
Methusel let a massive roar escape his mouth and leapt onto Dawnfire, pinning him against the wall with a huge boom. His left back foot captured a screaming Moran.
Giowne and Ethne had taken flight in the confined space, their talons flashing.
Suddenly two massive grey Dragons burst from the darkness, they leapt into the fray screaming. One pinned Tempay and Etain, another snatched Giowne and Ethne out of the air, and pinned Sherhazad with its two front feet.
Six guards had managed to knock out Granit and Sabrah. Hafran, Shiraso and Isthe continued to fight, soon they had their backs to the wall; the Chosen were in a small circle, unleashing elemental magics at the approaching guards.
Suddenly Dawnfire let out a massive roar, and pushed Methusel off of him, heaving himself to his feet and running towards the other restrained beasts. Moran heaved himself to his feet and followed, spitting fire at the guards. Methusel roared and followed after the two, the ground shaking with every footstep.
“NO!” Crymson screamed as Methusel launched himself off the ground, and straight onto Dawnfire’s back. A horrendous crunch came from Dawnfire’s body. The two went spinning across the ground; everyone scattered to get out of the way, the battle forgotten.
Methusel stood above Dawnfire, saliva dripping from his jaws. Moran growled and leapt at the massive albino Dragon, his claws extended, mouth open. The smaller Dragon hit Methusel with such force that a resounding smack reverberated off the walls. Methusel was knocked sideways and Moran gracefully rolled over him, claws and teeth leaving deep gashes.
The small Dragon recovered and leapt back onto Methusel, scratching and biting, gouts of flame burning Methusel’s wing flaps. Moran danced away while Methusel was struggling to get up. Moran crouched, sparks flying from his mouth.
Dawnfire slowly heaved himself to his feet; his left wing was bent at an odd angle. He grimaced as he shuffled his right wing into a more comfortable position. His sides heaved; he lifted his head and found Crymson, locking eyes with her.
“That.” Methusel’s rider stepped out of the darkness. “Was a bad idea.” He raised his hand and Dawnfire was lifted off the ground, he struggled weakly but soon stopped. The rider twisted his hand violently and Dawnfire was slammed against the ceiling. Moran screamed and launched himself at the robed figure, but he bounced off of a shield, and fell to the ground growling.
“I was going to only make you sacrifice two of you, but now,” He lowered his hand, then raised it violently again and Dawnfire slammed against the ceiling once more, sickening crunches came from his limp body. No sounds of pain escaped his mouth. “I think that most of you will have to die. Eight of you must die, or sixteen if you cant multiply by yourself.” He laughed as Methusel came limping to his side.
Crymson had remained quiet during Dawnfire’s ordeal, but she had started to cry as soon as the Rider had said that 16 of them were to die. The tears coursed down her face, her chest heaved as she looked at the broken body of her bonded. The Rider let his hand fall and Dawnfire fell to the ground with more sickening crunches.
A guard had placed a firm grip on her shoulders, but she broke free and ran to Dawnfire, falling to her knees at his side.
“Dawny?” She managed to say through her tears.
“It’s… a g…good thing… their making… some of us… die. I… don’t think I… c…can be healed. E…even if you tried.” His words came in short gasps. Crymson clenched her fist and lay her head on his massive one.
The guards began to chain the other beasts, huge locks and chains went over them, and were sent into the ground by magic. Moran had tried to free some of the Chosen, but he stopped when Methusel’s rider threatened to kill Mirima.
Crymson continued to cry, even after one of the guards heaved her to her feet and dragged her over to the rest of the Chosen.
“Now, will you choose who dies, or shall we?” The Rider said coldly.
“We will.” Kithnoran said sharply. The Chosen gathered together, each watching the others, tear stained faces, sullen eyes.
“Rena, Emmeline, Sorcha and Kithnoran. Take your things and get out of here.” Crymson said quietly.
“No, you’re the leader, you go.” Rena spluttered.
“Exactly, if I go, they’ll cut the number of you allowed to go to three. And anyways,” She cast a wistful glance at Dawnfire. “Dawnfire couldn’t make it even if I did go.”
“Who are you to throw away their lives?” Kithnoran challenged, Tharox nodded.
Your leader,” She glanced at the two. “And someone who is facing death. Of course, it may not be the last time you see me.” She winked through her tears.
“So are we all in agreement?”
“No.” Tharox barked.
‘Why not?” Crymson rounded on him, anger blazing in her red, blue-rimmed eyes. A small fireball ignited on her finger tips.
“They are not the smartest, fastest, best fighters, strongest not the most skilled of taking care of themselves in the wilderness.” Anger shone in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of fear.
“Because. Rena is young and the most innocent out of all of us. Surely you agree with this. Her heart is as pure as gold and she has nothing but good intentions. She wants to, and will see this mission through.” Anger continued to blaze from her eyes the fireball in her hand slowly grew larger. Rena had started to cry again.
“Emmeline is kind and loving. She too is more pure of heart than most of us, the most compassionate. She braves many things to see justice done. She immortalizes the goodness of heart that we should all possess. Her compassion will carry her far, and see this job done.
“Sorcha too fights for what she believes in, she fights until the end. She does not change sides because of the promise of material possessions or fame. Has she ever stopped fighting? She is true to this cause, and I believe that she always will be.
“And Kithnoran. He has moved away from his dark past, he does this because he knows it is the right thing to do. I wonder, Mr. Tharox, if you can claim any of this. The only reason you came is because of the promised reward.” She arched an eyebrow as he hung his head, the first true sign of submission on the entire trip. She extinguished the fireball.
“These four do this job not for fame or money or for personal gain. They do it because they know it is the right thing to do. We are laying down our lives so they can continue on, they are the most trustworthy to see the task through.”
