imwritingnow

[imwritingnow]

I'm writing a book! Part 2

La’tal found himself calming as La’vaa lied still. He smiled, and walked towards the chamber door, knocking. “Datu” he called through the door, “Send in the guard, the King is dead.”

As La’vaa’s life left his body, La’tal felt a sort of energy invigorate him. Watching the guard remove La’vaa’s body, La’tal began to understand what that meant. He felt younger, more aware of his body. He had taken his fathers life into him over the last few months, and by killing him, any remaining vitality flooded La’tal. He began to conceive of ways to ensure eternal life. Over the next few hours, La’tal found his method. He again called for Datu, who entered the room. Shorter than La’tal, with light brown hair, and a youthful confidence. He has been in the royal guard for quite some time now, and La’tal had come to like him in the last few decades, promoting him just recently to be his personal guard.

“Datu, summon everyone to the base of the tower, I must address the Eshen.”

“Yes sir.” Datu said, turning to the exit.

Sometime later, La’tal heard the bell ring out, indicating from below that everyone had gathered. He approached the balcony, and began to speak.

“Lesharr has favored me above and beyond all others!” he proclaimed to the gathered masses. Silence.

“In commune with Him, it has been decided that I am to take his role, to become the protector of all Eshen!” La’tal continued, this time mummers began.

“Watch now if you don’t believe. Lesharr has made me unkillable!” He said, stepping on to the balcony railing. The crowd gasped, and screamed as La’tal stepped off, beginning a freefall. As he neared the ground, using The Resonance he slowed his fall and landed gently on his feet, in front of his subjects.

“Pledge yourselves to me, and you will be protected by me as your new god, or turn your back to me and decay.” La’tal raised his arms just above his shoulders, and as he did, the gathered crowed kneeled, and began praying to La’tal, unbeknownst to them, this action bound them to him for as long as they believed in his divinity.

[imwritingnow]

I'm writing a book!

“La’tal, come here for a moment.”

La’vaa called out to his son from the marble balcony, not bothering to turn away from the horizon. The orange waves created by the setting sun beamed through the deep purple banners hanging from the ceiling, granting a lavender glow to the white stone that the chamber was cut from. Each banner bore the insignia of House Velth, a narrow, whiskered oval that La’tal always thought resembled a vertical eyeball. Looking up from his studies, La’tal glanced towards his Father and sneered, a sharp resentment had begun building ever since La’vaa was crowned as King of Outrus, centuries ago now. Each decision La’vaa made only served to splinter the familial connection, as La’tal witnessed his father’s weakness. From freeing the half breed laborers in his first years, to ending raids on Orcin lands just a month ago, each action La’vaa took served to damage Outrus in one way or another.

“Of course, father.”

La’tal stood, drawing out every action, from slowly marking his page before closing his book, to making a show out of sliding his chair into place under his desk. Making sure each step was as perfectly placed as it could be, he gave the appearance of gliding, stopping at his father’s side. The sunlight was warm on La’tal’s face, and the winds at this height were strong, catching both elves’ robes. Each elf was tall, and very slender, their skin looked much like polished, white gold, and their hair matched, glittering in the light. Each wore dark purple robes, trimmed with silver, each shoulder held the same insignia as the banners above. Both had long, slender faces, very high cheekbones, and short, sloped noses. All this to say, an outsider wouldn’t be able to find a single difference between the men, with the exception of the eyes, La’tal having piercing yellow pupils, whereas La’vaa’s were a pale blue.

“What do you need, father.” La’tal fought to let the question out with as little hate as possible.

“What do you see? When you look out towards the horizon.” La’vaa seemed unphased by the tone.

La’tal looked out from the balcony, studying the landscape in front of him. He saw how the city around the royal tower shined in the light of the setting sun, angled to reflect inward, glorifying the tower, just as the pure Eshen population within was meant to glorify House Velth. Past that he saw the farmlands, circling the cities outer wall, owned by some of the weaker houses in the kingdom, once worked by the indentured half breed Consa, now worked by full blooded Eshen for pay. Further out, he saw the vast ocean that separated the Eshen of Outrus from the other sapient peoples on the continent. The Eshen were blessed with health and long lives by Lesharr, so the priests say, living nearly ten times as long as the lesser beings, who weren’t so favored by their gods, dying before the first century of their lives ends.

“All that matters, I suppose.” La’tal answered finally.

La’vaa nodded, “I had hoped that what you would say.” La’vaa turned to look his son in the eyes. “Do you still feel the pull, son?”

The Pull, The Thrum, The Resonance. A gift La’tal’s paternal line has had since anyone could recall. The worthless Kings who came before did nothing with this gift, simply using it as a compass, guiding them towards the actions that should be taken. La’tal however would often experiment. He learned as a youth that he could externalize the gift, manipulating small objects at first, then larger objects, then animals. Eventually even some Consa, one notable example in his mind was when he first found he was able to crush a ribcage with no effort. Fifteen some years ago, La’tal visited the Dara-Vai islands in the south, he was given a tour by a young human named Imgan, apparently a diplomat. Here, La’tal learned how these Dara-Vai used the gift, which they called The Resonance. They trained their warriors in its use, uniquely, the were able to manifest weapons through a focus, the weapons looked as though the were made of glass, and you could never really focus your eyes on them. Imgan told La’tal he was working on manifesting a weapon without a focus, made purely from emotion, which La’tal found very interesting.

“Obviously father, don’t you?” La’tal smirked, knowing the answer.

“No… my connection has seemingly been fading for months, and in recent days it has fully left me.” La’vaa looked down. “This has never happened to us before.”

La’vaa was right, it hadn’t, it was only happening now because La’tal had learned how to consume the very essence of The Resonance. He had been slowly eating his father’s connection to the gift and was now out of his supply. In the months since starting, La’tal began to experiment with other uses of The Resonance, now able to manifest it elementally, starting fires and arching lightning between his hands. He was happy to see his father finally noticed.

“Well, father, I had hoped you would say that.”

La’vaa looked up, face twisted into a mask of confusion, and opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but nothing came out. La’tal clenched his fist as if he had gathered a collar into it, and began to raise his arm, La’vaa rising in parallel. He began to scrape feebly at his throat, attempting to remove a noose that wasn’t there. La’tal was keeping just enough pressure to drag out the process, and he began tilting his hide side to side, examining his father, La’vaa began to kick out at La’tal, trying to do anything to end the pain. La’tal laughed, and as he did bright electric arcs leapt from his finger tips into La’vaa, causing him to spasm. La’tal laughed harder, each time a new arc would leap out and smash into La’vaa, at the very height of his sadistic glee, the lightning turned a blood red, latching on to one of La’vaa’s arms and incinerating it in an instant. La’tal dropped his father in shock, La’vaa fell limply, then laid still.