This is a story I just started because I am tired of Pokemon Stories. This is meant to be a fantasy story for all ages.
Prologue
On the first day of the first month of the first year of the wars of Ainsford Drayas I, a child was born. The boy, to be exact, was born to a farmer's wife in the village of Hidesdale in the eastern mountains. So small and tucked away was Hidesdale from the rest of Chinthe, that wind of the war did not reach their ears until two years after the war began. The news trickled down like water in a stream, and, also like that water, began to collect dirt and lies. The people heard that the war was between all races: humans, elves, dragons, and even the forest nymphs. Of course this was false because, like all sensible creatures, elves knew to stay away from wars, dragons never busied themselves with mortal affairs, and the forest nymphs were content to dance peacefully in the meadows. However, in the secluded village, none had ever seen so much as an elephant, let alone one of those rare creatures, and knew nothing of the nature of such things.
Most of the farmers and the lot knew to stay away from trouble and hardly mentioned the war, for they were practical people and only bothered with things concerning them, such as when dinner was coming or how the season’s crops would do. The aforementioned boy was young when he began dreaming. He felt he was far more significant than the life given to him. Often the boy looked to the sky, hoping an eagle or even a dragon would swoop down and whisk him away to fight in the war. His parents and elders told him to stop thinking such nonsense and look down at the earth where he would be for the rest of his life. Still, his dreams lived on as he grew.
"Now, Kall, be careful with that bucket, you don't want to drop it like last time."
"I know, I know!" replied Kall indignantly. He was a muscular boy of seventeen, tall for his age.
"Well, boy, I was just making sure, because everything we lose is profit gone," croaked an old man with long grey beard and feeble bones. "This year's crop isn't going to be the greatest, so we must gather as much as we can from the animals."
Kall worked on his father's farm so that it would one day be his. Or at least, that is what his father always said. The real reason that Kall worked so hard on that farm was because there was nothing else to do. There was little hope of ever leaving the village, the last time that had happened had been twenty years ago, and nobody had come since. He had no friends his age either, meaning that there was nothing to distract him from working on the farm. Even if he were to leave, he would get very far. He had no training as anything but a farm hand and there was little work for a person like that in the royal army. He knew that those rights came of birth, not of want or willingness.
As night fell on that day, Kall's life would change ever so drastically. He looked deep into the mirror above his small bed, hating everything he saw. His mid-length blond hair fell over his blue eyes, which, peeking out, showed wear. Though muscular and strong, he was still growing into his body. His feet were too large, his hands too small. Even his nose seemed to jut out too much. He went to sleep not knowing what the next day held in store for him
Pronunciation Guide:
Chinthe: Chǐn-tā
Anisford Drayas: Īns-fōrd Drā-äs
Kall: Käl
Mur: Mûr
Mak: Măk
Prologue
On the first day of the first month of the first year of the wars of Ainsford Drayas I, a child was born. The boy, to be exact, was born to a farmer's wife in the village of Hidesdale in the eastern mountains. So small and tucked away was Hidesdale from the rest of Chinthe, that wind of the war did not reach their ears until two years after the war began. The news trickled down like water in a stream, and, also like that water, began to collect dirt and lies. The people heard that the war was between all races: humans, elves, dragons, and even the forest nymphs. Of course this was false because, like all sensible creatures, elves knew to stay away from wars, dragons never busied themselves with mortal affairs, and the forest nymphs were content to dance peacefully in the meadows. However, in the secluded village, none had ever seen so much as an elephant, let alone one of those rare creatures, and knew nothing of the nature of such things.
Most of the farmers and the lot knew to stay away from trouble and hardly mentioned the war, for they were practical people and only bothered with things concerning them, such as when dinner was coming or how the season’s crops would do. The aforementioned boy was young when he began dreaming. He felt he was far more significant than the life given to him. Often the boy looked to the sky, hoping an eagle or even a dragon would swoop down and whisk him away to fight in the war. His parents and elders told him to stop thinking such nonsense and look down at the earth where he would be for the rest of his life. Still, his dreams lived on as he grew.
"Now, Kall, be careful with that bucket, you don't want to drop it like last time."
"I know, I know!" replied Kall indignantly. He was a muscular boy of seventeen, tall for his age.
"Well, boy, I was just making sure, because everything we lose is profit gone," croaked an old man with long grey beard and feeble bones. "This year's crop isn't going to be the greatest, so we must gather as much as we can from the animals."
Kall worked on his father's farm so that it would one day be his. Or at least, that is what his father always said. The real reason that Kall worked so hard on that farm was because there was nothing else to do. There was little hope of ever leaving the village, the last time that had happened had been twenty years ago, and nobody had come since. He had no friends his age either, meaning that there was nothing to distract him from working on the farm. Even if he were to leave, he would get very far. He had no training as anything but a farm hand and there was little work for a person like that in the royal army. He knew that those rights came of birth, not of want or willingness.
As night fell on that day, Kall's life would change ever so drastically. He looked deep into the mirror above his small bed, hating everything he saw. His mid-length blond hair fell over his blue eyes, which, peeking out, showed wear. Though muscular and strong, he was still growing into his body. His feet were too large, his hands too small. Even his nose seemed to jut out too much. He went to sleep not knowing what the next day held in store for him
Pronunciation Guide:
Chinthe: Chǐn-tā
Anisford Drayas: Īns-fōrd Drā-äs
Kall: Käl
Mur: Mûr
Mak: Măk
