Meridian's Story

[SabrinaLove]

This will take a few posts in this thread for the whole story. It's a terrible title but I just can't find my muse for that. I'll take any suggestions a reader wants to give! The genre is fantasy. Be gentle dear reviewer!

Wow.

Gerald couldn’t think of anything except this single word: Wow. As an eight-year-old born and raised in the Depths, he had never seen or heard of anyone ever doing what he saw. No one in his memory was that strong.

Gerald stood about four feet tall and had a mop of strawberry blonde hair that covered his misty gray eyes. His mother was constantly after him with shearing clippers to no avail. His hair simply grew too fast. Gerald’s hair really didn’t bother him. He simply accepted it as apart of him like his multitude of freckles. Gerald brushed the hair out of his eyes to get a better look at what he was watching.

Gerald was watching a man bend a plow. Gerald watched the man crumple the plow into a ball and he heard the crowd murmur around him. He caught bits of conversation like “that’s Oth, the cleric” and “those are the Heroes of Hale.”

Gerald knew the name “Heroes of Hale”. He and his friends played warriors often and Heroes of Hale was their current favorite. Everyone in town praised the names of the warriors who eradicated the undead that had plagued their city.

He had never seen the Heroes before now. His friends said the Heroes of Hale were nine feet tall with heaven’s horns on their head and had eyes that shot fireballs. These men weren’t nine feet tall and it didn’t look like their eyes did anything but see. Just incase, Gerald looked around to see if anything was on fire. He was mildly disappointed when he couldn’t spot any blazes. He looked back at the man bending the plow and saw a regular sized man in traveling clothes. He stood about 5’ 10” with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was a lean man but emitted a strength that would cause most men to think twice before picking a fight with him.

The hesitancy on the part of men to cause trouble could also have been caused by glancing at Oth’s large friend. Oth’s friend, Krum, stood almost seven feet tall and his multitudes of large muscles rippled with his every move. Simply running his hand through his long brown hair showed off at least twenty different chiseled muscles. Most people would have passed Krum off as rather slow because of his size, but one look in the man’s dark eyes belied intelligence not usually present in large beings. Krum seemed impatient but amused by Oth’s show of strength.

Another man was with Oth and Krum but he didn’t match the description of any of the other Heroes of Hale. The third man was a half elf about 5’ 5” with a lean build and a bow strung across his back. He seemed more impatient than Krum and a little jumpy. His eyes were dark also and a light mane flowed gently down his back.

Looking back at Oth, Gerald was a little confused about why Oth was bending a perfectly good plow. He had watched Oth storm out of the tavern with purpose in his eye. Gerald had stared as Oth strode past him and grabbed the plow. Now he was watching in awe as Oth threw the plow over his shoulder. Gerald felt the vibrations from the impact. The plow hit the ground and left a depression in the ground where it landed.

Gerald stared as Oth addressed the crowd, “This,” he said indicating the plow, “was done with the strength of Krunth. He is the God of strength and might.”

Oth’s eyes swept the crowd and stopped on Gerald. Gerald was staring with his mouth and eyes wide open. Oth approached Gerald and hunched down to Gerald’s height. Gerald almost stepped backwards in awe but realized people were watching so he held his ground. Oth smiled in recognition of Gerald’s inner battle.

Oth spoke kindly to Gerald saying, “What is your name?”

“Gerald.”

“Remember, Gerald, what you saw was done with the might of Krunth. Take this to help you remember.”

Oth handed Gerald a small medallion of wood with an image of eight evenly spaced arrows pointing out from a center point burned on its surface. Oth also handed Gerald a small book. Oth mussed Gerald’s hair and stood.

Gerald muttered a thank you as Oth turned and walked back to his companions. Gerald fingered the medallion as he watched the Heroes walk out of his town, Meridian.

 

[SabrinaLove]

Part 2: Meridian's Story

Gerald could hardly believe his luck. He was sure he was the only boy in town to get something from someone famous. He let out a whoop, and ran home as fast as his young legs would carry him with the medallion firmly clasped in his hand and the book stuffed deep into his pocket.

Gerald’s home was a modest mushroom farm on the outskirts of Meridian. His family worked hard but never could seem to make more than just enough to provide for their own family. Gerald’s father and older brother labored all day in the fields to put food on the table. Gerald did small chores and such but was not strong enough to control the giant lizards used in the fields.

