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NeoGAF Creative Writing Challenge #23 - "Night"
- Thread starter Cyan
- Start date
- Status
crowphoenix
Banned
I have 0 words. If I make the deadline it will be a miracle.Cyan said:
Edit: And an idea. I'm really going to break character and try to keep blow 500 words. I apologize in advance.
RurouniZel
Asks questions so Ezalc doesn't have to
I've got words that don't make much sense except to me and my weird sense of humor.
ZephyrFate
Banned
what the hell, guys? I'm looking forward to your entries the most
crowphoenix
Banned
Deleted due to TOS changes.
crowphoenix
Banned
I can't believe I made it. I'm sure it's not good since I didn't put much time in it. But it did come out easy. Maybe there's something to this MS Paint outline thing.
Waking up to the Melancholy Twilight
Word count: 349
There's a certain appeal that comes with daytime, and I won't deny that. But there's something about waking up in the twilight that feeds a certain lust for the melancholy and what we associate with the night.
As the air cools, and the buildings decompress, the silence becomes much more clear, and the sounds that are worth hearing become that much more vivid.
And as the sun rises, and the morning chill seeps through the window panes, and the laze of the noon warmth covers you like your mother's blanket, its hard to deny the desire to sleep.
That's what my father told me.
My daughter says she's scared of the dark, ever since her sister died. She says it scares her, that she sees her sister's face in the darkness. We changed which room she sleeps in, but every so often, she'll come to my bed in the middle of the night,. Honey, I miss her too, I'll tell her, but I don't know if those are words of comfort for her or myself.
She's still young, she'll get over it eventually.
What happened between me and mom? I don't know how it got to this point, but we just aren't happy with each other anymore. I miss Chelle so much. What would she do if she were me? How different would our lives be? I feel so sad lately. I've gained weight too. Tom doesn't even talk to me anymore. Dad, where are you? I miss you. Don't you love me anymore?
Whenever I drop by Julie's place, either no one answers, or she looks like she just woke up, only to dose off when we're watching a movie or playing a game. She told me nothing's wrong, but I know that's a lie. I wish she could be like she used to.
Mom told me something her dad told her a long time ago. She said that if you're going to live in the night, you'd better be out having fun, instead of feeling sorry for yourself at home. You only have one chance to live.
Word count: 349
There's a certain appeal that comes with daytime, and I won't deny that. But there's something about waking up in the twilight that feeds a certain lust for the melancholy and what we associate with the night.
As the air cools, and the buildings decompress, the silence becomes much more clear, and the sounds that are worth hearing become that much more vivid.
And as the sun rises, and the morning chill seeps through the window panes, and the laze of the noon warmth covers you like your mother's blanket, its hard to deny the desire to sleep.
That's what my father told me.
My daughter says she's scared of the dark, ever since her sister died. She says it scares her, that she sees her sister's face in the darkness. We changed which room she sleeps in, but every so often, she'll come to my bed in the middle of the night,. Honey, I miss her too, I'll tell her, but I don't know if those are words of comfort for her or myself.
She's still young, she'll get over it eventually.
What happened between me and mom? I don't know how it got to this point, but we just aren't happy with each other anymore. I miss Chelle so much. What would she do if she were me? How different would our lives be? I feel so sad lately. I've gained weight too. Tom doesn't even talk to me anymore. Dad, where are you? I miss you. Don't you love me anymore?
Whenever I drop by Julie's place, either no one answers, or she looks like she just woke up, only to dose off when we're watching a movie or playing a game. She told me nothing's wrong, but I know that's a lie. I wish she could be like she used to.
Mom told me something her dad told her a long time ago. She said that if you're going to live in the night, you'd better be out having fun, instead of feeling sorry for yourself at home. You only have one chance to live.
lol, I actually called my friend on the phone to google up this thread and tell me what the writing challenge theme was so I could start writing while waiting in the car a few hours ago :lol I'm a little shocked that all of the writing that filled up the entire page of sheet of A4 printer paper was only 349 words :lol :lol
Sundays (1708 words)
I like Sundays though.
Me too.
I imagine you would, I said. You know why we call it that, right?
From way back, he said in a gravelly, soft voice. Before God gave us the stars.
You mean Goddard.
I expected a rebuttal, but he just shrugged. From the back pew of the almost-empty hospital chapel, I watched him wander the length of the rostrum as if on a stroll through the vivarium. His black shirt and pants draped over his hunched, meager frame while his white collar was like a halo around his neck.
The chapel was quaint and small, about the size of a single-vehicle garage. Unlike the rest of the orbital station, the room was encased in wood, from the ceiling to the floors, from the walls to the pews. Even the floors creaked. The podium near him looked like a solid wooden block with a cross engraved in the front. He swiped a finger along the front edge and examined the dust on his fingertip. My posture straightened as he circled the podium like a dancer eyeing a partner before a tango. He seemed ready to burst into a sermon at any moment.
Strange place to be for a non-believer, he said, as the metal crosses on the sidewalls reflected off the shine of his bald head like a message playing on a vid-phone.
Its a strange place. I twirled a finger in a circle. No windows. Usually windows looking out into space.
You noticed.
I nodded. Yeah. One exit. Limited cover behind the pews or the podium. Sustained gunfirell tear em apart. Yeah, I noticed.
