As one (or two, or maybe even three) of you know, I've written something....melancholy. Now, I got the glorious idea to submit it to the literary magazine of the school so I just want you to comment on it. This is WAAAY out of my regular style (a sarcastic, awkward form of comedy) so it's kind of odd for me to be publishing this already. BUT I NEED THE HELP so HELP ALREADY!
So here we go.
So here we go.
-To Each His Own-
I. Blind Justice
My hand quivered as I held the quill above the military contract. Asch, it’s the only thing you can do, I told myself. You’re skilled with a sword. You’re going to be a hero. You. Must. Do. This. The quill pressed down against the parchment as I signed: Asch Matin. As the general folded up the paper, I knew that my soul was already gone.
I saw the carriage off and stepped back into my house. “Ma,” I yelled through the house, “I’ll be gone tomorrow.” The empty house didn’t answer; Ma wasn’t home. Ma was never home. She’d been killed by the invading forces about a month ago, stabbed by three knights at once. To think that they’d even been called ‘knights’. The Ristaccian army had been under my family’s control for a while, as the Matin family had been one of nobles. However, the Revolution came and…well, that was the end of that. We had to leave the country, to Ristaccia.
“Stay here, Asch, and don’t move.”
“Mama, what’s gunna happen to me?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be safe.” She drew her sword.
“Mama, I’m scared.”
She left the room.
Father had been killed as well, leaving me to my own means as the breadwinner for myself, a fickle excuse for a family. I entered the empty house and sat in a chair that my family’s woodsmen had constructed when we were still nobles. It was the only memento of my father that I had left. I don’t feel sad about this, though; whenever I sit in, touch, or even pass the chair, I feel his spirit calling out to me.
“Asch…oh, hunny, Asch…”
“What is it, mama?”
“Father…oh, father…”
“What about Father, mama?”
“He’s…he’s dead, Asch.”
She left the room.
I heard a knock on the door. “Enter,” I said to whomever it was. A voice answered my command instead of the normal figure. “Guess who~,” she chimed. I perked up, hearing the voice of my childhood friend, Summer Nox. “Ah, Summer,” I said, like nothing had happened. “It’s been a while.” I got up and opened the door for her. Her blond hair trailed behind her as she tackle-hugged me by surprise, the tassels of her hat touching my face as I toppled to the ground. “Yeah, since yesterday,” Summer chuckled. She tugged at my braid. “What’s this, now?” she asked me. “Loyalty?” I paused, remembering how the only real reason anyone would braid their hair was to show their recruitment to the Tierian forces. I stuttered out a “Y-yeah” and brushed her off, tucking my braid back into my shirt.
“Asch, I don’t want you fraternizing with that Summer girl any longer.”
“But why, mama, she’s nice to me!”
“She’s a commoner, a peasant, and we’re above them.”
“But mama, she plays with me!”
She sighed and left the room.
“I have something for you~” she chimed, getting off me and standing me up. “Now close your eyes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out something that looked like a ribbon. She turned me around and pulled out my braid. “What’s this?” I asked her. “You’ll see,” she told me, fiddling with the ends of my hair. “Almost…done…tah-dah!” she proclaimed. I opened my eyes and took my braid in my hand, to see a white satin ribbon tied around the end of my hair. “Summer, I—I can’t wear this!” I said to her, only half touched. She cocked her head. “But-but why not?” she asked. “I just won’t look like a man, I suppose,” I said, turning my back to her. I sighed. “But it’s my gift to you, at least wear it when…when…” Her eyes started to tear up. That’s when I noticed: Summer’s family was killed as well.
“Mama, Summer’s father died!”
“Don’t cry, Asch, he died in dignity.”
“But—but it’s Summer’s father!”
“He died for his country—our country.”
She left the room.
