Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 5: Lurndasti

And here’s the conclusion, if you can call it that. This is what happens when I get bored of a story: it gets nuked. Sometimes literally. This part’s a bit longer than previous ones, but I didn’t want to keep stretching it out.

Previous instalments, for reference:
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 1: Prologue
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 2: The Dawn Breaks
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 3: Face to Face
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 4: A Close Call

Hestan started on his way back to the house. His arms were sore from the day’s work and he wanted some rest before market day tomorrow.

His sister awaited him and asked, “Did you get a lot done?”

“Yeah. A few rows,” he said noncommittally. He would mention Kalom tomorrow, when she wouldn’t see the other reason for his weariness.

Once in his room, he shut the blinds and collapsed into bed, reflecting. After a while pondering his encounter with Kalom, he concluded, Kalom must have done something very wrong if he attacked me merely to avoid further questions. And with that final thought, he drifted off to sleep.

▪ ▪ ▪

Hestan awoke before dawn. He’d had a peaceful, dream-free sleep and he was thankful for it. Glancing at the news that lay upon the noticeboard opposite him, he wondered at the absence of an update of the fortress break-in. Almost as if they discovered something was stolen that people shouldn’t know about, he thought. All the noticeboard contained today was the market prices, which he would need.

He got to his feet and traversed the room, ripping the information off the wall. He made a brief effort to make his bed look tidier, but quickly gave up and left the job for his sister, who insisted on having neat rooms. His sister was remaining at home today, as it was customary for males to do the bartering on Market Day. Even he, a thirteen-year-old, would not look out of place at the market square. Unfortunately, prejudice dictated that the adults always seemed to assume he was trying to steal their goods, which of course was never the case.

After a brief greeting and meal with Mikeal, he made his way to their store shed where all the harvested corn was. He dumped it all into the wagon that resided next to the shed and tethered their only horse to it. Then he was away, heading east in the direction of the rising sun.

▪ ▪ ▪

By the time Hestan arrived at the city of Lurndasti, the sun at the peak of its journey through the heavens. The market square was bustling with people everywhere, from ten-years-olds to seniors and everyone in between. The marketplace itself was a large, circular clearing with all roads leading straight to it. Thatched roofs on stone buildings surrounded the area with stalls set up outside most of the buildings. There were also some stables in one section for public use. It was sweltering hot, and some merchants had set up make-shift sun shelters near their stalls – some people were lounging about as the merchants shouted at them to buy their goods.

Hestan led Trukker over to the stables. After ensuring his horse had enough food and water he paid the stable attendant enough money to ensure Trukker would be well treated. Then he filled a sack with corn and hefted it across his back, heading for the nearest harvest stall. It was heavy, but he could manage.

Somebody screamed. Suddenly there was a loud CRACK that sent people scattering in all directions. Hestan whipped his gaze about wildly, searching for the source of the sound.

A gigantic metallic sphere sat in the middle of the marketplace, steaming. It was slightly submerged in the road and cracked rocks surrounded it. Then it broke in half.

Hestan hastily joined the stampede of merchants and buyers all exiting the marketplace without a second glance back. Others were passing him; he’d never been a good runner. Just as he reached the edge of the marketplace, something sharp hit him on his right shoulder. His arm went limp immediately, and a few seconds later the rest of his body followed.

▪ ▪ ▪

Mikeal watched her brother leave for the markets, glad she didn’t have to accompany him. She hated dealing with merchants even more than she hated the constant grind every day, straining to make enough money to survive until the next harvest. It was always work; there was no break, no holidays, and she wished that by some miracle they would have the opportunity to play like most others their age. But with no adult to do the work for them, they were stuck doing it themselves in order to maintain the house, the horse, the land, their food… The list went on. Of course, she appreciated the value of hard work; perhaps more than anyone else. She packed more brawn than a lady should, and it often drew stares when she went into town. Another reason she hated market days.

