Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Prologue)


The sun’s intense glare beat down on the busy port, Perona. It was here that a merchant could find someone to buy his or her wares -- if anyone in Erelith would -- or that a mercenary could always find work. Though, most importantly, it offered immigrants a new chance at life. On a normal day, people would be milling about their own business, and Perona pertained a sort of natural chaos. However, that chaos paled in comparison to the riotous crowds that flooded the streets now. Soldiers held them back, to keep a lane free through the city streets.
At the docks, the commotion reached its peak as a hooded man -- the wind of the sea could not pull it back, try as it did -- stepped off a naval ship. His hands were bound behind his back, leaving him defenseless in the event that the rioters pushed through the soldiers. He kept his gaze down at his boots, avoiding the thousands of piercing glares. Walking right behind the man was one of the soldiers, a Sea Tiger. Usually, their legendary reputation would leave the citizens intimidated, but the fury that swept Perona made these marines little more than an obstacle.
“You’d be lucky if the crowd got to you first,” the Sea Tiger said, gripping the man’s shoulder. “We tore apart the realm looking for you. Wouldn’t be surprised if the General-Kings see it fit to let you rot in the Gaol of the Abyss. Perhaps the gallows are too good for you, eh?” Pushing the man into the narrow gap on the street, the Sea Tiger frowned when his words merited no response. “You are Holden d’Alnhart, are you not? The scout turned war hero?” When the man -- Holden -- nodded, the Sea Tiger lowered his voice. “Is it true, what they say about you? That you made an entire army surrender with a single arrow?”
“Use your head,” Holden replied, breaking his silence. He looked ahead to find a priest in robes -- blue and silver patterns gleaming in the light of day -- waiting for him. All he could feel past his sore wounds was gut-wrenching sorrow. Sorrow for dragging this on far too long. For getting so many people involved. For those who paid the price for it.
“Burn him!” Someone cried out. “Brand him a traitor and roast him alive!”
“He’ll roast in the Nine Hells,” the Sea Tiger retorted, with a grin. “It’s a shame that you would do something so stupid, after everything you went through, and accomplished. You served On’hino with undying loyalty, only to have ‘traitor and coward’ on your epitaph.”
“As long as they don’t add ‘liar.’” Holden stopped in front of the priest, his auburn eyes meeting a pair of vibrant green.
“Former Major Holden d’Alnhart, you arrive here as a fugitive of the law, thus you have been stripped of your rights, privileges and honors. You have been accused of the following crimes: conspiracy to overthrow, treachery, espionage, murder, evading the law, murder of your fellow soldiers, and regicide. May the gods have mercy on your soul. Do you acknowledge these accusations? If so, how will you plead, in front of all these people?” When Holden offered no immediate reply, the priest cleared his throat. “I said, how will you plead?”
“If they intend to cut my throat, then it’s best you listen closely.” Holden shook the Sea Tiger’s hand off of his shoulder. “I will tell you the truth, and part with you the knowledge I discovered in the time I hid as a fugitive.” The crowd went quiet as he continued. “I have one request, should you wish to hear my tale. I want the bodies of those selfless enough to partake in my endeavor to be laid to rest in their homeland here.”
“I will speak with officials to see if it can be arranged,” the priest said with a nod. “Now, cease the blockade you impose upon your own words. Let free your testimony to reach Hino, lest it be struck down as false. Lying to a god is deserving of a fate far worse than we have to offer.”
“The blunt truth of the matter is not something you can just will yourself to understand.” Holden raised his voice. “I have heard all of the tales spun by our own people, and our leaders. I am depicted as the traitor that you seek to bring to justice -- for the blood of the king’s only son -- or as an innocent man, brought so low by corruption that sought to use me as a scapegoat. If you desire true closure of these events, then I must start from the beginning.”

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