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This work is going to be a big chunk of my grade for my upper-level English class. If you post constructive feedback you can enter my raffle. The winner will get to choose a pet from this group.
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This story has been edited to be PG-13.
Edited areas will have author notes or a '*' signifying the text has been altered. They may seem a bit funky or out of place.
Warning:
There is death and mention of death in this story. There are characters that are not heterosexual in this story.
- Liebesdorf (NEED SUGGESTIONS or Votes)
Prologue
- Before the Earth was engulfed in nuclear radiation and swallowed up by the wrath of mankind, the world’s best scientists came together during what they considered to be the quiet before the storm. With war looming over them, they completed only one vessel that would be humanities only chance of preservation. A colony of people was herded onto the advanced spacecraft, along with a several horses and companion animals. They traveled through the galaxies to a new world, and a fresh start for humankind.
A/N: Name pronunciations in order of appearance:
- Lotte: Law-tea | Chaya: Hi-ya | Björn:Be-yorn | Erwin:Er-Vin | Alys: Al-lease.
Part One Excerpt
- It was the last night of Erntedankfest, the harvest festival that took place each year and brought nearly every village on the eastern side of the Rēnos river together. Fathers would bring their daughters of age, encouraging them to dress their best and search for a noble suitor who they could live a comfortable with. Traders barreled in on wagons from all over to exchange goods and gather crops for the upcoming cold months. Musicians played on instruments made from the horns of goat-like creatures, and ceramic rattles carved into badgers, owls and foxes. Folks danced around town square, tall oiled streetlamps projecting twirling shadows on the walls of surrounding buildings.
It all took place in Zartlesdorf, the biggest town I had ever laid my eyes on. My father was somewhere amongst the masses, selling clothes we created together out of the wagon we traveled here on. As his only son, I knew one day I would have to fill his shoes, but in the meantime, I could enjoy the festival with his blessing. I frowned down at the tunic I wore, the faded red dye signifying I wasn’t anything important. It was a common color extracted from madder roots found back home, and nearly everywhere else.
“Lotte!”
At the sound of my name I searched the crowd, smiling when my eyes landed on my best friend Chaya. Her chocolate brown hair fell to her back in ringlets. I noticed right away that she was wearing her favorite dress, one I had worked on myself. The pale pink bodice clung to her perfectly. The skirt flared elegantly with each step she took.
“Chaya, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“Yeah, well I’m here now,” she crossed her arms and my smile fell.
“I’m guessing your father told you to ‘look for a nice young man’ again?”
“As always.”
Chaya and I had grown up together. We knew everything about each other. I knew her father was an angry man. I knew her mother had a broken mind after seeing her friend die giving birth to me. And Chaya knew it wasn’t a lack of love when my father wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
I sighed, peering up at the night sky littered with thousands of stars.
“We aren’t twenty until another spring. You have plenty of time.”
“And what about you,” Chaya questioned.
“Let me worry about that.”
We sat together on a bench for some time, enjoying the rare chance to listen to music, we spoke idly about the harvest that year and my apprenticeship under my father. I was just about to ask her for ideas for my next painting when her hazel eyes lit up and I knew she saw him.
He looked different wearing something outside of his usual blacksmith attire. Uncharacteristically clean, and wearing a fine-stitched green tunic. Provided with the material, my father and I were commissioned to create the pricey garment. It was not something we would likely ever see in our own wardrobes.
Chaya’s father may have wanted her to attend the festival in search of someone of higher status to spend her life with, but wealth was not something she cared for. And much to her father’s fury, she was already in love with another. The blacksmith’s son, Björn.
“Go on. Go dance with your ‘prince charming’.” I teased. She sent me a scowl as she stood but her face was red with embarrassment rather than anger when she strode off.
Left alone in a crowd I decided to walk around and look for inspiration for my next painting. An art that was sadly almost forgotten. I was browsing souvenirs laid out by merchants when I first saw the man that would destroy my life.
