(no subject)
Title: The Death of a King (Part 1)
Genre: Fantasy, Satire? (I'm not sure if this counts)
Rating: PG eventually for an iffy line.
Word count: 1,138
Notes: This is a fun little original story idea I've had floating around for a while. I don't really plan to use it for anything in the future, let alone sell it, so I'm not locking the post, and am using a CC license instead. I just wanted to write it.
Character designs. Macie and Celia are the only ones with names at this point.
Macie used to think the Day was exciting, when her mother would pull that crisp blue dress from the closet, the same cut that all the other young girls in the village had to wear as well, the clean white apron that went over it, strings that tied in a bow in the back. It was always freshly pressed and smelled of starch. Then her sister Nora would tie Macie’s short dark hair up in pigtails and sit with her on the edge of the bed they shared, looking very stern.
“Now, Macie,” she said, as she did every time. “Be sure to remember what you’re supposed to say.”
And Macie would nod eagerly and stand up straight in the corner of the room when indicated, waiting. Sometimes the whole day went by, and nothing would happen. Mother would begin to pace, then return to her own place when footsteps were heard outside. More often than not, no one would come to the door. But when they did, they never knocked.
Mother stood in the kitchen when door opened, stirring a pot of soup. The same pot of soup she had been stirring all day, on and off. It smelled delicious, but they never seemed to get to eat it. She didn’t look up, just stared straight ahead as the group of young men and women entered the kitchen. Sometimes their armor was freshly polished, sometimes it bore the dirt and stains of days of travel and their boots tracked mud all over Mother’s clean floors. She never said a word. She only spoke when spoken to, as did Nora, whose place was in the hall upstairs. Their lines were carefully rehearsed, to be repeated as many times as they were prompted to.
Macie was usually ignored. She did her best to stand proudly, giving the visitors her sweetest smile, but few of them even glanced her way even when they did enter her room. Once one of the younger boys in the group rifled through the wardrobe drawers, as if expecting to find something. Macie stood very still, her smile trembling, Nora’s warnings ringing in her ears. Say nothing unless you’re spoken to. Don’t move, don’t even turn your head. Just smile no matter what. Macie thought at first, perhaps Nora was afraid of these people, though many of them were about the same age as she was. Perhaps it was because they were usually armed.
Once as a group turned around to leave, a young woman detached herself from her companions, crouching in front of Macie as if to get a better look. She smiled, and Macie decided it was a nice smile, even if the girl’s friend had left dirty footprints on the rug.
“What’s your name?”
Macie stood up a little straighter, delighted to finally say the words she had painstakingly rehearsed time and time again. “I’m Macie! Daddy went off to fight the evil King Remington and never came back. Now Mother and my sister Nora and I are all alone.”
The woman’s face fell. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”
“Celia-we’re leaving!” A young man’s voice, probably their leader’s, called from the hall.
“-coming!” Celia replied, hastily patting Macie on top of the head as if to try to comfort her. Then she was gone, and Macie frowned a bit at the open door.
Nora waited until she heard the front door close downstairs before entering the room from the hall, her brows knitted together. “Macie, did they take anything this time?”
Macie shook her head. “I hid it under the bed, like you said. They don’t look there.”
Nora shook her head, her frown deepening. “No, that’s for your own belongings-you were supposed to put it in the drawer for them.”
But even Celia’s nice smile could not shift Macie’s resolve once she had decided on something. “Mother needs that medicine if she gets too sick to work. I won’t give it away!”
Nora took her by the shoulders, anxious. “It’s the rules, Macie, I know we can’t afford any more but everyone has to give something-”
“Then give them something else!” Macie cried, stomping her foot. “They come in here and Mother gets all nervous-I thought it was exciting at first but all they do is make everything messy and we have to do more cleaning, and they go through my things and I have to watch and I hate it!”
Nora shushed her, not wanting Mother to hear, but Macie wouldn’t stand for it.
“Why do they come here! Why do we have to pretend like nothing’s wrong! It isn’t fair! Just lock the door and don’t let them in ever again!” She pulled at her apron strings. “And I hate this dress! It itches!”
Macie turned and ran down the stairs, Nora chasing close behind, catching her before she could make it to the front door. She then explained to Mother, who gave Macie a lecture the girl was firmly determined to ignore.
“I don’t make the laws in this town, it’s what we have to give in return for a quiet and peaceful life…those young people will save us from King Remington, young lady! Show more respect! I’ll give you another chance, but if you misbehave…”
Macie was confined to her room for a few days, staring forlornly out the window at her friends playing together in the street. Nora brought her meals, an expression something like sadness on her face. Whenever Macie asked, Nora would only say “You’re too little to understand.”
At night before Nora came to bed Macie sometimes heard her arguing with Mother downstairs, and would open the door a crack to listen.
“She deserves to know the truth-”
“Macie is only a child, she can’t possibly understand-besides, children can’t keep such secrets, you know what they’ll do if someone finds out she knows--don’t be a fool, Nora!”
“So we’re…lying to her! She thinks Father was killed by the King, but-we never had a Father to begin with, did we!?”
Mother gave a little gasp, and Nora was silent for a moment.
“I thought as much…it wasn’t that I was too young to remember him. He just never existed. The System gave us to you…”
“Go to bed, Nora,” Mother said quietly.
“Mother-”
“Does it make us any less of a family?”
Nora had nothing to say to that. A few moments later Macie heard her climbing the stairs, and shut the door as quietly as she could, slipping under the covers. Nora entered the room, standing for a moment by the bed before reaching down and hugging Macie tightly.
“You’re right, Macie…it isn’t fair. But you have to be good…for Mother’s sake.”
Macie nodded a little, but she wasn’t so sure if she meant it.
