A novel: The fate of destruction.

[Apollyon]

Here's a novel I'm writing and I'll post more here as I write it rather like paradise shattered (which by the way I shall still be continuing of course). As a not the title is nothing as shallow and violent as it seems. It's half of the phrase: The Fate of Destruction is the Joy of Rebirth."

**Chapter 1**

The great sun rolled like a boulder up the mountain of sky. Dawn was upon him, a new dawn. Hours ago he had watched his parents murdered, his home destroyed. All of his life gone in a single moment of pain and confusion. He had done the only thing he felt he could have done; He had fled. Over the hills and grassy meadows, across mountains and great plains, coming finally to this place. His flight had been instinctual and he knew now there had been no more purpose in it than to escape death, or perhaps more accurately, sorrow. He fell now to the hard, parched earth full of despair. There was no one left he might hail as "friend", and none that might greet him similarly. He had no home, no place, no goal. He wept.

 Eventually, after many hours, the one known as Jarred, still little more than a child, rose and brushed his hair to the sides of his face, out of his eyes and mouth. He was a handsome boy, with jet black hair and a tall wiry frame that contained deeo-rooted strength granted him by years of labour in the fields. He still had no idea what his path could lead him to, but it was enough to know that he must have a path, and so he set out on the long road to destiny.

 Jarred tried not to dwell on the deaths of his loved ones for they saddened him still, but he no longer felt the need to cry and continued along the road with little interruption. The birds sang to him and he wondered how anything in this world could still be joyful after the terrible things that had happened mere hours ago. The road snaked amongst the tall trees of a forest now, that reached up to kiss the sky with leafy arms in a never-ending embrace.

[Apollyon]

 It was late afternoon and the sun beat down on him from her celestial purchase above. The emotions invoked by the attack on his home had still far from subsided but he knew that he must consider his immediate future and well-being. A patch of tall trees a few metres ahead beckoned to him and it was here that Jarred sat down to make temporary shelter under the protective shade of a great oak. Tired from walking and traumatised by his recent experiences, Jarred fast fell into a deep sleep.

 The wind bit at him like an enraged wolf as he stood watching the scene play out before him. Tall men in black armour stalked all around him but they did not see the black-haired boy that watched them in trepidation. A group of them broke apart to reveal the object of their attention. There in a ring of blackened chainmail stood a man and a woman. The man had lank black hair that fell to his shoulders and his eyes glittered brightly, not with fear but with what Jarred fancied looked more like triumph. The woman too did not appear anxious, with dark brown hair cascading down her shoulders to settle at her waste like a straight, dark waterfall. They stood defiantly like the sun before she is snuffed out at last by night.

 Finally an armoured soldier seperated himself from the group and walked closer to the pair. He was covered entirely in black armour but this was not the same chainmail that enrobed the other pillagers. The armour that clothed him was some how blacker with sharp horn-like projections scattered across its surface and, stranger still, the armour seemed to have no seams and it clung to the man like a parasite to its host.

[Apollyon]

Flames licked at the surrounding houses and played on the armoured mans' eyes casting an eerie glow on an already unsettling scene. It was only these eyes that could be seen under the mask of darkness that grasped his face. But those eyes were terrible. Cold and calculating, the eyes of, not a murderer, but of a ruthless killer to whom the subtle act of murder could not ever apply.

[Apollyon]

 He emitted a contemplative sigh as he considered his dream. It had seemed very real and it wouldn't be the first time he had received such vivid dreams. Regardless, his aim must remain the same; To reach a nearby town and spread news of the tragedy that had taken place. He owed the villagepeople, his friends and family, that much. So he set off again at a fast pace, not once stopping to rest. At length, however, Growls alerted Jarred's senses to his hunger and he knew that he must eat soon. Fortunately he was a skilled hunter and fast found a source of food. He sheathed his knife again and set about roasting the small rodent-like Hwatha that he had captured with his bare hands. It was a meagre meal but all he required to keep him on his path. As he ate he could not help but shudder as he thought back to that scene and the cold stare of that dark figure.

[Apollyon]

The flames from the fire twisted up like great vines towards the emerald green canopy above him, slowly turning from deep red to orange and then finally to the grey of smoke. A soft breeze caressed his cheek, just like his mother used to. He sighed again, not permitting the sadness to overcome him. He must be strong, there would come a time later for grieving. He lay for a bit, watching the embers of the fire glow like tiny bright eyes. With this last thought in his head, he drifted off into a restless sleep. Several hours later Jarred awoke, cursing himself for falling asleep so easily. He made to get up but was shocked into immobility when he caught sight of the tall man hunched over just a few metres away. He wore a long grey smock, tied shabbily at his waist with a piece of rope.The smock was torn and charred in places, evidence of recent hardships. At his hip hung a long sword in a scabbard bejewelled with red stones. The man stared at the now fully awake Jarred with piercing grey-blue eyes.

[Apollyon]

"Jaxe!" Jarred cried in obvious affection and at the same time relief. "Jaxe, you're alive! Those men who attacked our village are looking for you. Don't worry, though. If anyone tries to harm you I'll stop them!"

 Jaxe merely smiled in response and gave a nod of agreement and gratitude. There was a glint in his eye, almost a tear. "We'd best be goin' then, lad. Don't want no one to be seein' where it is we be goin' now do we?" Jarred nodded enthusiastically and off they set through the thick forest, the hot sun now slowly giving way to the blanketting darkness of night. As they walked, Jarred made a point of looking every which way in search of any danger that might threaten the great man placed under his protection. Jaxe just looked on at his companion in sad amusement.