“I—I’ll take it back. Asch…you just mean so much to me, I don’t want you to leave me. I want to be there if you die…” she said to me. I sighed, remembering how Summer could like something that killed her family. “Fine,” I said to her. “I’ll wear it, only if it makes you feel better.” I went up to her and hugged her. “I promise you, I swear to you, I will NOT die.” She started to cry a bit. “Thank—thank you,” she said, embracing me once again. She left the house, but stopped in the doorway. “Be safe,” she half said/half whispered to me. She continued walking.
Time passed, and in about a week I was shipped off to the barracks. The barracks weren’t as comfortable as my home, and I missed Summer’s frequent visits, her fanciful speeches, her glistening golden hair, her tackle hugs, her entire presence. And most of all, I missed her prayer. I could still hear her voice saying it.
“Mama, Summer has her own prayer!”
“Really now? That’s great!”
“Yeah! Yeah! Her mother is Ionilian!”
“Oh…! Really now… That’s…great…!”
She left the room.
More time passed, and after our training we were sent off to Durex, where the Ristaccian forces were said to attack next. I took my braid in my hand and pressed Summer’s ribbon to my lips. “Tore my heart, my friend, that's you wanted to? No can make my faith illusion, can you stay with me? Or just go away…You see my tears, it's a doomed reunion...” I recited, trying to remember Summer’s prayer. We continued on to Durex, drawing up military plans, but all I could think about was Summer, Summer, Summer.
Durex came, but the Ristaccian army wasn’t there as we had expected. General told one of us to go out as bait…I decided that Summer would’ve wanted me to become a hero, just as I had. I could become one…if only I had the risk. I stood up, unsheathed my sword, and ran across the battlefield. That’s when I saw the first arrow shot. The Ristaccian forces were here.
Our army emerged from hiding onto the battlefield, but it was too late for me. The first arrow…well, I had been shot. I blacked out.
“Mama, someday when I grow up, I wanna be a hero!”
“You will get to be if you want to, Asch.”
“Mama, you’re the coolest!”
“No, you are, my little hero!”
She left the room.
II. Ristaccia
I awoke in shackles in a Ristaccian dungeon, stuck in this place. A prisoner of war. How long had I been out for…? It was dark. The only light came from a window above. I looked out; it had turned to winter. Perhaps I had died, then come back…? No. That could never have happened. And yet…
I reached back for my braid, which had been stained with blood. Summer’s ribbon had now turned red, as had my hair. Stained with my blood, stained as much as the stained glass windows in the Ionilian cathedrals back in Tieria. How I miss Tieria. How I miss home. How I miss Summer…
“Surprise, Asch!”
“Summer?!? But…what’s this?”
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it? I got you a present.”
“It’s…it’s great, thanks!”
She laughed as if nothing was wrong in the world.
I turned to see a plate of bread and water at the edge of my cell. I quickly drank up, seeing as how the water would freeze if I left it too long. I ate the bread piece by piece, savouring it as if it would be the last on Brinknorre…
What was I to do here? There’s nothing. Just a window. Nothing else. There’s no water. My pockets were looted. I had nothing. I couldn’t escape. I only had the walls to keep me company. I laid in the corner of the cell and fell asleep.
“Asch! Wait up!”
I turned. “Summer? Why are you here?”
“No reason. I just followed you.”
“What did you want to tell me?”
“Nothing, really…I just wanted you to notice.”
“Notice?”
“Yes, notice. I wanted you to notice the sun shining, the birds singing, the ground fertile and moist from the rains, the green of the trees, the n** of cold in the air, the melting snow…ah, these days make me feel…amazing.”
She laughed as if nothing was wrong in the world.
I had dreams for the first time in a while that night.
It unsheathed its sword. The jewel in its blade started to gleam in the moonlight, in the presence of the king and queen. It started to dance without music, dance to its footsteps, dance to the light that was refracting off of the queen’s crown and its bloodstained sword, stained with Summer’s blood. It danced, avoiding Summer’s corpse while still keeping the nonexistent beat, and then collapsed.
