#tales of the rising son

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Tales of the Rising Son: Part 2 - Snippet

From Ch. 11

Ryomé blocked another dagger as it slashed toward his stomach, using the goblin’s momentum to stagger him before pulling his own blade across its side and giving him a hard kick. It sent the goblin screeching, blood spilling onto the dirt, and Ryomé found himself out of breath already.

“Dying and coming back must really take a toll on the body, huh?” He huffed lightly to Howland, who was at his back. “Always said I’d sleep when I’m dead, but now I kind of want a nap.” 

“Not funny,” Howland grimaced, cutting down another goblin armed with two blades. He stepped back as it fell into the dirt. “Don’t joke about that stuff.”

“Well, it’s at least partially true.” Ryomé frowned, trying to catch his breath. “I’m not moving like I was able to a week ago; I’m tired.”

The whistle of an arrow made his ears ring, and he narrowly dodged it before a villager killed the monster with an arrow of their own. Ryomé felt mentally scattered too, to top it all off. He was wondering if Irie was okay, or if they had been ambushed as well. He knew she could hold her own, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be overwhelmed. The same applied to him. What if they didn’t make it out of this? It wasn’t a big ambush, but he wasn’t in peak form. 

As if he could read the Prince’s mind, Howland tugged Ryomé back by the sleeve. “Don’t get distracted. I need you to focus.” 

“Sorry,” he swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t like feeling useless.”

Howland grunted, moving fast as he kicked another goblin away before grabbing Ryomé by the arm and beginning to drag him through the fighting. Ryomé thought for sure the old man was going to say something, but he seemed to either think better of it or he was too distracted by the battle to say it. Either way, it didn’t help the twinge of frustration in the Prince. He knew he could do better than this; he couldn’t help it that he was trying to use humor to cope with it. A small ambush like this should be no trouble for him.

Just then, another sound cut across the shouts and clangs of metal. It wasn’t an arrow… no, this was different. It grew in loudness, and it was a shrill, dark sound, like the cry of a banshee on the hunt. It chilled Ryomé to the bone. It made Howland stop dead in his tracks as all fighting ceased for a moment. The sound grew so loud, many covered their ears, until it suddenly stopped. Everyone looked around, dazed, wondering if they had imagined it. But the Prince could tell something was coming. 

No.

Something was already here.

Just then, he felt a presence behind him. He spun around just as a large hand closed around his throat. In what felt like only a fraction of a second, he was on a rooftop, and the hand that grabbed him now had him standing at the edge. Ryomé’s boots barely had a foothold on the wooden beam. The figure was cloaked and as tall as they were broad. He couldn’t see their face, but immediately a sense of evil washed over him. Then, his eyes wandered to the thing in its hand and he felt the blood drain from his face.

It was a staff of bones fused together, and at the top of the staff, tied to several dark red ropes, were human skulls. They dangled like ornaments, their jaws hanging open and the sockets darker than night. Etched into the bones and skulls were many holes and black symbols. They were runes; ancient runes. Ryomé had seen these markings before. He had seen them the day Tallon and Irie were taken on that misshapen, bone-carved arrow. This was old, dark magic.

Howland shouted for the Prince, and Ryomé knew he could see what was happening right now. A fall from this height most likely wouldn’t kill him, but it would certainly injure. That knowledge didn’t keep Ryomé’s body from tensing up, however. The creature holding him raised the hand holding the staff and shouts went up from the villagers below. Ryomé tried to twist around to see what was happening, but the figure shook him and one of Ryomé’s feet slipped off the roof and into open air. He gasped and grabbed the figure’s arm out of instinct more than anything.

“Don’t move.” The figure said. Its voice was warped, gargled, and dark. It made Ryomé freeze up against his will. The thing leaned in closer, its grip never loosening from the Prince’s neck. He felt like it was looking into his very soul. “Interesting. I know who you are. Looks like this turned out in my favor.”

What do they mean by that? Who is this person? Are they even human? Ryomé’s mind was racing right alongside his heart. They don’t feel human. No… they’re something other. Something old, just like their magic.