With a dejected sigh, Mikeal left the house and went to prepare a new season of corn. A loud CRACK ripped through the air, and she dropped to the ground instinctively. She’d never heard such a sound before, and it sent a shiver down her spine as she considered what it could be. After briefly considering going to the marketplace to check if Hestan was alright, she decided it would be too late by the time she got there if anything was wrong.

Praying that he was okay, she forced herself to return to her work, worrying for her brother.

▪ ▪ ▪

Light materialised before Hestan’s eyes. As it slowly gained focus, he sat up, his muscles protesting feebly. A flash of light briefly blinded him and he waited for his eyes to adjust again before looking around. He was still in the marketplace, which was now deserted. The flash of light had come from behind him, and he directed his gaze there curiously. The metal sphere was in the same place too, though he now saw that it was like a chariot of some sort, without the wheels. That seemed a poor comparison, though. The thing had red velvet padding inside with straps around the edges and an odd contraption in the center which was connected to the frame by a large black metal bar. There were two men standing around it, all examining some part of it, and a woman was sitting in the interior tampering with the contraption. The woman looked up, straight at him.

“Hello there, little one. Don’t be scared.” She started to move towards him, and the men glanced up. Hestan watched her approach wearily. The woman helped him to his feet and started to lead him back to the crash site. He was still too weak to resist, and he wondered about that. What had he been hit with? And what was the flash?

“These are my friends, Dornike and Jorkast,” she said, indicating each man respectively. Dornike had spiky black hair and bright blue eyes, and he looked at Hestan kindly. Jorkast had dull brown eyes and messy hair to match, and looked like a man that no one wanted to cross. The woman had murky black eyes and long, flowing black hair with a tint of red. All three of them were wearing identical uniforms, all entirely white.

“And I’m Emelia.” She turned her attention back to the contraption and Hestan quickly asked, “What was that big flash?”

“The emission of white light was caused by one-fifty grams of magnesium left in the secondary storage bay which currently has a malfunctioning hatch. Jorkast is attending to that.”

“Huh.” Most of the words flew over Hestan’s head.

“Told you it was a bad idea to buy one of those magnesium communicators,” Dornike muttered to Jorkast, who scowled.

“They said they’d solved the combustion problem.”

Dornike scoffed. “Combustion is not a problem, it’s the expected behaviour. I don’t know why you couldn’t just get an alloy one like everyone else.”

“Emelia,” Jorkast prompted, changing the subject. “Could you ask the boy where we are?”

“Lurndasti,” replied Hestan without waiting for the relayed message. “Finest town in the Third Kingdom.” He glanced around at the deserted clearing, his pride wavering somewhat. “Most of the time.”

The strange men exchanged a troubled look and whispered softly to each other. Hestan only caught fragments, and even they made no sense.

“… no galaxy code … doesn’t bode well …”

“… corrupted warp data … a new holodisk?”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Emelia said to him. “We apologise for any discomfort caused by the detainer dart. Have a nice day.”

She turned and re-entered the crashed wagon, sitting down with an eerily blank expression on her face. The other two paid her no heed, continuing to talk quickly to each other.

Hestan backed slowly away, collecting the bag of corn he’d dropped as he made for the stables. Many questions raced through his mind, but for now his priority was to get home safely. The corn would sell tomorrow, assuming anyone returned to the markets. He had a feeling there would be at least three white-suited patrons tomorrow, though. They didn’t look to be going anywhere any time soon.

Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 4: A Close Call

Well, last week got a little hectic here, so I regrettably had to break my spree of weekly blog posts. It was that peculiar time of the year when everybody repeatedly asks you if you feel older and expects you to give speeches.

Anyway, I’ve been a little slack with the inception of original ramblings recently, which of course leads to the resulting continuation (and soon conclusion) of the short series of extracts from the unfinished novel I began eight years ago. If you missed the earlier three installments, here they are:
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 1: Prologue
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 2: The Dawn Breaks
Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 3: Face to Face

Next week you’ll see how I ended up nuking it. But without further ado…

As Kalom spoke, Hestan saw defeat written all over his face, and again he wondered why Kalom was acting so mysterious.

