the-scriptcaster

[the-scriptcaster]

The Story Ark, Ep. 3: Revolution

Sorry for the long break! Had trouble with inspiration :’0

“It is simply far too easy to manipulate these mindless masses.”

“You are telling me, all I have done was let slip a little ‘secret’ about you-know-who colluding with the wrong people and my campaign practically ran itself!”

“Now all we have to do is convince them that we deserve tax relief for all that ‘hard work we are doing for this city’ and we will be sitting pretty.”

“That is, until we are voted off the council….”

Ark leaned against the wide mahogany doors as he listened to the room within burst into laughter. He grinned. Just when you’d think you are safe… He shook his head and stepped away from the door, turning towards it. Standing at the ready, he knocked the heel of his boot rhythmically into the ground until the etchings hidden faintly on the dark leather began to glow bright red.

Amongst the circle of portly politicians, the laughter has yet to cease. Tears rolled down their faces, dampening their perfectly curled moustaches. The jokes shared amongst themselves were at the expense of others, and that made it all the more satisfying for Ark to blast down the doors with a single swift kick. The splintering of wood turned the red faces of laughter into red faces of fury as the circle stood from behind their podiums to reprimand the one who dare intruded on their private meeting.

Sweaty faces could not make out the sharp silhouette of the culprit against the bright hall light beyond the doorway. One shaky voice managed to call out in mock authority, “Hark, whoever you are, you shall indeed be punished post-haste for this unprecedented intrusion on political grounds! It is our right to convene here without interruption and you shall be jailed for forgoing that right, or worse, fined!”

“That will not be necessary gentlemen, as I have a far more fitting punishment for one who dares step on something as serious as another man’s rights,” Ark said as he stepped lightly over the splintered wood littering the way to the center of the congressional hall. The dim light closed in around him as he reached the edge of the circle where squinting eyes could now barely make out the form.

“I dare say– Ark Tyrian? I do hope you realize that this breach of law will not net you any gain. Your grant application has been denied, and I do think you shall be even worse off now that you shall be paying for the damage done to our building, let alone any fines we shall place on you at our own discretion,” a politician remarked, leading the group into a cacophony of nods and affirmations.

“Fines? I do hope you mean like the fines you personally collect, Emerson Daly, was it? I think one might call that ‘embezzling funds’ but who am I to say, I am just a simple scientist.”

At mention of his name, he flicked his eyes back and forth at the others. All eyes locked with his before turning in unison back towards the accuser.

“Or you, Sigurd Helmsbrook– or was it Helmsbrand? Hecklesberry? My my, you all have such terribly formal and long winded names that I can hardly keep track, but last I heard was that you were sleeping with the mayor’s wife! The lengths one will go through to gain power, it is simply disgusting.”

Sigurd stood at this claim, enraged. “Indeed, who are you to say anything at all, Mr. Tyrian,” he shouted through spittle and sweat. Others in the circle began reaching up to ropes hanging from the ceiling. “First you somehow manage to evade our guards and break into government property, and next you destroy said property, and now you dare slander us at our own council? I dare say, my compatriots seem to agree on your fate, Ark Tyrian.”

Ark let another smirk loose. “That will not be necessary,” he said, producing a small disk contraption from his jacket. With a swift wind up, he tossed the device into the center of the circle, and with a jolt of purple electricity, it slammed to the ground as if gravity weighed it down hard.

That is exactly as it has done, for upon activation it began generating a limited gravitational field that was nearly triple the strength than what was natural. Congressmen all sank back into their chairs, arms weighed down onto their armrests before a single one of them could pulled down their ropes.

Ark, however, moved freely in the field, in fact, he seemed even lighter on his feet than before. He sprung forward towards one named Bruno Maximilian directly across from him. Ark seemed to float down into a deep lean against his podium as he watched him struggle to move out of his seat at all.

He rest his head in his arms and said, “Mr. Maximilian, usually gerrymandering would be cause of such an easy council seat for someone such as yourself, but fraudulent votes on top of that? A bit unnecessary.”