The floor opened up and it fell through, as did Summer’s corpse. It dropped its sword, and three others, identical except for the type of jewel, speared Summer’s body as it landed on the hard ground. They each melded into shadow, as hands appeared from above and gave it jewels, cursed jewels, diamonds and rubies and sapphires, all stained with blood…it accepted them all, and a throne erupted from the ground, stained with Summer’s unending stream of blood. It sat upon it, raising her sword to the sky, and as a dark spark erupted from the point, Summer awoke and stood up, her dress and golden hair blowing in the wind. She turned just in time to see an unholy javelin piercing her head.
Summer fell backwards, into a tomb of swords. She was stabbed by each as she went down…each through the heart…
“Asch, you’re my best friend~!”
“R-really?”
“Yeah! Even though you’re not royalty anymore, you’re still special to me.”
“A-are you sure?”
“Yeah! Who cares about petty things like bloodlines? You’re still the same Asch Matin to me, you always will be!”
She laughed like nothing was wrong in the world.
Time passed. Every day the same. Bread. Water. Cold. It seemed as the spring would never come, let alone the Summer. What seemed like a year passed. Same thing. Every day. The pressure was too much. And the dreams…oh, the horrible dreams! Still her, still Summer, still the demonic king and queen and the swords…and…and…
“NO! I can’t TAKE it anymore!” I yelled, thrashing about the room. “MAKE THEM STOP! MAKE THEM STOP! DEAR GOD, PLEASE DO ANYTHING TO MAKE THEM STOP!” I continued to thrash about the cell. “I RENOUNCE MY CITIZENSHIP TO TIERIA! JUST MAKE THEM STOP!” I fell over on my back, knees up to my chin and hands over my ears. “NOOOOO! STOP, PLEASE, STOP! STOP IT ALL, JUST…NOOOOO!” I stood up, both hands grasping my braid. I tugged at it as hard as I could, tearing my branded symbol of the Tierian army off. “STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!!” I fell over, hitting my head against the rock walls, not noticing the blood that was leaking from my forehead.
Death came quickly and sweetly.
Summer’s bloodstained ribbon untied and frayed the braid before anyone could find out that Asch Matin, the little noble who could, had perished. Alone, and in the dark of Ristaccia.
It was cold…
III. Turill Penta Rhei
Summer knocked on Asch’s door, knowing that the house will still be empty. Time has passed since Asch left for good, and Summer didn’t know what had happened. Did he die a noble death, leaving Summer behind in this life? Did he live in glory in another place, leaving Summer behind? Did he achieve his dream of becoming a hero, leaving Summer behind? No…that wasn’t like Asch. Asch would’ve come back for her.
The army carriage came back along at this time of year. Summer knew. It had been one year. One year since the ribbon entered Asch’s possession, a year since Asch’s first battle. Summer stayed at Asch’s door as the carriage containing recruits passed by. Now was the time.
Summer followed the carriage, picking up her dress to run to the coach. “Excuse me,” she said, still running. The carriage stopped. An old man stepped out. “Yes, young miss?” Summer paused. “Are…are you the one who came around these parts last year?” The old man though for a minute, and remembered. “Yes…there was one recruit. What was his name now…Asch, was it?” Summer came closer to the man. “Do…do you know what became of him?”
The old man shook his head. “Aye, Asch…he was a fine young one. Had a life to live ahead of him too. He was captured by those bastards from Ristaccia, and forced to live for a while, could’ve been almost a year, in a dungeon, it was said. He seemed to have gone crazy…you know what they say, swans sing before they die. ‘Is head was bashed in, all bloody like , holding onto a ripped and frayed braid. The ribbon had fallen off.” Summer panicked with wide eyes. “But that’s the kind of thing you hear in bars, madam,” the old man finished. “I better be going now.”
The carriage moved on.
Summer pitched her back against the wall and started to sob, a ring falling from her hands to the ground. Was it worth it for the glory? Declining your life for that? All of the deluded, arrogant people…directed to Asch. Driving him into silence. Anger. Silence. Madness. Death.
Summer stumbled into the house that Asch used to live in. Everything still had his essence. The chair now felt of the latest Matin war hero: Asch. Summer passed the chair and headed for Asch’s spare sword. She unsheathed it and looked at herself in it. All she saw was Asch.
