Excerpt Sunday

Well, Chapter Two is still in the oven (if you guys ever read that post...) so I will post some of my other work on here. Much shorter so you won't be spending hours on my blog.  This one is old, so there may be some mistakes nor quite up to par with my other works. 

The White Tower was a mystery. Nobody knew where it was from or what treasure (or horrors) lay within. But those who lived by the White Tower knew better than go inside, for those who went inside were never seen again, though their screams filled the air   in the nights. So when this boy rode into town, they did not see anything special about him, and he liked to keep it that way.  Nobody looked at him, not wanting to have the least bit of connection with the newest condemned boy. But if they had they would have seen a boy around nineteen years of age with green eyes and white hair. They would have seen the look in his eyes, they would have known the tower and he had a connection.

                He passed through the gate and the townsfolk breathed and went to their small church to pray for his soul.

The boy was met inside with a pathway cut through a tall hedge. "A maze" he muttered. "Always interested in fairytales weren't you?"  He left his horse and went inside.  The paths twisted and turned with no end in sight. He even tried to cut through the walls only to have the bush grow back even thicker. Further and further he went, passing dead bodies of pass attempts and even living ones who had gone mad in the maze.  "Enough of this." he growled. "There is no way out except for the entrance isn't there? Nice try with the riddle. Now let's see if you can stop birds from coming to your tower." His body rippled and feathers appeared; he had turned into a hawk. He spread his wings and up he went, unperturbed.

Until he hit the river of filth.

It wasn’t a literal river of filth but a mock village.  The boy’s bird shape fell into the darkness and landed with sickening thud. He shape shifted back into his boy form and screamed in agony from his broken arm. He wiped blood away from his mouth and saw a group of shadowy figures swarm around him. He could feel what each was.  He breathed deeply and they closed in around him. He screamed as he felt pure hate, lust, jealousy and a host of other sins fall upon his heart. They each in their turn tempted him to break his resolve, to give up; they even promised his heart’s desire.  That was their mistake, for they could never give him his heart’s desire. The spirits felt their power slip away and they screamed their dismay. But they let him limp through further towards the tower.

                The tower doors were open as if in welcome and for a moment the traveler thought the trails were over. He walked in glad to have finally reached the end. A noise made turn around to find… himself, hideously contorted as if every misdeed he had done had surfaced,  which it seemed was the point. “Traitor…”  It hissed. “Thou art a coward and a traitor!”

“Get away!” the boy warned, fear was in his voice. “You’re just another test, an illusion!”

“Oh really?”   And with that the doppelganger pulled out its sword and swung it at him, leaving a line of scarlet on his chest.   He bit back the pain and pulled out his sword and parried as the next blow fell. “Admit who you are. You art the Demon child! Born to take this kingdom or leave it ashes. You feel it in your heart, the shadows tugging at you. You will fall into darkness eventually. You are better off dead. Even she thinks so.”

“No you lie!” The boy screamed and attacked with a berserker’s strength. A blow landed on its arm and the boy felt the blow on his arm.  He fell onto his knees, his head held up by his hair by his other self.

“I am you, your greatest weakness.”  It explained smugly. “Let me cut your throat and put an end to this.”  The boy shook his head; the shadow man scowled and punched him in the mouth. Blood formed in the Traveler’s mouth.  “I will never let you kill me.” He spat. “I may be the demon child but I will never do what my father wishes me to do.  Fate may lead me down a road of destruction but I choose my own fate. Now BEGONE!”  The power in his voice made the room quiver and dust fell like rain.  The doppelganger disappeared.

“I was right, you were a test.” The boy said holding his palm up to reveal a tattoo; the symbol of the Demon child. He limped over and up the stairs. His climb was undisturbed but he felt his strength slip away. He looked down at his shirt to see where the first blow had landed and saw the cut was deeper than what he thought. He was losing blood and his life with it. “If this keeps up, the people won’t have to worry about me destroying their kingdom.” He remarked and trudged upward, moving on pure adrenaline and perseverance.  He blacked out twice before he reached the top.  The top was a giant room   full of familiar objects, a mirror showed his progress through the tests, a table where paper lay poems and drawings sketched upon them. But no sign of his quarry. “Zion, where are you?” He called out, his voice choked in tears. “Zion!” He searched around the room screaming her name, crying out, ignore the pain of his injures till his body betrayed him and he collapsed in the middle of the room.  “I’m so sorry Zion…. For what I did, for hiding when you all could have used my help. I abandoned the resistance when I learned of your prophecy, about who I was. For leaving you Zion, princess, seer….”  He tried to say more but the voice caught in his throat and darkness filled his mind.

He woke to the sound of singing and something wet on his forehead. He made a confused noise and a familiar voice hushed him. 

“Zion?” he whispered.

“Yes it’s me,” she replied. “You were unconscious for two days with a fever.  I was wondering when my little Tower would draw you out of your hole of angst and sorrow.” The last part was said with a playful tone and the boy cracked a smile but then it was replaced with concern. “So you designed this Tower to find Me.” he asked, "and let a bunch of men die?”

“You didn’t recognize them? They were generals inside of the King’s secret circle, the ones who summoned your father, gave your mother, the Queen to him, kept you prisoner, and tortured you and all of the resistance who fell into their clutches. “

“So this had dual purposes?”

“Indeed and if you were paying attention you would have seen that some of the villagers are resistance soldiers hiding in the shadow of my ‘great and terrible’ tower.”

The boy smiled again. And Zion continued to speak. “I’m sorry for all the tests but had to make sure you hadn’t turned, that you hadn’t fulfilled that part of the prophecy.”

“What if I had? Wait, there’s another part of the prophecy?”

“If you had turned I would have killed you myself and yes there is. It simply states that if you do not turn and overthrow the King you will usher in a new age of peace and all that good things that come with.” She looked away for a moment and added. “If I remember correctly, children of mixed parentage like yours always signaled a time of darkness or of light, depending on the state of the land at the time.”

“Oh.”

“So did you just come up here to ask for forgiveness from me or are you back to fight again?”

“Of course I’m back for the resistance! Especially after what you just said!” he exclaimed then added. “You said once you knew my real name but you would only tell me when you thought I was ready. Am I?”

“Yes…It’s Moses.”