preview! the singing sword intro!

[shadsy]

SO i've been working on a new story, with some cool new ocs that i've been posting on pillowfort for the most part. and i've got some writing too! i've decided to actually write the main story instead of doing vignettes like i did with my last original project. therefore, for the most part, i'll just slap excerpts into here i think. 

but honestly, to kick things off, here's the first section!

***

When the world was created, four crafted it carefully…molding every tree, carving each river, sculpting each creature. They hollowed out the oceans, and filled the continent and world with life.

Three decided to give themselves into the planet, providing the magic to its core, while one stayed behind. It lingered on the surface, surveying the kingdom of life it helped to create.

Just in case. And there have been such cases, such scenarios where its power is needed, in dire times over Luxoria.

It has been sleeping, biding its time, until its next calling is heard.

The sun rises in the east. Do you hear me?

I’m calling you now. Heed my words.

It is time to end this once and for all.

 

In the center of Luxoria, sunlight washed over the fields and farms of the village of Behill. Quietly, but surely, things began to wake up. The river glittered, grass and wheat reached up to the sky to greet the day, cows and goats began to stir from their evening slumber. A cranky rooster shouted at the horizon, alerting all to the daily morning event.

And in a tiny farm house, a young woman sat up in her bed, stretching her arms to the ceiling, and let the sunlight warm her face from the window. Another beautiful day, she thought. She smiled to herself. Well, time to get to work.

She hopped out of bed, grabbing a well worn pair of work trousers and a tank top, accompanied by boots, tossed them on, and then rushed out the door. The morning air had a cool bite to it, but it refreshed her freckled face, and put a skip into her step. She hummed to herself as she rounded the corner to a fenced in chicken coop, where a brilliant red rooster was crowing on top of the barn. “Hello!” she said. “Yes, good morning!”

Startled to be addressed, the rooster stared at her curiously, then flapped its wings and dropped down to the ground, pecking at her boots. “We all heard you, I know,” she said, scratching its back. “The ladies must think you’re a real charmer, with a voice like that!”

She picked up a bag of feed with both arms, then wandered inside the chicken coop, where a small brood of hens were beginning to stir. She sprinkled the feed at her feet, and all at once, the hens came flapping out, clucking and pecking eagerly at the ground. While they were preoccupied, she grabbed a basket on a hook and began gathering the eggs from the nests, still warm.

With a full basket of brown and white eggs, she trotted out of the coop and around to enter the front of the house, where her mother was reading a book at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Peaches,” she greeted, eyeing the basket. “Good, you’re up and at ‘em early.”

“Morning, Mama!” Peaches set the basket of eggs on the counter next to the sink. She brushed her pink hair away from her shoulders and tucked a strand behind her gently pointed ears. “Today’s going to be a good day. A couple of the chickens laid some extra eggs!”

Her mother chuckled, taking a sip of hot tea. “Well, that’s good--take an extra for yourself, and the rest will go to the marketplace.”

Peaches set aside a couple eggs, sliding the rest to the side, while anticipation bubbled in her throat. The marketplace would be busy today, with caravans coming in from the coast, looking to buy and trade. “Say, Mama,” she started, slowly grabbing a pan from the cabinets above. “Do you think I could hop on a caravan to Porcelain City today?”

She was greeted with silence. When she turned around, her mother’s eyes were still fixed on her book. “I’ve told you this before,” she said. “You can go once all of the work is done on the farm.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Right…”

“So, once you feed all the animals--”

“Mmhm.”

“--and water all the crops, and harvest them--”

“Yeah…”

“--and help Dad mill the wheat, and milk the cows, and take our stock to the market, and gather water from the river…and have the funds necessary.” Her eyes snapped up from her book. “Then you can go.”

Peaches frowned a little to herself, sparking a fire beneath the stove grate to heat her pan. “O-okay,” she said. “I should…have almost enough money saved from working nights.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “There is a lot to see out there. But to me, there’s nothing more satisfying than a hard day’s work.”

Sizzling eggs in the pan, she tilted her head back and forth. I guess so, she thought. She did enjoy working with the land, and the strength it gave her. Turning back to look at her mother, she watched as she flexed her hands, pain written in her brow. Mama worked too hard, and now she can’t even plant a seed without her hands or her back aching. Enchanted salves help a little, but she’s getting older. That’s why I do so much.

