tomC12
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I will Finish Self-Editing my Adven...
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Fully editing a chapter every two days and posting the completed chapter on the 2nd day, the day it is completed.
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My Commitment Journal
 tomC12
August 26, 2019, 5:43 PM
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Chapter Twenty: Corrin grips the whistle hanging around his neck and gazes at the man who disgraced his master. With one blow, he can alert the Carnesians who’ll round him up like a lost steer. All Carnesian soldiers of Bohr know Jiren’s command whistle and that he rewards only with gold. Smiling, he rubs the tool with jittery fingers and savors its metallic touch. With this, he is more powerful and divine than any blessing could ever make him feel, not that Jiren needs to know of course. Bringing the whistle to his lips, he quickly rips it away as he watches the two men wade the boat through the crowd. What good is retribution if they don’t know it’s him to be feared? That man must cower and beg for his life before him and before him alone. His mouth salivates at the thought. In great strides he marches over to them. Pulling off his hood, he stands in their way and raises his arms. “Stop right there heathens.” They quickly drop the boat and his heart flutters. “You will face the wrath of my master an-” “Get out of our way.” His nostrils flare. Corrin takes a step back and the man comes closer. “D-don’t you dare touch me. I can send you to the gallows.” He blows the whistle and the man knocks him to the ground. “Oof.” Coughing from the dust, he points to Cain. “Seize him and Jiren will pay you in mountains of gold. Capture or kill the one with the boat right now.” He blows the whistle several more times. The man sneers and kicks a wave of dirt in his face. They then pick up the canoe and run off. Corrin sits and watches the Carnesian soldiers run after him. That fool, how could he not be afraid of me? Just how? Doesn’t he know who I am? Doesn’t he? He sniffles and rubs the sand covering his glasses with a cloth. Tears well up in his eyes and he doesn’t know if they’re from dust or despair. |
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tomC12
August 26, 2019, 4:17 PM
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Chapter Nineteen: Raj’s lungs burn from sucking down air. He runs to keep up with Father in the forest. Every tree, root, and plant looks the same to him and he wonders how Father can possibly remember the way. Through twists and turns, over giant leaves and thorn bushes, they come to a stop at a wall of trees perfectly aligned, spanning farther than the eye can see. At the base and up a meter high, is an impassable wall of oak. “Father, what is this?” He scratches his head. “It’s the divide between the forest and Town of Bohr.” He grips the bark and pulls himself over the wall up between the two trunks. “This has been here longer than anyone can remember. No one knows how or why it was built, though there are stories.” He jumps over onto the other side. “The town road is just over it.” Raj jumps and pulls himself up over, between the two trunks. “What kind of stories?” He looks down and sees a cobblestone road just shy of encroaching on the forest. “None you would believe.” Father coolly speed walks down the path. “He hops off and follows him on the road. “Try me.” “Okay, worshippers of Illia, the God of Wine, became so intoxicated, they lost their sanity and became habitual cannibals who raided the village with animalistic minds. The villagers discovered natural barriers could bar the savages so they built a wall of oak trees after a century of being attacked.” “Yep, don’t believe it.” Father smirks. “I thought so.” They maintain a quick pace down the winding road and for the first time, Raj is able to keep stride with Cain. Finding himself about to pass him, he disappears from Raj’s peripheral view. He stops and looks down at Father who lies face first on the ground. “Ahg, my heel, my fucking heel.” He sits up and holds his left foot with both hands. Raj kneels down beside him. “What happened? Are you injured?” “Damn, damn it all.” His face turns red and he stomps his heel onto the ground. “I know it now. I know what it is.” Father’s body shakes with laughter. “I don’t even have to see it.” Raj takes a step back and catches a glimpse of Father’s left heel. On it, is a large black Orka mark covering the circumference of the heel. He sits down on the road and listens to the roar of Father’s laugh. His body feels weak and his arms limp. Never has he seen Father laugh like this or even smile for so long. Soon he becomes quiet and they have only the hiss of the wind to fill their ears. Cain stands, brushing the dirt off his ragged clothes. “We’ll all die soon enough. But as of right now, this changes nothing. We’re getting that boat and you’re leaving, understand?” “Y-yes, but,” He slowly rises and Father raises a brow. “Are you sure about going into town?” He shrugs. “Orka only spreads through spit and blood. If I see any Carnesians, I’ll be sure to spit on them, accidentally. Other than that, I’ll try not to spread it.” He meets his eye. “Are you sure that’s the only way it spreads?” Father nods. “Then how did you get it on your foot?” “Lora’s saliva must have dripped onto it.” “Okay, but on your foot and nowhere else? Doesn’t that seem a little odd to you?” He stomps on the ground and his voice rises. “I am going with you into the village and that’s final.” His voice echoes across the road. Raj faces the road ahead of them and walks down the path. Neither say another word on the road. After hours of silence they reach the end of and come across the town ahead of them. Standing over a hill, they look down at brick and wood buildings ahead leading to a harbor of boats in port. Emerald blue waters stretch on seemingly forever and dwarf the tall buildings and town as a whole. Salty fumes enter Raj’s