Story Lottery: Prompt: Full Moon: The Tower of Zatim [1/2]
Title: The Tower of Zatim
Genre: Fantasy/Adventure
Rating: PG
Prompt: full moon @ story_lottery
Summary: A young nobleman goes on a perilous journey to save a beautiful princess from the clutches of an evil magician.
Word Count:1,568 words
Disclaimer:All characters, plot points, words, etc., are my own and I infringe on no known copyrights. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is sheer coincidence.
A/N: Okay, I know it's not exactly a "story" story, but it's basically just a story in epic poem structure, so I count it. I would count it more as a story than as a real poem. I just like the way it looks this way, mostly.
In the North Kingdom, where the benevolent King Borik ruled,
There lived a nobleman named Alexei.
Alexei was tall and handsome and many of the
Ladies at court found him fine enough to marry,
Despite his ill-fated father and lower blood, barely noble.
For himself, there was only one match
Of which he approved: the king’s beautiful daughter, Yelena.
For years, he had admired her from afar
But finally, the night had come for
The king’s birthday gala. Every noble in the land was attending.
And there, at her father’s side, was Yelena.
Yelena, with her braided black hair and
Intelligent black eyes. Alexei wandered about,
Forcing himself to avoid her gaze.
At last, he could take it no longer and
Laid his enamored eyes on her extraordinary form.
She smiled, dragging him over to her
With her elegant, ebony soul-spiers.
He greeted her graciously, his lips merely gracing the air just above her hand.
“Good evening, princess.”
“Good evening,” she responded lightly. She glanced to
Her father, who was preoccupied with more important nobles.
She leaned in softly, her dark eyes glittering mischievously in the candlelight.
“I’d almost thought you were avoiding me, Lord Alexei.”
“Avoid you, princess?” the lord replied,
“how can I avoid you when your radiance fills the hall
With light and splendor? ‘Twould be an arduous task,
And one unwillingly undertaken, for I would prefer to
Gaze upon nothing but your exquisite countenance.
I had merely guessed you would be
Taxed by other, more worthy lords, vying for your attention.”
Yelena had the good sense to blush endearingly.
She laughed softly and seemed about to retort,
But was cut off quite suddenly by a
Great bash of noise against the enormous doors of the hall.
The oak doors swung freely and hit the walls
With a clatter that shook the nobles’ bones.
Into the hall stormed several mighty elephants, or rather,
Several mighty machines in the gargantuan shapes of elephants.
Their iron tusks waved through the air
And their magnificent black feet pounded the wooden floor.
Atop the leading mechanical wonder sat a high figure,
Tall and dark, with a black velvet cloak and a
Jeweled sword at his side.
The nobles gaped at this extravagant entrance,
Leaving the hall silent, save for the whirring of the machines’ inner workings.
“Your highness!” The dark figure addressed the king,
“I bid you good evening! May your health last many years
Into the future, and this gala be repeated many times over!”
He smiled slimily. Alexei stiffened, his hand moving
Automatically to his sword.
King Borik shook with anger,
“How dare you! You are not welcome here, Zatim!
Leave now! Before my men plunge their weapons into
Those hideous machines of yours!”
Zatim chuckled. With a swirl, the dark prince flew from his perch,
Landing squarely in front of the king’s table.
Alexei drew his sword, prepared to fight,
But the Zatim returned the gesture with a crooked smile
And he raised his right hand, his blow knocking the young noble to the floor.
The king’s guard surrounded the hall
And advanced on the foul prince.
Indeed, they seemed about to capture him,
But they saw not the twist of his hands
And with a sweep of his long, midnight cloak,
He and his machines vanished,
Leaving columns of black smoke in wake.
The hall stood in silent shock.
In the stillness, the king let out a horrified cry.
“My daughter! Yelena!” he shouted, flying to her seat, now empty;
He found nothing but the sweet remnants of her perfume.
The nobles erupted, spewing fear and accusations
Across the splendid hall. Alexei stood slowly.
His head pounded almost as painfully as his heart.
At the center of the chaos, the king
Fumed, screaming at his incompetent men who had
Let that monster steal his precious daughter away.
The head counselor rose to the head of the table
And lifted his long arms in a gesture of silence.
“Quiet!” Though he did not shout, the hall settled gloomily.
The counselor lowered his hands.
“Your highness. I understand that you are angry,
But these men are not inefficient.
