A Conciliatory Fall

Prolouge

     The city of Wraeclast remained eerily silent, the chill of the enshrouding night sending a shiver up Joseph’s spine as he walked the winding staircase of the Watchtower, even through the warmth of his  cloak. His face, even in the darkness, was handsome in a simple way. His smooth features, blemished by freckles, light specks of ash, and dirt gave him a almost ruggish quality along with his blond haired turned brown by the soot. In his hands he carried a thick leather mask, filled in the front with scented herbs that left a lavender tint in the cool fall air every time it swung. On him he carried a simple hatchet and a small matchlock hidden in the shrouds of his wool cloak. In his right hand he carried a lantern, which upon reaching the top of the tower illuminated Raden, along with a gleaming bronze bell. Raden’s head rested against the wood pike, the shaft clamped tightly in both hands, snoring loudly. The snoring was so loud that Joseph wouldn’t be surprised if the entire city below was cursing their names. The sound fit his figure, short, round, and plump as a spring pig off to slaughter. They had been friends for years, but Raden had always needed protection since he was little. Despite his round figure and squashed, pig like nose, the boy had grown up poor with Joseph. Street urchins were the best way to describe it, begging for scraps and scuffling with the local boys, with joe doing most of the fighting. That was until the church found them.

With a smirk Joseph kicked the base of the polearm, nearly toppling the sleeping man over who let out a cry of surprise. Before he could fall to the hardwood floor of the watchtower, Raden stumbled and regained his balance, catching himself on the stone battlement. He hissed out a curse, standing back up to rest on the pike grumbling out, “Not funny Joe, — that wasn’t funny.”

Joseph laughed, saying with devilish grin, “You kidding? That was hilarious. Ten fold when your job is supposed to be night watchman.”

Raden grunted, and with a sigh of frustration stood to look out over the city, muttering, “I thought momas naggin was bad, but at least she didn’t hav’ yur voice.”

Joseph laughed, but didn’t respond, and they stood in silence for several minutes. Joseph spent ten minutes painstakingly helping Raden to understand what Tenfold meant; with a calm and controlled patience, and continued scanning the darkened streets below as he did this. Only the light of fires shown through the night, as brief as they were ferocious.

Raden’s eyes suddenly snapped from their tired glaze, tapping Joseph’s shoulder in an excited manner, stammering, “Look at the way the light from the fires illuminates the houses! They all have cresent roofs, so it looks sorta like a ton of moons!”

Joseph looked at him, scoffing and responding with, “Wow, doing your job for once and you find out it’s fun. Of course it looks like moons, why do you think the city is called ‘Land of a Thousand Splendid Moons?”

Raden’s excitement died down, looking down in embarrassment. “To be fair Joe, they call it Wraeclast now.”

Joseph raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, saying, “Yeah, three years ago. Land of the damned, the church titled it. I wonder why they would give it such a befitting name?”

“No need to be mean, I know wha’ happened, I ain’t a complete idiot,” Raden said, cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shifting his weight from foot to foot, which Joseph knew was a sign he was upset.

Joseph let out a long sigh and rested his hand on his friend’s back, saying in a soft tone, “I know you’re not. I’m merely jesting with you here. Remember we’re a team. Best buddies, right? Sometimes teammates need to beat each other up a bit to stay on there toes! Friends can break each other’s balls without meaning harm, am I right?”

Raden nodded, eyes still downcast, “I suppose you right.”

“Of course I’m right!” he exclaimed, slapping Raden’s back with a hardy laugh. He continued by saying, “Now cheer up, you make the same face a starved puppy makes when you’re upset, and it’s killing my mood.” In the same act of speaking these words, he pulled off his leather gloves. He proceeded by scooping a chunk of a thick mossy substance and shoving it into a wooden pipe. He lit it by striking the steel of his axe with flint, creating a spark large enough to light the smokeroot. Joseph took a long puff, offering a pipe to Raden who shook his head and stared back over to the city.

Raden nodded his head at a new light, a new streak of grand and voracious fire passing overhead, its aim set upon the enshrouded city. “Another one falling.”

Joseph looked over, coughing out a thin layer of smoke as his eyes lazily tracked the streak of light. “Well will you look at that. That makes what, is it seven now?”

Raden nodded, enamored by the the white light. In a meek and distracted voice he whispered, “Should I ring da bell?”

 Joseph rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to fiddling with the pipe and the smoke it produced. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone would be real enamored with another corpse. It just got here, it’ll still be there once we ring the bell.”

Raden shook his head rapidly, eyes widening, his face shaking with a nervous twitch to make it look like the thoughts within in his head were trying to escape. These words remained trapped for several moments like rabbits clawing at the only exit, gasping for breath and escape from their confining burrow, but in a cruel irony depriving themselves of air. Like the bodies of rabbits trapping themselves, so did Raden’s words, clambering for escape through his small, pudgy lips. In the desperation to escape, only the pieces of what his original thought contained escaped the suffocation, with a meek but powerful impact that hung in the air like a slap to the face, Raden breathed out, “Joe, I think it moving.”

