The Forgotten Rogue

Prologue: Forgotten Rogue Rewritten

Disclaimer!! Hey readers. Soooo.  After writing the first version of this book and reading it...Firstly, let me apologise.  It sucked. I can't believe some of you actually enjoyed it.  My writing style has improved...I hope... I rushed through the book and didn't spend enough time on plot building or even character building as a matter of fact. It was more a spur of the moment type of book. Soooooo, moving on.  I am currently, slowly, working on the new version.  I have a whole new idea for the rogues and why they are enemies of Chayr.  Some cool fantasy themed details coming in as well. This time the plot actually has a detailed plan it's going to follow.  So without further a due...Enjoy.  

WARNING!!! There aren't a lot of new chapters published at the moment. If you want to risk it, you can read the old version first.  But, you have been warned.

The soft whimper echoed through the entirety of the small attic as it fell from Emeric's trembling lips. It was hard to believe that a simple sound, so soft, so small, could be drowned in such overwhelming despair. A despair so heavy that the wooden boards under the young boy seemed to groan with the anguish he felt.

Why? The thought hurt like the dull ache that had claimed the boy's young heart.

Trembling, he pressed one eye to the small crack between the rough boards. A passage to another world. A world that had once held all that he loved, that had been his safety, but now, gazing through the bridge he saw two different realities. Down below his feet, his world was burning. Flames licking at everything that he had once touched, everything that he had known. But the flames meant nothing to him as his head turned white with terror. Smoke burned his eyes and heavy tears pulled a glossy glaze over all that he saw, but he didn't close them. He couldn't bring himself to.

There was so much blood.

Too much blood. More than what he thought there could be. Than there should be. No one tells you how much humans bleed. No, that you only truly understand when you see it, smell it, and feel the weight of death fill the room.

He couldn't think. His head filling with nothing but the white noise of pumped adrenaline and blind terror that seemed so instinctual that his sense of self almost disappeared completely. He wanted to scream, run down and flail wildly at the injustice, to bleed instead, to die instead. But the waves of emotions that crashed inside escaped as nothing more than mist. Another whimper echoed through the small attic as he watched the lifeless body drowning in a pool of blood.

He choked at the air, mouth opening in a silent screams as heavy tears trailed down old paths down his pale cheeks. The sight made his gut roil uncomfortably, not with disgust, but because of the unbearable weight of grief that came over him at the treacherous sight.

"D..." He tried speaking, but his words couldn't form past the growing lump of fear that lodged itself in his throat. He shut his eyes tightly, tears spilling over the edge as he tried to forget. But despair is a cunning beast, not easily deterred not easily comforted. He drove his forehead against the rough wood until the skin was raw but still the pain could not relieve the emotions tearing at his chest. He looked away and all but clawed at his eyes as he tried to forget what had been done, but like a curse, it floated in front of him, never fading. Scorched into his mind with the smouldering emotions of terror. He didn't want to see it, but the deepest part of his being resided in anguish at the clear memories.

Why? The question echoed in his head, drumming in his ears. No part of him could fathom why this had happened. He couldn't fathom the great evil that harboured so deeply inside of people.

"D..." He tried again, with little success. The sandpaper walls of his throat stung each time he tried talking. He breathed heavily trying to break free from the trembles that rocked his whole frame. "Da-" Another wet choke escaping through his clamped throat, "Daddy!" He cried, the words finally forming. Silence shattering, the words echoed in the cramped space of the attic. The pain from his own voice rocked through him in waves, reminding him again and again of how much it hurt, of how much he was feeling. He couldn't stop the racking cries that followed. His whole body, small as it was, shook with the retched emotions that coursed through him. It was too much, too many emotions flooding him, so much that it burned in his chest and filled his head with the sensation of drowning. The horror of it all just too much to stomach.