Tears were practically pulled from his eyes when he asked, “What will you do, kill us?”

Ark pulled back and laughed, nearly toppling over with a hand covering his forehead.

“Kill you? Good gracious, no, I am not one to do something like that and after all, if you were dead where would this city be in terms of leadership, legislature, or even just people to look up to?” Ark pulled himself together and reached over the podium to press a button on a console.

The room shuddered as the ceiling split in two. Light poured into the dark council hall through the tiny sliver. The light grew brighter and brighter as the two pieces pulled away from each other acting as a sort of hangar door above them. Then the ground creaked to life as it began to spiral upwards along tracks now illuminated by the light of the daylight above them. Slowly the platform rose to the top, locking into place in the center of the city, just before the government plaza behind it’s thick intimidating walls.

The politicians will soon pay the price for their hubris in making a “private hall” that can be converted into a public debate space. It was their own fault for relishing in the public attention, and now surrounding the outdoor platform was the public. Every man, woman, and child gathered around the corrupt few who have claimed to be representing the people’s rights, just as Ark had planned. The gravitational field still held but Emerson managed to pull himself up in his cushioned leather seat.

“Is this all your plan? To expose some ‘secrets’ you have of us, with no proof?”

Ark ignored the questioning of the council and turned towards the crowds surround him.

“Greetings, people of the great City of Kings! I am Ark Tyrian, a proud scientist and mage who has come to free you of the clutches of such corruption dictating your lives, while they sit free of all rules and regulations. You have heard my call and gathered together here, which I do greatly appreciate, and while I am sure some of you already have your doubts and disliking of these poor old men surrounding me, I think it is best to hear some of the disgusting things they have done from the doers themselves.”

Some of the council members broke into a fit of laughter. “And how will you manage that, Mr. Tyrian?”

Ark finally decided to face his adversaries. “You may remember how I called myself a mage, yes?” Ark began, “Well, some magicks are finicky in the way they way work, especially when used on the human mind. Unfortunately for me, the sort of truth spell I wish to put you fellows under is incredibly difficult, requiring many years of research on the human brain, as well as extensive knowledge of illusionary magicks as well as adept skill in control magicks.”

Ark snapped his fingers together and a light haze passed through the minds of the councilmen.

“Unfortunately for you, I have done a lot of practice.”

Ark approached each of the podiums they sat behind and switched on the microphones connected to speakers throughout the city for large scale announcements or public debates. He turned with a final wink to the circle before letting the spell to kick in and the true secrets to be exposed by the ones who spent their lives keeping them.

Voices were heard over the loud speakers that were soon drowned out by the angry mob forming around Ark as he waltzed through the crowds out of the city.

“It could have been so simple,” Ark mused aloud, hearing the shouts over the city walls as he mounted his horse to head home. “My application was pristine, but that denial led to the dismantling of a corrupt political structure. What a shame.”

[the-scriptcaster]

The Sharpest Blade

In the deepest darkness beneath our glorious and gracious king, we sit alone waiting for liberation and retribution. Water drips in cold places and tries to dampen our spirits along with what’s left of our shirts. Nothing comes out of this darkness.

Two cells sit across from each other, almost built just for the likes of us. One for each, and now we spend our days staring and waiting and sleeping and starving. We sit in silence but we have the most tense debates with our eyes and magnificent stories to share with the subtleties of our lips. We sit together in this dark silence but the light between us let’s us roam the halls we used to work and clean and serve and sweep.

The monotony of our life was broken by the conversation of love, the looks we give and the language we craft from our hands and feet in motion. We no longer move, energy between us lost but our purpose lives on. True to our cause and who we are, we remain.

Guards, incomplete and without purpose, waltz in like they own the place themselves, but leave unnerved by smiles shared in silence between us. The king himself still finds his nights full of wonder and fear at words not spoken, fear of the two that nearly toppled his regency. He is not our king. He will not silence us.

