MYTH excerpt of new chapter 2
This wasn’t in the original chapter 1, which I am expanding into four chapters… It adds a bit more to Jax and the Aelphi as a whole. This is only a small snippet, not the whole chapter. This was written just a minute ago.
He stepped around Firan, grabbing his still moving, still fighting figures. His hand had to be stabbed by a small Goreatan dagger before he remembered they needed deactivating.
He took his highest authoritarian voice and filtered it through a hushed whisper.
They listened well. Of course, Firan’s creatures continued to attack. They knocked the Aelphi soldiers down and tried to bite into their hard, inorganic sides. They thought they were killing them. Apparently Firan had as well. He shot his hands into the air and gave a whooping yell of victory.
Jax turned to him.
“You’re so simple, Fir. We were already done!”
“No we weren’t, no we weren’t! I won! Your guys are all down and they’re not getting up!”
Jax breathed, like his father had taught him. He unclenched his hands and felt the heat spreading through his arms.
“We were already done, Firan. There was no winner, you started being an unenlightened before it was over.”
Unenlightened, it was a title that no Aelphi wished for. To be known as one of the species they had saved; to be seen as less than an Aelphi, that was unforgivable.
The general youth had desensitized themselves to it over the years, like they had with every insult that came before. Boys would call their friends unenlightened when they got a bad mark on a test. Girls would sneer it at a romantic rival or a sister who stole a ring.
Most of the time it was met with a shielding smile. Firan, however, felt the sting as if he had been the first one called it in spite. He barreled his fist deep in Jax’s stomach.
Jax’s green and orange hair fell into his face as he landed on the ground. His hair was important to him. Not because of its style, he always preferred to let it go unkempt and wild so there was nothing much that could ruffle the already ruffled.
It was the color that was important. It was the color that gave him his pride. It was, Jax had always thought, the reason he could never keep his friends. To have hair like his was to be given the gift of the Royal Flame. The meaning of which had been lost to antiquity but it was still celebrated as a sign of impeccable breeding. Jax was the most pure royal in his level at school.
It was a point of envy for almost everyone else, especially Firan, the boy with the high-bred eyes.
Jax’s breath caught as he scrambled to move and check the ground. He had heard and felt something heartbreaking.
Lieutenant Herth was sprawling over a small rock, crushed and torn to pieces from the weight of its owner’s fall. Beside him was Andial, nearly intact besides his arm which was in worse shape than Herth’s entire body.
Jax began to feel tears sear his eyes. He held his toys, his soldiers. He wasn’t new to the fact that they could break. He had even witnessed various ‘surgeries’ in which he and his friends would take their older models apart to see if they bled. But these were not forgotten and uncared for pieces of trash. These were new. These were important.
Andial had always been Jax’s hero. He had originally wanted the General Andial, a great statuesque work of art complete with the legendary golden armor and mask of the decorated war hero. It was god-like, second only to Lord Obeiron himself.
When this little Captain figure marched into his room one morning, he couldn’t help but to feel disappointment. This was less coveted, an homage to the man who led charges through the most hopeless battles and always succeeded. This was the cause to the General’s effect.
Jax knew he’d shown his displeasure. He could see it on his father’s face, the man who had received special permission to come from the front lines, the general who did everything in his power to involve himself in every one of his son’s birthdays. The man standing in the doorway, the one who had set the little Andial in motion, had shown early signs of being crestfallen
A deep sadness had come when he saw any guilt or sadness coming from the tall, barrel chested officer. He sent his selfishness away and grabbed the saluting soldier from the ground. He began to realize that he wasn’t in awe of the decorated General who barely saw the wars. He dreamed of being the Captain, leading the charge.
He adored his fah even more than the heroes that covered his room’s walls. He was the hero at home, when he was at home.
Tears fell from his eyes to his wounded figures. To see Herth and Andial like this was, to his childish mind, close to seeing his father in the same state. He could imagine him broken on the ground, writhing like these insentient animates were.
“I guess Captain Andial can lose… if a pompous ass falls on him.”
Firan’s laughter threatened to spread to the others standing around but they all saw Jax better than he could. They all saw the fire and the anger billowing through the tears of confused sadness.
He grabbed the nearest Jil monster and stood. He gripped it against its will as it clawed, bit and scratched, fighting to be released.
“Fir. Apologize. Tell me that your father is going to have them fixed.”
The other boy spat a startled laugh.
Jax turned and walked towards him, holding the Jil behind his back.
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
“I’m done talking to a common like you.”
Jax wasn’t angry any longer. Sniffing back the tears, he knew he wasn’t angry at Firan.
But he still needed to show him exactly what happens when you act in a way that betrays your station. They were both highbloods and pushing was below them.
Posted on 04/25/2011, in Excerpts, Myth, Myth, of Men and Monsters, of Men and Monsters, Projects, Updates and tagged aaron, errant, errant studios, fantasy, horror, literature, men, monster, monsters, myth, sci fi, shively, studios, thriller, updates. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.