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The Loss 2

    • 98 posts
    November 21, 2017 2:20 PM PST

    “Pygellus, who is he?” asked Rake as he broke up the camp, deadening the fire and erasing with adroit skill any sign that the clearing had been used for anything but the most natural of purposes.
    “He is a boy, nothing more needs to be said, Rake.” The Old Man replied abruptly, the voices filtered into the boy's mind as he slowly released from the blessing of sleep.  For a moment he thought all was right, he could smell the freshness of the morning, the crisp air, then, realisation, fear, and pain came crashing down once again.  The past few days threatened to overwhelm him, the running, the hiding, constantly looking over his shoulder knowing he was being pursued.  Though not knowing why.  He yearned for the comfort of oblivion, of sleep, but that was just another way of hiding.  He half remembered being told that hiding never solves the problem, this was repeated on several occasions to him, who told him that?  So he slowly sat upright and looked around for the voices.  Strangers, three of them, a dangerous looking wiry man, was watching him with a hint of amusement.
    “It is good to assess around you before you “wake” boy, but it is wasting our time” the boy started to stammer out a reply “Don't waste any more of it with your words, it's as blatant as the mark on your face that you have been awake for some minutes.  My name is Rake, pleased to pass years with you.” 
    Just as the boy was taking in this information a huge pair of hands reached down from behind him and lifted him up and set him on his feet.  A mountain of a man stood before him, easily the tallest man he had ever seen, a slab of a man, he could have been cut from rock itself, a long scar cut down across this giants face, from forehead diagonally down by his nose to his chin. Eyes like shards of ice, and just as lifeless, an urge to flee started to overcome him, till those hands once again settled upon his shoulders, rooting him in place.  The giant smiled, some faces were not made to smile, then spoke.
    “Bantak.”
    “That is his name, and you have nothing to fear from him.” whispered Rake, who had appeared next to the boy, then he added sardonically “Well apart from never getting him to be quiet.” the giant slowly raised an eyebrow towards Rake, as he slowly lifted his hands from the boy's shoulders, he felt he could actually hear rocks grinding together as Bantak moved away.
    The Old Man strode over “We really have NO time for this!  Move, move.”
    “Ahhh, Pygellus, would it not be rude for us, not to introduce ourselves.  Especially to a cargo that is so precious...” a smirking Rake replied
    “Ahhh, Rake, would it not be rude for you to awaken tomorrow, trussed up, on the docks of Old Town, trying to explain to Captain Freamon what happened to his last precious cargo you were escorting?”
     “Does he not have a name?” a new voice asked
    “Bethren!!” exclaimed Rake, as he spied the newcomer “Inspired timing, as always.”
     “Yes, Rake, it is.  The last time we “spoke” I believe you owed me something.” a rumbling noise flowed over the clearing, it sounded like rock fall, the boy looked around and realised it was Bantak, laughing.
    “Anyway, that is for another time, Rake.  Not wanting to repeat myself....”
    The Old Man stepped forward, Bethren nodded in his direction “Pygellus.”
    “The boy is no one, not of import to you, any of you.  You understand?” upon hearing this it was all the boy could do not to break into tears, but never, not in front of strangers, never look weak.  Even The Old Man was now something other than what he knew, could nothing stay the same, was it childish for him to want things as they were.  He used to be happy, he used to be loved, he was known for his smile.  Now he felt as if the muscles in his face did not know how to shape a smile, and if he tried it, he feared it would be seen as some rictus grin, a demonic snarl.
    “Don't fret young one” a soft voice murmured. The boy had not realised he had moved, but upon hearing those words he looked up and found himself seated on a rock on the edge of the clearing, staring into the most beautiful green eyes, an oval porcelain face, which was softly kissed with freckles, red hair cascading like a fiery halo, catching the morning rays, she was radiant.
    “Breathe boy!” bellowed Bentak, which again was followed by rockfall laughter.
    “So what is your name, child?” even her voice was beautiful, it was fine for Bentak to talk of breathing but he was not sat next to her!
    “I am called....” the boy floundered, what was his name? Memories were slipping away from him, layer upon layer, memories that had moments before been so painful were now fading, a big man laughing, the same man in shackles.  The more he sought, the more elusive they became, recollections became fish slipping between his fingers, tickling and teasing.
    “....seems I am no one” the boy replied.

    • 2886 posts
    November 21, 2017 7:40 PM PST

    Nice, cranking out the fan fic! :) Well done again

    • 220 posts
    November 21, 2017 7:46 PM PST
    Ah, Bantak, where have you been hiding?
    What a fascinating character! My favorite so far!
    • Moderator
    • 9115 posts
    November 21, 2017 8:44 PM PST

    Nice! :)

    • 98 posts
    November 22, 2017 5:02 AM PST

    Thank you all for your kind words.

    I don't know how anyone writes for a living! It took me 2 days just for this snippet, reading, changing, rereading, changing. In the end, I had to stop myself from being trapped in an eternal loop of reading and changing 8)

    • 294 posts
    November 22, 2017 4:04 PM PST

    Dang Jazz, I enjoyed the first one and loved this one. Keep em coming.

    • 220 posts
    November 23, 2017 9:21 PM PST

    Jazznblues said:

    Thank you all for your kind words.

    I don't know how anyone writes for a living! It took me 2 days just for this snippet, reading, changing, rereading, changing. In the end, I had to stop myself from being trapped in an eternal loop of reading and changing 8)

    you are doing great! The great thing about first drafts is they can be terrible. Pro writers do like you do, and just like programming and game design, iteration is king! 

    Keep writing, keep editing, keep sharing! It's hard to communicate the details, feelings, images in your head without practice 

    • 624 posts
    November 27, 2017 2:41 PM PST

    Well done again Jazz, sneaking in a new character...then leaving us to want more.  Thank you (...and please continue).