Guess who is back... Bwahaha, it's me, the ghost-stories-guy, opening the third season of the great blog Fifteen Journey, with a brand new story!
This one is a spin-off of another story I'm writing, that will show the adventures of some travelers around a fantastic world called Moluen. Every traveler has his own reasons guiding him, but I'll try to cross their paths now and then.
BTW, the events in this spin-off happen fourteen years before the beginning of the original story. I hope to link them both, too (not that anyone will notice it, since the original story is well hidden from everybody).
Enjoy this first chapter, that will describe the beginning of Bolgwën's story.
Bolgwën always did what he could to survive. Everyone did. Life wasn't that easy in the border between the civilized world and Shingath. You would come home after a day of hard work at the forest, to find everything destroyed by Sholigoths, strange human-like creatures from outside the civilized world, that frequently crossed the border to cause conflicts with humans.
Sholigoths were strange creatures indeed. They had almost a human-shaped body, but were much darker than any human could be. Not only that, but their skin was also different, full of wrinkles, even in the youngest ones. The greatest part of their bodies was also deformed, maybe because of their dangerous life, full of conflicts and wars, but mainly because of their nature. Of course there are lots of humans born with some deformations, but that seemed to be much more common with Sholigoths. Strange creatures indeed.
That day, Bolgwën was returning home, as usual, completely exhausted. He passed through the old sign of the village, and quickly got in. Something was different, but he couldn't notice it. Most houses were empty. There wasn't almost any people in the streets. He couldn't sense the presence of those blasted beasts that once again crossed the border to attack civilized humans.
He first understood something was wrong when he saw his house's door was wide open. It's true most of Boïria's villages (and others from other countries) are safe enough to let the door open, since everybody knows each other, and travelers are a rare sight outside big cities and villages near important roads. But safety is something border people can't ever reach, and no one would risk to leave his home unlocked to the dangerous monsters from the east.
Holding his breath, Bolgwën stepped inside. Everything was scattered on the floor, the whole room was a complete mess. Heart beating fast, he ran to the centre of the house. Every room was as bad as the first, and no living being was there at all. Suddenly, he remembered something.
Linahri!
She was missing! Immediately, Bolgwën scanned the house again, searching for any clue that might tell him where was his wife. They have married only three years ago, but have already lived a long life together, the best both have ever experienced. Now, she was missing.
Nothing. The whole thing was desert, and there were no signs of Linahri. Bolgwën ran to the street, again, as if the sight of the village's houses could tell him where was her.
Then, he saw someone running at him. Immediately, Bolgwën remembered the enormous axe he was carrying in his back, that used a while ago to chop down the nearest forest's trees, and drew it in a single movement, facing the new threat.
Whoever he was, he was surely in dire straits.
Linahri...
Labels: Moluen