It fit…as Summer was there when Asch died, he was when she passed as well; together ever after.
I. Blind Justice
My hand quivered as I held the quill above the military contract. Asch, it’s the only thing you can do, I told myself. You’re skilled with a sword. You’re going to be a hero. You. Must. Do. This. The quill pressed down against the parchment as I signed: Asch Matin. As the general folded up the paper, I knew that my soul was already gone.
I saw the carriage off and stepped back into my house. “Ma,” I yelled through the house, “I’ll be gone tomorrow.” The empty house didn’t answer; Ma wasn’t home. Ma was never home. She’d been killed by the invading forces about a month ago, stabbed by three knights at once. To think that they’d even been called ‘knights’. The Ristaccian army had been under my family’s control for a while, as the Matin family had been one of nobles. However, the Revolution came and…well, that was the end of that. We had to leave the country, to Ristaccia.
“Stay here, Asch, and don’t move.”
“Mama, what’s gunna happen to me?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be safe.” She drew her sword.
“Mama, I’m scared.”
She left the room.
Father had been killed as well, leaving me to my own means as the breadwinner for myself, a fickle excuse for a family. I entered the empty house and sat in a chair that my family’s woodsmen had constructed when we were still nobles. It was the only memento of my father that I had left. I don’t feel sad about this, though; whenever I sit in, touch, or even pass the chair, I feel his spirit calling out to me.
“Asch…oh, hunny, Asch…”
“What is it, mama?”
“Father…oh, father…”
“What about Father, mama?”
“He’s…he’s dead, Asch.”
She left the room.
I heard a knock on the door. “Enter,” I said to whomever it was. A voice answered my command instead of the normal figure. “Guess who~,” she chimed. I perked up, hearing the voice of my childhood friend, Summer Nox. “Ah, Summer,” I said, like nothing had happened. “It’s been a while.” I got up and opened the door for her. Her blond hair trailed behind her as she tackle-hugged me by surprise, the tassels of her hat touching my face as I toppled to the ground. “Yeah, since yesterday,” Summer chuckled. She tugged at my braid. “What’s this, now?” she asked me. “Loyalty?” I paused, remembering how the only real reason anyone would braid their hair was to show their recruitment to the Tierian forces. I stuttered out a “Y-yeah” and brushed her off, tucking my braid back into my shirt.
“Asch, I don’t want you fraternizing with that Summer girl any longer.”
“But why, mama, she’s nice to me!”
“She’s a commoner, a peasant, and we’re above them.”
“But mama, she plays with me!”
She sighed and left the room.
“I have something for you~” she chimed, getting off me and standing me up. “Now close your eyes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out something that looked like a ribbon. She turned me around and pulled out my braid. “What’s this?” I asked her. “You’ll see,” she told me, fiddling with the ends of my hair. “Almost…done…tah-dah!” she proclaimed. I opened my eyes and took my braid in my hand, to see a white satin ribbon tied around the end of my hair. “Summer, I—I can’t wear this!” I said to her, only half touched. She cocked her head. “But-but why not?” she asked. “I just won’t look like a man, I suppose,” I said, turning my back to her. I sighed. “But it’s my gift to you, at least wear it when…when…” Her eyes started to tear up. That’s when I noticed: Summer’s family was killed as well.
“Mama, Summer’s father died!”
“Don’t cry, Asch, he died in dignity.”
“But—but it’s Summer’s father!”
“He died for his country—our country.”
She left the room.
“I—I’ll take it back. Asch…you just mean so much to me, I don’t want you to leave me. I want to be there if you die…” she said to me. I sighed, remembering how Summer could like something that killed her family. “Fine,” I said to her. “I’ll wear it, only if it makes you feel better.” I went up to her and hugged her. “I promise you, I swear to you, I will NOT die.” She started to cry a bit. “Thank—thank you,” she said, embracing me once again. She left the house, but stopped in the doorway. “Be safe,” she half said/half whispered to me. She continued walking.
