Lost Isle Among Endless seas

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Cable_Extreme

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#1  Edited By Cable_Extreme

Hey guys, bear with me, I am not amazing at this but I felt like writing after listening to a song that made me feel good. I haven't thought of this beforehand so I am just going to write and see what happens. Please read, enjoy, and critique me as needed. Sometimes I need to write to let my constant fantasy and dreaming free so I don't get lost. I have thoughts like these daily and would love to learn how to write fantasy.

Chapter One

The day grows late as the light recedes past the hills casting shadows that dance along the flow of the valley. The bright twilight illuminates the top of the mountains which surround the interconnected Islands in a beautiful light show of nature. In this valley there resides a peculiar village with no name. In this village there exist a tavern where a mysterious hooded man is sitting at the bar drinking ale out of a handcrafted whalebone mug decorated with the the journey this man has taken throughout his life. On this mug there is a person standing on top of a mountain walking with his hands raised to the heavens. The turbulent waves were rising gradually in size as they went around the mug and eventually dwarfed the mountain side.

This man was no doubt a stranger among these people, his whole demeanor was a nest of confusion for the local villagers. He remained silently sitting on the side of the bar reclusing himself from the social interaction many people desperately wanted. Where was he from? What is he doing here? Many questions people were eager to ask this mystery of a man. The only clues about this hooded figure are the items that he carries. He has a black travel bag that he could strap across the back of one of his shoulders, he wielded a wooden walking stick that was carved with markings of the wind, and a sword on his hip.

In the day and age of these people, swords were rather hard to come by as the required ore was a rarity. Ore was only obtainable for those who ventured to the treacherous parts of the isles. The parts of the islands filled with perilous mystery and as a result, people are desperately warned since childhood of the dangers that lurk in these zones. The east side of the Isles, the treacherous zone, is flat marsh with a constant eerie mist that envelopes the land year round. There are mountains and land on the other side of the mist which few dare to go, this is the zone where Iron and gold is mined for those brave and lucky souls who make it back.

The twilight recedes past the upper reaches of the mountains as nighttime creeps across the land. Oil lamps are then lit and placed at the entrances of all the doorways in town giving a breathtaking view, especially from the mountain tops. The hooded figure finishes his ale and starts making his way to the door. A young bearded man was laying in a hammock with a straw hat and chewing on some wheat. He started making his way towards the man. This man was wearing a beard to compensate for his youth, and smaller stature. He decided to reach for the hooded man's sword to look at it and perhaps run as they fetch a significant fortune amoung the villagers. As he reached for it the hooded man seemingly vanished as well as the bearded man in the eyes of the villagers. Unbeknownst to the villagers in the tavern, the hooded man reacted to the attempted theft by swiping at the bearded man with his walking stick as the bearded man slimly dodged and followed the old man outside where their scuffle continued. All this happened relatively quickly as it required a keen eye to capture the speed of what happened.

The mystery men were engaged in a battle of wits and speed as they danced to the rhythm of each other. They managed to counter each other quite effectively barely wasting any movement in their attack and defending efforts. A small smile, a barely noticeable micro expression arose on the mouths of both fighters as they continued their dance of death until something unheard of happened. The old man's eyes glowed and a shockwave knocked the young bearded man down who was horrified by the confusing occurrence of something unknown. The young man's vision started to dim as his head dropped back and he passed out.

There is an old legend among these parts, and extravagant childhood tale told at children's bedtimes about a man and his brother being the first visitors on the Island and managed to map it (aside from the treacherous zone). Not much is known how they traveled here, but they managed to bring more people here as a new life started. The islands were a perfect refuge filled with everything a small society would need and the head of this society was the elder brother Kroden. The younger brother Durzul accepted his position but was inherently jealous to be second in command. These two brothers one day started talking and eventually decided to venture into the treacherous zone. This part of the story changes depending on who tells it, but something happened as they returned. The two brothers were different, they had special abilities having found a glowing stone which they both touched and the light from the stone rushed inside of them only to glow dimly and eventually grow dark.

With this newfound power, Durzul challenges his brother to the throne, who out of fear of hurting his brother gives it willingly to avoid collateral damage. Durzul's rule became tyrannic as he enforced heavy taxes and strict punishment. Kroden seeing his brother's wickedness decides to battle him at a volcano, winner takes all. The villagers reported hearing thunder without storm clouds, and feeling earthquakes that rattled the concerned villagers to their the very core. At the volcano, Durzul's stamina fails before Kroden resulting in Durzul's defeat. However something mysterious happened that day, in the wake of Kroden's victory, his brother Durzul stated "I will return in 500 years, I will not let you die until you see your islands burned and your villagers enslaved", he then placed a spell on Kroden to prolong his life for a devious reason so he would inevitably witness the fall of his society by the hands of his younger brother Durzul. Durzul then journeyed into the treacherous zone and vanished in the mist never to be seen again. Time had lost the king's relationship with his people and this story eventually faded into a myth.

The young man awoke in a small hut in the forest to the hooded man sitting on a log and smoking a pipe. The man gasped in fear at the sight of the man whom was staring at him intensely as his eyes appeared to pierce through the young man. The old man ask the young bearded man, "what is your name"? The young man confused and hesitant said, "Joseph". The young man ask "Why? What is your name"? The old man smiled and said "Kroden".