He wasnt surprised at all. Military? Police?
Security.
Bodyguard then. Ive heard some confessions from your type.
Youre not trying to convert me, are you?
He smiled, deepening the cobweb of wrinkles on his face, and then shrugged. The real question is: what are you looking for?
Someone once told me, she said that I cleared my throat. That if you pray, that even if you dont believe in God that doesnt matter if your prayer is for someone else. Is that true?
What do you think?
I think its arrogant. God isnt an umbrella. You know, just in case of rain.
He crossed his arms, stepped off the front platform, and strolled to the pew in front of me. A grunt and cough came from him as he sat down. He leaned his left arm onto the backrest and turned to me. So what happened on your last job?
I looked to the sides. In the crosses on the wall, I saw that he was staring at me. What do you mean?
I may be an old man, but I notice things too, he said. You didnt come here for the view, did you?
I leaned back. Youve heard about the civil war on Morlan?
A little. He measured that with a gap between his right index finger and thumb. I havent been keeping track of the outside world.
Right. No windows. I ducked my head and winced at my attempt at levity. Anyway, its a bloody thing. Thousands dead each week. Im sure they all have a good goddamn reason for the war. They always do. But I dont know. Well, you should know.
What? I dont follow.
Never mind. I ran my right knuckles along my forehead. Anyway, I was on a watch detail to protect a Morlan ambassador. She was on the second leg of some diplomatic trip from Haven to Fidelia. You know, stop selling weapons to our enemies. Dont give them food. That kind of thing, I guess.
She?
I nodded. Her husband had the position until a sniper exploded his head a few months ago. I winced. I saw the pictures.
She must have been a tough assignment.
I shrugged. It was the job. Protect the ambassador. You know, protect the ambassador. That was the job. She was the primary. The job above all else, you know?
And then what happened?
You know whats funny?
He shook his head.
I used to buy into all this. My arm made a wide arc. My mom used to There was a time. After my dad died, there was a time shed take me to church. On Sundays, shed dragged me out of bed like the house was on fire. Now I was at that age when sleeping in was the thing to do. Especially on Sundays. And in the car, with my face pressed against the window, I saw dawn burn out the night. I remember it being beautiful.
When did you stop going?
My head bowed. I took a moment. I told my mom that if we had prayed, then my dad wouldnt have been hit by that car. God would have protected us. I guess we quit because I believed.
So why dont you believe anymore?
I was angry at her. Left home as soon as I was able to. After that, prayers didnt put food in my belly or money in the pockets. I stood and walked down the aisle to the podium. My knuckles rapped against the wood. A hollow thud reverberated. I was supposed to protect the ambassador, right?
He rubbed the top of his head. Are you asking me?
She had a kid. A girl. Her name was Grace. Younger than I was when my own father was killed. It didnt hit me until I saw the girl clinging to her mothers legs. I turned away from the podium. I had this awful thought when I saw the girl. I wondered if she had been there when her father was murdered. I saw the pictures.
Were you there when your father died?
I nodded. I saw it. The oncoming car. The smell of burnt rubber. You know, you can't let that get to you. Even then, I noticed things, you know. Had to, you know. Saw it. But what could I do, you know?
You were just a kid.
I was.
You related to Grace because you both lost your fathers?
I guess. She was just a normal kid. Had her favorite doll. Ran around. Tried to get out of eating her vegetables. Said her prayers at night. I smiled. Even, sometimes at random times of the day, shed clap her hands together and say a prayer for God to watch over her mom. She said its always night in space.
Did something he began with a dry rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat before erupting into a raucous cough that shuddered his frame. After a moment, his lungs calmed. He wiped his mouth and looked at me as if he had not been interrupted. Did something happen to the girl?
You know whats the difference between a crastodon and a vid-phone?
He shook his head. Whats the difference between a crastodon and a vid-phone?
I shrugged. I dont know. Thats what Grace asked just as Marcuss face was blown clean off.
Marcus?
We were walking down a hallway on the transport ship. I took a couple of steps down the aisle of the chapel. Marcus and I were up front. I should have noticed the two guys. My jaw clenched. The ambassador was on my right, and Marcus to her right. Grace was clutching her mothers left hand. We had Claudia and Smote on rear guard. Now Marcus was always twitchy but still a good guy to have on your right. When he went down You know what a mother does when her child is threatened?
She protects her child.
I nodded. You know what a bodyguard does when his primary is threatened?
You protected her?
Yeah, thats what I did. Thats all I did. I saw a mother move toward her child. And I saw the look on a mothers face as I tackled her to the ground to protect her.
They killed the girl?
Grace took two rounds to her chest before Claudia and Smote peppered the fuckers.
Is she dead?
I shook my head. We took the girl to the nearest hospital. You know, she watched her daughter limp on the surgeons table. I should have noticed the two guys, you know. I felt responsible and asked the ambassador if I could do anything. She asked me to pray with her. And I told her I didnt believe in God. Thats when she told me that that was okay as long as I was praying for someone else and not for myself. She said that was okay.
And you did?
I did.
Did Grace survive?
She did. I looked around the room and paused at each cross on the wall. Shes recovering. The doctors said she should be fine.
