Pineapple 28 & FOTD
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, During NIEE
Challenges: FOTD (entelechy: A realization or actuality as opposed to a potentiality.), Pineapple 28 (damned if you do, damned if you don't),
Toppings & Extras: Sprinkles, Malt (Egg from Ichthus: Picture Prompt)
Word Count: 778
Rating: PG
Summary: Ren’s world falls apart.
Notes: So at first I thought this word was going to be the death of me, but the more I read it, the more I liked it far better than yesterday’s. Marina voted for this out of my choices.
Something woke Ren in the early morning light. He blinked groggily as he stretched and threw his legs over the side of his bed. His feet had just touched the chilled stone floor when again, something attracted his attention.
He frowned, cocking his head, even as he slowly slipped from his bed, staying as quiet as possible. Then the noise came again and this time he was ready for it.
It was the scream echoing up from the courtyard. Abandoning silence, Ren sped to the window, threw it open and thrust his head out.
Chaos had spread throughout the yard about four stories below where he now stood. Soldiers in the Highcastle livery were fighting wildly against a mismatched bunch of soldiers, although all seemed to have the same red shape on their chests.
For what seemed like forever, Ren stared dazedly down at the vicious fights, absently noting that the family’s men were slowly being pushed back and summarily slaughtered. Then he heard a noise coming from behind him and it snapped him out of his shock. Spinning, he raced for his bureau, scooping up his sword, which was leaning haphazardly and disrespectfully against the large wooden piece. He tossed the scabbard to the side, having the distinct feeling that, one way or another, he would not be needing it again in the foreseeable future.
Then he cautiously approached his door and pressed an ear to it. For the moment, at least, it sounded quiet and he held his sword up, very slowly turned the handle and pulled the door open. He peered around it and then advanced out on cat’s feet, straining his ears for any sound of the conflict.
His primary thought at that moment was to get to his parents’ rooms, where, at this hour of the morning, his father was sure to be. Secondary to that, but no less urgent, was the fact that his father had been right that night out on the ramparts. Whoever had been angling for the throne since Ren was barely born, if that, had finally made their move. For a moment, Ren closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They had made their move and were winning.
Not if I have anything to say about, Ren thought, shifting his grip on his sword. Getting a grip on his emotions again, he turned and sprinted towards his father’s rooms, which were on the other end of the same floor. Suspicions wormed their way into his stomach as he found no resistance or obvious bodies from either side on the way there. He knew he had heard action outside his door so what had happened?
He skidded around the last corner and came to a halt.
“You,” he hissed before the man standing a dozen feet down the hall had even fully registered in his mind.
Sorin Dakamar smiled crookedly, sword still in the scabbard on his belt. “Hello, Renier.”
“You’re the leadership Father was worried about.”
“That’s more my brother. You remember Vladimir, right?”
“How could you?”
Sorin shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.”
“How is it not personal?” Ren roared, his shock starting to fade. He jerked his arm to point out to side. “You’re slaughtering my men. You’re defiling this castle. You’re…” he trailed off, rage making it impossible to speak.
“I’m about to try and kill you too?” he supplied.
That brought Ren back to reality. “Father,” he whispered, lifting his sword and advancing on Sorin.
The other man’s hand drifted to his sword. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in there.”
“Sorin, you can’t do this,” Ren said, voice pleading to the point of being disgusted with himself. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“What I understand is that while you would do anything for your father, I would do anything for my siblings and Vlad wants this,” Sorin said, something flashing across his face that Ren did not understand and was not about to waste precious time trying to decipher.
“That’s the worst reason for…this isn’t…damnit, Sorin, this isn’t just a game. This is real life and real lives and a whole, gods save me, country!”
“I know,” Sorin said softly. “That’s why you can’t die.”
Ren saw Sorin’s eyes dart to the side and reacted, but he was a split second too late. As he spun to face the unknown threat behind him, something caught him across the back of the head. Instantly, black split across his vision and he knew he was going down.
The last thing he saw was apology spilling across Sorin Dakamar’s face.
But he knew he had to be imagining that.