nostrils as he squints, seeing busy merchants, buyers, and townsfolk moving about like ants in scattered disarray. Going down the hill, they make it onto a town road with sun bleached houses at the sides. Chips of paint cling to the homes, each with broken windows and wood rotting somewhere on the structure. What happened to these homes? Is no one taking care of them? Where is their caretaker? He looks around and between the houses in the alleys he sees hordes of people. In the light shadow of the building in huddled crowds, are men, women, and children. On their bodies are Bardian tattoos and only a bare amount of clothing covering their private areas. Raj can’t help but stare at a skinny young boy on the edge of the alley. They meet eyes and the boy points at him. “Rich brothers, rich brothers are here.” He jumps up and down in excitement as a woman guides him out the alley. “They help us please.” Prodding him forward, the boy runs out to them. His gait is clumsy and his legs resemble walking sticks. Father leans close to Raj’s ear. “Ignore the street rats.” The boy stops in front of Raj.“Food, give food. Or money, I hungry, we all hungry.” His eyes and cheeks are sunken in and it makes him appear more skeleton than child. Before Raj can say a word, Cain points back to the alleys. “Go away, street rat. We have nothing to give you.” Raj turns to Father and scowls. “Why can’t we give him something? This child is starving.” “Because it’s pointless to help a street rat.” Father glares down at the boy. “They have no past or future.”’ Raj folds his arms. “Neither do we.” The boy stares at them with wide eyes, unsure of what to make of them. Father stomps his foot. “Go on, get out of here.” The boy’s face contorts and he lets out an end-of-the-world wail. Crying, he runs back to the alley and Raj feels shame for ever being scared of them. He stares at father and his blood boils. “You condemn Jiren for being selfish, but you’re no different. Neither of you would help the dying. You’re a hypocrite.” Father stops in his tracks, his back facing Raj. “If I helped every beggar here, I’d be one. That boy will be hungry again tomorrow even if I help him.” “You could keep him from dying soon and you only had to help that one child.” “One, two, three, twenty, the number is arbitrary. Charity is a gateway to prostitution for just one person.” He starts walking again. “Besides, we have to buy that rowboat.” Raj bites his tongue to keep himself from saying words that would surely divorce him from Father. He follows him down the road and thinks of the children starving in the alleys, just a short distance from them. They’ll never inherit land or anything of worth, but will likely die young and hungry. A future was never promised to them, unlike himself, and he’s been given many chances to live when threatened, plus a good life until now. All things they haven’t. What right does he have to live, or even live well, over them? None of those people want to be there and many of them probably don’t have a choice. He doesn’t deserve what he has and his attainment of fortune comes from the pure luck of being born in the right family. So how then can he carry on, if his fortune is baseless and unearned? He shoots another glance at the alleys crowded with idle people and walks with Father. Would it be better to join them so he isn’t plagued by grief of his unearned privileges? But who among them wouldn’t give up their situation to be in his? Is it not a mockery to give up what they’d covet to then join them in ruin? Surely, they’d take advantage of his situation if put there. It doesn’t help anyone to throw oneself into depravity. Yet, is that really a rational to never give? Who can give to just one when there are so many, and who isn’t tempted to give to none when overwhelmed by a crowd? He scratches his throbbing head as he stands by Father who bargains with the merchant. “Is this what you want?” The Merchant strokes his long grey beard. “With the paddles.” Cain folds his arms. The Merchant scratches his head. “Oh it’ll be extra.” “What? We can’t move without paddles.” Cain rolls his eyes. “Give it free.” “Take it or leave it.” The Merchant yawns. Cain begrudgingly places the coins on the table and the Merchant lifts the canoe onto the stand. Together, they carry the boat down the road as civilians blending in with the crowd of bustling townsfolk. This really is a strange world. |
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tomC12
August 23, 2019, 5:11 PM
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Chapter Eighteen: Cain walks off the path and into the forest to where his home is, back to Raj and Lora. His left heel aches with each step, as if advising him to walk no further and it’s been bothering him ever since Lora became sick, since last night. Perhaps it is an omen, a warning of some kind that he cannot yet interpret. He’s never considered himself superstitious about things, or even religious like Lora, but he had a feeling Jiren wouldn’t help them, from only hearing things of him. He’s married a sweet woman, but she sure can be so naive to the world at times. Oh Lora, why has fate made it so ours deaths must be carried out together? But, what is most cruel of all is that she’ll go before him. He’ll be alone, so horribly alone that he may just take a knife to that large vein of his neck and - no he mustn't think like that. He has to set an example for the boy now on how to suffer and die properly. But, suffering is something he’s shown the boy every day on the farm through toil and sweat, yet he’s weak in character where he should be strong. Raj protesting in front of Lora and him passes in his mind and he wonders if he has helped raise a dependent infant into an entitled youth. Everything he’s forced the boy through was a means to give and all he meant to give was to strengthen, but did he give too much? He’s resolved to remain steadfast in suffering, but going to the end of where death will consume him shakes even his will. Who doesn’t