Well, thats good news, he said. He took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his pants. What happened to her worked out, even if it was painful. Sometimes God tests
My throat became dry. The ambassadors transport exploded over the planet, I told him. I didnt try to hide my contempt. The girls mother is dead. The ambassador wanted to get Graces things. You know, so shed wake up and have her favorite doll. If I couldnt hurt God, then this frail man who believed had to do.
We both waited for the other to say something. The chapel door opened. A flush of light flooded the room. I smelled lavender and antiseptic soap.
Father Sturet, said the entering nurse. Its time for your treatment.
She offered him her right arm. He stood from the pew and took the awaiting arm.
Treatment? What treatment? I blushed. Why didnt I notice? I should have noticed.
Radiation for my cancer. He rubbed the top of his bald head. Well find a cure one day.
You really believe that?
Of course. I pray we do. He turned toward the chapel door as the nurse supported him.
I scoffed. And how long do you have!? I didnt mean to shout.
He shook his head. Not for me. He chuckled. Ill be long gone before theres a cure. Not for me. He shook his head again. For the next person. The door of the hospital chapel closed behind him as he left.
I like Sundays though.
Me too.
I imagine you would, I said. You know why we call it that, right?
From way back, he said in a gravelly, soft voice. Before God gave us the stars.
You mean Goddard.
I expected a rebuttal, but he just shrugged. From the back pew of the almost-empty hospital chapel, I watched him wander the length of the rostrum as if on a stroll through the vivarium. His black shirt and pants draped over his hunched, meager frame while his white collar was like a halo around his neck.
The chapel was quaint and small, about the size of a single-vehicle garage. Unlike the rest of the orbital station, the room was encased in wood, from the ceiling to the floors, from the walls to the pews. Even the floors creaked. The podium near him looked like a solid wooden block with a cross engraved in the front. He swiped a finger along the front edge and examined the dust on his fingertip. My posture straightened as he circled the podium like a dancer eyeing a partner before a tango. He seemed ready to burst into a sermon at any moment.
Strange place to be for a non-believer, he said, as the metal crosses on the sidewalls reflected off the shine of his bald head like a message playing on a vid-phone.
Its a strange place. I twirled a finger in a circle. No windows. Usually windows looking out into space.
You noticed.
I nodded. Yeah. One exit. Limited cover behind the pews or the podium. Sustained gunfirell tear em apart. Yeah, I noticed.
He wasnt surprised at all. Military? Police?
Security.
Bodyguard then. Ive heard some confessions from your type.
Youre not trying to convert me, are you?
He smiled, deepening the cobweb of wrinkles on his face, and then shrugged. The real question is: what are you looking for?
Someone once told me, she said that I cleared my throat. That if you pray, that even if you dont believe in God that doesnt matter if your prayer is for someone else. Is that true?
What do you think?
I think its arrogant. God isnt an umbrella. You know, just in case of rain.
He crossed his arms, stepped off the front platform, and strolled to the pew in front of me. A grunt and cough came from him as he sat down. He leaned his left arm onto the backrest and turned to me. So what happened on your last job?
I looked to the sides. In the crosses on the wall, I saw that he was staring at me. What do you mean?
I may be an old man, but I notice things too, he said. You didnt come here for the view, did you?
I leaned back. Youve heard about the civil war on Morlan?
A little. He measured that with a gap between his right index finger and thumb. I havent been keeping track of the outside world.
Right. No windows. I ducked my head and winced at my attempt at levity. Anyway, its a bloody thing. Thousands dead each week. Im sure they all have a good goddamn reason for the war. They always do. But I dont know. Well, you should know.
What? I dont follow.
Never mind. I ran my right knuckles along my forehead. Anyway, I was on a watch detail to protect a Morlan ambassador. She was on the second leg of some diplomatic trip from Haven to Fidelia. You know, stop selling weapons to our enemies. Dont give them food. That kind of thing, I guess.
She?
I nodded. Her husband had the position until a sniper exploded his head a few months ago. I winced. I saw the pictures.
She must have been a tough assignment.
I shrugged. It was the job. Protect the ambassador. You know, protect the ambassador. That was the job. She was the primary. The job above all else, you know?
And then what happened?
You know whats funny?
He shook his head.
I used to buy into all this. My arm made a wide arc. My mom used to There was a time. After my dad died, there was a time shed take me to church. On Sundays, shed dragged me out of bed like the house was on fire. Now I was at that age when sleeping in was the thing to do. Especially on Sundays. And in the car, with my face pressed against the window, I saw dawn burn out the night. I remember it being beautiful.
When did you stop going?
My head bowed. I took a moment. I told my mom that if we had prayed, then my dad wouldnt have been hit by that car. God would have protected us. I guess we quit because I believed.
So why dont you believe anymore?
I was angry at her. Left home as soon as I was able to. After that, prayers didnt put food in my belly or money in the pockets. I stood and walked down the aisle to the podium. My knuckles rapped against the wood. A hollow thud reverberated. I was supposed to protect the ambassador, right?
He rubbed the top of his head. Are you asking me?
She had a kid. A girl. Her name was Grace. Younger than I was when my own father was killed. It didnt hit me until I saw the girl clinging to her mothers legs. I turned away from the podium. I had this awful thought when I saw the girl. I wondered if she had been there when her father was murdered. I saw the pictures.