He lost consciousness before he ever hit the ground.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy universe, During NIEE
Challenges: FOTD (entelechy: A realization or actuality as opposed to a potentiality.), Pineapple 28 (damned if you do, damned if you don't),
Toppings & Extras: Sprinkles, Malt (Egg from Ichthus: Picture Prompt)
Word Count: 778
Rating: PG
Summary: Ren’s world falls apart.
Notes: So at first I thought this word was going to be the death of me, but the more I read it, the more I liked it far better than yesterday’s. Marina voted for this out of my choices.
Something woke Ren in the early morning light. He blinked groggily as he stretched and threw his legs over the side of his bed. His feet had just touched the chilled stone floor when again, something attracted his attention.
He frowned, cocking his head, even as he slowly slipped from his bed, staying as quiet as possible. Then the noise came again and this time he was ready for it.
It was the scream echoing up from the courtyard. Abandoning silence, Ren sped to the window, threw it open and thrust his head out.
Chaos had spread throughout the yard about four stories below where he now stood. Soldiers in the Highcastle livery were fighting wildly against a mismatched bunch of soldiers, although all seemed to have the same red shape on their chests.
For what seemed like forever, Ren stared dazedly down at the vicious fights, absently noting that the family’s men were slowly being pushed back and summarily slaughtered. Then he heard a noise coming from behind him and it snapped him out of his shock. Spinning, he raced for his bureau, scooping up his sword, which was leaning haphazardly and disrespectfully against the large wooden piece. He tossed the scabbard to the side, having the distinct feeling that, one way or another, he would not be needing it again in the foreseeable future.
Then he cautiously approached his door and pressed an ear to it. For the moment, at least, it sounded quiet and he held his sword up, very slowly turned the handle and pulled the door open. He peered around it and then advanced out on cat’s feet, straining his ears for any sound of the conflict.
His primary thought at that moment was to get to his parents’ rooms, where, at this hour of the morning, his father was sure to be. Secondary to that, but no less urgent, was the fact that his father had been right that night out on the ramparts. Whoever had been angling for the throne since Ren was barely born, if that, had finally made their move. For a moment, Ren closed his eyes and took a deep breath. They had made their move and were winning.
Not if I have anything to say about, Ren thought, shifting his grip on his sword. Getting a grip on his emotions again, he turned and sprinted towards his father’s rooms, which were on the other end of the same floor. Suspicions wormed their way into his stomach as he found no resistance or obvious bodies from either side on the way there. He knew he had heard action outside his door so what had happened?
He skidded around the last corner and came to a halt.
“You,” he hissed before the man standing a dozen feet down the hall had even fully registered in his mind.
Sorin Dakamar smiled crookedly, sword still in the scabbard on his belt. “Hello, Renier.”
“You’re the leadership Father was worried about.”
“That’s more my brother. You remember Vladimir, right?”
“How could you?”
Sorin shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.”
“How is it not personal?” Ren roared, his shock starting to fade. He jerked his arm to point out to side. “You’re slaughtering my men. You’re defiling this castle. You’re…” he trailed off, rage making it impossible to speak.
“I’m about to try and kill you too?” he supplied.
That brought Ren back to reality. “Father,” he whispered, lifting his sword and advancing on Sorin.
The other man’s hand drifted to his sword. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in there.”
“Sorin, you can’t do this,” Ren said, voice pleading to the point of being disgusted with himself. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“What I understand is that while you would do anything for your father, I would do anything for my siblings and Vlad wants this,” Sorin said, something flashing across his face that Ren did not understand and was not about to waste precious time trying to decipher.
“That’s the worst reason for…this isn’t…damnit, Sorin, this isn’t just a game. This is real life and real lives and a whole, gods save me, country!”
“I know,” Sorin said softly. “That’s why you can’t die.”
Ren saw Sorin’s eyes dart to the side and reacted, but he was a split second too late. As he spun to face the unknown threat behind him, something caught him across the back of the head. Instantly, black split across his vision and he knew he was going down.
The last thing he saw was apology spilling across Sorin Dakamar’s face.
But he knew he had to be imagining that.
He lost consciousness before he ever hit the ground.