We fought and killed and hid and struck, yet once our people collapsed at the weight of the war, the so-called king stepped forth and did what he deemed fit for two lovers. Take us but leave pieces behind, tongues stolen to forfeit our love. Tongues that could rally the people again, tongues that could charm the hearts of men and women, tongues that craft words to bind us together.

We don’t need tongues.

[the-scriptcaster]

The Story Ark, Ep. 2: Field Tests

“Are you sure we should be this close?”

“It is 100% fine, just do not move any closer is all.”

“And what would happen if I did?”

“Oh, most certain death due to the matter of your very form being torn into several million microscopic pieces, all while your soul is physically separated from your body and absorbed into that growing mass of pure energy.”

“How lovely.”

~~~~~

Ark and Cherry crouched just behind a grassy hill in the middle of the open field just beyond the forest Cherry has made home. The fields themselves were quite peaceful, with lush green grass covering every hill the eye can see, each speckled with all manner of pink, white, blue, and yellow flowers. It is a serene place, save for the microscopic black hole that has been slowly eating away the land around it, creating quite the crater.

“Well, better now than never,” Ark said, too calm, as he vaulted over the crest of the hill and slid down the smooth grass.

Cherry shook her head. “Don’t enjoy yourself too much down there,” she called from the safety of the hill.

Reaching the bottom, Ark pulled out his trust wyrmwood wand. As sleek and modern as his apparel, one could hardly tell it’d be used for anything to do with magic.

He lifted a foot and gave the wand a wave over each of his boots. Lights shone from the wands end and the boots glowed similarly as streaks of green lit up against the dark brown of the leather. As the boots met the ground again, a faint hum whirred to life.

Ark stood at the threshold of the energy siphon pull. He put the wand away and pulled out an empty glass jar. Sweat beaded up on his forehead as he took a small step forward. The hum of his boots grew louder as it met the ground. Ark felt the gentle tug of siphon on his clothing.

So far, so good. He took a second step towards the pinprick in space and the tug became a firm pull. It was as if a vacuum was sucking everything from his hair to his coattails in. One misstep and he could lose his footing and it’ll be the end of him.

~~~~~

Ark had been eager to test out his latest success, an enchantment he successfully placed on his boots. It was an obscure mix of earth and air magic, something he could spend hours upon hours talking about with excitement. He enjoyed the nuances of his work, and the mixture of magic types was one such topic that fascinated him.

But as he approached the siphon, the stress test on his boots proved too much for the enchantment. The energy put into the enchantment was being stripped away as he got nearer and nearer. Ark noticed this, and attempted to stand his ground.

“How very interesting. It seems this energy siphon quite easily feeds off of magical energy in the air around it,” he mused out loud. “It seems that the purer the form of energy it is able to consume causes it to—”.

His train of thought is interrupted as the force pulling him doubles its strength and he begins to slide across the dirt. As the green glow and the loud hum started to fade, Ark found he has much less traction. Stepping backwards in hopes of being able to break the pull, he turns to look towards Cherry who is still perched high above him, barely peeking over the hill’s peak.

“Doin’ alright down there?” she called down to him.

“Yeah definitely! You know, just... making my assessments of the situation!”

Cherry was unconvinced but continued to watch the mess of these tests of his. Ark brought his attention back to the energy siphon, who has absorbed nearly all the magical energy stored in his boots’ enchantment. He was going to need to think fast, as the moment the enchantment gives way, he will be dead.

Ark snapped his fingers as an idea popped into his head. Taking a wide stance he readied the jar in one hand and the lid in the other, poised as if he were ready to catch a nearby fly. He stood waiting, standing ready, and the moment that green glow of his enchantment faded out, he was lifted off the ground and straight towards the siphon.

After an audible yelp from behind him and a loud snap, Ark opened his shut eyes to find himself lying on the ground. A thick stalk, topped with a lovely sunflower was wrapped around his ankle. In his hands held his jar, now closed, around the energy siphon. A metallic sheen shimmered across its surface as tiny inscribed runes held the power of the siphon at bay within the jar.