They met eyes, and Peaches’ mother snapped her book shut. “You’re a great help for us, sweetie,” she said. “We really appreciate it. You’ll get to go to the city someday, okay?”

Peaches managed a smile. “I’m looking forward to it, Mama.”

Her mother stood up, kissed her cheek, then left the kitchen through the front door. Someday, Peaches thought, her eggs beginning to burn. It’s okay. I’m a good help on the farm. I get to see lots of different people in the market and the inn every day. It’s okay.

She took a very deep breath. It’s okay. Today’s going to be a good day. There’s already so much to do. Letting it out slowly, she flipped the eggs on the pan, just brown on the whites. “And I’m not burning my breakfast!” she asserted with a firm nod.

Peaches plowed through her eggs with gusto, then jogged back outside to attend to her work. She milked the four brown cows in adjacent barn, made sure they had enough hay, as well as some attention before letting them into the fenced yard. The sheep and goats needed to be fed, but not sheared quite yet. The weather was still warm, and their wool was growing in slowly. Then, it was off to the garden to pick what crops were ripe.

Tomatoes were in season, growing taller than ever before this year, and as she plucked the reddest ones, she was greeted by her father with a kicking goat in his burly arms. “Hon, you have to shut the gate when you leave!” he called. “This guy was ready to head to the market!”

“Oh! Sorry, Daddy,” Peaches replied. The goat had a black spot over its right eye, and she recognized it instantly. She pursed her lips and pointed. “Of course it’s you! Troublemaker!”

The goat bleated in protest, kicking its back legs, but her father easily held it still against his chest. “Will you go down to the river today to get some water for these tomatoes?” he asked. “I think that’s why they’re so tall. It’s better than the well water we’ve got, it has to be.”

The sun was getting high in the sky, and Peaches was already starting to sweat. “Okay!” she chirped. The riverside was down over the hill, through a short trail, and off another rocky hillside. Going down was easy, but coming up with two full buckets of water was less so. Nonetheless, she dropped her tomato basket where she stood, and rushed inside to her bedroom. Underneath her bed, she drew out a soft, white cloak. It was short, complete with a hood that had pointed “ears” hand stitched to the top.

The window of her bedroom opened, startling her enough to drop it in her lap. Her father poked his head through the open window. “What are you doing?” he asked, then his eyes dropped to her hands. “You don’t need that every time you go outside.”

Peaches pouted. “Just in case!” She whirled the cloak around her shoulders and tied it around her neck in a little bow.

Her father shook his head. “You look silly.”

“It’s enchanted!” She ran her finger along the edge, gaining speed, and when she let go, a little pink spark flew off the fabric. “So, it’s for protection.”

With a roll of his eyes, he withdrew from the window, and Peaches huffed as she pulled the hood over her head. She scrambled to her feet, footsteps heavy as she bounded back outside to catch him. “Dad…”

“I don’t even know why you have that thing,” he grumbled. “You don’t need magicks around here.”

The way he said magicks was thick and foreign, and it made her face hot. “M-maybe, but we’re still geminae, blessed by the great dragon!” She snapped her fingers in front of her soft pink eyes, and a plain white spark flickered in her hand.

Her father paused. His thinning hair was a faded mauve compared to her bright pink, and his eye color had dimmed to match. His posture slumped as he looked out onto the horizon, stroking his beard. “Well, that ain’t how it is around here,” he muttered. “You know that. That’s all just fairy tales.”

Peaches tried desperately to reign in the disdain bubbling in her chest. Years ago, she would have turned this into an argument--the dragon was real! It’s not a fairy tale, that’s why we all have freckles, and matching eyes and hair. Twin features. She was wiser now, and instead, pulled her hood up over her head and grabbed two buckets at the edge of the garden. “I know, Dad,” she said.

The Behill outskirts were mostly fields on the northern side toward the river, slopes with some rockier edges the further one headed down. Dad is still stuck in his ways, and so is Mama, Peaches thought, focusing on her feet so she didn’t tumble on the downhill trek. How can someone say things like that, when the proof is right in front of you? With all the people coming through the market, of all shapes and sizes…

Other geminae scholars and wizards from the far north, draconae from the northeast, and sometimes an orterra caravan from the west…

It’s just so much more colorful.

