Post by ikkin on May 1, 2007 17:22:57 GMT -5
I figured I might as well put try to liven this place up. ^_^ So, without further ado...
The Hero's Non-journey
Rowan was supposed to be out in the fields, helping with the spring planting when the King's soldiers galloped by on their white horses calling for all military aged men to join the army, not wasting his time watching them, but he wasn't. He was, at least in his own mind, a bit of a dreamer (though his parents both knew him to be uncommonly lazy), and was unable to resist the call of adventure offered by the armored men who could free him from his boring life on the farm.
Never mind that the age required for military service was fifteen, and he had not even reached his fourteenth birthday – the soldiers didn't need to know that.
His thoughts of adventure were quickly disrupted, however, by his mother, who stormed up to him in a fury. “What are you thinking, Rowan!” she said. “If you're not going to help in the fields, at least make yourself useful and buy some more seeds! We just ran out of wheat.” Rowan hesitated a bit, which only earned him another earful. “Go! Now! Before it's time for the harvest!”
While Rowan was lazy, he didn't particularly enjoy listening to his mother's nagging, and decided that doing what she said would be best. Besides, he could probably get a good view of the soldiers as he walked to and from the marketplace – and there was no reason he couldn't take his sweet time in doing so.
“What am I going to do with that boy,” he heard his mother sigh as he turned and left. He walked a little quicker to try to get out of earshot.
Buying seeds from the marketplace wasn't a particularly interesting task, and considering the peaceful atmosphere that usually lay over his town, nothing particularly eventful happened. Certainly nothing that could have prepared Rowan for the scene he found as he walked home.
As he neared the final bend in the path through the woods that lead to his farmhouse, he noticed a trail of smoke rising from exactly where his house would be. He ran faster, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping that things weren't as they seemed and everything would be fine when he arrived home. He clutched the bag of seed to his chest – he couldn't just leave it, his mom would be mad – as he ran, finally coming to a stop when the woods could no longer hide the scene before him.
Rowan dropped his bag of seed. No... he thought, unbelieving, as he saw his house in flames, several of the walls broken in by some kind of unknown force. NO! He ran around to the fields, looking for his parents. “Mom?! Dad?! Are you oka...”
He trailed off as he saw his parents... or what was left of them. His father lay in a crumpled heap, unmoving, next to a pile of clothes that looked to have belonged to his mother. The sword which he had kept from his time in the military was next to him, clearly used to ward off some unknown attacker.
“Dad!” he yelled, shaking the older man, trying to wake him. “Dad! Are you okay?!” The older man didn't – couldn't – answer.
There was no time for tears, however, as something stirred out of the corner of Rowan's eye... something in a black cloak, holding some kind of weapon. He picked up his father's sword and ran after it. That... thing... had done this to his family. He would revenge his parents, if it was the last thing he did!
All of a sudden, just as it reached a clearing, the creature stopped, and drew its sword. Rowan charged towards it, swinging his sword down on its head. It blocked his attack, but lost (or perhaps purposefully dropped) its own sword in the process. It appeared to be one of the weakest opponents than any aspiring young hero could possibly face.
Or it would have, if it hadn't then decided to ask, “So, do you really think you can kill me?” Its voice was somehow familiar, but Rowan couldn't place it (and even if he could, he would have been too stunned by the random question to be thinking about that).
“Of course I can!” he said. “You're weaponless. I could kill you easily!”
“Really now,” it said. “You could take the life of another living person? Without any regrets? Is that really as easy as you think it is?”
Rowan looked a bit uneasy at this for a moment, then grew angry. “You killed my parents! Of course I can! I have to!” He tightened his grip on his sword, intending to finish this once and for all, before it said anything else to further confuse him.
“Do you really?” He lost his resolve, his grip loosening. It continued, “It's very simple to avoid it. All you have to do is not stab me through with that sword. That's not very difficult, is it?”
“But then you'll get away with murder!” Rowan was grasping for straws now. He couldn't lose a debate with a random minion about whether he was going to kill it or not!
“How do you know that I was the one who did it? For all you know, I could have just been on the wrong side or something.”
“But you still helped by being there!”
“That I won't deny. But you won't kill me for it,” the cloaked figure said confidently.
“How do you know that?!” Rowan decided after he said it that he sounded far too much like he'd given in already, but couldn't be bothered to try to correct it. As much as he didn't like it, the figure was right. He couldn't kill it.
The figure pulled off its cloak, and everything around the two seemed to change. The smoke rising from the farmhouse vanished, along with all the damage to the house itself. And the uncloaked figure smirked and said, “Because I'm your mother.”
Rowan dropped the sword, his mouth agape at the sudden revelation. “But... how?! Why?! And, what about dad?!”
“What, didn't I ever tell you I was an illusion mage in my younger years?” Rowan's mother said. “Your father's fine. He just agreed to this setup, to get those ideas of running away and becoming a soldier out of your head.”
Rowan was clearly confused at how she could tell what his plans were. “But I never said I wanted to...”
“I'm your mother,” she said. “I know these kind of things. And I know what's best for you. You're just not cut out to be a soldier.”
He had to admit she was right about that. If he couldn't kill someone who he thought had murdered his family, he certainly wouldn't do very well in the military. “Okay, okay, I've learned my lesson,” he said.
“Well, then, we still need help planting the seeds you brought back,” she said.