“I do. I live here — which is more than you can say,” Hestan said in reply, perhaps more brutally than necessary.

“You do? I was unaware than anyone lived in this clearing but me,” said Kalom, jumping on Hestan’s insult.

“I saw you running along the edge of the forest this morning.” It was a statement, and one that Hestan expected a retort for. When Kalom remained silent, he continued, “there aren’t many diminutive people that would travel the length of the forest without good reason,” he argued rationally, “…looked to me like you were running from something…” Hestan had concluded that Kalom was avoiding the townsfolk, and therefore must have done something to enrage, perhaps aggravate, the town watch. It would have to be something more than petty theft… His mind flashed back to the break-in he read about that morning, and wondered if the ‘thief’ was Kalom.

As Hestan was thinking, he had thought Kalom was pondering a reply, but realised too late that he’d actually been forming an escape plan in his mind. With a flash of sunlight off what must have been a flint knife, Kalom was charging him.

In a futile attempt to defend himself, Hestan’s arms jumped up to his head as he rolled to one side, cursing himself for being so negligent. Kalom had a knife, while he had nothing. Or perhaps I can use my height to my advantage, he thought.

Pulling out of his roll, he spun on the spot, trying to get Kalom in his sight. The short boy was edging around him, holding a nasty-looking dagger, with a blade about a hand’s breadth in length. Then with another glint of sunlight that momentarily blinded him, Kalom leaped on him, the knife jumping to a position so close to his throat he could feel the air from the movement hit his skin.

Kalom growled, “You will not—” Abruptly Hestan pushed the boy off his chest with all his might and immediately followed through with a fist to the stomach. As Kalom bent over, Hestan took the dagger from his hand and swiftly side-stepped the winded boy before he could react. Standing behind him, Hestan put the knife the Kalom’s throat even as the boy came back to his senses. “Curse you,” gasped Kalom, breathing heavily. Then he made a quick assumption that Hestan wasn’t going to kill him, and slid out of range of the dagger’s blade. With a brief intake of breath as he gathered the energy he needed, Kalom jumped to his feet as took off through the opposite end of the clearing, grabbing a few items from his shelter as he went.

When Hestan could no longer see the boy, he let out the breath he had been holding and collapsed onto the ground. Well, he thought, maybe this turn of events isn’t so bad after all, if it taught Kalom not to threaten me. Hestan had decided not to give chase to Kalom because he didn’t think it would achieve anything, and besides, he was out of breath. With a sigh, he raised himself slowly to his feet and went over to the shelter Kalom had abandoned. The shelter itself was crudely made from the stalks of the corn plants with some scattered leaves over the roof; the “walls” were simply some straight stalks leaning against each other. Sufficient only for a few days, if that. Kalom must have predicted that his stay here wouldn’t be long. Inside, there were only a couple cobs of corn, though they appeared to be the biggest ones Kalom could have found in the near vicinity. Hestan demolished the hut with a kick of his foot and set off back to the spot where he was working, in the opposite direction to Kalom.

All in a day’s work, thought Hestan.

Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 3: Face to Face

Because most good things come in threes, this will be the last entry in this random series of unfinished excerpts – at least for a little while. I should have time to actually write something new for next week.

As Hestan trudged up the long row of corn, his sister headed down the row in the opposite direction, so as time passed, they became so far from each other that they disappeared out of sight.

It was a dull life, working in a cornfield, thought Hestan. The only interesting part came after harvest, when it was time to spend the result of a year’s hard work. There were Market Days dotted throughout the season for when they needed to sell, and it was fun bartering, but even more fun when it came to spending the gold they earned. One harvest’s gold had to last them the better part of a year before the next season. It usually did, with some to spare too.

His trail of thought stopped abruptly as he heard a rustle behind him. That didn’t sound like a bird, he thought. He wasn’t scared, nor dreading the source of the rustle, but excited; this was the only eventful thing that had happened for months, so he was going to make the most of it.

Hestan spun around. Nothing there. He knew there was no wind or natural disturbance that would make the corn rustle, so he abandoned the place he was working and set off through the corn field.