Were you there when your father died?
I nodded. I saw it. The oncoming car. The smell of burnt rubber. You know, you can't let that get to you. Even then, I noticed things, you know. Had to, you know. Saw it. But what could I do, you know?
You were just a kid.
I was.
You related to Grace because you both lost your fathers?
I guess. She was just a normal kid. Had her favorite doll. Ran around. Tried to get out of eating her vegetables. Said her prayers at night. I smiled. Even, sometimes at random times of the day, shed clap her hands together and say a prayer for God to watch over her mom. She said its always night in space.
Did something he began with a dry rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat before erupting into a raucous cough that shuddered his frame. After a moment, his lungs calmed. He wiped his mouth and looked at me as if he had not been interrupted. Did something happen to the girl?
You know whats the difference between a crastodon and a vid-phone?
He shook his head. Whats the difference between a crastodon and a vid-phone?
I shrugged. I dont know. Thats what Grace asked just as Marcuss face was blown clean off.
Marcus?
We were walking down a hallway on the transport ship. I took a couple of steps down the aisle of the chapel. Marcus and I were up front. I should have noticed the two guys. My jaw clenched. The ambassador was on my right, and Marcus to her right. Grace was clutching her mothers left hand. We had Claudia and Smote on rear guard. Now Marcus was always twitchy but still a good guy to have on your right. When he went down You know what a mother does when her child is threatened?
She protects her child.
I nodded. You know what a bodyguard does when his primary is threatened?
You protected her?
Yeah, thats what I did. Thats all I did. I saw a mother move toward her child. And I saw the look on a mothers face as I tackled her to the ground to protect her.
They killed the girl?
Grace took two rounds to her chest before Claudia and Smote peppered the fuckers.
Is she dead?
I shook my head. We took the girl to the nearest hospital. You know, she watched her daughter limp on the surgeons table. I should have noticed the two guys, you know. I felt responsible and asked the ambassador if I could do anything. She asked me to pray with her. And I told her I didnt believe in God. Thats when she told me that that was okay as long as I was praying for someone else and not for myself. She said that was okay.
And you did?
I did.
Did Grace survive?
She did. I looked around the room and paused at each cross on the wall. Shes recovering. The doctors said she should be fine.
Well, thats good news, he said. He took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his pants. What happened to her worked out, even if it was painful. Sometimes God tests
My throat became dry. The ambassadors transport exploded over the planet, I told him. I didnt try to hide my contempt. The girls mother is dead. The ambassador wanted to get Graces things. You know, so shed wake up and have her favorite doll. If I couldnt hurt God, then this frail man who believed had to do.
We both waited for the other to say something. The chapel door opened. A flush of light flooded the room. I smelled lavender and antiseptic soap.
Father Sturet, said the entering nurse. Its time for your treatment.
She offered him her right arm. He stood from the pew and took the awaiting arm.
Treatment? What treatment? I blushed. Why didnt I notice? I should have noticed.
Radiation for my cancer. He rubbed the top of his bald head. Well find a cure one day.
You really believe that?
Of course. I pray we do. He turned toward the chapel door as the nurse supported him.
I scoffed. And how long do you have!? I didnt mean to shout.
He shook his head. Not for me. He chuckled. Ill be long gone before theres a cure. Not for me. He shook his head again. For the next person. The door of the hospital chapel closed behind him as he left.
Army of the Night (1900)
The woman looked at me beadily. "You can read then, can you?"
I nodded, and her wrinkled brow drew upwards in surprise. She pursed her lips, then gave a large, false smile, showing yellowed and broken teeth. "Well. You see, it was as well you were sent to the temple." She nodded as if agreeing with herself. "If your parents had lived, you'd just be another unlettered farmer out here on the Border. And here you are, a big, importantwhat is it you are again?"
I shook my head, trying not to show my impatience. "That's of no matter. Will you let me see the letters?"
She grumbled a bit, but finally hauled her ancient carcass out of the rocking chair, and toddled off to find them.
I remained where I was, sipping too-dark, unsweetened tea from the cracked bit of pottery she'd given me.
The air was dank, still, oppressive. Was this really where my father had grown up? I couldn't imagine a child in this house. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, and the sparse furnishings seemed liable to break at any moment. But more than that, there was something almost sepulchral about the place. As if it neither admitted nor harbored life, and my very presence was an affront. A child playing and running about would have been unthinkable.
I shifted in my chair.
After a time, she came back, carrying a small wooden box. She grinned at my obvious discomfort. Harridan. "Here you are then. Don't know why we kept them, but maybe they'll be some use to you. Give you some idea how to talk to a woman!" She laughed. No, cackled.
I glowered, but reined in my temper. This had been difficult enough without throwing obstacles of my own making in my path. I reached out to take the box from her.
She was oddly reluctant to let it go. When she finally did, she stepped back as though startled, blinked a few times, then tottered off without a word.
I snorted. This woman did not give me high hopes of my fathers character. Still, what was, was. I would find the truth.
I carried the box with me to the front of the house, outside, where I could think, and see properly. I sat just outside the door. Slowly, with a feel of reverence and ceremony, I opened the small wooden box.