Gerald raced past the fields to the house. He burst through the door and ran to his mother’s side. Gerald’s mother, Elizabeth, pushed her curly blonde hair back from her face and fixed her green eyes on Gerald. Gerald’s mother knew intuitively that Gerald had something exciting to tell her so she sat down and listened intently.

Gerald’s mother was a very patient woman. Her kindness was known throughout the town and people came to her for her gentle healing touch. She never charged for her remedies, which, as a practical man, irritated Gerald’s father to no end.

Gerald’s mother listened politely then asked, “Where is the cloth I sent you to pick up?”

Gerald’s enthusiasm crumbled as he realized he forgot what he was sent to town to do. He apologized profusely as his mother set the table for lunch. She assured him it wasn’t a big problem and he could go back after lunch for it, but Gerald felt bad for letting his mother down. Gerald put the medallion in his pocket with the book and helped his mother set the table in silence.

Soon, his father and brother stomped in the door and strode straight to the sink to wash up. They looked tired, hungry and dirty. Gerald’s father was discussing a new weeding method he wanted to try with Gerald’s brother, Phillip. Gerald’s father’s gruff voice matched his appearance. Gerald’s father, Herald, was a rough looking man, short and stocky. Herald was born and raised in the Depths so he was no stranger to danger and stronger for it. His skin was very pale making his dark brown eyes appear larger than they actually were. His father was known for his strength and steadfastness around town. He was known for keeping his wits about him but having no patience for foolishness.

After they were done washing, everyone sat at the table and began eating. Gerald looked at his brother Phillip. Phillip was tall and strong. He was ten years Gerald’s senior. Phillip had Gerald’s same hair color inherited from their mother but Phillip had dark brown eyes instead of Gerald’s gray. Gerald knew Phillip was quiet and reserved with people but was sure Phillip would marry eventually. Even if Phillip’s wife hated soil, Gerald knew Phillip would never leave the farm. Phillip was very dedicated to anything he applied himself towards especially the family farm.

After everyone had time to consume a good portion, Gerald’s mother spoke.

“Gerald was telling me the most interesting story about what happened in town this morning. Why don’t you tell your father and brother what happened.”

Gerald stuttered a little as he began telling them about the morning’s events but soon gained momentum and ended with a flourish by putting the medallion and prayer book on the table in front of his father. His father looked at the book and medallion. A strange expression came over his face and he rose from the table.

Gerald’s father walked back to the main bedroom and rummaged around for a couple of minutes. He walked back into the dining area carrying an ancient looking book.

“This book was your great grandfather’s.” He said. “This has been in the family but no one ever read it. It was one of the few things your great grandfather was able to bring to the Depths. Your grandfather didn’t think much of it but kept it to remember his father.”

The ancient book’s cover was similar to the book Gerald was given.

Gerald’s mother asked, “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Gerald’s father replied.

They all gathered around Gerald’s father as he opened the antique book. After skimming through the first pages, Gerald’s father read aloud.

Oh mighty Krunth, my strength to Thee
Thy glory shines about me
Thy favor is evident
Help me fight with honor
Help me be victorious over mine opponents
For Thou art mine strength

“Hmm.” said Gerald’s father. “It’s a prayer book.” He looked at the book Gerald brought home. “This one is also.” He skimmed through the pages.

“Here’s religious ceremonies . . . and here are theoretical ruminations. Interesting. Too bad the Gods have turned their backs on us in The Depths.” Gerald’s father threw the book on the table with disgust.
Gerald’s mother gasped.

“Oh come now. This is no surprise to you!” Chastised Gerald’s father harshly. “If the Gods still cared, we would not be slaving down here! They would have freed the innocent and left only the guilty to rot in this hole!”

Gerald’s mother softly replied, “I know how you feel but we agreed not to speak of this in front of the children. Let’s discuss something else, shall we?”

Gerald’s mother deftly seized the books and wisped them out of sight.
The family finished the meal in silence and returned to their duties quickly.

Gerald didn’t seem phased by what his father said. He merely picked up the medallion and put it back in his pocket. He was still the only boy in town with a gift from the Heroes of Hale. Phillip, however, couldn’t get the books out of his mind all day. He didn’t understand his father’s reaction. He had always accepted that there were no gods in the Depths. What he didn’t understand was his father’s apparent fury about it. Still, he was curious about what the god named Krunth stood for and His teachings.