He trampled on until he thought he was walking in circles. But then he erupted into a clearing and gasped. The clearing itself was weird enough — someone had cut down the corn there and made a small kennel in the middle of the clearing. But the thing his eyes were drawn to was hiding in the kennel unsuccessfully, the legs protruding out indiscreetly.

Kalom, thought Hestan, as the small boy realized he was discovered. He must have been exploring when he came across me, and ran back to his hideout and dived in. But why is he so keen to remain hidden? It made no sense that the fearless little boy would want to hide from the rest of Lurndasti — he always resided near civilisation.

There was only one way to find out.

▪ ▪ ▪

Kalom was in hiding. His recent interloping within the Queen’s fortress had left him paranoid. He had intruded upon a large cornfield and made his makeshift lodge in a small area he’d cleared out. It was just enough; a small kennel made cover for him to sleep in, and shade from the sun beating down on him during the day. Conveniently, the corn was ripe and juicy so he had provisions for as long as he wanted to stay here.

He quickly became bored of sitting around all day, so he started to wander around, careful to stay coordinated so he could find his small lodge again. Navigating through the maize proved quite difficult — the corn was large and heavy, and very dense, though if he looked at the ground he could see the close rows that the crops were planted in. He tried to keep walking in a straight line, perpendicular to the rows, so it would be easier to trace his trail back again. He was just about to turn around when he saw through the corn someone doing something with the corn cobs; a mere arm’s length away.

He froze. Who in Lurndasti it could be, he didn’t know. He was dimly aware that the person had stopped moving. He turned and fled, trying to close the tall crops behind him as to make it harder for the person to follow him.

After what seemed like ages he broke into his clearing and skidded into the pathetic lump that was his home. Barely a few seconds later the person followed him into the clearing, panting. After a brief sweep of his gaze around the opening he stared at Kalom himself, who hastily pulled his legs in, too late to go unnoticed.

So that was it. After only four days in hiding he was discovered… No. He mustn’t give up hope… yet.

Inevitably, Kalom stood and faced the boy. Remaining at the edge of the clearing, he still dwarfed Kalom, although he looked younger than fifteen and Kalom thought he might have seen the boy somewhere else, nearer to the marketplace roughly a league from here.

Dwelling on the present, Kalom was the first to speak. “Hello.” He said, expressionless. “Do you come here often?”

Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 2: The Dawn Breaks

Another busy week, another chapter from an unfinished novel. Once again, bear in mind I wrote this quite a while ago (probably when I was the same age as the protagonist), so the prose is not the most coherent.

Hestan raised one eyelid slowly. Half-blinded, he closed it again. Light poured in through the window, landing on his face. He sat up and opened his eyes again. Now that he was not looking directly at the sun, he looked at the notice board opposite him, beside the windows. It contained the day’s news; what was happening around Lurndasti. His sister changed it every day. Today it read:

A thief broke into the Queen’s Fortress!

Early this morning traces of a break-in were apparent. It is still unclear what the thief stole, but something was definitely taken. The Queen, whose quarters were broken into, appears untroubled by this breach of security. The guards are in complete shock. They report seeing no-one pass them in the night. The mystery of who, what, how, and why is still being solved.

It went on to state the increases and decreases in the harvests and market prices. Hestan stopped reading. The Fortress break-in was certainly weird, but not his concern.

He started downstairs. Today was going to be as dull as every other day in this semester. Harvesting corn! Every day he worked in their cornfield with his younger sister, Mikeal. It was harvesting season, so that’s what he’d be doing.

He met his sister at the bottom of the stairs. She was carrying a tray stacked with food.

“Hestan, you’re awake!” she said with deliberate patience. “I just fed Trukker for you.” Trukker was their horse, their only horse, whom it was usually his duty to feed in the mornings. She continued, “Here are your provisions for the day. We had better get out to the fields now — a long day of work awaits us.”

If there was another person present, they would have been surprised that a ten year old girl was ordering her thirteen year old brother around. But Hestan’s family had been in turmoil ever since his mother had died in the fire that had taken half their corn fields.

