|Whispers of Corruption
Author: Nanai the Ninja PM
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there were 5 kingdoms. They lived in peace without any opposition for many years, but corruption and evil has slipped into it's once firm foundation. Now a small organization simply known as the "Order" seek to protect the land.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Fantasy - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,766 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-02-13 - Published: 12-28-12 - id: 3086738
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N; Long time, no see. I've wanted to write a cool fantasy kingdom story for a while now. So, I finally got around to it, so here I am!
Now, I've read quite a few stories on all sorts of story-sharing websites, and the thing that bugs me the most about certain stories, usually written by hormonal teenage girls (Which is a bit hypocritical of me since I am one.), is the relationships. They're so cliche and they only talk about relationships between a man and a woman. What about the bonds between friends? What about family?
In creating this story, I want to show the other relationships. Partners (Not of the romantic kind), who would take a knife for one another. Older siblings that protect their younger siblings fiercely. And most of all, friends so strong, they're practically family to one another.
So let's see how this... experiment goes.
Markam snapped to attention at the sound of a rooster crowing right in his ear. The sound was so incredibly loud, it felt like his ears were bleeding or on fire. The fowl quickly bounded away before it could receive its punishment, making Markam's day start off roughly.
He rubbed his eyes groggily before realizing that he'd fallen asleep in the barn on a pile of hay. He pulled a few strands of it out of his sandy blonde hair and brushed the messy mop back into a semi-neat state. Some of it had snuck under his loose linen shirt, making his back itch.
He sat up and slid off the bale of hay onto the wooden floorboards on the ground. The wood was very old and rotted since the owners of Briarvale Farm, his employers, had refused to replace it. They had, however, provided him quartering, so he couldn't really complain.
Well, he could, but it would do absolutely nothing, if not make it worse.
His employers were a rather rude and not very generous couple that made even the toughest workers head for the hills and a better job. At the moment, the only people working there were the housekeeper, Milikin Henry and him. The only reason he had chosen to stay was because he had no idea what he would do if he left or where he would go. So he decided he would stay so he could earn some money then go get a job later on.
"Good morning, Mikkie." He greeted the old tomcat that had stretched out on the barn floor. The fat creature seemed to be still asleep.
He poked Mikkie's fat belly with his finger. "Wow, they keep you better fed than me."
The lazy feline didn't make any move to defend itself and its pride and made a low growl from deep in its throat. It tried to roll onto its feet but found itself incapable of the task.
"Fattie." Markam snorted.
He stood up and opened the barn doors, temporarily blinded by the bright stream of sunlight. His bare feet touched the dewy grass as he ventured off the wooden barn floor. The barn overlooked a grassy and hilly pasture where sheep and cows grazed. He could hear the clopping and neighing of the horses emanating from the stable. Hens clucked busily, scurrying around like they owned the place.
"Good morning!" He shouted, scaring away the songbirds that had rested briefly on the silo roof.
He saw a piece of paper stuck onto the barn door with a rusted bent nail. He plucked it off, reading it. He couldn't understand some of the words, since reading wasn't something he excelled in, but he tried his best.
To whom it may concern (That means you, Markam).
Today the master, bless his heart no matter how cold it may be, has asked that I deliver a package to the Allard household. That's Milessa's family, by the way. Since I will be in town, shopping with the mistress, I need you to deliver it in my place. You will not mind, will you? Besides, you like Milessa. Maybe you two could talk?
P.S. I left the package by the silo. I did not want the master to think I was shirking my work. Hopefully the sheep did not get to it. If not, you may blame me.
Markam folded the paper and put it in the crudely sewed pocket in his trousers. He walked through the misty grass and found the package lying in the grass. There were small nibbles in the package, a sign that the chickens had their fun with it. The paper was a little wet, but otherwise the parcel was intact.
He picked it up and tucked it under his loose linen shirt so if he ran into the master, he wouldn't be accused of stealing. It would be difficult to fool him though; considering he was a very scrawny boy and his muscles were severely undeveloped. His master would definitely be able to tell.
He slunk along the side of the barn. The young sheepdog, Marlie, watched him intently. Markam motioned for the dog to stay quiet. Being only a little older than a pup, he didn't understand and took it as a signal to make noise. He barked noisily.
Markam bit his lip as he leapt over the wood fence. He heard a few nails yank loose, but figured that they would have to be hammered in later.
He walked down the dusty dirt road. Small carriages and carts occasionally pushed through, but for the most part, it was only farmers and villagers going on the sides of the road.
This was the pleasant backcountry of the farming kingdom, Kirathiel.
Markam was not born there, though his true birthplace was unknown. He had, however, lived there most of his life. He wasn't sure who his parents were and he'd grown up with the Ashe family, that's the family that employed him, for his entire life.
He skidded down the hilly road, raising a cloud of dust. He slowed behind two gossiping old women.
"I heard my daughter, you know Emry, talking to this strange man. He talked with this really weird accent; he almost sounded like he was a Saint!"
"Must be one of those Order folks. They like to talk like that so people know that they're different. Not very secretive, if you ask me."
"Yes, I've heard of them. I heard they're plotting against the kingdoms though! I don't want my Emry associating with someone like that!"
"No, you have got it all wrong! They are not against the kingdoms, they are for them. King Qerrawin of Talidan appointed them!"
"I still do not want a man from some strange organization talking to my daughter!"
One of the ladies turned around and saw Markam, whom was a little spaced out from listening in on them that he forgot to turn away.
"It's impolite to eavesdrop, farm boy." She said in a cold voice.
He flushed, embarrassed to be caught. "S-sorry, Ma'am."
She gave him a cold glare before turning ahead. "Children these days…"
"I'm 19." He protested, but she didn't hear. He huffed and jumped over the fence, running across some person's pasture. He dodged the cows carefully, but his eyes fell on a bull that was glaring him down.
"Uh… Hello?" He waved awkwardly, backing towards the fence carefully. The bull snorted, getting ready to chase him.
He stepped back before stepping on a stick. It cracked with a loud snap, setting the bull off. Markam ran away as fast as he could manage, still in his bare feet.
On that day, Markam thought that would be the biggest adventure he would ever go on. However, if that were the case, this would be a very short story.
It's safe to assume he was dead wrong.