 

[SabrinaLove]

Part 3: Meridian's Story

Phillip’s eyes popped open. He groaned, rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. Even as he lay there, he knew sleep was far away with no intention to visit again soon. Phillip had dreamed about the book. His dream was vague and unsettling. It was full of visions where the book opened and engulfed Phillip with blinding light.

Finally, he could stay in bed no longer. He rolled out of bed and stood indecisively. Quietly, he walked over to mantle where Gerald’s book sat. He looked at it. He picked it up. Phillip knew Gerald wouldn’t mind if Phillip read a little of the book. With a shrug, he lit a candle and situated himself at the table. He opened the book slowly, inhaled, and started to read. The more he read, the more fascinated he became with this god named Krunth.

Time decided to play a trick on Phillip and sped up. Or so it seemed to Phillip. Finally, he stretched and realized he had been up way too long. He replaced the book and crept back into his bed. He groaned when he thought about waking up in the morning but quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

In the morning, he awoke and didn’t feel nearly as bad as he thought he would. The day seemed to fly past as he pondered what he had read in Gerald’s book the night before. Luckily, he wasn’t hurt by his inattention to his daily tasks. When ever inside the house, he found himself drawn to the book and would catch himself staring at it. That night, he crept out of bed again when everyone was asleep.

He lit a match, turned to the table and almost jumped out of his skin. He didn’t expect to see his mother sitting at the table. She had Gerald’s book in her lap.

“Sit.” She said gesturing to a chair.

Phillip sat down and looked at his mother with a bit of wonderment in his eyes.

“I know you are curious about what you are reading in this book.” She held up her hand to stave off any denials from Phillip and continued. “There are many wonderful things in this book but you need to know a very important fact:

“Where much is given much is required.”

She waited to let that statement sink in then explained, “The part of the story you are missing about your great-grandfather is he worshiped Krunth with all his heart. He would leave your grandfather and great-grandmother at home for days to fulfill whatever calling he received from his god. Eventually, Krunth supposedly asked too much and your great-grandfather died. The vital part of this story is that your grandfather found his body. From what I understand, it wasn’t a pretty sight. From then on, your grandfather swore to everyone who would listen that the gods turned their backs on us. Your grandfather was a very convincing speaker and many people in this town believed him . . . including your father.

"Now I personally disagree. Your father and I came to an agreement long ago that we would simply refrain from discussing religion to keep the peace between us. You and Gerald were to decide on your own whether you would worship a god or not without influence from either of us.
I watched the hunger in your eyes all day. You want to know more about Krunth. No . . . it’s more than that isn’t it? You need to know more. You can’t sleep until you find out more. Am I right?”

Phillip nodded solemnly.

“Realize that there is no going back once you have learned. Once you know more, you will find yourself dedicated and with that dedication comes ridicule. Also, once you have felt the grace of a deity, much is expected of you to spread the grace to others. Ponder carefully what you are doing but always follow your heart. I trust you will make the right decision.”

She handed him the book and walked to her bedroom.
Phillip sat. He sat and thought about what he just learned. Religion really wasn’t discussed about the house. He couldn’t remember a single time he heard his father or mother discuss any god. He knew she was right about needing to read the book though. It called to every fiber in his being. He had to read it.

He took a deep breath then opened the book. He flipped to where he left off the night before and delved into the mysteries held within the book. Time slowed as he absorbed every word and idea. Concepts filled him and then enveloped him. It was as if he was alive for the first time. Or awake from a deep slumber. It was almost as if Krunth was stretching forth His hand and placing it on Phillip’s shoulder.

Philip spent every night following studying the precepts and teachings in the book. During the day he prayed to Krunth during his labors. Phillip was careful to never let his father notice him worshiping or dedicating his work to Krunth. In his heart only, Philip claimed Krunth as his god.
Phillip read about the powers Krunth granted but was slightly skeptical about that side of worship. Part of him still believed the powers of the gods were denied to those in the Depths. His father was right when he said the innocent suffered along with the guilty. Maybe, Phillip thought, the barriers keeping people in the Depths were blocking the gods’ influence also!