The four stared at the crying Crymson, shock on their pale faces. Many of the other Chosen had begun to cry again.
“So, are we now all in agreement?” Everyone nodded.
Crymson turned to one of the guards, her face in a nasty snarl.
“May I have my sword back?” The guard glanced at Methusel’s rider, who nodded. The guard retrieved her sword and handed it to her.
“Here.” Crymson pulled out two pieces of paper from a pocket in her belt, handing them to Emmeline. “The first one is the Route into Death. Follow it carefully. You will know what to do when you arrive. The other is a list of replacement Chosen. I know that they are all good, strong members and will carry out the task. One of them is my daughter, Firis. She will answer the call.” Emmeline nodded and slipped the pieces of paper into a safe pocket. “And my sword, please give it to Firis.” Crymson bowed her head and Emmeline hugged her fiercely.
“We’ll miss you.” It seemed insufficient, but it was all she could think of.
“Take care of yourself and Sabrah, stay strong, never let go.” Crymson released her and turned to Rena.
“You are so strong for your age. You have a spark, never lose it. I don’t have any material parting gift, but I do have a Desiderata, a parting speech of good fortune and luck.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
And remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,
Even to dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter,
For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble,
It’s a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
Many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere live is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love;
For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
It is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
Gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be.
And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusing of life,
Keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham and drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”
Crymson whispered it gently into Rena’s ear, her eyes shining with tears. She turned to Sorcha.
“Sorcha, my dear Sorcha. Can I trust you to look after half of the eggs until you meet up with the other Chosen?” Sorcha nodded.
“Take this.” Crymson unclasped a bronze bracelet and handed it to her. “It is a good luck charm. That stone is a black diamond, there are only a few of them, and always bring good luck. Stay safe.” She hugged Sorcha, smiling, then let go.
Crymson turned to Kithnoran, her eyes roaming over his face, taking in every detail one last time.
“I know that I never told you, but my heart leap when you came. You are wise beyond your years and I loved that. I will miss your eyes your face, your presence and your rare smile.” Crymson blushed slightly as she leaned in and kissed him gently on the forehead.
She turned to face the Chosen. They all went to their beasts and began to take out their eggs, soothing the beasts and the eggs with quiet words. Soon the eggs were all handed to Sorcha and Kith, who added the saddlebags to their own, the eggs quivering with such close proximity to their mates.
The rest of the Chosen said their farewells, to the other Chosen and to the beasts that had carried them so far.
They all looked at one another. The Chosen that had been through so much was almost ended. Many long months had seen them brave uncounted dangers and become closer than ever.
“Come.” Methusel’s rider’s harsh voice cut through,
“You think that you could give some condemned people time to say their final good byes and etch their friends faces into their minds before they pass on or see them murdered!” Crymson shrieked.
Methusel looked take aback, glancing at his rider nervously.
“Fine.” Was all the Rider said.
Morley crawled out of Dawnfire’s saddlebag, scuttling towards the group where Emmeline picked him up. He began to cry.
“Don’t worry Morely, they’ll take care of you.” Crymson whispered into his ear as she petted him.
“All of you were magnificent. I am proud to call every one of you a friend. We’ve had our differences, but we’ve gotten through it.
“It’s like they say, good friends die together, but best friends die as one. We truly are the Chosen, and even though some of out flights stop here in this wasteland, it continues on. And it always will as long as there is but two to fly.
“To think that we started off outside sweltering Sydney, flew across oceans, islands, land and the core of the earth. Only to be stopped here by a bunch of blood thirsty, lonely Rangers.” Crymson smiled bitterly.
“All of you deserve to live a long healthy life, but most of us can’t do that now.” She looked at Rena, Emmeline, Sorcha and Kithnoran. “Will you do that for us? Live a long time, fall in love, get married and have lots of children.” She smiled for the last time.
“We go to find the Sun. Chase her as long as possible.” The condemned Chosen walked resignedly to the guards, who led them into the darkness, soon the beast were unchained and led slowly to the darkness as well.
Nothing happened. No noise. Suddenly there were sixteen gunshots that reverberated off the concrete walls. The four remaining Chosen jumped, Rena began to cry again and Sorcha and Emmeline hugged each other. Kithnoran just peered into the darkness, tears gathering in his eyes.
“You are free to go.” Methusel rumbled as his rider climbed on.
“Cold hearted murderer!” Kithnoran screamed at him.
“You all deserved it. You were getting too uppity.” The rider replied calmly. “You may return their weapons.” He gestured to the guards as Methusel began to walk slowly up the stairs. The two grey Dragons followed him, their tails swishing. The few remaining guards distributed the weapons and left, following Methusel and the two other Dragons.
The four crowded together, their animals standing behind them. All of them watched the space where the other Chosen had disappeared. They listened for anything, any noise or sound.
Rustling could be heard; flurries of movement, several soft thuds, a thin whinny, a deep growl and harsh breaths came from the darkness. The four remaining Chosen looked at one another, and then back at the darkness. Several pops came from behind them, but they ignored it.
The sounds of swords and knives being drawn from their sheaths came from the darkness.
Why go into Death unarmed? Mirima’s voice came. The distinct sound of an arrow being knocked came.
We greet Death with open arms. It was Crymson this time.
Most of us will see you again. One last shuddering sigh came from the darkness.
They stood waiting, and waiting. They did not know how long. The humming of the halogen bulbs was the only noise. It was only when the mingled blood of their companions pooled before them, that they fled up the stairs and into the black starry night.
|
Very, very well written and descriptive! 
Great job and I can't wait for chapter 2! 