wince at the thought of being devoured by destiny as a beast snaps the neck of its prey? A knife to the throat when he has nothing left but aching dwindling hours makes sense, doesn’t it? If his fear of lonelineless and intolerance for pain drives him to suicide as passions drive lovers to orgasm, and a bottle to the alchoholic, can he really say he’s suffered and died well? His left heel throbs as he stands gazing at the house. It strikes him that he’ll only look onto the house he built with his own two hands just a few more times. He walks through the door and see Raj sitting, resting his head on the kitchen table asleep. The house is quiet and Lora must also be sleeping. He places a hand on his shoulder and shakes him. “Wake up.” Raj startles and looks up at him. “Am I leaving with Jiren now?” “No, he refused to help. You and I will go to town for a rowboat. That’s how you’ll leave.” He stands. “You’re kidding me?” “Lower your voice.” His voice lowers into a whisper. “How am I to survive the ocean with nothing but a rowboat?” “Maybe you won’t.” He stares daggers at the boy. “But you must leave here. Orka is back in Bard and it spreads like wildfire. Unknown islands are rumored to be far off the coast, so try looking for those.” Raj bites his lip. “Fine, I’ll do as you say Father.” Cain blinks. “Follow me to town then.” He runs out the door with Raj trailing behind him. |
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tomC12
August 22, 2019, 10:21 PM
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Chapter Seventeen Jiren stuffs another chocolate bonbon into his mouth and devours it without a second thought. He ignores the crumbs sprinkled over his round belly and enjoys the short burst of sweetness that tantalizes his tongue. But the flavor soon becomes stale after finishing his twelth one and his thoughts then turn to the journey ahead of him. Corrin sure is taking awhile. Arranging the boat and getting affairs in order shouldn’t take this long. Then again, it’s been awhile since the last missionary trip. The boy must be out of practice. Someone knocks at the door and his eyes shift over to the locked entrance. It can’t be Corrin. The lad has a key and no reason to knock. The knocking continues. If not Corrin, who in the gods names would visit him at this hour? Are they zealots? Maybe the boy lost his key again. That oaf can never get it together. He’s lucky to have such a benevolent master. He waddles over to the door and opens it, catching his breath along the way. Expecting Corrin, he frowns as an old man in ragged clothes appears before him. He grips the door handle and prepares to slam it shut, but it won’t move. Looking down, he sees the man is blocking it with his foot. “Who in the Gods names are you, and do you know what time it is?” The man doesn’t bat an eye. “My name is Cain and I’m Lora’s husband. You’ve worked with her before from what I understand.” He raises a brow. “I know the girl, but now’s not the time for a reunion. Leave at once.” “I would, but Lora is sick you see. Our son is at risk and needs to leave home.” His face twitches. “That’s too bad, but I really don’t care.” He folds his arms. “And I have no idea what you want me to do about it.” Jiren pushes the door with both hands, but it doesn’t move an inch. “Take him on your trip and save his life. Are you not yourself a righteous holy man?” His voice taunts him. His face turns bright red. “You fool, do you not know the lengths I already go to, to give service to the Gods? Your son is a grain of sand compared to the collosal importance of my work of fighting for the balance of our world. Now remove your foot and go away.” Cain smirks. “You should probably learn to balance your weight first.” His voice thunders. “What do you want now? I told you already, the answer is no. Are you content to insult me at my own door before dawn?” “Your galley is oversized for you and your servant. Good works are your vocation. My wife worked for your cause for many years and helped you, so why won’t you help us?” He takes off his robe, drops it to the floor, and reveals his fat naked body covered in Godly tattoos on every surface of skin, just below his neck. His arms extend to his sides. “Do you not see this? The Gods deem my work so important, they made it my destiny to wear all their marks. Your needs are a mere paper tiger in the windstorm of my importance. I am a divine overseer who’s blessings know no bounds. I am great, you hear me? Trouble me no longer now.” He closes his eyes and presses his palms together. “Leave or else I will curse you for the rest of your short life.” Cain chuckles. “It seems the Gods have already cursed you with something short.” Jiren’s eyes open wide. “Insolence.” He walks up to him, but Cain closes the door before he can approach. Jiren throws it open. “How dare you? Do you know who I am?” He turns his back and walks away without even acknowledging the man. Jiren speed walks after him, his belly jiggling with each step. As he follows, a young man with thick glasses appears down the path facing them. It’s Corrin. “Master?” He squints. “Why’re you naked?” He looks to Cain about to pass him and at Jiren running after him. He points. “Is that man bothering you?” Jiren stops in his tracks and nods vigorously. Corrin spreads his arms apart and stands in Cain’s way. “You have some nerve disturbing Master Jiren this day, and on our missionary departure of all times, have you no shame?” Without a word, Cain kicks him square in the stomach. He falls over and curls into a ball. “Oooohhh.” He continues down the path, away from them. Jiren kneels down beside him. “Are you alright Corrin?” “My chest Master, it hurts.” He groans and becomes quiet. “Sh-should we call the Carnesian soldiers? Your coin can earn loyalty and bring payback.” He strokes the boy’s head. “Not yet my boy, we’ll exact our revenge, but now we must wait. I’ll take what is precious from that infidel and strike when it is right.” |
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