 As they walked through the vast green-brown pin-cushion of trees the dark threatened to swallow them. It quickly became impossible to see and their progress slowed to a crawl. "Ack, it's no good, we need some light." And with that Jaxe pulled a lantern from the pack he wore across his shoulders and lit it with a minor incantation. The lantern's glow cast eerie shadows where there had only been darkness before. Without another word they continued on, but both knew that it was only a matter of time until their pursuer saw the beacon of light amongst the trees and they hurried all the more because of it.

[Apollyon]

 "Flowing now the blood to the head, a thousand demons on your brain they tread," A sing-song voice called, even beckoned quietly from the path behind them. "Crushing, crawling, your hopes and desires, cast into nothing by stygian fires." The voice forcefully penetrated into Jarred's mind, his very soul. It seemed to stifle his very brain in a way that was almost physically painful. He gasped and found he could no longer find the strength to move his legs.

 Jaxe heard it too now and stopped of his own volition to draw his sword in a flurry of defiance. His eyes narrowed towards the place from which the strange song issued."Run, Jarred, and don't stop to look behind you." But Jarred was far from a state in which he could run, his mind was already fleeing from that voice, that terrible song. "Wake up and run!" Jaxe shouted, turning to slap Jarred about the face. Jarred stumbled backward, only just maintaing balance from the man's powerful strike. He blinked in sudden recognition, as if awakening from a long dream. "Run!" Jaxe cried again in an almost desperately pleading voice.

 "But... I thought... I was meant-"

 "Run! Now!"

 And without any more protestation he turned and fled as fast as his numb legs would take him. He was a strong runner and was fit from an active and labour-filled life, and the gasps that wracked his lean body were far from signs of physical exertion. That song had done something to his mind, to his body and to his soul. He felt as if his blood had turned to molten lead and was even now coursing through his body burning at his insides. Despite the pain he ran on, he must run on for the sake of his life and for the sake of the memory of his friends and family. And even though the pain was great and his pace was ever-slowing, the sense of despair and futility only fully hit him when he heard the terrible scream that pierced the landscape-blanketting darkness behind him. With that scream he knew that Jaxe was dead. Or worse than dead. Now sobs caught in his throat as well as gasps of pain.

 "The pain the plight and futile flight. So weary now even at your best, so why not stop a while and lay to rest?" The song again, closer than even before, and he had a feeling that just beyond his field of night vision, a man was running alongside him in the dark. Jarred was weary and filled with a deep longing just to stop, to give up. No more fighting, no more hurt, nothing. He could sleep at last.

 "No!" And Jarred cried out with all the anger, all the defiance that he could muster in his tired frame. He set off running again, speeding up until he was sure his bones would crack and crumble. He heard a sigh to his left, and turned just in time to see a dark figure lash out at his knee-cap with inhuman speed and accuracy. The kick connected with ease and he felt the bone shatter. He cried out and fell, tumbling over and over until stopping violently on impact with a tree trunk just ahead. He moaned and gasped softly as his pursuer inexorably closed in on him.

[Apollyon]

Jarred couldn't have moved had he wanted to. His body was frozen in place as if turned to stone under the weight of the pursuer's gaze. And gaze he did, with blue and red domino eyes, one slightly larger than the other. Gradis's gaze lacked the chilling terror inflicted by the black armoured killer he might hail as leader, yet they were cold and calculating, sizing up every possibility before them.

 "Ahh, young enigma. I wonder of the path things might have taken had you been born to our side instead." He paused and looked around anxiously as if he had heard someone approaching before turning back again to the terrified boy."But it's too late for that, much too late." He smiled and slowly slid a small dagger from its scabbard at his waist. The motion made a hissing sound like a serpent as the metal of the blade dragged across the material sheathing it until it was pulled entirely free. Gradis held the dagger with point towards Jassard so that the black haired child could see that the point was already smeared with blood. "Time to join your friend over there," he said pointing behind him to where Jassard assumed Jaxe was lying in a pool of his own blood. He felt sick and frightened right down to his soul.

 Gradis got up from his crouching position face to face with the boy and with him pulled Jassard to his feet. Jassard was in no state to try and stand and fell backwards to be held up by the trunk of the great oak he had struck his head upon when he had fallen earlier. Without another thing said Gradis took the dagger and plunged it straight toward the child's heart. Jassard watched as the blade approached his core in slow motion. The light that shone off the blade as it sliced through the air before him, the ringing in his ears and the thumping of blood in his head. And then suddenly, it stopped. Gradis stared incredulously at his own hand, the one holding the dagger. Stared as the hand opened completely of its own accord and stared as the blade dropped to the ground only to rise again as if propelled by some invisible force. Jassard's would-be killer turned to reveal a tiny man hiding behind Gradis's large frame and camouflaged by the trees and the darkness. A long beard was just about the only clear feature of the man, primarily because the same beard covered up a good deal the man's face, torso and legs and also due to the still thick blackness of night. Gradis gave a small gasp as his own knife turned on him and pierced his jugular. He gurgled incomprehensibly as blood flowed down his whole body in torrents until he fell to the ground, dead.

[Dunenewt]

Sounds good so far keep the violence coming :D

Any other comments?

[Apollyon]

Just thought I'd say that I haven't abandoned this project and do plan to update it soon. :)