Joseph looked up slowly, his brow knitting as he processed these words. Suddenly, his face tightened into a dark look of confused horror. He snapped around to track the falling figure, his eyes bulging from their sockets as he studied the form. The rest hadn’t even looked Fae, tendrils of destroyed flesh and limbs falling in a loose and unorganized manner, from this distance like the outline of the branches of a tree in the dead of winter. This one, unlike the others, couldn’t hold any more of an entirely purposeful form. It’s body curled around itself; unrecognizable inhuman appendages creating a shield against the flames birthed from its descent. The black outline of the form made no movement, indicating conscious or even life, but the way it fell, the sign of desperate self preservation set Joeseph into a state of panic.

“Joe, do you see it? Is dat bad? What should we…,” the words rested on his tongue as  Raden finally broke his gaze to look at Joseph with child like wonder and fear in his eyes, and received his answer. Joseph had flung his hat, the rough leather wrinkled and crumpled on the ground. In a rushed manner, he pulled back the gambeson hood that tightly wrapped around his face and stretched down to his collarbone, covering his neck and head. He swore in frustration as in his rushed manner caused him to struggle, the fabric caught in a tight angle on his head. Finally, throwing it off he brought up the heavy leather mask, shaped in the manner of a bird’s beak, set the straps around his head, and tightened them so that the mask sat firmly covering his face. He coughed, the intense herbal aroma meant to protect him from sickness nearly causing him to vomit. The sweet, pungent aroma left his nostrils burning as he ran for the stairs of the tower, a long run in store for him.

Raden called after the panicked Joseph, who was attempting to wrap the hood around the thick leather mask, the sealed glass poetical that rested in the eye sockets of the mask making it all the more difficult to see the stairs, even with the illumination of the lantern on his belt. “Joseph,” the sound muffled finally heard Raden the second time, barely catching the, “Should I ring da bell?”

Joe ran back up the stairs pointing at Raden before saying, “No! The Arch designer will want a chance to get there first. If the mobs get there first…” He let out a frustrated scream, before grunting, “Just wait till the moon raises another distance of its length! Got it?” Joseph didn’t wait for an answer and began sprinting down the spiral staircase, hoping that the cobblestone streets would be clear enough to make it to the cathedral.

Raden frowned, saying with a soft sigh, “I like ringing the bell though…” He looked back up, becoming entranced by the streak that was growing ever closer. The light had a strange beauty to it, releasing a heavy glow that illuminated the darkened city wherever it passed over. The streak disappeared behind a tall house, escaping from Raden’s view, which left him disappointed. He groaned, leaning against his pike. He avoided pondering on the deep seeded worry that was festering in his belly. Joseph always seemed to know everything, and treated Raden like he shouldn’t know because it might hurt him. It upset Raden not to be trusted, but in way he felt almost better for not having to worry. Joe had gotten them so far by knowing and understanding stuff that made Raden’s head hurt. Raden was happy they had food, a job and a purpose, but Joe never seemed to be happy in the comfort. He was always so stressed, so anxious about the next step and the knowledge he understood. Raden had decided that if understanding stuff made people sad, he didn’t want to understand, which wasn’t hard for him as Joe liked to point out.

So instead of trying to understand why Joe was so upset, instead Raden contemplated the way Joe’s voice changed when he put on the mask. The thick leather masks muffled his voice, turning Joe’s charming and soft voice into a deep, sharp whisper. It was actually somewhat scary, how much it reminded Raden of a eerie fall breeze, unsettling him so much that chills creep up his spine. Raden thought more on this, and as he went over to the bell several minutes later, he concluded that the devil would have that same voice. Soft, disturbing and charismatically drawing you in for a final deal…

Authors note

Thank you so much for taking the time to read the first chapter of this book. I know it’s nothing special, and with your help I’m planning on releasing these chapters on a weekly basis. I currently have the narrative and general story written out, a world and setting I’ve been reimagining since I was eight.  For you to take the time to read my story, I feel as though I owe you something, and with only an overall plot there is a lot of room for change and additional side characters, and I would like you to make this your story. Down at the Cafeteria I will be setting up a station of some kind for you to submit your own designs and writeup for characters you’d like to see in my universe.  I will try to restrict your creativity as little as possible, as you may submit anything that your heart desires, but what you must realize is that I will take these characters, combine them with others and put them into the story as I feel they fit best. One side note I will make is that humans are not very prevalent, and an almost extinct race, so if you are to write a standard human character, keep this in mind. You may direct message me through my facebook or my instagram name of Ben Jamaica with any questions about specific races or backstory to help you set up a character.
I’m excited to see what you will think up, and hope to fit as many of your characters in as possible, and again, thank you for taking your time to read the Prologue to “A Conciliatory Fall”.