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A fantasy short story.
My name is Kristen Karlson, I am a 17 year old Australian and i love to write. email me to chat at Kristenkarlson@hotmail.com
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (8)
A Broken Love (Poetry) A poem about love, dependance and loss. I'd really like to know what you think...this is one of my first poems. [236 words] [Relationships]
A Last Goodbye (Poetry) A poem about the effects of heart-break..please take a look... [118 words] [Relationships]
It Begins (Short Stories) This is the first part of a suit of stories "The temptation" is the second part. Please take a look. [3,133 words] [Mystery]
Last Mistake (Short Stories) A mysterious woman seduces married men then blackmails them. It's supposed to have itallics...but it screwed up..please let me know what you think [1,574 words] [Drama]
Sword From Heaven (Short Stories) A series of interconnected stories about the forms and consequences of power. [7,754 words]
The Light (Poetry) - [49 words] [Spiritual]
The Temptation (Short Stories) This is just one part of a story I am currently writing, any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks. [1,238 words] [Drama]
White Silence (Short Stories) - [1,032 words] [Drama]
He sat on the waters edge alone, a mere silhouette against the quickly fading sun that filled the sky. Distant sounds floated on the air, the others, running and playing excitedly. He remained motionless, absorbed in his thoughts. He rarely ever joined in their games. Though only eleven winters old, he had demonstrated signs of intelligence higher than many of the ancient elders. Having been recognized at a very early age as a prime candidate to, in due course, replace The One, he had been in training for almost half his short life. He had learnt the history, traditions and customs of his people. He could speak both Braal, the tongue of the people and Syntaith, the sacred speech and could recite The Verse from memory. Though he was honoured and respected by most, he was not naïve enough to miss catching glimpses of the fearful looks in the eyes of passers by. All those who were passed the age of testing were able to sense the power within him. They could not help but feel threatened.
He remembered the day that Eldyth had come to his family home to take him to the temple, where he was to learn the ways of The One. Though his mother was upset, he could see the pride through her tears. He saw the honour he was bringing to the family and for this reason he voiced no objections and held back the tears that threatened to erupt violently and expose his act. Since that day he had not shed a single tear, his emotions had hardened like a second thick layer of skin and every day that he became closer to Completeness he felt himself numbing to all sensation.
He had always been told that he should be grateful for having the favour of The Divine. He realised he was lucky, but he could not help feeling as though he was trapped. He had not asked for this life, he did not choose this path. He had been robbed of the childhood which was rightfully his. Although he was given his own time, to act how he pleased, he could not play simple games as the other children did. Having learnt nearly all that Eldyth knew of the great world, he was no longer content with make believe worlds of thieves and princesses.
As a result, most of his time was spent at the waters edge contemplating his future and consciously blocking out the distant happy memories of his past. Having finished his lessons early, he had purposely made his way to his usual position; a lush green patch of soft grass, shaded perfectly at this time of day by a large overhanging tree. There he sat, his shoeless feet dangling inches above the eerily still water, small hairless creatures enticing the dark shapes of the deep. The soft sweet scent of the lotus flowers, floating elegantly on the pond’s tranquil surface eased his mind and he was suddenly overcome by a wave of weariness, the result of countless nights of sleepless contemplation. He was exhausted and felt like his small body could take the strain no more. He lay back and, wondering if he would ever have the energy to get back up again, he fell into a deep, unsettled sleep.
When he awoke the sun was gone, replaced by two large moons, glowing dully like the ominous eyes of the old night owl, casting ghostly shadows over the lake and its surroundings. A sudden thought crossed his mind and after rifling around in his pocket for some time, he produced a small crushed silk bag. As he lifted it a clinking metallic noise gave away its contents: three thick gold coins, his monthly allowance from Eldyth. Dropping two of the coins into his lap he held the third up to the little light being shed. It was surprisingly cool and smooth to touch, fitting perfectly in his small palm.
He stared at the flat surface. The cold emotionless stare of The One penetrated his mind, seeing straight through his forced calm exterior, to the doubt, the confusion, the torment beneath. He heard all the voices in his head, telling him to end his selfishness, to take responsibility and to follow the path that was chosen for him. A sudden emotion welled up in him, the unspoken anger of years of unquestioning obedience, the fear of failure, of disappointment and most of all the loss and excruciating sadness that had accumulated over time. Feeling his whole body shaking he got to his feet.
“I WON”T!” He screamed into the moonlit sky and picking up the three coins, he hurled them as far as he could into the centre of the vast lake. For a moment the light reflected on one of the coins and a split second image burnt into his eyes, the crescent moon and lotus flower, the symbol of his people, he had not had enough time to see the inscription under the emblem, but he knew what it said: Crossith, Dienth, Luno: Wisdom, Duty, Honour. Before he could even comprehend this, the coins broke the surface of the water and were gone, the small ripples spreading quickly across the surface, tiny tidal waves disrupting the colourful water beetles that danced on the surface. He sat back down, the three words running through his mind, over and over again. He knew he must continue this journey, that his people needed him, needed a leader. However he knew that he could not go on in this way, discarding all feeling.
There, crumpled against the large tree, he cried for the first time in years. He cried for his lost childhood, the years of innocent ignorance, not knowing, not understanding the harsh and cruel nature of the world and for the family that he would never know.
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"This is very evocative, quite sad. " -- Debbie Kean, Auckland, New Zealand.
"Thanks for the review Debbie, nice to know that it affected you" -- kristen.
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© 2005 Kristen Karlson
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