(Book Version) The Story of Palis

[Zerlina]

As some of you saw in my game thread, some person with no life decided to hack me and delete all my files. But I'm still going to tell this story...I'll just have to do it in writing form. If I don't, this person wins, and I'll never tell it. So please enjoy this written version (or book version). I really wish I could have made a game, and I was almost finished the first game...error testing actually. But it's in the past now and there's nothing I can do about it except think up a way to move forward. And this is what I came up with. The opening of the game is impossible to translate into book form without giving anything away, so i give it to you in script form, and will reply with the first chapter right after. If you read it please comment.

Thank you,
Zerl

[Zerlina]

Intro (In Script Form)

Words slowly appear onscreen

“Here begins the tale
of the greatest war our world has known
and of the heroes
who alone
removed from the cowardice of man
rose and fell
for glory’s hand”

-Xenid’s “The Epic”

We open to a darkness. Among the sounds of thunder and rain, a girl can be heard singing. Her voice is weak, it struggles. In some instances it sounds like she’s crying. We hear the Lithian lyrics:

Abasie tov imber
Palis glia fiflié
Abier nos ilia iam
Nos terra idayeym
Ete tov pferiem
Utotié dia-fluo iam

As she sings the last words, her voice quivers. It pauses. Before she can finish we hear something digging into the ground. For a painful amount of time there is silence and only the rain. Her song is gone.

We are left with darkness.




Chapter One

“Ishtara mother goddess, sweet wife of the heavenly father- save the souls of the innocent departed. Take them upon your shield to the kingdom of stars.”

The goddess’ face was shadowed by the flickering torchlight. Ishtara- her perfect marble features locked in solemnity- stared down at Penelopea. It was the Ides of Spring.

Malice stood in the doorway of their family shrine. Thunder clapped, rain fell, and yet, through it all, he could only listen to his mother’s words. They weren’t meant for the goddess. They were meant for him.

“Is it true?” he finally asked, stepping forward into the torchlight.

Penelopea didn’t answer.

“Sweet goddess, whose breath begat our very souls, watch over those who now journey in danger. Guide them to the light-”

“I can’t wait for you to finish your prayer!” Malice erupted

She was silent.

“…Is what the council told me true?” he asked, his voice breaking, though he tried to keep it clear.

Penelopea paused. Swallowing her tears and wiping her face clean of emotion, she rose and turned to face her son.

She could see him masking his fear, his guilt, his anger, and his sorrow. But she knew better than to let on; he was proud. All Aretés were.

“The council decided they were in no place to make a decision.” She began, speaking matter-of-factly “They left it to your father and he-”

“-he wanted this? Damn him!”

“Do not speak such disrespect at our shrine! What else could he have done?”

“He could have spared me.”

”He –did- spare you. The penalty for your crime is death.”

“You mean he had the opportunity to kill me and he didn’t? Surprising…”

 “...what do you think of your father?” Penelopea spat, ashamed “He loves you.”

“He loves you, mother. He doesn’t give a dog’s backside about me.”

“That isn’t true.”

”Then tell me why he wanted me left in the cliffs when I was born. Tell me why he gave me this name- this name which means “all that I hate?””

“You know the reason.” Penelopea’s words were cold, but etched in sadness. Indeed, Malice –did- know the reason. How could he not? From hours after his birth to the moment at hand, it had shaped his life.

“I love every tree, ever blade of grass, every grain of sand that lies on Theira. You know that. Everyone knows that. And yet you still expect me to live by the musings and predictions of the priests?
Maybe they’ve consulted their books and their stars, and told you things about me. But I’m telling you something different. Who are you going to believe- the prophets, or your son?”

Penelopea was silent, lost for an answer. Finally, she raised her chin and spoke in clear words:

“I trust in the words of the immortals.”

Malice turned away from her in that moment. From her, and the statue of the goddess.

“I will go then, as he wishes. And I will deliver the letter as he has asked, but I do not wish so much for his favour as to fulfill his other demand.
Vertus is my cousin.
My best friend.
I will not kill him. Not even Una would have wanted me to.”

Without looking back, Malice left.

*

He walked through the cold stone hallways- all that he had known for his nineteen years.

Shadows danced along the walls- shadows of laughter, shadows of memories, shadows of joy and disappointment. They flickered in the torchlight, wavering one moment, growing the next. There was a clap of thunder, and as lightning struck and shone through the glassless windows, they disappeared forever.

Pain shot through Malice’s head, and he brought up his hand to catch himself before he fell. Leaning against a cold-stone pillar, he clenched his eyes tight, trying to chase away the images of blood. Trying to forget that his cousin was in pieces.

“From this child will a beast spring forth into the world
And devour a mighty kingdom”

The prophets’ words rang in his ears

“His life is the ruin of the South
And the ruin of Theira

Because of him many will die”

*

Malice made his way down the long stone steps of his family’s estate.

His father was waiting at the docks.

Minutes before, Malice could have thought of a million hateful things to say, but, his father’s presence silenced them all.

Peleus’ eyes were fixed upon the crimson-stained stones. He was silent in his grieving, not even shedding a tear for his niece.

“I’ve come to say goodbye to a beloved child.” he said, as if answering Malice’s unspoken question.

“Father-”

“This is the place where Una was slain, is it not?” Peleus continued, stabbing at his son’s heart “Slain because of you.”

Peleus knelt down, bringing the tips of his fingers to the blood-stained ground.

“Una…Vertus…” he muttered “I’m sorry your life has been sealed by a fool.”

“Must you call me that?” Malice’s eyes dropped.

“I was talking about myself.” Peleus said, rising to his feet “I was the one who let you live- after all the protestations of the priests. And for what? So you could grow up to be this- a selfish, irresponsible, skirt-chasing wretch, who let his cousin die for nothing but a kiss. You’re a stain on this proud family, and I wish it was your blood upon these stones instead of hers.”

“I-”

“Say no more. Just go. And cause me no more heartache.”

Malice stared at his father for a moment longer. He wanted him to say something more. But nothing came.

Only the sound of the rain.

[Uberpwn_w00t]

Yay! Story of Palis = win.

[Moosetroop11]

Awesome.

[Rahl]

Sounds great.