The aged paper crackled.
I looked up. I wondered vaguely whether Brother Theo had ever read these letters to Nora. Had the fever taken her by then?
I chuckled at my own foolishness. Two months. No.
I reached for another letter, this time from further toward the middle of the stack. I pulled it out, carefully smoothing the paper.
So. He had been a part of the infamous Army of Light. I scratched at my chin.
Even now, near twenty-five years later, that last battle between them and the so-called Army of the Night was the subject of much speculation and argument. Mandibles and glowing eyes? More likely the officers didnt want the soldiers to see that the enemy they were taught to hate were ordinary men like themselves.
I hesitated, only for a moment, then reached to the back of the box for the final letter. The handwriting was different. Messier. I frowned, but began to read.
The handwriting changed again, becoming still more agitated.
I allowed a brief smile to touch my lips.
That battle was a much-discussed mystery. What had caused the Army of the Night to retreat, after winning the greatest victory of that brief war? Where did they go? And what happened to them?
But one thing all agreed on was that the Army of Light, brave fools, had been slaughtered to a man. Everyone who had fought in that battle was dead.
Everyone who had fought.
I folded the letter and put it in my coat pocket. It was time to go searching again.
The woman looked at me beadily. "You can read then, can you?"
I nodded, and her wrinkled brow drew upwards in surprise. She pursed her lips, then gave a large, false smile, showing yellowed and broken teeth. "Well. You see, it was as well you were sent to the temple." She nodded as if agreeing with herself. "If your parents had lived, you'd just be another unlettered farmer out here on the Border. And here you are, a big, importantwhat is it you are again?"
I shook my head, trying not to show my impatience. "That's of no matter. Will you let me see the letters?"
She grumbled a bit, but finally hauled her ancient carcass out of the rocking chair, and toddled off to find them.
I remained where I was, sipping too-dark, unsweetened tea from the cracked bit of pottery she'd given me.
The air was dank, still, oppressive. Was this really where my father had grown up? I couldn't imagine a child in this house. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, and the sparse furnishings seemed liable to break at any moment. But more than that, there was something almost sepulchral about the place. As if it neither admitted nor harbored life, and my very presence was an affront. A child playing and running about would have been unthinkable.
I shifted in my chair.
After a time, she came back, carrying a small wooden box. She grinned at my obvious discomfort. Harridan. "Here you are then. Don't know why we kept them, but maybe they'll be some use to you. Give you some idea how to talk to a woman!" She laughed. No, cackled.
I glowered, but reined in my temper. This had been difficult enough without throwing obstacles of my own making in my path. I reached out to take the box from her.
She was oddly reluctant to let it go. When she finally did, she stepped back as though startled, blinked a few times, then tottered off without a word.
I snorted. This woman did not give me high hopes of my fathers character. Still, what was, was. I would find the truth.
I carried the box with me to the front of the house, outside, where I could think, and see properly. I sat just outside the door. Slowly, with a feel of reverence and ceremony, I opened the small wooden box.
The aged paper crackled.
Dear Nora,
Fortunate day! Did a favor for one of the men in my troop. Good fellow. Happens he was apprenticed to a scribe back in his home village, and hes agreed to write out letters for me every so often. Hes going to try and teach me to write toome, write! What a thought. Bet you were startled no end to get this from me! (Brother Theo, I know youre reading this to Nora. Please do a fellow a favor and dont let on to her parents Im writing her.)
Nora, Im sorry for how things happened before I left. Well get married the very moment I get back, whatever your father says. You know I mean it for true.
Soldiering isnt an easy life. Its not what I thought. Theres no heroic rides and battles and rescues like in the stories. Its all marching and eating and sleeping and keeping watch. And when its not one of those things, youre sitting about with nothing to do.
The others, the veterans, tell me to be grateful. They tell me that when we meet with the Army of the Night Ill wish I was back being bored.
This isnt what I wanted. I thought I was to help protect our people from the Night, not grind myself into dust with marching. These packs get awful heavy.
All that keeps me going is thinking of you. I think of the farm well have when I get back, of our children and our comfortable house. Well have lovely green fields with no stones, and enough cows that you could bathe in the milk, and a nice plump little girl. Ive always liked the name Jennie.
Two months from home, and it feels like half a lifetime.
Love from your Robert
Fortunate day! Did a favor for one of the men in my troop. Good fellow. Happens he was apprenticed to a scribe back in his home village, and hes agreed to write out letters for me every so often. Hes going to try and teach me to write toome, write! What a thought. Bet you were startled no end to get this from me! (Brother Theo, I know youre reading this to Nora. Please do a fellow a favor and dont let on to her parents Im writing her.)
Nora, Im sorry for how things happened before I left. Well get married the very moment I get back, whatever your father says. You know I mean it for true.
Soldiering isnt an easy life. Its not what I thought. Theres no heroic rides and battles and rescues like in the stories. Its all marching and eating and sleeping and keeping watch. And when its not one of those things, youre sitting about with nothing to do.
The others, the veterans, tell me to be grateful. They tell me that when we meet with the Army of the Night Ill wish I was back being bored.
This isnt what I wanted. I thought I was to help protect our people from the Night, not grind myself into dust with marching. These packs get awful heavy.