He was smiling. A warm smile and handsome face that would fill anyone with trust. His hair was a platinum blond not seen often as I’m told it once was, when hair dye was a product bought and sold in big-business marketplaces. There was a swarm of people around him talking and laughing happily. I couldn’t look away. I wasn’t entranced by his charming grin or rare features, but instead the heavy purple cloak that was buttoned around his collar. The fabric was dyed beautifully and new. I had never seen purple garments except those which were long faded from the backs of our ancestors. Purple wasn’t a dye many people could easily get their hands on. My stare landed back on his face, he looked around my age if not a bit older. I let my eyes linger too long and awkwardly ended up making eye-contact with the man. I looked away first, and tried to walk away in an embarrassed hurry. After only a few steps I felt a hand land on my shoulder.
“What’s the rush?” The low voice didn’t sound like it came from the same owner as that warm smile.
“Nothing.” I paused, quickly thinking of an excuse before turning to face the man. “I was just going to get a drink.”
“Oh? So was I,” he grinned, gesturing to a nearby wagon with barrels of ale in the back.
I took him up on his offer to buy my drinks that night. He might have been flirting with me. I might have been imagining it. The night went on and the man, who introduced himself as Erwin, asked me to dance. When I declined, something unsettling flickered across his features and disappeared just as quickly.
“Will you come with me to the paddock?” The inquiry struck me as odd, but I nodded. He took my hand and led me through the crowd, as if I were going to slip away in the sea of people.
The music was but a low hum when we reached the wooden fencing surround the paddock. Dozens of horses roamed within the enclosure, feeding on hay and their fill of water before the trip that would come the following day for most of them.
“I want you to meet Alys.” Erwin climbed over the fence and walked pointedly towards a silhouette that must have been Alys. I leaned heavily against the fence, standing straight when he led the horse to where I stood. She was beautiful, with fur white as snow. I wondered if I could dip a paintbrush in her milky white mane and put it right to a canvas. Long braids twisted down over her shoulder, decorated with delicate purple bows. I could see why he wanted to introduce me to the stunning animal.
“She is gorgeous.” I extended a hand slowly and smiled when the mare let me pet her. The night air was growing cold and my worn burlap cloak was doing little to shield me from the chill. I didn’t realize I was shivering.
“Are you cold?”
“I’m fine.” I lied, smoothing the fur along Alys’ muzzle. She snorted as if even she could see past my fib. Erwin stood thoughtfully for a moment, giving Alys a final pat before climbing back over the fence.
“Here.”
Before I could object, Erwin draped his cloak over my shoulders.
“This is-“ I tried to protest.
“Yours now.” He smiled, and it was clear he would not take no for an answer. Instead of arguing I fastened the buttons of the cloak and mumbled my thanks. No one ever said I wasn’t awkward.
We were walking back to the heart of the festival when Erwin broke the silence, pausing to face me.
“Lotte,”
“Yeah?”
“We might not see each other again after tonight.” He stated simply, smiling when I stood silently. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
The question surprised me, and I was thankful for the shadows of the night that masked my face. I could hardly get the words out without stuttering.
“Yeah, okay.”
He kissed me then. It was surprisingly soft, chaste.
“I hope we meet again.” He said. I hoped we would too.
The next dawn, I woke up in the back of my father and I’s wagon, our makeshift bed during the festival. My headache and the warm cloak surrounding me the only proof the night before had happened.
“Lotte, come help me.” My father’s tired voice called from the front of the covered wagon. I motivated myself to get out of bed and headed out to help him hook up the horses. The bonfire had died down to a few stubborn embers, but the air was still heavy with the smell of fire. Town square was ghostly compared to the night prior. Almost everyone had left with their wagons or on the backs of their horses.
I was finishing bridling the horses when I spotted Chaya leaving the town’s Inn with her parents. They had the luxury of not having to sleep in the back of the carriage they road in on. I waved to her and she smiled happily while returning the gesture. My father climbed up to his seat at the head of the wagon, he never questioned the cloak I wore.
“Let’s head home.”
As we rode into Liebesdorf around nightfall I took comfort in the familiar surroundings. Livestock in the pastures grazed while their young lay sleepily in the grass. Villagers were settling in for the night, plucking their sun-dried laundry off clotheslines, closing their shutters, and herding their children inside.
