Story Time

So, a few weeks ago a friend asked me to tell them a bedtime story. I was in the mood to be creative, so I went along with their request. What came out of it, was a good solid little tale that has potential to grow in to a well rounded Story.

I’d like some feedback on it, to help me get to the next stage so I’m going to post what I’ve got so far here.

The Myth

As the compass spins around, guiding the lost and the found, there are those that accept both if you’re looking for them. Guardians placed in throne to protect the wary, the over burdened. Who placed them there, time has forgotten, but when Man began to become more than just dirt pickers; the Guardians decided it was time that they began to take care of the planet that they share. So Man became the Followers and in doing so, began the first steps in guardianship of the lands they called home. Many years followed and Man flourished under the care and guidance of The Eight, growing in all areas of life upon Earth. Art and Science flourished, particularly in the temples of The Eight and The One.

So life flowed, one generation to another, until decent started to form and grow. Year after year, there were some humans that started to feel resentful that The Eight lived in their Sanctuaries of splendor and luxury. They stopped worshiping The Eight slowly, until a man named Hort came to the tiny village of Gya, on the plains of Gyr and killed a child in sacrifice to The Eight. Horrified, the Guardians sent a messenger to the town with a proclamation. In the scroll clutched in the fist of a man named Tal were the words of anger, denouncement and mistrust in the humans and what they had done. Tal never got a chance to read it to the towns people of Gya. He was slain by Hort’s followers on the road to Gya. Taking Tal’s clothing, the false messenger rode in to the town and read the words or Hort, and not their Guardians.

Upon hearing the pleasure at the sacrifice of the child, the towns people became angry and hungered for vengeance. “To the Sanctuary,” they cried. “Let the Guardians know how they’ve betrayed us!” In their hunger, Hort was there with a smile on his face. He hated The Eight with a passion that now the towns people of Gya felt. The sorrow of the Guardians was felt across the land at what happened next.

To the temples went the towns people, burning and tearing down what was once considered the most holy of places. The salon of Hargian the Wise was first, her hand maidens raped and murdered, the Guardian herself slain when her head was removed from her body. Her husband, Bragor killed in her defense. Next came the ponds and pools of Arion and his wife Arissa. The holy water taken and used to drown both. Their Followers were so distraught at the sight if their dead masters, that they killed themselves upon the blades of the townsfolk when they fought back. This was as far as the people of Gya got in the sanctuary. Angered by the loss, the remaining Guardians attacked, pushing the townsfolk out of their home and banning them forever.

Angered by the supposed arrogance of the Guardians, the townsfolk retreated to the taverns and homes of Gya to plan for war. The Guardians, once eight and now six, planned as well. Splitting the power they were given so long ago, The Guardians left the plains of Gyr and the town of Gya. Abandoning their home to protect themselves, or so the town of Gya thought. Unknowing, the Guardians Nor and Tyr stayed behind to guard the people who had forsaken them. Even though they’d suffered unimaginable loss, The Guardians still felt that it was their duty to protect and serve. However, not everyone was deceived.

Hort, who had made a deal with the one that is older than the Guardians, knew that the two remained and watched. Angered, he gathered an army of mercenaries to attack the sanctuary one more time. For a fortnight, the army of Hort laid siege to the temples, until one last room remained. The forest room of Nor and his wife, Tyr. The Watchers battled hard, Tyr swinging her mighty mace and Nor with his sword. At their sides, were the remaining Followers. The ones so devoted, they could not leave. Even as the forest they built burned around them, The Guardians and their Followers fought on.

This was the way until a chance hit from an ax, felled the furious Tyr. In his grief at seeing his beloved fall, Nor went insane with rage killing all that stood in his path to get to her. Seeing this happen, Hort called for a truce. Telling the Guardian that he at last understood what loss was, for he had lost his family to the Followers of the Forgotten One. Hort pulled his army back, leaving Nor and his followers to their grief.

A tomb was built for Tyr, along side the other Guardians that had already fallen. Inside with her body was placed her great mace, Ja’r. Upon her coffin lid was placed a warning, that whomever held the spirit of Tyr, should be able to hold and wield the mace. The message read like this:

Under stone of purest glass,

Truest heart shall it break for at last.

But beware traps made to guard,

Ice and Snow used in great regard.

Within the resting place of Tyr,

Shall hold what most should fear.

No man’s hand was to pick it up in her stead, for the mace would only answer to the one who was true enough to get past the Followers and the chambers traps. Ice and Snow, enemies to the Forest Lord and his Queen, would take the place of watching over her tomb in the form of golums. They would watch, and wait, for the one who could forgive what had happened here and pick up the mace to become the next Lady of the Forest.

As for Nor himself, he wandered alone for many years, using his grief to give him reason so stay away from the humans he so loved. In the mountains of Gif, far away from the plains of Gyr, he made a home for himself, carefully tending the forest lands he took to watch over. To this day, no one’s seen the Guardian or the rest of his family. Just a whisper of a mountain man who loved the forest he made home.

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