All that keeps me going is thinking of you. I think of the farm well have when I get back, of our children and our comfortable house. Well have lovely green fields with no stones, and enough cows that you could bathe in the milk, and a nice plump little girl. Ive always liked the name Jennie.
Two months from home, and it feels like half a lifetime.
Love from your Robert
I looked up. I wondered vaguely whether Brother Theo had ever read these letters to Nora. Had the fever taken her by then?
I chuckled at my own foolishness. Two months. No.
I reached for another letter, this time from further toward the middle of the stack. I pulled it out, carefully smoothing the paper.
Dear Nora,
I saw my first battle.
Well, more of a small skirmish, the veterans tell me. A unit of enemy scouts charged right into our flank as we were marching. Dont know what they thought they could do as there werent many of them.
I couldnt see much from where I was. There was a minute of flashing swords and armor, and everyone was terrified we were being ambushed, but it was finished quickly. Only a few casualties on our side, and nobody I knew.
After they were defeated, we werent allowed to go near and see the bodies. I heard that they have glowing eyes, and mouths like a beetle, and all-black armor. A fellow said that the reason we couldnt go see was they were actually our own dead from other battles, returned by sorcery to fight on the side of Night.
I dont know if Im supposed to tell you these things. Sometimes I wonder if my friend is really writing it all down. Are you writing it just like I say? Tell me honest now. All right, no need for that. I didnt mean nothing by it.
Im trying to think of something happier to tell you. Oh, I know.
I saw quite a sight a few days gone. Passed right near the biggest city I ever seen. Palaces and city walls and towers and all. And when we passed over a hill, we could see inside. There was a great marketplace, like what you hear stories about. There were all kinds of grand buildings, temples and palaces and other things I couldnt put name to. And a river ran right through the middle of all this, with bridges scattered all about the city. Some were big, some were small. Some were fancy and well kept, some were smaller and crumbling. But they all crossed the river just the same.
You'd have smiled to see the bridges, I know you would.
Wishing I was home with you.
Your Robert.
I saw my first battle.
Well, more of a small skirmish, the veterans tell me. A unit of enemy scouts charged right into our flank as we were marching. Dont know what they thought they could do as there werent many of them.
I couldnt see much from where I was. There was a minute of flashing swords and armor, and everyone was terrified we were being ambushed, but it was finished quickly. Only a few casualties on our side, and nobody I knew.
After they were defeated, we werent allowed to go near and see the bodies. I heard that they have glowing eyes, and mouths like a beetle, and all-black armor. A fellow said that the reason we couldnt go see was they were actually our own dead from other battles, returned by sorcery to fight on the side of Night.
I dont know if Im supposed to tell you these things. Sometimes I wonder if my friend is really writing it all down. Are you writing it just like I say? Tell me honest now. All right, no need for that. I didnt mean nothing by it.
Im trying to think of something happier to tell you. Oh, I know.
I saw quite a sight a few days gone. Passed right near the biggest city I ever seen. Palaces and city walls and towers and all. And when we passed over a hill, we could see inside. There was a great marketplace, like what you hear stories about. There were all kinds of grand buildings, temples and palaces and other things I couldnt put name to. And a river ran right through the middle of all this, with bridges scattered all about the city. Some were big, some were small. Some were fancy and well kept, some were smaller and crumbling. But they all crossed the river just the same.
You'd have smiled to see the bridges, I know you would.
Wishing I was home with you.
Your Robert.
So. He had been a part of the infamous Army of Light. I scratched at my chin.
Even now, near twenty-five years later, that last battle between them and the so-called Army of the Night was the subject of much speculation and argument. Mandibles and glowing eyes? More likely the officers didnt want the soldiers to see that the enemy they were taught to hate were ordinary men like themselves.
I hesitated, only for a moment, then reached to the back of the box for the final letter. The handwriting was different. Messier. I frowned, but began to read.
Dear Nora,
Its nearly over. Theyve told us that tomorrow well face the Night.
One of the lieutenants came around just before we went to sleep. Older fellow, with a scar down one cheek, an eye-patch, and a good thick mustache. Wish I could grow one like that. Anyway he told us that we were coming up on the final confrontation. And he said that the general wanted us all to hear what we were fighting for.
What we face tomorrow will be difficult. We will likely be outnumbered, and the Nights warriors are fierce. But I want you to remember that you fight for no more and no less than the safety of all our world from darkness. Our sisters, wives, children. We fight so that they may be preserved from evil.
He smiled widely. A snake dies when you cut off its head. And so it is with the Army of the Night. The Queen, in her wisdom, sent a small force of her greatest warriors into the Dark Kingdom itself. Their task is to kill the King of Night, and end the war in one stroke.
What we do here will buy them time. The longer we can keep the Night at bay, the greater the chance of success for our brave heroes. Take heart! Whatever may happen tomorrow, know that we shall triumph. He clasped us each on the shoulder, then strode off to the next fire.
Far from being comforted at this tale, I felt betrayed.
We were no more than a distraction. We were drops of water being thrown pointlessly at a the flames of an inferno, while others sought and destroyed its source. This was not what I had signed on for.
