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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Pain / Problems / Adversity
- Published: 03/29/2020
A Dual Edged Sword
Born 1976, M, from Whitechapel, Australia"My story’s not one of slaying beasts to the sound of thundering applause. Maidens do not sigh when I walk past nor do bards weave tales of my bravery. I’ve been working for the Brethren of the Blade for many summers. I take the contracts they issue for reward of coin but the weight of my purse echoes that of my soul. I’ve been the benefactor of the guilty, all the while saturated by the blood of innocents. I would pray for my own death save for one thing: it would mean the end for my wife and child.
“You’ve come here seeking entry to a clandestine world of clashing steel, drawn bows, and poison-tipped treachery. You seek excitement and travel to the far corners. Perhaps you come to prove yourself and stretch your abilities to their limit. For you it will be as the stretching of a knave on the rack: he hears his joints pop and his sinews tear but they won’t stop until he is divided up like a suckling pig.
“I have seen things and they haunt me at sleep and in my waking hours. I’ve seen a horde of dead children, roaming the night like rodents in search of meat. The poor sods hailed by way of necromancy, used to punish, terrify and fulfil the vices of twisted creatures unfamiliar with the light.
“I have murdered wyverns—creatures that posed no threat other than that concocted in the minds of the panicked. Have you seen the profound sadness in a beast’s eyes just prior to that final death-stroke? Did you know that a dying wyvern secretes an infusion that can heal the most virulent wound in a man’s flesh? The great lizard I’d slaughtered saved my life in return.”
“Why do it then? I was told you would initiate me—not try to talk me out of joining the Brethren.” The younger man drained the last of his ale and looked about the bustling inn with contempt.
“For that, I will need another ale. Make it two... And something stronger for later on.” The mercenary wiped foam from his beard and fingered a thick scar on the back of his sword hand. He stared into the hearth and spoke to the dancing flames long after the boy had left for the bar. “Why do it? They have my family, you impudent wretch. Tonight, with this final act, I free them. You are as the payment of ransom. You only need stay long enough for the brothers to abscond with your own family.” The warrior looked over his shoulder cautiously. “As I am released you are plunged into a world of blood and pain and torment.”
The boy returned brandishing two fresh horns of amber fluid and a bottle of rum. “What were you saying just then? About torment?”
“Torment? You’ll have time to learn all about that yourself. Your life is about to change.”
“You’re sounding more positive already. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now let’s talk about where we go from here.”
“We? No, you’ll be walking this path alone. It will be the most alone you’ve ever felt. Now, drink.”
A Dual Edged Sword(Jason James Parker)
"My story’s not one of slaying beasts to the sound of thundering applause. Maidens do not sigh when I walk past nor do bards weave tales of my bravery. I’ve been working for the Brethren of the Blade for many summers. I take the contracts they issue for reward of coin but the weight of my purse echoes that of my soul. I’ve been the benefactor of the guilty, all the while saturated by the blood of innocents. I would pray for my own death save for one thing: it would mean the end for my wife and child.
“You’ve come here seeking entry to a clandestine world of clashing steel, drawn bows, and poison-tipped treachery. You seek excitement and travel to the far corners. Perhaps you come to prove yourself and stretch your abilities to their limit. For you it will be as the stretching of a knave on the rack: he hears his joints pop and his sinews tear but they won’t stop until he is divided up like a suckling pig.
“I have seen things and they haunt me at sleep and in my waking hours. I’ve seen a horde of dead children, roaming the night like rodents in search of meat. The poor sods hailed by way of necromancy, used to punish, terrify and fulfil the vices of twisted creatures unfamiliar with the light.
“I have murdered wyverns—creatures that posed no threat other than that concocted in the minds of the panicked. Have you seen the profound sadness in a beast’s eyes just prior to that final death-stroke? Did you know that a dying wyvern secretes an infusion that can heal the most virulent wound in a man’s flesh? The great lizard I’d slaughtered saved my life in return.”
“Why do it then? I was told you would initiate me—not try to talk me out of joining the Brethren.” The younger man drained the last of his ale and looked about the bustling inn with contempt.
“For that, I will need another ale. Make it two... And something stronger for later on.” The mercenary wiped foam from his beard and fingered a thick scar on the back of his sword hand. He stared into the hearth and spoke to the dancing flames long after the boy had left for the bar. “Why do it? They have my family, you impudent wretch. Tonight, with this final act, I free them. You are as the payment of ransom. You only need stay long enough for the brothers to abscond with your own family.” The warrior looked over his shoulder cautiously. “As I am released you are plunged into a world of blood and pain and torment.”
The boy returned brandishing two fresh horns of amber fluid and a bottle of rum. “What were you saying just then? About torment?”
“Torment? You’ll have time to learn all about that yourself. Your life is about to change.”
“You’re sounding more positive already. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Now let’s talk about where we go from here.”
“We? No, you’ll be walking this path alone. It will be the most alone you’ve ever felt. Now, drink.”
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JD
10/25/2020I guess the life of a sword for hire is not all it is cracked up to be.... but don't bother to talk someone who wishes to live such a life out of it, because only their own experience will teach them the truth of it....
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Jason James Parker
10/26/2020You've perfectly articulated the essence of it. I need you to teach me how to write a proper book blurb, Jd! I get too verbose when I have to write a summation. : )
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Jane Lockyer Willis
03/30/2020Jason.
I think this story has a Faustian feel about it. A moving, bleak tale. The impact is immediate with economy of words, and graphic description. As a writer you strongly identity with sorrow. The Wyverns 'profound sadness in the beast's eyes' - brought tears to mine. Jane
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Jason James Parker
03/30/2020Thank you, Jane; any comparison to Faust is very flattering. You've certainly picked up on my intended style. I connect with sorrow most of all; I hadn't really thought about it until now (that's why this forum is so valuable). I'm glad that wyvern line was effective (I felt a weight in my chest writing it). Thank you for reading and for your incisive, sensitive and unique viewpoint. : )
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Aziz
03/30/2020An interesting piece of work Jason. Many strong words. Each one needs a deep reflection, how about the weight of the paradigms you shape. You always choose another side different from what the reader may expect.
I do like this sentence:
"you’ll be walking this path alone. It will be the most alone you’ve ever felt. "
Alone it needs some discussion with our friends.
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Jason James Parker
03/30/2020Thank you, Aziz; I select each word carefully, so I'm very happy that you've picked up on it. It's always my wish that each line feels as though there is much more meaning (and more story) to be found beneath the surface. As always, I love the way you think (alone is certainly a word and/or idea that has a life of its own). I hoped that the line you've cited would be the one that underlined the whole piece, so I'm happy you've singled it out. Thank you for your philosophical take and for your very encouraging comments. : )
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