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mango marmalade,, wrote:Username: mango marmalade,,
Name: Rury Messenger of the Gods
Gender: Male
Story:
I stepped into the throne quietly, making sure my steps were soft as to not interrupt the intense debate that was occurring in the room. The energy in the room was a burning, loud energy that threatened to explode any second, but I couldn’t take the chance of not delivering my assignment. Walking along the long carpet that made a path to the main throne, I took out my scroll so I would be ready when it was time to present my message. Reaching the end of the carpet, I quietly cleared my throat when I sensed a pause in the heated shouting. Bowing my head and taking a knee, I spoke.
“Greetings, Highest Gods. I seek permission to deliver a message from Princess Alia of the Badlands.”
I waited on the floor for the gods’ approval.
With an irritated voice, High King Cien spoke first.
“Permission granted, Messenger. State your message.”
I rose, then unrolled the scroll and began to read. The words had been hastily scribbled by the Princess, but I was used to reading the worst handwriting.
“High Gods, I come to plead that you grant my father freedom from the Golden Valley. He is being held hostage by the Strawmen and will be forced to give my hand in marriage in return for his freedom. Please, I seek help to avoid this terrible fate.” I take a deep breath, having pushed that out without stopping or pausing to breathe. The silence in the room is thick, and I can almost here the Gods communicating with each other. Although they may wait a bit before making their decision, it is custom to return a message as soon as you receive one, whether you have made a decision or not.
It is Lord Valiant that speaks first, addressing me.
“Please tell her that the gods will converse about this, and make a decision. We will return a message in… 3 moons.”
I nod briefly, taking out a fresh scroll and quill and quickly writing that down. I take a deep bow, my nose brushing the floor. After coming back up, I roll up the scroll and drop it into my satchel. The satchel itself is bottomless, having been enchanted by Madam Egret. I back up, still facing the throne, until I feel the wall behind me. Then turning, I quickly exit the large room and step onto the fluffy clouds surrounding the giant palace. The clouds harden beneath my feet, sensing I am not a mortal but a Viscet that has been accepted as a God's’ servant. I take a deep breath, then grab a small vial from the outside pocket in my bag. Downing it in one gulp, I wait for the potion to take effect. Then, after feeling the painful tingles that shot throughout my body, I begin to run to the edge of the cloud wall. Picking up speed, I brace myself for the drop as I run to the edge of the cloud floor and hurl myself off. My stomach drops for two seconds before I feel the potion catch me, making my body hover in the air. Diving downwards, I aim myself straight towards the Princess’ palace. After I land, I confidently stride forward and knock three times on the door. Preparing to speak once more, I give myself a pat on the back. Although I do it every day, it’s always an accomplishment when I talk to the Gods without getting myself incinerated. It’s a tough job being the Messenger, but somebody’s gotta do it, right?
[594*/500]
*Taking my extra words out of the extra.
Extras:
His breathing was heavy and frantic as he galloped across the open plain, dust flying out. The pack wrapped around his torso flapped out behind him. The thundering of hooves echoed behind him along with the vibrations of thousands of boots pounding on the dusty ground. But still he ran in a frenzied attempt to keep his life. He had no idea that above him, the Gods watched on, acknowledging his brave attempt to escape the brutes.
“So, do we think he’ll make it?” A female voice spoke.
A gruff voice spoke next. “Nah. He’ll definitely get crushed, or exhaust himself to death, lag behind, and wind up skewered.”
In a way, both Gods were right. The young ‘Cet, who had prevailed for so long, felt his strides falter. His limbs, which were already getting weak, collapsed, sending him tumbling across the ground. He made an attempt to push himself back up, but his arms buckled again and he lay in the middle of the desert, vision fading. In his final moments, Rury heard a voice.
“Because of your bravery, you have been granted the honor to live forever amongst the Gods as a Messenger, due to deliver scrolls.”
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