Child of Light - original story
So, I made a post about a story I’ve lost my notes for, an original project I hoped to turn into a trilogy. I had the ENTIRE THING planned out. Now I can’t find it. *sigh* Anyways, the bit I do have? Follows.
Title: Child of Light
Rating: PG13ish
They called it Darkland.
The place of nightmares, terror, tales of evil, blood, and death. Parents would frighten their children into obedience by saying, “I’ll send you to Darkland if you don’t listen!” Ghost stories were whispered of the Blood King, his Mad Queen, and their two children: the Dark Prince and Bloody Princess.
Just beyond the Haunted Forest, the border lay. No one entered the Forest, no one crossed the border. No one dared. Legends were told of the last man who did-his screams were heard for miles. No one had seen him since.
No one came out of the Forest from Darkland.
It was said that the Blood King stole the throne from his father when he was sixteen. He entered the Court one day and demanded his father step down. The Old King refused; the Blood King pulled his sword from his belt and lunged at his father.
The Guards moved too slowly and the Old King fell. His son declared, laughing, “I am now King.” He reached down and pulled the crown from the Old King’s head.
The courtiers bowed; the Blood King raised an eyebrow at the Guards. They quickly knelt. The Master of the Guard, an old man named Dorn, murmured “Long live the King.”
The Blood King smiled. He had dark brown hair, and his eyes shifted colors with his emotions. When he was angry, they were a stormy gray. When he was happy, they were light blue. He could have been called handsome, except that his cruelty could be read in every line of his face.
Not too long after he became King, he married a woman from the Forest. Said to be the daughter of Ku, God of Spirits, she was feared by the people. She was only seen once-during the wedding. Her hair was fire-red; her eyes dark green. She was not beautiful, in body or heart.
Called the Mad Queen, she was soon as hated as she was feared. The Blood King did not try to restrain her madness; he gave her anything she asked for. Whether because he loved her or respected the power of her father, none could say. Twice a year, she would have a “party” and invite young children from all over the country. Two boys and two girls were picked; the rest sent home. Those four were never seen again.
People said the four were sacrificed to Ku or Ta, Goddess of Night. Their blood and eyes were used for Seeing-a demented act of blasphemy. If a god did not choose to let a mortal See something, it broke all laws to See. But the Priests did not speak against the Queen’s atrocities, so the people quieted.
Three years after the marriage, the Queen bore a son. Normally a time of rejoicing, the people mourned. The people called him the “Dark Prince” because on the night of his birth, the moon could not be seen. No one, anywhere in the country, could see the moon.
One Prophet, Gifted visions by Tyran, God of Sight, murmured, “The Prince of Light shall flee the Land of Darkness. Unknown and unSeen shall his destiny be. Fated to be hated, hidden in dark light-Child of Dawn and Night.”
The old man spoke his piece and died. No one knew what he had Seen; no one heard his words.
After the birth of the Dark Prince, the Blood King’s cousin Darien fled to the Forest. He had been second in line for the throne, and felt the King might take exception to that. Even though they had been friends as boys, Darien was afraid for his life. And if one cannot be found, one cannot be killed.
No one ever saw the prince. He did not leave the castle.
Four years after the prince’s birth, the Blood King had a daughter. Seven years into his reign, the King was still hated. He killed anyone who angered him; the only ones beyond his wrath were his family: his wife and children. He executed all who opposed him. The people prayed for relief from his cruelties. None came.
Years passed. Thousands died. The Blood King cackled madly on his throne, and people starved in the streets. The Mad Queen had tea parties with spirits, and the Bloody Princess laughed at the walls.
But his son... the Dark Prince-
The Bloody Princess was often seen riding a pale-gray mare through the dying countryside. Her hair was burnished gold and she always wore black. On her hair, a dark crown lay. She was beautiful, on the outside. Time alone could tell about her soul. Only one person outside the castle’s walls had ever seen her eyes.
One night, when the princess was sixteen, her horse spooked. The mare bucked, and the princess leaped off. The horse ran, leaving her mistress lost. For hours, she wandered, until she came to a town. At the inn, she saw her horse drinking from the water trough. The princess wasn’t angry; she rarely lost her temper. She walked into the inn.
A young man, a few years older than her, looked up as she entered. “My princess,” he called across the room, “may I get you anything?” He was scrubbing the counter-top. Everyone else had gone home. He had black hair and his eyes were a deep, clear green-like jade.
She smiled at him, walked over to the bar. “Soup, if you have it,” she told him.
He nodded. As he walked away, he said over his shoulder, “You have beautiful eyes.” She flushed. He was gone a few minutes and then came back with a bowl. “Like the sky on a cloudless day,” he continued.
“Please,” she said, embarrassed by an honest compliment, “stop.”
He looked at her, searched deep inside her soul. “As you will it, Princess.” He placed the bowl in front of her, then returned to his chores. They didn’t say anything else; he never told anyone the princess had been in their town.
She left with one last look over her shoulder, then headed back to the castle.
The people hated and feared the King and Queen. They reserved judgment on the princess and knew nothing of the prince.
Ku and Ta favored the Blood King and his Mad Queen. Many countries tried to destroy them, to save the people from their madness.
But Darkland always prevailed.
On the other side of the Haunted Forest, the people of Anin prayed and waited. They begged their god, Wilnu, to keep them safe from the Blood King. They knew their King, Francis the Third, was weak, and could not stand if Darkland invaded.