Ark started to laugh to himself when a hand met the back of his head, smacking his face back into the dirt.

“What on this green earth do you think you are doing?” Cherry said displeased.

Picking himself up from out of the dirt, he rolled onto his back, lifting the jar up for her to see.

“I got it!”

Cherry snatched the jar from his hands. “You could have killed yourself with that move there!” she said, waving the jar around.

“That’s why I brought you along,” he said with a cheeky grin.

She tossed the jar back to him in disgust. Ark panicked, catching the jar wide-eyed.

“Careful with that!”

Cherry shook her head, taking off her pointed hat to run her fingers through her auburn hair. “I don’t know why I go anywhere with you.” She waved her hand and the sunflower released its hold on Ark’s leg and straightened out, pointing its yellow face towards the sun.

Ark took her outstretched hand and hoisted himself off the ground, cradling the jarred siphon.

“What are you gonna do with that now?” Cherry asked.

“I am sure it will have its uses. It will most likely require a bit of studying however.”

“Business as usual for you then. Well come on then,” she said beckoning Ark along as she walked back towards her woodland tower. “Now that that’s sorted, let’s have our self a nice mug of tea, shall we? I just picked the herbs this morning.”

[the-scriptcaster]

Frozen Blood

My fingers trace against ridges and edges. Callused hands meet equally hardened flesh. One cannot feel more than an inch without reaching another scar on my body.

The cold winds blow on outside, but I don’t feel them anymore. In this ramshackle shack, most wouldn’t survive. For me, it is all I have left. I reach for my armor, with leather hard as my own skin. No use in armor here. There is nothing left to protect in the mountains. I wouldn’t be using it at all if it weren’t for tradition.

Tradition. There is that word again, the one that always lingers in the frost and clings to your tongue with each breath. Steps I take outside my home remind me of tradition as my feet meet buried homes beneath the snow. I was once told I must stay true to tradition. It was all we had. Some use tradition is when you are all that’s left.

My lineage has done me no favors, cursing me to this fate of endless nights alone in a field of white. Eternity passes as I wait for creatures that no longer exist to attack a place long extinct. Such is the way of my blood, which has ceased to flow when that devil of an ancestor traded his life for the protection of his people. Noble once, but a curse now. Poor old man didn’t know the cold would end up killing them faster than the beasts that once roamed the dark.

Yet, here I remain, bearing the scars of past deaths won in glorious fights with shadows of the night. Old warriors may have died but their legacy continues on when the next still-hearted child is found playing in the snow. Each with the old scars.

I found myself feeling at the memories of the past once again. Although I try to forget, I am fated to live that memory forever. The price we paid for safety binds me to the land I protect. My so-called life goes on until I lose it in victory or defeat.

The white of snow almost seems to yearn for the red stains it once held. Eager for the scars that never lasted. Always made clean by the next morning. I am stuck waiting with the lines on my body, drawn by the past.

[the-scriptcaster]

The Story Ark, Ep. 1: Savior

First story on this blog, enjoy!

The heat. I am burning alive. Ark breathed heavy through the thick dust, licking sweat as it rolled down his cheeks. It never ends. He reached down for the canteen secured at his waist. His hand touched rough leather, but found no canteen. Oh yeah. I don’t have a canteen.

Pulling his shirt-turned-scarf up over his nose, he dropped to his hands and knees, climbing slowly up the steep dune just before him. I’ll look for water. That’ll work, right? Wind made progress slow as sand blew into every crevice of his body. Reaching the top did nothing for his hope, as his vantage only revealed miles and miles of sand. Behind him was endless dust as well.

Ark fell onto his side in defeat. Gasping for air, he felt as though he were suffocating in the heat. His vision darkened. Dehydration was setting in. Maybe they would have water. He looked up at a tall figure, standing silhouetted against the yellow sky full of dust.

He blinked hard. Wait a second. Who on earth… Where did they come from? The figure’s long scarf blew in the wind. They raised their arms to their hips, and shook their head.