Look at the strength and ingenious of Zatim’s machines. How could
Anyone have intercepted his villainous actions?”
He rested a cold, thin hand on the king’s shoulder.
“You must spend less time scolding
And should assemble a party to go retrieve Princess Yelena.
Time is not on our side.”
The king nodded slowly, though he continued
To glare at his guards.
“If they can’t prevent this atrocity
Here in the palace, how can they be trusted to
Bring her home safe, when they will be thrust out in the open world?”
His anger hung heavily on the soldier’s shoulders.
The head counselor turned to the noblemen in the hall.
“Your princess has been kidnapped
By the son of evil and you stand there gaping!
How has the North come to this?
Will no one stand for their king?
Is there not one man here who is not so spoiled in his luxury
That he sees fit to delegate grueling tasks
To others, when he himself is sufficient?”
The counselor had always had a deep disdain for nobility,
And often criticized their behavior to the king.
“I will go, Your Highness” Alexei declared. He
Bent on his knee in front of the grieving king and threw
His hand over his heart. “I will go to the castle of Prince Zatim
And I will bring your daughter home to you, I swear.”
None could have overlooked the conviction in his voice.
King Borik contemplated the young noble’s offer; he was both
Young and brave, but hadn’t his father come to such ruin?
Should not such a deed be cast upon
Someone with less tainted blood?
“I think, my lord,” the head counselor murmured,
“his is the best offer you will get from this crowd.”
Indeed, the other noblemen shrunk from the king,
Their airs and graces fallen to expose
The cowards within. Their leader sighed
And turned again to Alexei.
“Very well, Lord Alexei. If you can bring my daughter home safely,
You will have redeemed the failings of your father
And may return in glory, with my gratitude. But,”
He warned, his stormy eyes flaring, “should you fail,
You may as well hurl yourself into Zatim’s icy lake!
You will no longer be welcome in this land.”
His warning weighed heavily on Alexei’s heart.
The next morning, Alexei left the palace,
Bringing only himself, his sword, and a spare guard named Mikhail
With him on his journey. They travelled many nights,
Through the glass caves high in the mountains,
And over miles of tickling grass, until their skin
Was taut and red. When the moon was full and high in the sky,
They at last reached the edge of a still, black lake;
So still was it that it at first seemed nothing but
A mirror laid into the dark earth.
The air chilled the travelers’ bones and filled their hearts with dread.
At the center of the lake stood Prince Zatim’s castle,
Rising high on rocky cliffs to dominate the horizon.
“How are we supposed to get across?” Mikhail asked softly.
“There are no boats, no ferries, no bridges.”
Alexei stared with hatred at the dark lair’s outline.
“Zatim does not need such things, with black magic at his side.”
Mikhail nodded. He was a large and agile man, not
Easily frightened, though Alexei had begun to wonder
If this bravery was true valor or simply sheer stupidity.
Alexei looked around him; the area surrounding the lake
Was dense with ebony trees. Their bark was thick and stony;
It peeled in great strips from the body of the trees,
Exposing the red flesh inside. He picked up a large piece
Almost twice his height; it was light, but sturdy, and would make a
Decent raft. He tossed it onto the lake’s surface, causing
Harsh ripples to resonate through the water.
He looked at his companion. “Mikhail. You have been
A great help to me this far in my journey. But look around you.
There are no trees with bark
Strong enough to support you, my friend.
Your strength would have been of great use once in the fortress,
But I believe this must be where we part ways.”
Mikhail frowned. “Couldn’t I just swim, my lord? I will
Meet you on the other side.” He made to wade into the lake.
“Don’t!” Alexei commanded. “This lake is not what it seems.
Besides, I promised to rescue Yelena and
So it is my duty and mine alone. I would not risk your safety
In favor of my own.” With that, the young man stepped aboard his
Make-shift raft, using a smaller piece of bark as an oar.
Time seemed to stand still on the water,
As though the moon were hung permanently in the inky sky above.
Though he labored long, the castle never seemed any closer
And he began to doubt his judgment in undertaking the task at all.
Who was he to rescue a princess? He couldn’t even speak
To her at a dance without anxiety.
He caught himself and glanced up at the moon. Its calm indifference
Hardened him against the cold uncertainty of the lake.
Just as the last sliver of clear moonlight dipped behind
The castle’s shadow, Alexei knocked his raft against the shallow shore.
