Ohhh GOD. XD
I used to have this medieval thing going.
It was just... bad.
I was eleven though, so shut up.
THE CHILL AIR WHIPPED LYMANCEON’S hair around his face as he was paraded through the streets of Carova, capital city of Mordakre, and home of the king, Shanag. The angry crowds hissed and shouted insults as he passed, but he made no sign of anger or humiliation. He tripped over a stone on the path and stumbled, but the guard caught him, shoving him forward roughly with a kick.
It was only hours before that he had been riding towards the city, pursued by several of the king’s guards. He was the man responsible for revolting, resulting in a ten-year long war that ravaged the kingdom and the land surrounding it. Even the common people despised him for the state they were in now, although deep down, even they knew it had been none of his doing. Indeed, they had been eager enough to revolt, Shanag was not a gracious king, nor a gentle one. Everyone had once hated their leader as they now hated Lymanceon.
A voice was calling his name, a voice that he knew well, having heard it every day throughout his childhood. “Lymanceon! Lymanceon!” Sorhan, his sister, called. “Lymanceon! Don’t tell them anything! Don’t...!” Guards were holding her, too, and one cuffed her on the side of the face.
“Get your hands off my sister!” Lymanceon croaked, voice nearly gone from disuse and lack of drink. The guard behind him kicked him again, and he nearly tripped once more. As he was half-dragged along, he could her Sorhan sobbing, somewhere in the crowd behind him.
Soon the mighty gates of the castle rose into view. It was a magnificent sight, but gave Lymanceon no thrill, nor any hope. As they waited for the massive gates to open, Lymanceon could clearly hear a group of noble women tittering. He knew that he was considered quite handsome by many, but cared not a bit. His heart now lay in freedom for his people, freedom from this tyrant Shanag, who had lured them to his side with promises of wealth and prosperity.
He held his head high as he was lead into the immense throne room. Shanag sat on a luxurious solid gold throne backed against the opposite wall. The guards led him down a long red carpet laid from the door to the throne, as another laughing crowd, Shanag’s advisors and court, mocked him loudly.
Yet, when he reached the throne, there was silence.
“So… at last the great Lymanceon is a guest in my halls,” Shanag laughed. “Oft I have dreamed of such a thing.”
“I’ll bet you have!” Lymanceon spat. But the king only smiled condescendingly. “Has our hero fallen so low as to attempt to trade petty insults with his king?”
October 20th, 2007 at 01:24am