“W-water….”, Ark barely managed, arm outstretched to this figure, before collapsing into the sand.

~~~~~

Ark sat up suddenly from the bed, gasping for air. Drenched in sweat, he threw back his covers. A bad dream?

“No, not a bad dream, unfortunately.”

Ark tensed. He looked around but did not see where the voice came from. Whether or not it was a dream, he was still not in his own bed. The walls of the room he found himself in were mostly window. All that could be seen outside is clear blue sky.

The room was bare, lacking furniture, decoration, and most importantly the origin of the voice.

“You nearly died, you know?”, the voice echoed about the empty room. “Why would you walk out into a desert without water?”

Above me? He looked up and noticed a hole through the ceiling. Up there? He got up out of the bed, which was simply a large cushion atop a stand. Most of his clothing was stripped off him, but thankfully underwear was left where it was. His belongings were nowhere to be found.

He crept silently up to the hole, to catch a glimpse of what was above. It seemed this was the bottom floor of where ever he was, as he could see upwards through several holes before he saw ceiling again.

Suddenly a foot appeared over the hole, and a person dropped down from at least three floors up. Ark stumbled back just in time to avoid being crushed by a falling figure. They landed without a sound on both feet, with a large pot in one hand, and a bowl and spoon in the other. Their long green scarf wrapped around their neck fluttered down behind them.

“Hey, you should be in bed! You are weak still,” they said, pushing Ark back towards the bed, leaving the pots and bowls suspended in midair. Ark sunk back into the bed, with too many questions filling his mind.

“Slow down with the questions, I can’t answer so many at once!” They gasped though and with eyes widened, they bowed down before Ark. “Oh, I am so sorry about the mind reading, I was worried about your state and whether or not you were alive. I don’t usually use it if I don’t have to. Please forgive me!”

“Well, it’s okay, I guess,” Ark said in response.

“Oh thank goodness!” They said, jumping back upright and fetching the floating kitchen supplies. “I made you some soup, because I figured you’d be hungry after how I found you in. Like I said, you almost died.”

They began to prepare soup from the pot, when Ark finally managed to ask a single question.

“Um, who are you?”

The mysterious host paused. Their tanned skin seemed to turn white in embarrassment. “Oh good heavens, I completely forgot.”

They stepped away from the soup, leaving it suspended in midair once again, and turned to face Ark. They adjusted their glasses, and brushed off their most beige outfit.

"I am named many things. I was once Tenchiuxingusu. Then, Cygnatii. While there are many other names, you can just call me Benji. Some call me a god, others, a deity. I’d like you to just consider me a friend though.”

Ark furrowed his brow. “Surely, this is a dream.”

“Nope, one hundred percent real!” They turned back to continue the preparation of the soup.

“So I am being cared for by a god, named Benji?”

“Hey, I like that name! It’s simple and easy to remember, not like those other names people made up for me. Also I’m not a god, I am an ethereal being. I am immortal though,” they laughed to themselves. “All technicalities though. Here’s the soup!”

Ark took the bowl in his hands, but didn’t even look at it. “Where on earth am I though?”

Benji waved their hands and the pot floated back up the ceiling hole. “Like I said, you nearly died out in the desert. I was watching for a bit, but you travelled in circles. Once you collapsed, I knew I had to do something, so I brought you back to my house!” They smiled with their arms outstretched, showing off the entirety of their empty room.

“Thank you for that. I am truly grateful, but I have one thing to ask. I don’t even remember going out into the desert. I have no idea what happened, but I know I didn’t go out on my own accord. Especially how unprepared I was. I didn’t even have a canteen! So very unlike me, truly. Do you know what happened?”

Benji crossed their arms. They seemed deep in thought. They shook their head and sighed. “I wouldn’t know myself. You would, though, technically.”

“Technically?”, Ark asked, while sipping his soup. It was really good, and started drinking it heartily. Ark couldn’t even begin to describe its flavor, but it was easily the best soup he’s ever had.

Benji began pacing. “You see, I could look into your memories, but like I said, I don’t usually like using the mind reading. If it’s your desire, I can make an exception.”