Genre: Fantasy/Adventure
Rating: PG
Prompt: full moon @ story_lottery
Summary: A young nobleman goes on a perilous journey to save a beautiful princess from the clutches of an evil magician.
Word Count:1,568 words
Disclaimer:All characters, plot points, words, etc., are my own and I infringe on no known copyrights. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is sheer coincidence.
A/N: Okay, I know it's not exactly a "story" story, but it's basically just a story in epic poem structure, so I count it. I would count it more as a story than as a real poem. I just like the way it looks this way, mostly.
In the North Kingdom, where the benevolent King Borik ruled,
There lived a nobleman named Alexei.
Alexei was tall and handsome and many of the
Ladies at court found him fine enough to marry,
Despite his ill-fated father and lower blood, barely noble.
For himself, there was only one match
Of which he approved: the king’s beautiful daughter, Yelena.
For years, he had admired her from afar
But finally, the night had come for
The king’s birthday gala. Every noble in the land was attending.
And there, at her father’s side, was Yelena.
Yelena, with her braided black hair and
Intelligent black eyes. Alexei wandered about,
Forcing himself to avoid her gaze.
At last, he could take it no longer and
Laid his enamored eyes on her extraordinary form.
She smiled, dragging him over to her
With her elegant, ebony soul-spiers.
He greeted her graciously, his lips merely gracing the air just above her hand.
“Good evening, princess.”
“Good evening,” she responded lightly. She glanced to
Her father, who was preoccupied with more important nobles.
She leaned in softly, her dark eyes glittering mischievously in the candlelight.
“I’d almost thought you were avoiding me, Lord Alexei.”
“Avoid you, princess?” the lord replied,
“how can I avoid you when your radiance fills the hall
With light and splendor? ‘Twould be an arduous task,
And one unwillingly undertaken, for I would prefer to
Gaze upon nothing but your exquisite countenance.
I had merely guessed you would be
Taxed by other, more worthy lords, vying for your attention.”
Yelena had the good sense to blush endearingly.
She laughed softly and seemed about to retort,
But was cut off quite suddenly by a
Great bash of noise against the enormous doors of the hall.
The oak doors swung freely and hit the walls
With a clatter that shook the nobles’ bones.
Into the hall stormed several mighty elephants, or rather,
Several mighty machines in the gargantuan shapes of elephants.
Their iron tusks waved through the air
And their magnificent black feet pounded the wooden floor.
Atop the leading mechanical wonder sat a high figure,
Tall and dark, with a black velvet cloak and a
Jeweled sword at his side.
The nobles gaped at this extravagant entrance,
Leaving the hall silent, save for the whirring of the machines’ inner workings.
“Your highness!” The dark figure addressed the king,
“I bid you good evening! May your health last many years
Into the future, and this gala be repeated many times over!”
He smiled slimily. Alexei stiffened, his hand moving
Automatically to his sword.
King Borik shook with anger,
“How dare you! You are not welcome here, Zatim!
Leave now! Before my men plunge their weapons into
Those hideous machines of yours!”
Zatim chuckled. With a swirl, the dark prince flew from his perch,
Landing squarely in front of the king’s table.
Alexei drew his sword, prepared to fight,
But the Zatim returned the gesture with a crooked smile
And he raised his right hand, his blow knocking the young noble to the floor.
The king’s guard surrounded the hall
And advanced on the foul prince.
Indeed, they seemed about to capture him,
But they saw not the twist of his hands
And with a sweep of his long, midnight cloak,
He and his machines vanished,
Leaving columns of black smoke in wake.
The hall stood in silent shock.
In the stillness, the king let out a horrified cry.
“My daughter! Yelena!” he shouted, flying to her seat, now empty;
He found nothing but the sweet remnants of her perfume.
The nobles erupted, spewing fear and accusations
Across the splendid hall. Alexei stood slowly.
His head pounded almost as painfully as his heart.
At the center of the chaos, the king
Fumed, screaming at his incompetent men who had
Let that monster steal his precious daughter away.
The head counselor rose to the head of the table
And lifted his long arms in a gesture of silence.
“Quiet!” Though he did not shout, the hall settled gloomily.
The counselor lowered his hands.
“Your highness. I understand that you are angry,
But these men are not inefficient.