She paused to look around her--the blue sky overhead, the rushing river below her, the gently swaying fields of grass on either sides. There’s beauty here, of course there is. And I’m happy here…when I’m busy. But there’s some part of me that just wants to get up and go. Maybe if I weren’t obligated to stay, I wouldn’t feel so stirred up.

Peaches reached the riverside, and she knelt down at the rocky shore, hugging her knees to her chest. “Maybe someday,” she said to herself. “But not today…”

The water glittered, and with a little “hup!”, she hoisted herself up and took off her shoes, wading about ankle deep into the cold river. It was sharp and refreshing, and despite its chill, she walked carefully, feet memorizing every rock beneath them. She stopped to dip one bucket in, digging her toes into the gravelly sand, when she felt something…odd.

Hm?

She looked down. Instead of sinking steadily as she grinded her foot beneath the sand, she had stopped on a smooth surface. She took one step back, pivoted to set her bucket of fresh water down closer to the shore, then wobbled back over to examine further. “What’s this?” she said, bending over. Very carefully, she used her bare feet to pull back the sand, the current helping as well.

Rippling beneath the surface, Peaches saw a patch of gold.

It was a smooth patch, with a rivet straight through the middle. She bent over and clawed at the metal with both hands. With a little hoist, it burst free of the gravel below, although she didn’t expect the length as she dug it out. “Oh, Gods!” she exclaimed. “A sword?!”

The sword was gold from tip to hilt, and easily half the size of her, if not longer. Its blade was simple, even with the brilliant gold finish, but the guard was embellished with orange stones and engraving on each side. The grip was leather, even if soaking wet, and even the pommel had a single, orange stone. It’s beautiful, she thought. Who would bury this in the river bed?

She held it in both arms, as if she were carrying a baby sheep, and backed out of the river, setting it on the shore next to her buckets. Wow, I can’t believe it. A sword in the river, like old fairy tales! Giddiness spread in her chest, and she skipped as she hastily slopped water in the buckets. Something like this is priceless. Maybe it’s even enchanted!

Carefully balancing her water buckets in the creases of her arms, she picked up the sword and balanced it between both arms, careful how the blade rested against her biceps. Although…I might want to be careful, she thought, slipping back into her boots. Dad will take this straight to the blacksmith to try and sell it. I’m sure it would catch a good price…and with that money, they could hire someone to help on the farm, and then I’d be able to leave and travel.

But…

She paused in her footsteps, and looked over her shoulder. In the forest across the river, she swore she could have seen yellow eyes staring at her. Just for a moment, and then they were gone.

I think I should hold on to it, Peaches thought, swallowing hard. Just…a feeling.

Despite the arduous trek uphill, with two water buckets and a sword, she kept her focus as she rounded the bend to her farm. It was very important that she didn’t garner attention. She was also aware that the gold sword shined like a beacon in her arms underneath the sun, but she took it in stride. So, where are they…

There was no one at the garden, giving her time to drop off the water buckets. This way, she could carry the sword in a more sensible matter, tucked close to her chest. She strained her ears for her parents. Come on, where are you guys? I’ve gotta make a run for my room…

Then, she heard her father’s voice. “Zinnia?” It was coming from the far side of the barn. “Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Yes, hon.”

The door to the kitchen opened and shut, and while Peaches strained to try and watch, all the sign she needed was for her mother to take the route on the other side, not coming around toward the garden. Yes! Perfect! With that set, Peaches scuttled around the garden, between the fence and into the door to her room, where she slammed the door behind her. Success!

Her trials weren’t over yet--the sword still gleamed somehow, and if her father poked his head through her window again, it would be easily spotted. She grabbed the blankets from her bed and wrapped the sword up in them. It took two, mismatched in length to cover the whole thing top to bottom, and she tucked it into her bed, placing the guard neatly beneath her pillow. She took a couple steps back, eyes on the bed, just to make sure. Looks perfect. Nothing unusual here.

Okay, back to work!

She twirled around on one toe, then bounded back outside, immediately hit with the smell of pollen and grass.

“Emgni veitrer? Or…fuoy kna hts’se rtsim wenon silarevr etsam.”

Peaches tripped forward, whipping her hair around as she glanced back toward the house. “Mama?” she called. No, that wasn’t her voice. What was that? It almost sounded like a song.

“I’m in the hen house,” her mother replied back.

It must’ve been the wind. “Okay!” She jogged past the garden, humming the melody of the song. Before she could think too much about it, she had already forgotten the words.