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.
Observations 