Writing post 5
Title: Breaking Point
Series: D'Amantru (RPG/Owner's series)
Rating: PG-13 (Imagery)
Word count: 707
The air about him was cold, far colder than it should be even so high up in the mountains. Akula’s pale blue eyes scanned across the scene laid out before him. It’d killed his hopes and sank his heart when he finally let his own eyes fall upon what turned out to be a former Avizon village. It was a burnt out husk of what it once was, the weathering of time barely leaving the remains of the once proud society standing.
A hesitant step forward was taken, soon followed by more. There was an overwhelming sense of fear and pain still lingering over the fallen village, and it was having obvious effects on Akula. Wincing slightly as he past the first house, he hugged his arms around himself and closed off his mind, but even that could not block out the sheer weight of the aura that still hung in the air. No matter where he looked pangs of fear rattled him, screams long since silenced ringing in his ears. It was a horrid sensation but he continued to press on, hoping to find someone still alive, to find some small bastion of hope for his species.
Akula had no such luck, for pressing further into the ruins only caused more weight to bare down upon him. It was all so much to process, what seemed to be hundreds of voices played themselves out in his mind, all nothing but people in the throes of death. His head snapped up as he suddenly realized a small speck of happiness gleamed in the mass of sorrow. Stumbling forward, Akula tripped and fell to the ground in front of the warm emotion’s source. Coughing from within the cloud of dust he’d kicked up, he reached to take hold of the item.
It was a doll. A child’s toy, made by a mother for a daughter with all the love one would expect. Brushing away the dust and dirt from years of being left out to the mercy of the elements, he sat back and held it in his hands, studying it intently. It proved to him that the village was at one time a place of happiness and content for his people, even if it was now just a burnt out shell. Silently asking for the doll’s owner to forgive him for holding onto the little bastion of hope, Akula carefully tucked the doll into one of his pockets.
Any and all color drained from Akula’s face as a his surroundings started to dawn upon him. Slowly lifting his head up, he found himself in the village square. Or, more correctly, what had become the village’s mass grave. Charred bones were piled high, even higher than Akula was tall. The smile he’d worn only moments before faded to a look of horror, the young Avizon fumbling backwards as he felt a wave of emotions rolling toward him.
Wish as he may for an easy way out, Akula’s swift mental reflexes failed him and he was overwhelmed by the unseen wave, his body locking up and falling to the ground as he gagged before starting to writhe in the dirt, the sheer force of the mental assault blowing away his defenses, opening his mind wide to the torrent. Full blown screams of horror ripped through his mind as he experienced the final day of the village as if he were there on the day it happened.
Women. Children. Men trying to defend their families. None were given even a shred of mercy. They were slain like cattle and dragged to the village square to be reduced to ash. Yet Akula held onto his sanity as he was assaulted by these long forgotten memories, until one finally broke the dam. It was not but one word. Vengeance. With but a word Akula’s mind grew silent and his body stopped moving, then everything seemingly exploded. Howling in anguish, his sanity was lost into a sea of wrath.
It was several hours before there were any signs of life from the area, but something finally stirred. It was something massive, something bestial. Heavy breath heaved from its lungs as it turned its gaze toward Ametiton. Despair was going to reign once again.
Series: D'Amantru (RPG/Owner's series)
Rating: PG-13 (Imagery)
Word count: 707
The air about him was cold, far colder than it should be even so high up in the mountains. Akula’s pale blue eyes scanned across the scene laid out before him. It’d killed his hopes and sank his heart when he finally let his own eyes fall upon what turned out to be a former Avizon village. It was a burnt out husk of what it once was, the weathering of time barely leaving the remains of the once proud society standing.
A hesitant step forward was taken, soon followed by more. There was an overwhelming sense of fear and pain still lingering over the fallen village, and it was having obvious effects on Akula. Wincing slightly as he past the first house, he hugged his arms around himself and closed off his mind, but even that could not block out the sheer weight of the aura that still hung in the air. No matter where he looked pangs of fear rattled him, screams long since silenced ringing in his ears. It was a horrid sensation but he continued to press on, hoping to find someone still alive, to find some small bastion of hope for his species.
Akula had no such luck, for pressing further into the ruins only caused more weight to bare down upon him. It was all so much to process, what seemed to be hundreds of voices played themselves out in his mind, all nothing but people in the throes of death. His head snapped up as he suddenly realized a small speck of happiness gleamed in the mass of sorrow. Stumbling forward, Akula tripped and fell to the ground in front of the warm emotion’s source. Coughing from within the cloud of dust he’d kicked up, he reached to take hold of the item.
It was a doll. A child’s toy, made by a mother for a daughter with all the love one would expect. Brushing away the dust and dirt from years of being left out to the mercy of the elements, he sat back and held it in his hands, studying it intently. It proved to him that the village was at one time a place of happiness and content for his people, even if it was now just a burnt out shell. Silently asking for the doll’s owner to forgive him for holding onto the little bastion of hope, Akula carefully tucked the doll into one of his pockets.
Any and all color drained from Akula’s face as a his surroundings started to dawn upon him. Slowly lifting his head up, he found himself in the village square. Or, more correctly, what had become the village’s mass grave. Charred bones were piled high, even higher than Akula was tall. The smile he’d worn only moments before faded to a look of horror, the young Avizon fumbling backwards as he felt a wave of emotions rolling toward him.
Wish as he may for an easy way out, Akula’s swift mental reflexes failed him and he was overwhelmed by the unseen wave, his body locking up and falling to the ground as he gagged before starting to writhe in the dirt, the sheer force of the mental assault blowing away his defenses, opening his mind wide to the torrent. Full blown screams of horror ripped through his mind as he experienced the final day of the village as if he were there on the day it happened.
Women. Children. Men trying to defend their families. None were given even a shred of mercy. They were slain like cattle and dragged to the village square to be reduced to ash. Yet Akula held onto his sanity as he was assaulted by these long forgotten memories, until one finally broke the dam. It was not but one word. Vengeance. With but a word Akula’s mind grew silent and his body stopped moving, then everything seemingly exploded. Howling in anguish, his sanity was lost into a sea of wrath.
It was several hours before there were any signs of life from the area, but something finally stirred. It was something massive, something bestial. Heavy breath heaved from its lungs as it turned its gaze toward Ametiton. Despair was going to reign once again.