Rumors swept the camp again. The heroes had already succeeded, and the Army of the Night would be swept away on the morning breeze. No, the heroes had already failed, and we were all going to die pointlessly. No, there had never been any heroes at all, we were outnumbered two to one, and we were still going to die.
It took me hours to fall asleep, and I kept waking at small noises. I finally lay there staring at the sky, wondering what was true and what false.
Many deserted while we slept. Nearly one in ten was gone when the sun rose. The rumors of the previous night had damaged morale, but this hurt to the bone. This was betrayal. They left us. They were supposed to be our companions, our friends, our brothers! And they left us to die, slithering away in hopes of saving their own skins.
They will suffer for this.
Its nearly over. Theyve told us that tomorrow well face the Night.
One of the lieutenants came around just before we went to sleep. Older fellow, with a scar down one cheek, an eye-patch, and a good thick mustache. Wish I could grow one like that. Anyway he told us that we were coming up on the final confrontation. And he said that the general wanted us all to hear what we were fighting for.
What we face tomorrow will be difficult. We will likely be outnumbered, and the Nights warriors are fierce. But I want you to remember that you fight for no more and no less than the safety of all our world from darkness. Our sisters, wives, children. We fight so that they may be preserved from evil.
He smiled widely. A snake dies when you cut off its head. And so it is with the Army of the Night. The Queen, in her wisdom, sent a small force of her greatest warriors into the Dark Kingdom itself. Their task is to kill the King of Night, and end the war in one stroke.
What we do here will buy them time. The longer we can keep the Night at bay, the greater the chance of success for our brave heroes. Take heart! Whatever may happen tomorrow, know that we shall triumph. He clasped us each on the shoulder, then strode off to the next fire.
Far from being comforted at this tale, I felt betrayed.
We were no more than a distraction. We were drops of water being thrown pointlessly at a the flames of an inferno, while others sought and destroyed its source. This was not what I had signed on for.
Rumors swept the camp again. The heroes had already succeeded, and the Army of the Night would be swept away on the morning breeze. No, the heroes had already failed, and we were all going to die pointlessly. No, there had never been any heroes at all, we were outnumbered two to one, and we were still going to die.
It took me hours to fall asleep, and I kept waking at small noises. I finally lay there staring at the sky, wondering what was true and what false.
Many deserted while we slept. Nearly one in ten was gone when the sun rose. The rumors of the previous night had damaged morale, but this hurt to the bone. This was betrayal. They left us. They were supposed to be our companions, our friends, our brothers! And they left us to die, slithering away in hopes of saving their own skins.
They will suffer for this.
The handwriting changed again, becoming still more agitated.
I stood there in my sweaty armor, holding a spear. The sun was high, and the horses and men were getting nervous.
I itched.
At last the Army of the Night marched into view, and we found that our guesses had been wrong. They did not outnumber us two to one.
It was nearly ten to one.
Howling masses of them advanced towards our line, waving sword and axe and spear above their heads, yelling their terrible battle cries. They were a torrent, a flood, an unstoppable tide.
Some broke and ran then. Cowards. Perhaps they thought they had a better chance being hunted down later than standing and fighting. Perhaps they were right.
But the bulk of the army stood their ground. Gods bless them, they stood their ground, even as the Army of the Night broke over them like a wave, and their companions fell around them.
They stood their ground.
I itched.
At last the Army of the Night marched into view, and we found that our guesses had been wrong. They did not outnumber us two to one.
It was nearly ten to one.
Howling masses of them advanced towards our line, waving sword and axe and spear above their heads, yelling their terrible battle cries. They were a torrent, a flood, an unstoppable tide.
Some broke and ran then. Cowards. Perhaps they thought they had a better chance being hunted down later than standing and fighting. Perhaps they were right.
But the bulk of the army stood their ground. Gods bless them, they stood their ground, even as the Army of the Night broke over them like a wave, and their companions fell around them.
They stood their ground.
I allowed a brief smile to touch my lips.
That battle was a much-discussed mystery. What had caused the Army of the Night to retreat, after winning the greatest victory of that brief war? Where did they go? And what happened to them?
But one thing all agreed on was that the Army of Light, brave fools, had been slaughtered to a man. Everyone who had fought in that battle was dead.
Everyone who had fought.
I folded the letter and put it in my coat pocket. It was time to go searching again.
The Entries:
AlternativeUlster - "they fell in love with a dead boy"
Assemble! - "Night Jogging"
Ward - "Bodie Braun"
ZephyrFate - "A Choice, An Answer"
TimeDog - "Electric Burn Victim"
Great Rumbler - "Ebon Pinion"
RurouniZel - "The path to Knighthood"
BlueMagic - "Death at Night"
2DMention - "The Game Coach"
darkbanjo - "Not a rapist"
Gattsu25 - "Cradle"
Diuretic - "Olber's Story"
MorisUkunRasik - "Midnight Ride"
ronito - "Sleepless Man"
botolf - "Dreams Under The Stars"
crowphoenix - "Where?"
Darkpen - "Waking up to the Melancholy Twilight"
DumbNameD - "Sundays"
Cyan - "Army of the Night"
Well hot damn. Even with a few no-shows at the end (Aaron, Scribble, noooooo!), we still got a whole bunch of entries. Good show, lads.