~~~~~

The two knelt across from each other on two plain green pillows taken from the bed. Ark shifted uncomfortably but Benji was obviously a natural, and settled into a peaceful disposition. At least I’m clothed.

“Ah,” they sighed. “Now that we are ready, we shall begin.”

Ark adjusted his position, and with brows furrowed, he nodded in agreement. Benji returned a smile to him, and closed their eyes.

“Now, you are going to have to understand that I am reading your thoughts. I’ll do my best to keep what’s private, private, but I’m just saying that I could see something secret. The human mind is a weird place.”

Met with another nod from Ark, they continued, lifting both their arms up to either side of his face. Fingertips lightly brushed against Ark’s neck and chills went up his spine. Benji’s eyes were shut tight in concentration as their fingers traced along his skin.

To Ark’s surprise, Benji halted their tracings and pressed hard just below his jaw. Their eyes opened and instead of their kind eyes, bright light shone.

Gasping for air, Ark found himself standing in the middle of a forest. Or at least what he thinks is a forest. Shapes are blurred and constantly morphing, but it generally looked as if he were surrounded by trees. He looked down to feet that were carrying his body onwards through the forest. He seemed to be wearing exactly what he had on in the desert.

“This seems to be tied to what happened before you made it to the desert,” Benji’s voice emanated from somewhere unseen. “Unfortunately, like most memories are, you have to remember it from the beginning. It’ll all happen as it did, so just sit back and watch.”

Through the blurry woods, a different color appeared between the trees. Ark arrived to an outcropping of rocks, which had been adapted into a strange makeshift home. What seemed to be a wooden door was placed in the middle, and a large chimney puffed purple-tinted smoke.

Ark reached his knuckles up to knock on the door, but it swung open suddenly and out ran a short old woman.

She began to talk but words were muffled, incomprehensible. The scene began to blur further, the old woman blending with her rocky home.

The scene continued nonetheless, and Ark raised his hands up in defense. He pulled something from a backpack he must have had on, and shows it to the woman. Vague motions of anger and muffled voices grow more intense, when a bright yellow light shines beneath Ark’s feet.

All at once, he is falling through the air, and promptly lands in the hot sand of the desert.

~~~~~

“Sorry, memories can be a bit foggy. Looks like someone got mad at you though, possibly a witch? Awfully rude to send you to the desert.”

Ark swayed, dizzy from the whole experience.

“Yes, well, I do remember what happened now. Seems that that was just enough to jog my memory.”

He struggled to his feet, dizziness turning to nausea, but he stands resolute.

“It is such a silly dispute as well, for I had come to provide that very witch with some rare herbs and reagents from a far friendlier witch friend of mine. She claimed I brought her bad ingredients, and I turned her into the old hag she appeared to be. Of course that was not true, for even I had checked the ingredients before delivery.”

Benji, still kneeling, shook their head in disbelief. “Like I said, that’s awfully rude!” They levitated themselves back onto their feet. “Will you do something?”

Ark shrugged and walked over to the large window looking over the desert. Winds kicking up sand made it difficult to see the ground but the building was easily built a good thirty meters up the side of a cliff.

“There is no point in it now. The woman got her ‘revenge’ so to speak. It is a shame though, as she would most likely not trust me anymore.” He laughed to himself. “Who am I kidding? Like I care what some lonely witch does out in the woods. It is honestly her own fault for screwing up such a spell.”

Benji giggled to themselves, joining Ark at the window. They placed a hand on their shoulder.

“Lucky you met me then, because that revenge of hers could have been the end of you! Now why don’t you show me where you live and I can bring you back, safe and sound. That’s enough wandering around forests and deserts for you today!”

[the-scriptcaster]

Welcome!

Hey everyone, this is @thearkofaeons and this here is my writing blog! I will be filling this with all manner of writing I do, be it stories, experimental pieces or otherwise!

If you like anything or are interested in giving suggestions and ideas, feel free to leave an ask!

Thanks, friends!