[starrcrossrose]

Here are some of the illustrations from Part 1 of the story! Pls check my other post under the tag “Tales of the Rising Son” or “TotRS” on my page to find the other posts :)

[h-r-setalla]

Tales of the Rising Son: Part 2 - Snippet

From Chapter 9

“Eat up! The food from this shop is delicious, and I wanted to see if they were making anything special today. Turns out, they are!”

Ryomé sat and opened his bag, pulling out a small, cloth-wrapped loaf of warm bread, a small, polished wooden box of sweet-smelling butter, and a bundle of parchment paper. Inside the parchment paper were fresh cooked deer strips - still warm - and folded into the opposite side were three different slices of cheese. It was strange that everything was packaged separately, but Irie was already tearing her bread into sections before halfing them again and spreading the sweet smelling butter across it. He followed her lead, taking a few bites of bread, butter, meat and cheese before saying anything.

“Speaking of special,” Ryome starts. “Astor mentioned that this is all for the Moon Festival and that you were supposed to bring it up to me?”

She paused mid-chew before sitting back into her chair and swallowing. With a wave and sign gesture to a waitress for two waters, she leaned back toward him. “Howland wanted to leave this morning, but Astor and I thought it might be best for us to stay another day since you just woke up and are still recovering. Also… I guess, I thought it would be cool to experience a small-scale, local festival.”

He tipped his head to the side, preparing another piece of bread for meat and cheese. “Do you not have any back home?”

“Only the really big ones, like when our Kingdom was founded. Because we are a new Kingdom, we are still trying to find our own way to do things. We still celebrate the Sun Festival, but not on the scale Pharos does. My father wanted us to start our own traditions, but I think he forgets to put things together due to how busy he is.”

“So, you want to see what Pharos festivals are like?” He smiled slowly, leaning his cheek onto one propped hand. “Why didn’t you just say so earlier?”

She seemed taken aback. “I thought you would think it silly and childish. I didn’t want to impose on you if you wanted to leave right away by being selfish. I also… didn’t want you to think I was putting off the search for Tallon. I know how important he is to you, and of course he’s incredibly important to me, too.”

“Irie,” he started, turning his words over in his mind for a moment before continuing. “I know you. I know you wouldn’t ever forget Tallon, especially when he’s missing. Staying one more night isn’t a bad thing. And, you and Astor are correct in saying I need another day to recuperate. I’m still getting used to walking again. If we continue to walk around this evening, I’ll just be in better shape for tomorrow. Besides, if we had left today, I would’ve made sure to make it up to you by bringing you to the next small, traditional festival.”

Her eyes began to water and, with an embarrassed chuckle, she quickly wiped at them before taking more bites of her lunch. The iced waters arrived and Ryomé gave the waitress a friendly smile and a thank you as she left. Turning his attention back to his friend, he saw her already watching him. “Then, it’s okay with you if we leave in the morning?”

“Yes,” he sipped his water and let his eyes wander along the busy streets. “Besides… I can’t remember the last time I was able to partake in the Moon Festival. Something about it feels right after… everything.”

Irie finished her food and leaned onto the table with her elbows, setting her chin on the back of her hand. It was a small thing, but suddenly, Ryomé could hear Tallon’s voice in his head again. That isn’t ladylike, Irie. You aren’t supposed to have your elbows on the table. I swear to Pharah, you and Ryomé are too alike sometimes.

He was shaken from his thoughts a moment later when Irie asked, “What happened to you? What did you see when you were… you know?”

The Prince looked down into his glass, watching as the ice cubes shifted his reflection across the surface. He wanted to tell her, but he also didn’t feel ready to disclose anything. His memory of that place was still fragmented except for the touch and voice of that woman. 

Instead he settled for, “A lot. But, that’s a story for another day. What matters is that I’m alive, and we can look for Tallon now.”

She set a hand on his shoulder and nodded in understanding. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen. Just remember that.”

He smiled. “I will.”

[h-r-setalla]

Tales of the Rising Son: Part 3 Snippet

Runa nudged him from behind with her arm, but Tallon was already moving. He knew an order when he heard one, and he wasn’t going to push his luck when he didn’t know just what kind of situation he was in yet. He kept his head up, even as every inch of him wanted to shrink under the intense gazes of the people around him. There were probably fifteen to twenty of them crowded into the space, and he wondered how many of them held positions of power. He’d keep an eye out in case no one told him.

