Prologue

Prologue of my book, Priceless.

Prologue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

          Dust clung to the siblings as they ran. The girl, small even for her young age, caught her foot on a rock and hit the dirt road with a startled cry and a muffled thump. She tried to scramble to her feet and atone for the loss of time, but she wasn’t fast enough. Her small feet were too clumsy.

          Her brother scooped her up into his arms without hesitation, and they were running again, their feet pounding a desperate rhythm into the earth.

          They turned a corner, forest on either side of the path, and found soldiers blocking their way, waiting, swords drawn.

          The boy skidded to a stop, clutching his sister tightly in his arms. He shielded her from the men, his face growing hard.

          One of the soldiers stepped forward, his sword drawn and ready, glinting in the fading sun. “Your parents told us where we could find you,” He said triumphantly, and the boy knew it was over; the pounding feet of the men behind them had finally caught up. He didn’t have to turn around to know they were surrounded.

          “Hand the girl over and we’ll let you leave. The King doesn’t want you, only her.” It was an order. The boy didn’t move except to set his sister down and pull a knife from his boot. It was small and dull, making him long for his sword, but it was all he had, and he planned to use it.

          The boy stood over his sister protectively; she clung to his leg, frozen in her terror.

Six years old is too young to be running from soldiers.

          “I’ll die first,” the boy declared fiercely, brandishing the knife that his life depended on.

          The lead guard shrugged, “Like I said, the King doesn’t want you. You’re completely unimportant. He doesn’t care whether you live or die, so long as we get your sister,” A smirk slid across his face, “If we have to kill you to get her magic, so be it.”

          The soldier came fast, quicker than the boy could have anticipated. His sword zinged through the air with a terrifying speed, missing the boy by mere centimeters. He ducked and grabbed his sister, backing up quickly, his knife in front of him.

          Then they attacked from behind.

          A shield bashed into his back, sending both him and his small sister crashing into the dirt. He shielded her with his body, but nothing he did could stop the crying, the whimpering breaking from her young lips.

          “No,” she was crying, murmuring it again and again into his chest. She was still saying it when they wrenched him off of her and pulled her off the ground, slinging her over one of their shoulders. But then she was shouting, “No!” She reached for her brother, but he was being held at sword point where he could only watch helplessly as they took his sister away. His face was white with despair and horror as she cried for him.

          He reached out a single hand for her, murmuring her name, and received a kick in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, his face contorting in anger. Using this, he barreled into the soldier he’d been speaking to, catching him off guard.

          The girl cried out to him, warning him of the others, but she was getting too far away. She watched as he stole the man’s sword and fought his way through them, each swipe of his new weapon bringing him closer to her. He was shouting her name, crashing into armored men, swinging his sword easily from the years of practice.

          The young girl felt hope then, that her brother would reach her, that he’d save her, just like he’d been doing her whole life. He hadn’t failed her yet. Her small hands reached out to him from the shoulder she hung across.

          “I’m coming!” He shouted, resolute, his eyes hard and determined.

          Hope. Hope. It was taking flight inside her.

          And then she screamed.

          That man. The lead one. He had a new sword. Her grasping fingers turned into a point.

          But he turned too late.

          The boy twisted to see what his sister warned of just as the soldier’s new sword came slicing across his belly, ripping easily through his thin clothing and biting hungrily into his skin.

          A terrible scream was wrenched from the boy’s throat then and he fell to the ground, his blood pouring out around him. The girl screamed, wanting to close her eyes and cover her ears so she might not see her brother’s blood and hear his agony. But she could not.

          Six years old is too young to watch your hero die.

          The boy still managed to open his tormented eyes and look at her, reach for his small sister with a hand he barely managed to unwrap from his bleeding stomach. There was misery and failure in his eyes so vivid her heart tore and she cried harder. Sorrow turned to fury in her petite body. Her anger blossomed and she said a firm, “No.”

          The blast that followed sent the soldiers flying backwards, crashing into trees. She hit the ground hard, but forced herself up and began to run towards her brother.

          Too soon the soldiers were back on their feet, overtaking her small strides too quickly. She focused, willing herself to do this right. It was hard, she’d never done something so hard, but she had to do it. For him.

          Her mind cleared and the answer was simple, she saw every man behind her, hot in pursuit, a perfect picture in her mind’s eye. And she grabbed them. They froze where they were, suspended and unable to move.

          The energy this took was tremendous. The girl gasped and her mind reeled. She couldn’t help but stop and wretch, feeling faint and shaky. She took another step, and her mind howled in pain at the control it took to freeze the men. They struggled against her hold, but she held them fast.

          Finally her gaze landed on her brother, collapsed on the ground in a pool of his own blood. He’d lost so much…. She forced herself to run, and finally fell, exhausted, across his side.

          She dug her hands under his shirt and onto his gaping wound, past the blood, past her throbbing fear.

          “Please get better,” She said softly, her whole body shaking at the effort. Her face turned white as her hands began to glow. The wound began to close, and her brother managed to force himself up, clenching his teeth and trembling with pain and the loss of blood.

          “No,” he said, grabbing at her hands, “You’re doing too much, stop!”

          But he was wrong. It wasn’t going to be enough. There was only one way this was going end. Her energy was slipping down the drain, leaving her with nothing. The men were slowly struggling free, and her brother was still dying. It wasn’t enough. Death was inevitable.

          He’d told her so many stories of hero’s and their adventures, and she knew one thing for sure: Hero’s weren’t supposed to die.

          But her hero was, right before her. Tears streamed down her perfect cheeks and she shook from exhaustion. “I love you,” she said in her small voice, and made her final decision.

          From her small hands she poured everything she had left. Her energy, her life, her magic. Her brother glowed. He looked like a real hero, from the stories.

          He caught her in his arms when she finally collapsed, a final word on her lips, “Run.” And then her head dropped back and the men began to shake.

          Golden patterns burned into her palms and the crown of her head. The boy wept, clutching her body and shaking his head, but he still watched as light shot from her palms and head, and the symbols, all three the same, shone suspended in the air before him, etching their golden curves into his mind.

          When the light faded away, the men dropped to the earth, released from her mind’s hold.

          There was no time. No time for the boy to do anything but release the sister he’d given his life away for, and scramble away from pool of his blood she now lay dead in.

          Nothing to do but run, as the symbols burned like hot irons behind his eyes, and the tears streamed down his face.

 

Author's Note

Pleeeease, give me some feedback! Any thoughts? I'll post my next chapter if you think its good. :)

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good prologue. I like the set-up of the chapter. A terrible situation that got worst. I like the way you described the thoughts and i like the escape at the end. I hope to read more. The chapter is well written and the story is interesting.
Coyote