And Rowan had to admit as he went to the fields to help out, that this was the gladdest he'd ever felt to just be a simple farmboy.
The Hero's Non-journey
Rowan was supposed to be out in the fields, helping with the spring planting when the King's soldiers galloped by on their white horses calling for all military aged men to join the army, not wasting his time watching them, but he wasn't. He was, at least in his own mind, a bit of a dreamer (though his parents both knew him to be uncommonly lazy), and was unable to resist the call of adventure offered by the armored men who could free him from his boring life on the farm.
Never mind that the age required for military service was fifteen, and he had not even reached his fourteenth birthday – the soldiers didn't need to know that.
His thoughts of adventure were quickly disrupted, however, by his mother, who stormed up to him in a fury. “What are you thinking, Rowan!” she said. “If you're not going to help in the fields, at least make yourself useful and buy some more seeds! We just ran out of wheat.” Rowan hesitated a bit, which only earned him another earful. “Go! Now! Before it's time for the harvest!”
While Rowan was lazy, he didn't particularly enjoy listening to his mother's nagging, and decided that doing what she said would be best. Besides, he could probably get a good view of the soldiers as he walked to and from the marketplace – and there was no reason he couldn't take his sweet time in doing so.
“What am I going to do with that boy,” he heard his mother sigh as he turned and left. He walked a little quicker to try to get out of earshot.
Buying seeds from the marketplace wasn't a particularly interesting task, and considering the peaceful atmosphere that usually lay over his town, nothing particularly eventful happened. Certainly nothing that could have prepared Rowan for the scene he found as he walked home.
As he neared the final bend in the path through the woods that lead to his farmhouse, he noticed a trail of smoke rising from exactly where his house would be. He ran faster, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping that things weren't as they seemed and everything would be fine when he arrived home. He clutched the bag of seed to his chest – he couldn't just leave it, his mom would be mad – as he ran, finally coming to a stop when the woods could no longer hide the scene before him.
Rowan dropped his bag of seed. No... he thought, unbelieving, as he saw his house in flames, several of the walls broken in by some kind of unknown force. NO! He ran around to the fields, looking for his parents. “Mom?! Dad?! Are you oka...”
He trailed off as he saw his parents... or what was left of them. His father lay in a crumpled heap, unmoving, next to a pile of clothes that looked to have belonged to his mother. The sword which he had kept from his time in the military was next to him, clearly used to ward off some unknown attacker.
“Dad!” he yelled, shaking the older man, trying to wake him. “Dad! Are you okay?!” The older man didn't – couldn't – answer.
There was no time for tears, however, as something stirred out of the corner of Rowan's eye... something in a black cloak, holding some kind of weapon. He picked up his father's sword and ran after it. That... thing... had done this to his family. He would revenge his parents, if it was the last thing he did!
All of a sudden, just as it reached a clearing, the creature stopped, and drew its sword. Rowan charged towards it, swinging his sword down on its head. It blocked his attack, but lost (or perhaps purposefully dropped) its own sword in the process. It appeared to be one of the weakest opponents than any aspiring young hero could possibly face.
Or it would have, if it hadn't then decided to ask, “So, do you really think you can kill me?” Its voice was somehow familiar, but Rowan couldn't place it (and even if he could, he would have been too stunned by the random question to be thinking about that).
“Of course I can!” he said. “You're weaponless. I could kill you easily!”
“Really now,” it said. “You could take the life of another living person? Without any regrets? Is that really as easy as you think it is?”
Rowan looked a bit uneasy at this for a moment, then grew angry. “You killed my parents! Of course I can! I have to!” He tightened his grip on his sword, intending to finish this once and for all, before it said anything else to further confuse him.
“Do you really?” He lost his resolve, his grip loosening. It continued, “It's very simple to avoid it. All you have to do is not stab me through with that sword. That's not very difficult, is it?”
“But then you'll get away with murder!” Rowan was grasping for straws now. He couldn't lose a debate with a random minion about whether he was going to kill it or not!
“How do you know that I was the one who did it? For all you know, I could have just been on the wrong side or something.”
“But you still helped by being there!”
“That I won't deny. But you won't kill me for it,” the cloaked figure said confidently.
“How do you know that?!” Rowan decided after he said it that he sounded far too much like he'd given in already, but couldn't be bothered to try to correct it. As much as he didn't like it, the figure was right. He couldn't kill it.
The figure pulled off its cloak, and everything around the two seemed to change. The smoke rising from the farmhouse vanished, along with all the damage to the house itself. And the uncloaked figure smirked and said, “Because I'm your mother.”
Rowan dropped the sword, his mouth agape at the sudden revelation. “But... how?! Why?! And, what about dad?!”
“What, didn't I ever tell you I was an illusion mage in my younger years?” Rowan's mother said. “Your father's fine. He just agreed to this setup, to get those ideas of running away and becoming a soldier out of your head.”
Rowan was clearly confused at how she could tell what his plans were. “But I never said I wanted to...”
“I'm your mother,” she said. “I know these kind of things. And I know what's best for you. You're just not cut out to be a soldier.”
He had to admit she was right about that. If he couldn't kill someone who he thought had murdered his family, he certainly wouldn't do very well in the military. “Okay, okay, I've learned my lesson,” he said.
“Well, then, we still need help planting the seeds you brought back,” she said.
And Rowan had to admit as he went to the fields to help out, that this was the gladdest he'd ever felt to just be a simple farmboy.