Time to get cracking on reading, commenting, and voting!
AlternativeUlster - "they fell in love with a dead boy"
Assemble! - "Night Jogging"
Ward - "Bodie Braun"
ZephyrFate - "A Choice, An Answer"
TimeDog - "Electric Burn Victim"
Great Rumbler - "Ebon Pinion"
RurouniZel - "The path to Knighthood"
BlueMagic - "Death at Night"
2DMention - "The Game Coach"
darkbanjo - "Not a rapist"
Gattsu25 - "Cradle"
Diuretic - "Olber's Story"
MorisUkunRasik - "Midnight Ride"
ronito - "Sleepless Man"
botolf - "Dreams Under The Stars"
crowphoenix - "Where?"
Darkpen - "Waking up to the Melancholy Twilight"
DumbNameD - "Sundays"
Cyan - "Army of the Night"
Well hot damn. Even with a few no-shows at the end (Aaron, Scribble, noooooo!), we still got a whole bunch of entries. Good show, lads.
Time to get cracking on reading, commenting, and voting!
crowphoenix
Banned
Happy Birthday, Cyan.
AlternativeUlster
Absolutely pathetic part deux
Cyan, it is your birth!
RurouniZel
Asks questions so Ezalc doesn't have to
Happy Birthday!
ZephyrFate
Banned
happy birthday
Great Rumbler
Member
Happy Spirit Journey Formation Anniversary!
Why am I always the first?
AlternativeUser: The problem with a concept piece is that you risk sacrificing your reader in search of your idea. Some concept pieces work and a lot don't. I felt like you set out on a track, then turned, then doubled back, then turned and doubled back again, by the third time you had done this I was wary, by the end it had become tired. Although the ending did make me smile.
Assemble! - Johnny number five! In the beginning...there are...a lot of...well...ellipses...and, well, commas. It really makes your pacing, feel sorta, I don't know, interrupted. I see what you were trying to do, and I like the revelation at the end but it is rather abrupt and in the end I felt I wanted more explanation.
Ward: Too much runway. It feels like it took a really long time for something to happen then it all happens at once then poof it's over. I understand that it's sorta the nature of the beast given what you did with it. I really like what you tried here. But I think it could benefit from some tightening.
AlternativeUser: The problem with a concept piece is that you risk sacrificing your reader in search of your idea. Some concept pieces work and a lot don't. I felt like you set out on a track, then turned, then doubled back, then turned and doubled back again, by the third time you had done this I was wary, by the end it had become tired. Although the ending did make me smile.
Assemble! - Johnny number five! In the beginning...there are...a lot of...well...ellipses...and, well, commas. It really makes your pacing, feel sorta, I don't know, interrupted. I see what you were trying to do, and I like the revelation at the end but it is rather abrupt and in the end I felt I wanted more explanation.
Ward: Too much runway. It feels like it took a really long time for something to happen then it all happens at once then poof it's over. I understand that it's sorta the nature of the beast given what you did with it. I really like what you tried here. But I think it could benefit from some tightening.
crowphoenix
Banned
Can't mess with tradition. Don't critique until you see the yellow of the cat!
ZephyrFate: A bit too flowery for me. Also sometimes the voicing seems unconsistent. You do all this flowery speech then change even within your separate characters. The ending felt rushed and pushed.
Timedog: It needs just a little bit of editing. That Malugo sure gets around a lot. Some of the similes and metaphors I didn't understand. Face felt like ice cream, isn't something I can really imagine/relate with.
Timedog: It needs just a little bit of editing. That Malugo sure gets around a lot. Some of the similes and metaphors I didn't understand. Face felt like ice cream, isn't something I can really imagine/relate with.
I realize that. But the reader isn't. That's my point. Perhaps going into more detail would've left me less confused I guess. If you had said it felt like her face was melting but cold and sticky like ice cream, I can understand that. Still it's a small thing anyway.Timedog said:
AlternativeUlster
Absolutely pathetic part deux
ronito said:
I understood what Timedog was saying.
AlternativeUlster
Absolutely pathetic part deux
ronito said:
I think it could be that a lot of stories use so many tired adjectives over and over that when you say, "it feels like ice cream" you just sort of know at this point. Adjectives are so tired. I try and let them sleep. It is a bold world out there where objects have feelings without the additives. Time to get on the train Ronito. The only thing stopping this train is a couch if you catch my drift.
ronito said:
To some extent, the point was to alienate the reader (typos and grammar mistakes were on purpose and got worse as the piece went on), but at the same time if you've been on certain types of drugs you know that it might well be possible for a face to feel like ice cream.
The reader is on a drug trip. Ideas melt into each other, her face melts, the world melts, there's a glitch in the narrator. The narrator, or god, breaks down. In the drug trip it is realized that her idea of god is her own inner voice. The only thing that remains constant is Malugo. His words are omnipotent, and transcend anything and everything else. She realizes that reality is deterministic and without any real inherent value, yet she irrationally let's Malugo's word carry infinite weight. The physical abuse and drug use are part of a continued cycle that she perpetuates because in the chaotic world of prostitution, she appreciates the moments of clarity that come as a result of the drugs and the beatings.
I'm sorry, i'm so tired right now. I need sleep, and help.
- Status