Part 2
The Death of a King by Isabella A Grigoli is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
Genre: Fantasy, Satire? (I'm not sure if this counts)
Rating: PG eventually for an iffy line.
Word count: 1,138
Notes: This is a fun little original story idea I've had floating around for a while. I don't really plan to use it for anything in the future, let alone sell it, so I'm not locking the post, and am using a CC license instead. I just wanted to write it.
Character designs. Macie and Celia are the only ones with names at this point.
Macie used to think the Day was exciting, when her mother would pull that crisp blue dress from the closet, the same cut that all the other young girls in the village had to wear as well, the clean white apron that went over it, strings that tied in a bow in the back. It was always freshly pressed and smelled of starch. Then her sister Nora would tie Macie’s short dark hair up in pigtails and sit with her on the edge of the bed they shared, looking very stern.
“Now, Macie,” she said, as she did every time. “Be sure to remember what you’re supposed to say.”
And Macie would nod eagerly and stand up straight in the corner of the room when indicated, waiting. Sometimes the whole day went by, and nothing would happen. Mother would begin to pace, then return to her own place when footsteps were heard outside. More often than not, no one would come to the door. But when they did, they never knocked.
Mother stood in the kitchen when door opened, stirring a pot of soup. The same pot of soup she had been stirring all day, on and off. It smelled delicious, but they never seemed to get to eat it. She didn’t look up, just stared straight ahead as the group of young men and women entered the kitchen. Sometimes their armor was freshly polished, sometimes it bore the dirt and stains of days of travel and their boots tracked mud all over Mother’s clean floors. She never said a word. She only spoke when spoken to, as did Nora, whose place was in the hall upstairs. Their lines were carefully rehearsed, to be repeated as many times as they were prompted to.
Macie was usually ignored. She did her best to stand proudly, giving the visitors her sweetest smile, but few of them even glanced her way even when they did enter her room. Once one of the younger boys in the group rifled through the wardrobe drawers, as if expecting to find something. Macie stood very still, her smile trembling, Nora’s warnings ringing in her ears. Say nothing unless you’re spoken to. Don’t move, don’t even turn your head. Just smile no matter what. Macie thought at first, perhaps Nora was afraid of these people, though many of them were about the same age as she was. Perhaps it was because they were usually armed.
Once as a group turned around to leave, a young woman detached herself from her companions, crouching in front of Macie as if to get a better look. She smiled, and Macie decided it was a nice smile, even if the girl’s friend had left dirty footprints on the rug.
“What’s your name?”
Macie stood up a little straighter, delighted to finally say the words she had painstakingly rehearsed time and time again. “I’m Macie! Daddy went off to fight the evil King Remington and never came back. Now Mother and my sister Nora and I are all alone.”
The woman’s face fell. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”
“Celia-we’re leaving!” A young man’s voice, probably their leader’s, called from the hall.
“-coming!” Celia replied, hastily patting Macie on top of the head as if to try to comfort her. Then she was gone, and Macie frowned a bit at the open door.
Nora waited until she heard the front door close downstairs before entering the room from the hall, her brows knitted together. “Macie, did they take anything this time?”
Macie shook her head. “I hid it under the bed, like you said. They don’t look there.”
Nora shook her head, her frown deepening. “No, that’s for your own belongings-you were supposed to put it in the drawer for them.”
But even Celia’s nice smile could not shift Macie’s resolve once she had decided on something. “Mother needs that medicine if she gets too sick to work. I won’t give it away!”
Nora took her by the shoulders, anxious. “It’s the rules, Macie, I know we can’t afford any more but everyone has to give something-”
“Then give them something else!” Macie cried, stomping her foot. “They come in here and Mother gets all nervous-I thought it was exciting at first but all they do is make everything messy and we have to do more cleaning, and they go through my things and I have to watch and I hate it!”
Nora shushed her, not wanting Mother to hear, but Macie wouldn’t stand for it.
“Why do they come here! Why do we have to pretend like nothing’s wrong! It isn’t fair! Just lock the door and don’t let them in ever again!” She pulled at her apron strings. “And I hate this dress! It itches!”
Macie turned and ran down the stairs, Nora chasing close behind, catching her before she could make it to the front door. She then explained to Mother, who gave Macie a lecture the girl was firmly determined to ignore.
“I don’t make the laws in this town, it’s what we have to give in return for a quiet and peaceful life…those young people will save us from King Remington, young lady! Show more respect! I’ll give you another chance, but if you misbehave…”
Macie was confined to her room for a few days, staring forlornly out the window at her friends playing together in the street. Nora brought her meals, an expression something like sadness on her face. Whenever Macie asked, Nora would only say “You’re too little to understand.”
At night before Nora came to bed Macie sometimes heard her arguing with Mother downstairs, and would open the door a crack to listen.
“She deserves to know the truth-”
“Macie is only a child, she can’t possibly understand-besides, children can’t keep such secrets, you know what they’ll do if someone finds out she knows--don’t be a fool, Nora!”
“So we’re…lying to her! She thinks Father was killed by the King, but-we never had a Father to begin with, did we!?”
Mother gave a little gasp, and Nora was silent for a moment.
“I thought as much…it wasn’t that I was too young to remember him. He just never existed. The System gave us to you…”
“Go to bed, Nora,” Mother said quietly.
“Mother-”
“Does it make us any less of a family?”
Nora had nothing to say to that. A few moments later Macie heard her climbing the stairs, and shut the door as quietly as she could, slipping under the covers. Nora entered the room, standing for a moment by the bed before reaching down and hugging Macie tightly.
“You’re right, Macie…it isn’t fair. But you have to be good…for Mother’s sake.”
Macie nodded a little, but she wasn’t so sure if she meant it.
Part 2
The Death of a King by Isabella A Grigoli is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.