Look at the strength and ingenious of Zatim’s machines. How could
Anyone have intercepted his villainous actions?”
He rested a cold, thin hand on the king’s shoulder.
“You must spend less time scolding
And should assemble a party to go retrieve Princess Yelena.
Time is not on our side.”
The king nodded slowly, though he continued
To glare at his guards.
“If they can’t prevent this atrocity
Here in the palace, how can they be trusted to
Bring her home safe, when they will be thrust out in the open world?”
His anger hung heavily on the soldier’s shoulders.
The head counselor turned to the noblemen in the hall.
“Your princess has been kidnapped
By the son of evil and you stand there gaping!
How has the North come to this?
Will no one stand for their king?
Is there not one man here who is not so spoiled in his luxury
That he sees fit to delegate grueling tasks
To others, when he himself is sufficient?”
The counselor had always had a deep disdain for nobility,
And often criticized their behavior to the king.
“I will go, Your Highness” Alexei declared. He
Bent on his knee in front of the grieving king and threw
His hand over his heart. “I will go to the castle of Prince Zatim
And I will bring your daughter home to you, I swear.”
None could have overlooked the conviction in his voice.
King Borik contemplated the young noble’s offer; he was both
Young and brave, but hadn’t his father come to such ruin?
Should not such a deed be cast upon
Someone with less tainted blood?
“I think, my lord,” the head counselor murmured,
“his is the best offer you will get from this crowd.”
Indeed, the other noblemen shrunk from the king,
Their airs and graces fallen to expose
The cowards within. Their leader sighed
And turned again to Alexei.
“Very well, Lord Alexei. If you can bring my daughter home safely,
You will have redeemed the failings of your father
And may return in glory, with my gratitude. But,”
He warned, his stormy eyes flaring, “should you fail,
You may as well hurl yourself into Zatim’s icy lake!
You will no longer be welcome in this land.”
His warning weighed heavily on Alexei’s heart.
The next morning, Alexei left the palace,
Bringing only himself, his sword, and a spare guard named Mikhail
With him on his journey. They travelled many nights,
Through the glass caves high in the mountains,
And over miles of tickling grass, until their skin
Was taut and red. When the moon was full and high in the sky,
They at last reached the edge of a still, black lake;
So still was it that it at first seemed nothing but
A mirror laid into the dark earth.
The air chilled the travelers’ bones and filled their hearts with dread.
At the center of the lake stood Prince Zatim’s castle,
Rising high on rocky cliffs to dominate the horizon.
“How are we supposed to get across?” Mikhail asked softly.
“There are no boats, no ferries, no bridges.”
Alexei stared with hatred at the dark lair’s outline.
“Zatim does not need such things, with black magic at his side.”
Mikhail nodded. He was a large and agile man, not
Easily frightened, though Alexei had begun to wonder
If this bravery was true valor or simply sheer stupidity.
Alexei looked around him; the area surrounding the lake
Was dense with ebony trees. Their bark was thick and stony;
It peeled in great strips from the body of the trees,
Exposing the red flesh inside. He picked up a large piece
Almost twice his height; it was light, but sturdy, and would make a
Decent raft. He tossed it onto the lake’s surface, causing
Harsh ripples to resonate through the water.
He looked at his companion. “Mikhail. You have been
A great help to me this far in my journey. But look around you.
There are no trees with bark
Strong enough to support you, my friend.
Your strength would have been of great use once in the fortress,
But I believe this must be where we part ways.”
Mikhail frowned. “Couldn’t I just swim, my lord? I will
Meet you on the other side.” He made to wade into the lake.
“Don’t!” Alexei commanded. “This lake is not what it seems.
Besides, I promised to rescue Yelena and
So it is my duty and mine alone. I would not risk your safety
In favor of my own.” With that, the young man stepped aboard his
Make-shift raft, using a smaller piece of bark as an oar.
Time seemed to stand still on the water,
As though the moon were hung permanently in the inky sky above.
Though he labored long, the castle never seemed any closer
And he began to doubt his judgment in undertaking the task at all.
Who was he to rescue a princess? He couldn’t even speak
To her at a dance without anxiety.
He caught himself and glanced up at the moon. Its calm indifference
Hardened him against the cold uncertainty of the lake.
Just as the last sliver of clear moonlight dipped behind
The castle’s shadow, Alexei knocked his raft against the shallow shore.