A Note From the Author...

I felt this chapter came along quite nicely. The emotion that I wanted to get into words seemed to flow the right way. It is hard to describe. However, I am beginning to realize that my writing style uses a bit too much detail and description. This is usually good for the fantasy genre, but if overdone, detracts from the flow of the story. The wonderful editors over at the Fiction Workshop on the Writer's Block channel of Discord have been a godsent to me. I feel it necessary to thank a few in particular: Hive account@carolkean, Hive account@rhondak, Hive account@bex-dx, Hive account@jrhughes and everyone else that make the Fiction Workshop a real writer's sanctuary. Cheers!

A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 11 PART 1

The wind brought the wailing to their ears , and the sudden reek of death assailed their noses.

Gill neighed and faltered. Tossing his head, he fought the bridle. The clinking of glass jars in the wagon added to the confusion. It took Lucia several minutes of soothing words before the old horse calmed. Lucia motioned for the children to climb down from the wagon as she stood next to Gill, gently running her hand down his side. For a moment, she stared in the direction of the city. The rolling hills blocked her view, but she had a good idea of what she was going to find there. She turned back to her children. Kyndra had covered her nose with both hands. Auryn’s dark eyes stared back at her. Thank the gods his eyes are back to normal.

“Auryn, help me unhitch the wagon. We need to get your sister back to the Primms. I’ll ride there myself with Kyndra while you watch the wagon. Hurry!”

She would have had Auryn take Kyndra there himself, but if one of his dizzy spells came upon him while riding…Better that he wait here for her return. Wordlessly, Auryn nodded and moved towards the wagon, but halted as his sister grabbed his hand.

“No, mother.” Kyndra’s words cut the growing tension around them. She turned toward the city and in a softer voice than normal she continued, “There is no time. We all have to go.” With that she let go of her brother and ran down the road.

“Kyndra! Get back here! Auryn, follow us as fast as Gill allows. We’re going to need every drop of Nana’s Blessing. Got it?” She didn’t wait for his response before chasing after her daughter. Thankfully, this stretch of the road had dried somewhat, making her footing less precarious. However, Kyndra still managed to stay a few paces ahead. What has gotten into her? The road inclined, climbing over the last hill that hid the city from view. Soon her daughter would be out of her sight.

“That’s enough, Kyndra. I need you to stop, now!” Perhaps the girl heard the desperation in her mother’s voice and finally acquiesced, but not before she reached the crest. A fetid wind blew Kyndra’s hair behind her. Both her little hands went to cover her face again. Whether to ward off the stench or express her dismay, Lucia couldn’t tell. She bounded up the hill, finally reaching her daughter and scooping her up in her arms. Kyndra’s gaze never faltered from what she saw in the distance. She merely pointed.

“Look, Mama.” Reluctantly, Lucia eyes followed her daughter’s arm.

Haverglenn sat upon the outskirts of the western-most section of the Three Cities. What had begun as an outpost to service outlying farms had become a moderately populated place of commerce. The Three Cities now relied heavily upon the western province to supply grain, produce, lumber and livestock. Runoff from the Myrr mountains as well as the R’leigh Ro river fed the fields, providing fertile farmland. However, traveling to the Three Cities was time consuming and many farmers could not afford the three-day journey to sell their crop, even if better prices were found there. Time was often more valuable on a farm and Haverglenn acted as a welcome intermediary.

The city had grown haphazardly with little organization. Cobblestones originally gathered from the Ro lined the streets, worn smooth over the decades. Red brick had begun to replace several sections of the streets lending a patchwork quality to the city. Log and brick homes intermixed with places of business. Often, they were the same building.

The town centered around a massive circular marketplace dominated by a nondescript greystone sculpture of a blacksmith wielding his heavy hammer upon an anvil—the symbol of the Trader’s Guild. Shops lined the edges of the plaza, but additional stalls and booths had been erected throughout to accommodate the hundreds that gathered daily to hawk their wares. Businesses that catered to travelers—inns, taverns, bathhouses, stables, suppliers and the like were found closer to the marketplace. Lampposts lined the marketplace and major thoroughfares. Lamplighter boys, employed by the Trader’s Guild, ran the streets at dusk and early morning facilitating trade even in the later hours. On any given day, the marketplace was a buzz with the cacophony of trade. Men and women bartered, hawkers shouted, children added their laughter and tears to the racket. All the while, the constant din of livestock reverberated in the background.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Now, much of it lay in ruins.

Outside the western entrance to the city, a vast encampment of makeshift tents had been erected. At first glance, Lucia thought some unknown army had found its way to the city and laid siege. But the lack of organization quickly ruled that out. That and the dead bodies. To the southwest of the city survivors were laying bodies side by side upon the ground. Most had been covered in cloth, yet even from this distance, dark crimson stains betrayed what lay underneath. Many of the more recent additions were left exposed.

Two shirtless and haggard men were pulling a rickety hand-cart through a weeping and howling crowd. A elderly woman followed behind them trying to reach into the back all the while weeping uncontrollably. The haulers stopped before a group of younger men dressed in the brown and black leathers of the City Guard. One of them proceeded to examine the contents of the cart while the other guardsmen held back the disconsolate throng of onlookers. Shaking his head, he gestured to the deceased and began scribbling something upon a ledger. The cart-haulers and other guardsmen began adding the cart’s burdens to the pile of dead. The old woman added her screams to the crowd while trying to press past the guards.

Across the road and to the northwest of the city a different kind of noise could be heard. Among the hundreds of disorderly makeshift tents, bedrolls, and cots came the moaning of the still-living. The injured far outnumbered the beds available. Many huddled together in whatever dry patches of earth they could find. Hundreds of people milled around and had set up camp along the north side of the road. Few were free from the brownish-red stains of mud and blood. Several grey-robed figures frantically weaved among the throng directing new arrivals and offering what aid they could.

“Oh, dear gods…” Lucia stared unblinking at the scene that spread before her. In all her years, she had not seen such destruction. In the distance, smoke and dust filled the air over what remained of the city itself. Many of the buildings she should have been able to see at this distance were gone.

“Mama, you’re squeezing me too hard.” Kyndra’s voice snapped her out of the shock that gripped her. Lucia let her slide back to the ground. Stooping to her daughter’s level, she cupped Kyndra’s face in her hands.

“Kyndra, you were right. There is no time to take you back now. These people need our help, Ineed your help. But for that, you have to stay close to me and do exactly as I say. I know you’re scared, Kyn. I’m scared too, but we’ll work through this together. No more running off, alright? Do you understand?” For a brief moment, Kyndra only stared back at her mother then gave an emphatic nod.

Lucia stood. “Good girl.”

The clinking of glass jars signaled Auryn’s approach. Dear gods, what am I thinking? I need to warn him. Too late. As she turned towards her son, she saw his dark eyes widen as he crested the hill leading the wagon. Gill stamped the earth and flared his nostrils but managed to keep his calm. Auryn stopped the cart short, taking in what Lucia and Kyndra had seen moments before.

“What…what happened? What is this…was there a battle?” The shock upon her son’s face melted away and was replaced by a firmness in his eyes. Lucia’s stomach knotted as she realized she’d seen a similar look on his face when he’d held Kyndra’s lifeless body in his arms. His voice took on a tone of urgency, “We have to hurry, mother!”

Worry made room for the pride she felt for her son now. She took a deep breath and nodded.

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Continue to part 2

Some Of My Work

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The Chronicles of Salen Kur’Savien -- A Prequel to A World Long Sundered

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Deep Dream Generations: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

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Sources 1 2