Time passed, and in about a week I was shipped off to the barracks. The barracks weren’t as comfortable as my home, and I missed Summer’s frequent visits, her fanciful speeches, her glistening golden hair, her tackle hugs, her entire presence. And most of all, I missed her prayer. I could still hear her voice saying it.
“Mama, Summer has her own prayer!”
“Really now? That’s great!”
“Yeah! Yeah! Her mother is Ionilian!”
“Oh…! Really now… That’s…great…!”
She left the room.
More time passed, and after our training we were sent off to Durex, where the Ristaccian forces were said to attack next. I took my braid in my hand and pressed Summer’s ribbon to my lips. “Tore my heart, my friend, that's you wanted to? No can make my faith illusion, can you stay with me? Or just go away…You see my tears, it's a doomed reunion...” I recited, trying to remember Summer’s prayer. We continued on to Durex, drawing up military plans, but all I could think about was Summer, Summer, Summer.
Durex came, but the Ristaccian army wasn’t there as we had expected. General told one of us to go out as bait…I decided that Summer would’ve wanted me to become a hero, just as I had. I could become one…if only I had the risk. I stood up, unsheathed my sword, and ran across the battlefield. That’s when I saw the first arrow shot. The Ristaccian forces were here.
Our army emerged from hiding onto the battlefield, but it was too late for me. The first arrow…well, I had been shot. I blacked out.
“Mama, someday when I grow up, I wanna be a hero!”
“You will get to be if you want to, Asch.”
“Mama, you’re the coolest!”
“No, you are, my little hero!”
She left the room.
II. Ristaccia
I awoke in shackles in a Ristaccian dungeon, stuck in this place. A prisoner of war. How long had I been out for…? It was dark. The only light came from a window above. I looked out; it had turned to winter. Perhaps I had died, then come back…? No. That could never have happened. And yet…
I reached back for my braid, which had been stained with blood. Summer’s ribbon had now turned red, as had my hair. Stained with my blood, stained as much as the stained glass windows in the Ionilian cathedrals back in Tieria. How I miss Tieria. How I miss home. How I miss Summer…
“Surprise, Asch!”
“Summer?!? But…what’s this?”
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it? I got you a present.”
“It’s…it’s great, thanks!”
She laughed as if nothing was wrong in the world.
I turned to see a plate of bread and water at the edge of my cell. I quickly drank up, seeing as how the water would freeze if I left it too long. I ate the bread piece by piece, savouring it as if it would be the last on Brinknorre…
What was I to do here? There’s nothing. Just a window. Nothing else. There’s no water. My pockets were looted. I had nothing. I couldn’t escape. I only had the walls to keep me company. I laid in the corner of the cell and fell asleep.
“Asch! Wait up!”
I turned. “Summer? Why are you here?”
“No reason. I just followed you.”
“What did you want to tell me?”
“Nothing, really…I just wanted you to notice.”
“Notice?”
“Yes, notice. I wanted you to notice the sun shining, the birds singing, the ground fertile and moist from the rains, the green of the trees, the n** of cold in the air, the melting snow…ah, these days make me feel…amazing.”
She laughed as if nothing was wrong in the world.
I had dreams for the first time in a while that night.
It unsheathed its sword. The jewel in its blade started to gleam in the moonlight, in the presence of the king and queen. It started to dance without music, dance to its footsteps, dance to the light that was refracting off of the queen’s crown and its bloodstained sword, stained with Summer’s blood. It danced, avoiding Summer’s corpse while still keeping the nonexistent beat, and then collapsed.
The floor opened up and it fell through, as did Summer’s corpse. It dropped its sword, and three others, identical except for the type of jewel, speared Summer’s body as it landed on the hard ground. They each melded into shadow, as hands appeared from above and gave it jewels, cursed jewels, diamonds and rubies and sapphires, all stained with blood…it accepted them all, and a throne erupted from the ground, stained with Summer’s unending stream of blood. It sat upon it, raising her sword to the sky, and as a dark spark erupted from the point, Summer awoke and stood up, her dress and golden hair blowing in the wind. She turned just in time to see an unholy javelin piercing her head.