The great forest that surrounded those fields was now starting to spread into their reserves. Hestan knew this and dearly wanted to cut the creepers and seedlings back, but his sister thought it would be fun to own part of a forest. He followed Mikeal outside once he had finished his meal.

Something suddenly caught his eye. For a mere fraction of a second he saw a small figure moving swiftly along the fringe of the forest, so far away it was almost obstructed by the heat haze. But then it was gone, and he couldn’t see a single thing over by the dark, looming forest. Hestan was unperturbed. He had an inkling who it might be, and this possibility would explain the figure’s presence near the forest; generally everyone stayed away from there. His suspicions concerned Kalom, a small homeless boy who went where he willed with not a care for the consequences. He was the only one who would go near the daunting forest.

Mikeal had kept walking, oblivious to the fact that her brother had stopped, so Hestan ran to catch up. There was no point informing her of the insignificant event he’d witnessed, so he got to work in the field. After a short while, he noticed a diseased corn cob near to where he was harvesting. Abandoning the small pile of corn he had made at his feet, he started to check each cob of corn for diseases and pull them out if they were infected — harvesting would have to wait. He sighed as he considered the day’s work ahead of him in the merciless sun.

No time like the present, he thought grimly.

Book Excerpt: Moonlight, Part 1: Prologue

This was the prologue of a novel I started writing some eight years ago (and it’s entirely unmodified from its state then). I never made it past 10 pages for lack of inspiration (this is one page, for contrast), but it remains in my archives in case I ever decide to pick it up again. Like many prologues, it tells you next to nothing of the plot or characters, but don’t worry, things become a bit clearer in subsequent chapters. Oh, and Moonlight is a random codename I gave it just now for the sake of identifying this post – I never named it in the past.

It’s been a busy week, and I didn’t find time to write my usual 1000-word monograph, so enjoy this short excerpt from an unnamed, unfinished story instead.

Creeping in the shadows from tree to tree, the small boy considered his options. He could run, leaving the life he had known behind, but then they would still seek him out, finding him in the end. On the other hand, he could turn himself in, or let somebody else turn him in; but why succumb to a lifetime of imprisonment if there was yet a chance of escape? An escape from the hard, merciless shell that becoming a criminal had set around him. Or maybe it was possible to buy his way out? No, that solution held even more flaws—how would he get the money? How would he donate it without turning himself in? Who would he send it to? How much would be necessary?

Even as these questions rang through his head, he forced them back down, thinking he would deal with his options later when the time came. Presently he stopped his brisk strides and concealed himself temporarily behind a tree. The moon shone brightly through the leaves but the boy had positioned himself right up against the wide rough trunk; he didn’t want to be revealed by a small mistake. He had realized too late that this was the wrong night to come. He had intended to come on a moonless night—the consequences for his crime were too great to take unnecessary risks. That precaution had shattered, so now he had to find a place to lie low while mulling over his next move.

The boy swiftly looked around, taking in his surroundings. The impossibly huge fortress rose above him; its closest wall about ten paces away. Turrets rose even higher, potentially holding one or two sentries. Much lower, the battlements looked harshly menacing to onlookers, and once again the boy knew not whether there were people up there, looking around the ground for people like him. Others would say the boy was getting a bit paranoid; after all, his crime was yet unknown to the world! But he knew it would be a mistake to underestimate the interrogation skills of the guards. There were rumours they could smell lies… rumours, but nothing more.

He turned his head the other way, both dismissing these thoughts and taking in the forest he was engulfed in. Dark and indistinct trees were bunched together as far as he could see—which wasn’t very far. He was standing a few trees in, choosing to remain hidden behind his tree despite the thick coverage. He looked up. There was indeed thick coverage—over 20 times his height, the thick trees he had been examining rose to end in a tangled mass of twigs and leaves. It was impossible to make out the night sky, which would now be brimming with small, twinkling, pinpricks of light—stars.

The boy was thankful for the high coverage, so he set off again, running to where the moon could not find him—straight into the deep forest itself.