|
|
Post by Blyclaaf on Oct 22, 2005 21:00:51 GMT 10
The boy ran through the crowded street, his arms wrapped around the blanket that he kept tucked in his chest. Behind him were two men, dressed in almost direct contrast to the other people around them. They gained everyone's gase.
The boy continued to duck and weave his way through the crowd while the men threw people out of their path to try and gain on the boy.
The boy made his way to the docks, hoping that a ship would be there to take him away from his attackers.
____________________________________________
Blyclaaf stood on the tower of the castle. His arm still carried the stain of the bronze that was a reminder of the battle against the large bronze monster.
His eyes cast out into the distance, watching the swells break over each other, throwing water into the air.
His mind wandered back to his old king, the one who had hired him to cleanse his kingdom of all evil.
Shaking his head, he picked his sword up and headed for the stairs.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blyclaaf on Mar 10, 2006 21:47:36 GMT 10
The 'All-Aboard' call sounded from the first mate. The mast gave birth to a white sail with a painting of two open palms, the thumbs touching, the signal of the vessel.
The wind picked up and carried the sail, causing the boat to cut through the water.
The boy ran through the crowd, dodging with inhuman skill. His chasers followed, throwing persons in their way.
The ship moved slowly from the dock and tie ropes were thrown from the ship.
His feet hit hard against the wood of the docks. The rhythm of footsteps was too fast to be human, resembling more of a horse than a boy.
Behind him, the noise of shattered glass rang through the crowd as one of his chasers threw a man into a window.
The sweat dripped down his sore legs as he turned into the aisle of the now departing ship. Closing his eyes, he jumped for the ship, his body seeming to fly over the high sides as if they were no more than a stick, laying on the ground.
He landed with a crash, yet held on to the blanket.
___________________________________________
The two chasers stood watching the ship from the docks. Their black hats sat squarely on their heads, identically on each. Their black coats had barely visible signs of blood on them and under their coats they had weapons of a foreign army. One of them turned to the other, before the both of them disappeared.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blyclaaf on Mar 10, 2006 22:12:04 GMT 10
"Are you alright there, lad?" said the booming voice of the captain.
There was no verbal reply, just a nod as the boy raised himself from the deck of the sail ship with the black palms.
"Sorry to 'ave almost left you behind, lad."
Again, the boy did not speak, his hands and eyes concentrating on the contents of the blanket.
The Captain said nothing, eyeing off this mysterious youth. The boy had little hair, showing off two large circular brandings on either side. He wore pants made of a material unknown to the old sailor and his vest was obviously stolen.
The boy looked up at the Captain. The boy's solid, blood red eyes scared the Captain, making him take a step backwards before he noticed the boy's mouth.
The outer limits of the boy's mouth seemed to be sown shut by a flesh coloured fabric. Whether the boy could still speak or eat was a fact the Captain could only ponder in his mind.
"I guess you'll be 'ear til the end of the trip, 'ey lad?"
The boy took his blood-red gaise from the Captain to the bow. In the distance he saw a black dot, hovering on the horizon like a fly across a room.
He nodded his head, the branding on his head moving across his head as he did so.
|
|