Summer fell backwards, into a tomb of swords. She was stabbed by each as she went down…each through the heart…
“Asch, you’re my best friend~!”
“R-really?”
“Yeah! Even though you’re not royalty anymore, you’re still special to me.”
“A-are you sure?”
“Yeah! Who cares about petty things like bloodlines? You’re still the same Asch Matin to me, you always will be!”
She laughed like nothing was wrong in the world.
Time passed. Every day the same. Bread. Water. Cold. It seemed as the spring would never come, let alone the Summer. What seemed like a year passed. Same thing. Every day. The pressure was too much. And the dreams…oh, the horrible dreams! Still her, still Summer, still the demonic king and queen and the swords…and…and…
“NO! I can’t TAKE it anymore!” I yelled, thrashing about the room. “MAKE THEM STOP! MAKE THEM STOP! DEAR GOD, PLEASE DO ANYTHING TO MAKE THEM STOP!” I continued to thrash about the cell. “I RENOUNCE MY CITIZENSHIP TO TIERIA! JUST MAKE THEM STOP!” I fell over on my back, knees up to my chin and hands over my ears. “NOOOOO! STOP, PLEASE, STOP! STOP IT ALL, JUST…NOOOOO!” I stood up, both hands grasping my braid. I tugged at it as hard as I could, tearing my branded symbol of the Tierian army off. “STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!!” I fell over, hitting my head against the rock walls, not noticing the blood that was leaking from my forehead.
Death came quickly and sweetly.
Summer’s bloodstained ribbon untied and frayed the braid before anyone could find out that Asch Matin, the little noble who could, had perished. Alone, and in the dark of Ristaccia.
It was cold…
III. Turill Penta Rhei
Summer knocked on Asch’s door, knowing that the house will still be empty. Time has passed since Asch left for good, and Summer didn’t know what had happened. Did he die a noble death, leaving Summer behind in this life? Did he live in glory in another place, leaving Summer behind? Did he achieve his dream of becoming a hero, leaving Summer behind? No…that wasn’t like Asch. Asch would’ve come back for her.
The army carriage came back along at this time of year. Summer knew. It had been one year. One year since the ribbon entered Asch’s possession, a year since Asch’s first battle. Summer stayed at Asch’s door as the carriage containing recruits passed by. Now was the time.
Summer followed the carriage, picking up her dress to run to the coach. “Excuse me,” she said, still running. The carriage stopped. An old man stepped out. “Yes, young miss?” Summer paused. “Are…are you the one who came around these parts last year?” The old man though for a minute, and remembered. “Yes…there was one recruit. What was his name now…Asch, was it?” Summer came closer to the man. “Do…do you know what became of him?”
The old man shook his head. “Aye, Asch…he was a fine young one. Had a life to live ahead of him too. He was captured by those bastards from Ristaccia, and forced to live for a while, could’ve been almost a year, in a dungeon, it was said. He seemed to have gone crazy…you know what they say, swans sing before they die. ‘Is head was bashed in, all bloody like , holding onto a ripped and frayed braid. The ribbon had fallen off.” Summer panicked with wide eyes. “But that’s the kind of thing you hear in bars, madam,” the old man finished. “I better be going now.”
The carriage moved on.
Summer pitched her back against the wall and started to sob, a ring falling from her hands to the ground. Was it worth it for the glory? Declining your life for that? All of the deluded, arrogant people…directed to Asch. Driving him into silence. Anger. Silence. Madness. Death.
Summer stumbled into the house that Asch used to live in. Everything still had his essence. The chair now felt of the latest Matin war hero: Asch. Summer passed the chair and headed for Asch’s spare sword. She unsheathed it and looked at herself in it. All she saw was Asch.
It fit…as Summer was there when Asch died, he was when she passed as well; together ever after.
