"From the ever colossal wake of those upturned peaks lies the Barren Corridor, steps upon steps, their trails forever frozen in time, a grim remainder for an ancestral slumber for all travelers. The memories of them, of their long forgotten shadows, ever present in our daily devotion of carved holt and uttered whispers."
Those trails, the hopeful shadows of that primordial time, they went; no sight of the real heaven of earthly heritage and right.
Still... they went.
And the price for that, to be frostbitten by time; for them, they rather decry their shrieks, deep within and away than to be gnawed by the crawling mandibles of the false skies.
The usurper heavens and its overlords screeching heavily their foul winds against the Haunting of the peak less mountaintops which are the Evermore Pillars.
-Anonymous, the Newcomer Tales-
A FREEDMAN OF THIS STRAIT
-"The whispers got them."-
As the saying went, they saw an entire family was dragged out of their home, their hairs were pulled and some of their skulls got cracked by the heel of a boot from the Riverguard.
Their faces plummeted down to the ground, now smeared by mud and in their own blood, one of them, barely alive, looked up for help, she saw the crowd, their faces indifferent for many reasons.
She noticed that her hair was dripped in a noble color of blood, her eyebrows raised in a prideful glee.
The only help that she could find, was a rascal clustered in between the crowd, the boy's silent cries were of a boiling anger.
ROJER THE RASCAL
-"The sound, that thud, I can't."-
The boy ran way.
One last breath, she was about to do, but suddenly was blessed by the breath from the endless mountaintops, where her ancestors lie, in the depths of the Barren Corridor.
Then she saw something beyond, and with her final smile, the rooftops of her home cracked by a thunderclap, and the rain drown out the remaining cries from the crowd.
She was gone, the crowd left in hurried shadows, but the tears of that woman and her family were as infinite as the flooded cobblestones, never washed away by these current times of ancient grudges.
Casimiro as he ran, the drenched cobblestones in rainwater, revealed his ghoulish appearance of a pauper kid, his tattered clothes of greenish color reminded him of his near and far away home.
He was guilt driven.
Ever so faithful to the hearing of a certain message, coming from the Imperial Consulate, his father never told him the true purpose of the certain message. He simply knew his son will obey him always.
The boy failed... one way for the message to be relayed, was slipped up in an erroneous way of a payment.
And somewhere in another time of the dreary day, Rojer muttered, biting down his lips in a hurry, beckoning in his mind of what he could have done to his past, but of course, a young boy like him lacked the power, riches and the will to do it.
It was too damn obvious, just by looking up.
The fortress, its many claws were rising high, its iron towers always fuming an ever darkness of vengeance, the very thing got the notion of the commotion down below and sent the Riverguard down to every block, searching and silencing any spreaders of radical rumors.
For the Imperial Visit has arrived, with its very own mechanized division anchored nearby and in this very moment, auditing their own humble consulate.
Any utter or dark whispers of princely nature that is the Evening Star, that would reach to the Imperials; the chance of a stronghold of an imperial embassy, would be gone, along with any privileges or secret benefits for the masters of this walled up city.
The Riverguard had already rounded up the undesirables and rest of the citizens were already too sudden in their silence.
The Imperials of Kamelung are already suspicious, only a few radicals were evicted and arrested; they knew, they were near the beating power that is far in the east but in the middle of the world, where the Evening Star, the Dark Prince awaits his time to reclaim everything by right and ancestral power.
In every corner of any land, the words of a child, were the prayers of grand and terrible adventures about the Warlock Prince and his merc-companions, now Marshals of the Principality of Evenfall.
What the Rascal didn't know, that the Imperials had received not a message, but an offer by someone he knows.
For now, the Riverguard don't know of this.
The imperial-covert order has been issued, the search has begun.
The worldly members of SABER are looking for someone, who is heading due West.
Each boat passing by, even the run downed ones, were inspected, every day.
And the Rascal, aware of the rundown, in a rush, he bargains and sells on the boat, while awaiting for the arrival of his father whose still there, near and watchful.
Like someone from the iron towers, who was staring down the docks and the Strait.
YOU ARE READING
CORAZÓN AGUIJÓN (Crónicas de los Infra-Reinos) by DeLeon Cortes A.
Fantasy"The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction" -William Blake-