 

[SabrinaLove]

Fin: Meridian's Story

One day as he was plowing, the lizard Phillip was working with became spooked. Phillip walked around to the front of the plow and tried to calm the panicked beast to no avail. The beast refused to be calmed and bolted. Phillip had not detached himself from the plow completely and was yanked off his feet and dragged behind the fleeing lizard. The lizard left the field and veered into a rough area with stalactites and stalagmites were scattered everywhere. Phillip mercifully lost consciousness along the way when his head smashed into a rock. He did not feel the stalagmites biting into his flesh as his body was dragged and bounced across them.

Somewhere along the way, the plow’s tethers tangled amongst some closely gathered stalagmites. The plow and everything attached stopped suddenly. The lizard was snapped off its feet and halted in its mindless flight. After shaking off the sudden stop, the lizard flicked its tongue out and tasted the air. It could taste fresh blood nearby. In its crazed state, the lizard didn’t care where the smell was coming from; it wanted the blood.

The lizard crept towards Phillip’s inert body intent on feeding. It crawled up to Phillip and licked one of the deeper wounds. As it lunged to rend a mouthful of flesh from Phillip’s chest, its mouth was struck shut. A bright light flared in front of the lizard’s face. The lizard, used to dim or no light was hurt by the flare and ran away to find less painful prey. Phillip spent the night fading in and out of consciousness but miraculously stayed completely safe.

About mid-day, Phillip opened one eye. He realized he shouldn’t have when a wave of nausea overwhelmed him and bile spewed out of his mouth onto the rocks beside him. Again and again his stomach spasmed until his body was drained of every last bit of energy he possessed.

Then the pain swept over him and inundated his senses. He felt as if his whole body was on fire. He felt like his head would explode as he lay, sprawled in dust and vomit. He could feel the stickiness of his blood trickling on to the debris strewn around him from the wounds re-opened by his vomiting. The pain was so intense, Phillip felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness. He slowly rolled into a ball and cupped his head in his hands.

Something wasn't right. He felt his right ear. Most of his ear was torn off and dangling by the ear lobe. Phillip shuddered and almost passed out again from pain and shock. He fought his rebelling body for consciousness. Somehow, Phillip knew unconsciousness would bring permanent respite from the pain wreaking his body in the form of death’s hand.

Phillip realized his mortality in that instant. He knew that short of a miracle happening, he would not live. He searched his soul and found only his lessons about Krunth to cling to. With all his might, mind and soul he grabbed onto his belief of the god and begged for reprieve. He cried out with his very being for divine intervention.

A sense of calm washed over him. The serene feeling swept all the pain into a small corner of his mind and he felt a presence with him. The comfort of company filled his heart and Phillip felt tears forming in his eyes from the awesome warmth surrounding him.

One of the passages from Gerald’s book jumped to the front of his mind. The passage explained the process and theory behind divine healing. Phillip had merely skimmed the page because of his skepticism towards any divine powers. Now, the page stood out as though he had read it hundreds of times. Out of desperation, Phillip tried to concentrate and apply the principles. After attempting several times, Phillip suddenly felt a wound on his ribcage twinge oddly. He felt a broken rib pull back into his rib cage and settle into its proper place. Phillip touched his skin where the wound was and felt the skin pull together, mending itself.

A miracle he thought as he slowly, painfully half sat up. He applied the principles again and felt most of the wounds in his legs mending back to their original state. He was almost violently sick again as he watched the pieces of rock fall out of his thighs and calves but he was overjoyed at his recovery. He prayed and prayed until he was exhausted and mostly healed. There was one wound on his chest that somehow he knew would be a permanent scar. Phillip's body must have smashed directly into a stalagmite's point because the skin tore in a most peculiar way. It ripped outwards in eight different directions directly over his heart.

Philip, though exhausted, prayed for hours in thanks to Krunth. After he felt mostly recovered, he followed the debris created by the lizard’s frantic dash until he gained his bearings then traveled straight home. As he walked, he realized his mother was right. Things were going to change. It was inevitable.

He now knew that the barrier did not keep the gods out of the Depths. He had proven that their influence could reach even a humble mushroom farmer. No, it was not the magical barriers about the Depths that prevented the gods from assisting; it was the barriers people created around their own hearts. He had to spread the message that the gods would help if asked! No one could deny the miracle of his recovery or the divine intervention on his behalf. He simply could not keep his experience to himself.

He only hoped his father would understand.

 

[SabrinaLove]

Reading this again, I can see why it was turned down for not being original enough. Gosh! I'm getting all inspired to write again! I hope you all get as much of a rush as I do on this kind of thing!

-Sabrina