Francis and his wife, Bella, had one child: a daughter, named Anna. She was beloved by the people of Anin; she brought light into the dank castle. She was born the year before the Bloody Princess. Anna’s eyes were dark blue, the color of twilight. Her hair was darker than obsidian, and her face glowed with inner light. She was a radiant child and grew into a beautiful woman.
Of course, the Mad Queen heard of Anna. “Twilight Eyes,” she sang to her husband, “Eyes of Sight. I must have them for the Spirit Lord to speak with me.”
“And where, darling,” he asked her, “shall I find twilight eyes?” His eyes glittered blue-gray, and his mouthed grinned the parody of a smile.
She twittered at him, her eyes shining with unholy light. A savagery peered from within her, and he remembered who her father was.
But the Blood King had never felt fear, and believed he never would.
“The Light Daughter, Child of Dawn,” the Mad Queen whispered to her king, “she has the eyes I need.”
The Blood King chuckled and placed his hands on either side of her face. “And where does this girl live?” he asked softly, dangerously. His eyes were storm gray.
The Queen pulled away, began spinning about the room, her laughter bouncing off the walls. “The daughter of Bella is she.”
The king threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Her eyes you shall have.”
One lone servant-girl heard the exchange. She told one man, who told another; soon the whole castle knew. The mice, cats, dogs, and birds picked it up and told each other. Finally, a day after the King and Queen spoke, the story came to a young raven named Wingsong.
Wingsong flew to a cabin in the middle of the Haunted Forest. Inside the cabin lived an old man named Dorn and his granddaughter, Cora.
Special Gifts were passed through family; members often had similar Gifts. Dorn had the Gift of Birdspeech; he understood all birds. Cora’s grandmother, Porah, could speak to plants. Dorn and Porah’s daughter, Mical, had no Gift save her voice: she could charm trees to dancing when she sang.
The Blood King, of course, was threatened by such a Gifted family. Soon after his marriage, he exiled Dorn, his wife, and daughter. He would have killed them, but Porah was loved by the people.
The three of them-Dorn, Porah, and Mical-moved to the Haunted Forest.
Had the King known Mical was pregnant, he would have killed them anyway.
Cora had the Gift of Speech; she could speak to any living thing. She had long ago befriended the creatures and plants of the Forest. None of them would harm her or Dorn, and protected the humans when they could.
Wingsong told Cora the story.
“They want Anin’s princess’s eyes?” Cora exclaimed.
{Yes, as I understand it,} Wingsong responded. {Ku, the Queen’s father, needs them, for some reason.}
“Then why not get them himself? Why tell the Queen?” Cora asked.
Wingsong chuckled. {Gods cannot interfere in mortal affairs.}
“What? But they are gods!”
Dorn watched as Cora waved her hands around and Wingsong fluffed his feathers. The old guardsman longed for the peace his land once had known, before the Blood King. “Gods have rules, too, Cora,” he told her softly and she quieted. “Long ago, before humans divided, there was one supreme god, who called himself Oran. He was fair and kind, but his will was law. Three lesser gods-Ku, Ta, and Ur-were angered by this. They banded together and convinced others to follow them.”
Dorn’s eyes were distant and Cora frowned. She moved over to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Granda,” she said quietly, “you need to rest.” He met her eyes and smiled warmly.
Wingsong squawked comfortingly. {She’s not ready to know, Old One,} the raven told Dorn, as Cora busied herself with dinner.
{I know,} he replied, watching his granddaughter. {But soon it will be too late.}
Dorn remembered the fear he felt the day Mical told him she was carrying Darien’s child.
“What? You carry the blood of the King in your womb?” Dorn exclaimed.
She had sobbingly confessed. “I love him, Papa! And he loves me!”
“No one can know he is the father, Mical! No one!”
She agreed.
Looking at the young woman before him, Dorn saw Darien in her. Dorn had trained the Blood King and Darien when they were boys; he had taught them to fight, to hunt, to kill. He often blamed himself for the King’s rise to power.
Cora was as kind as Mical and as hard as Darien. Dorn knew that had Mical lived past Cora’s birth, things would be very different. And if that winter hadn’t been so cold, Porah would have changed things as well. But only Dorn had lived to raise his granddaughter, and he had taught her as he would a boy. She could fight hand-to-hand and with weapons; she could track and hunt, though she had no need of either.
Dorn knew that if the Blood King ever found out Darien had a child, there would be very little he could do about it. He just prayed that the little boy he remembered still lived in the cruel King somewhere.
Cora, of course, did not know who her father was. Dorn just prayed that he hadn’t made a mistake.
“Granda?”
Dorn turned at the soft voice. “Yes, Cora?”
She licked her lips, looking nervous. “I know I shouldn’t ask, Granda. But... how did the Blood King get that name?”
Dorn sighed. He sat down and gestured for her to sit beside him. “I knew sooner or later you’d ask, darling. You know I trained him when he was a boy?” She nodded. “He was such a nice a child, Cora. Such a sweet boy.” He smiled gently. “He treasured all life. He has a Gift; few ever knew of it.”
“What is his gift, Granda?” There was an expression on her face he had never seen before. Dorn knew he had to tread lightly; she was not ready to know.
“I cannot tell you, Cora.” He was truly regretful that he couldn’t tell her.
{Riders coming,} Wingsong called.