The seat looked worn down and was covered in scuffs and scratches. There were even some dark stains that he feared may be blood. Tallon tried not to think about what could’ve happened to the others who had sat in this very spot. He took a seat, still sitting tall even though his head was beginning to hurt more. The still healing gash on his face was starting to throb, in rhythm with his heartbeat. Just hang in there. This is your chance. He took a moment to re-center himself before letting his gaze drift back up to the Captain’s. 

The man was still just sitting there, watching him. The room was fully quiet now, everyone’s eyes directly on him. Most of them had the bottom halves of their faces covered, and Tallon didn’t flinch away whenever he caught one of their gazes. Instead, he let himself look at each one within his view as much as he could without looking like he was gathering “intel”. The trick was to look as casual and unthreatened as possible, even if the Captain before him was making that task difficult.

Then, someone stepped out from a shadow behind the Captain and Tallon narrowed his gaze as another masked figure stepped forward. This one’s mask was black, mirroring the Captain’s, and they held themselves with an air of importance. It wasn’t until they spoke that Tallon realized who it was.

“May we begin now, Captain?” Quinlan urged, the barest hint of impatience underlining his request.

“We already have.” The Captain replied evenly, not bothering to look at the young man at his side. He leaned forward, setting his elbows onto the desk and resting his chin on the back of a fist, the dark eyes of the raven mask still settled directly on Tallon. “You’re an inquisitive one, aren’t you?”

Tallon stiffened ever so slightly. “With all due respect, sir, I think anyone in my position would have inquiries about this place and its people.”

“Indeed.” The Captain’s mouth pulled into a tight smile. “You, however, are a potential threat. Normally, my people and I dispose of threats before they ever see the inside of this camp. I made an exception with you for now. Whether it stays that way or not will depend on your answers to my questions.”

He felt the telltale prick of nervousness in his hands. “I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“You will answer with the truth.” The Captain said firmly. “Nothing else.” Tallon merely nodded, not wanting to push his luck before he’d even begun. He steeled himself, unsure what direction the interrogation was going to go in.

Quinlan stepped out from behind the desk, his mask gleaming in the light from the crystals around the room. “Why were you on the road the day you were attacked?”

All hope Tallon might’ve had about doing well during this felt like it flew out the window. He couldn’t remember what happened, much less how he’d arrived here. He clenched his jaw. “I don’t remember.”

The Captain tipped his head. “And you expect us to believe that?”

“If I were lying, I have a feeling you’d know.” He said with more calmness than he actually felt.

“Irrelevant.” Quinlan waved a hand dismissively. “Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t remember; that’s the truth.” Tallon didn’t bother hiding the bite underlining his words. “In fact, I was really hoping you guys could tell me what happened to me and how I got here. All I know is that I woke up with foggy to nonexistent memory and a nasty head and face injury, among others.”

The Captain sat back further into his chair. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? How are we expected to trust that you aren’t just acting?”

“You don’t.” Tallon grumbled. “But I have no way of proving it to you.”

Quinlan scoffed. “So you’re telling me that you aren’t a royal spy?”

“Royal spy?” Tallon repeated, raising a brow and almost immediately regretting it when it pulled at his still healing injury. “I may not remember much but I know I’m not that.”

When the boy opened his mouth to speak again the Captain cleared his throat pointedly, making him stiffen where he stood. When it was clear he wasn’t going to speak again, the Captain leaned his weight forward, arms resting on his legs. “I want to believe you, child. But we have strong reasons to be suspicious. The timing of us finding you, the fact of who you are, and who was involved with the attack on your person; all of these things point to suspicion and ill will. I have an obligation to protect my people. We have been hidden away for quite a long time, and there aren’t nearly as many of us as there used to be. So, if your memory is ‘foggy’, as you put it, then maybe I can help you remember.”

He snapped his fingers and a different cloaked member approached him, something folded in their arms. Tallon couldn’t quite see what it was at first, but as the Captain unfolded it and held it up, he felt a jolt of recognition and panic lance through his heart and lungs.

“Irie.”

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Royals Trio: Chibi-ish

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Tales of the Rising Son: Royal Trio