My father and I unloaded our wagon and I settled the horses in the village barn for the night. I decided I would start my painting before bed while the memories were their freshest. The cotton canvas stretched tightly around its frame, held upright by an easel my father bought for me one holiday.
Yellow, tan and blue paints crafted from safflower, roots and berries brought the once blank canvas to life. I worked hours into the night. When I was too weary to continue, I tilted my head and examined the piece. Erwin’s likeness looked back at me, but it felt like something was missing. I cleaned up the mess I had made and headed to bed, determined to fix the painting another day.
It had been a few short weeks since the festival, and in that time the air had grown colder. On days when I wasn’t tailoring commissions with my father, I would walk out of Liebesdorf into the neighboring forest and collect madder roots and other durable paint ingredients that would become scarce in the winter months.
It happened on one of those days.
I had found some wild berries and deemed them good enough to eat. For a while I sat on a tree stump and just enjoyed my time off from work, even though that meant less business was coming in. When I started back towards home I saw something sickening in the distance.
The sky above Liebesdorf was full of the thick smoke you only see when buildings are burning. My heart dropped. I left the supplies I had gathered and ran as fast as I could, my cloak billowed behind me. I had to get home and see what was happening. My mind filled with dread at the thought of what I might find, and the people I loved.
My worst fears were actualized when the village came into view. Buildings were engulfed in flames and there was terror in the streets. Men and women alike were fighting. I saw Björn among them, a sword in hand. *People lay on the ground. It was absolute chaos. A flash of purple caught my eye, and for a moment everything stopped. Erwin.
Alys thundered with grace through the mass of villagers, shaffron armor shielding her face. Her white fur was stained with red. Erwin was seated on her back, donning a new purple cloak and a sword in his hand caked with blood. The face that had been so friendly and warm at Erntedankfest was now cold and monstrous.
I ran through the mass of people engaged in combat, barely evading swords slicing through the air. I had to find my dad. When my house came into sight I felt thankful that it was not in flames. That feeling of gratefulness was knocked out of me when I got closer. A body lay crumpled on the ground, my father’s ashy grey hair was matted. *-lines omitted-*
“No!” The mayhem surrounding me was a distant buzz as I found myself at my father’s side. His face looked so tired. *-lines omitted-* I grabbed one of his hands and held it tightly. Maybe if I wouldn’t let go, he wouldn’t leave me.
“Lotte.” His voice was so hoarse I was sure I was imaging it, but his eyes blinked open and I knew he wasn’t gone. Not yet.
“Dad.” My eyes burned hot with tears as they started to fall. His eyes found mine and a small smile crept onto his face.
“You have your mother’s eyes.”
That was the last thing my father said to me.
I don’t know how much time had passed when I felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder.
“Lotte. Lotte can you hear me?” Chaya’s soft voice spoke as if she were speaking to a cornered animal. Chaya. She was okay. I lifted my head from where I had been resting it against my father’s chest.
Liebesdorf was silent. The raiders were gone. Ash fell silently through the air as the villagers worked at clearing the debris and the dead from the streets. *-omitted lines-* Chaya embraced me in a tight hug, I could hear her weeping quietly.
That night, the air was heavy with grief. Chaya offered to stay with me, but I wanted to be alone. And I didn’t want her father or Björn to get the wrong idea. I found myself lying in my bed staring absently at the ceiling. My eyes drifted over to the easel still holding Erwin’s portrait, and anger consumed me. I got out of bed and grabbed my canister of madder root paint, letting out a scream as I hurled it threw the air.
It splattered against Erwin’s smiling face and sent the canvas to the floor. Red stuck to his hair and bled down his face. His smile looked more like a maniacal sneer. And finally, the painting looked right. I clenched my fists tightly and glowered down at the painting. At that moment, I decided.
I was going to get revenge. *edited last line*
- Thank you very much for any feedback, suggestions, grammatical errors pointed out etc. ♥
Also please note it is okay if you thought it was awful, the criticism doesn't have to be all positive and it will not affect your chances in the raffle.
- Users entered in the raffle:
- Stormwarden
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- Winner will be chosen via random.org website.
Title Ideas:
• I Won't Stop
• Bloodshed
• That Smile
• Reset
• He Will Burn /or He Will Fall
