Molepire: The Serpent's Silver Tongue

Prologue - [0]

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The trees clawed at my large windows, begging for an open crevice or gap. Autumn was possibly the worst season, with all the shitty holidays and stupid temperamental weather changes. I prefered winter, albeit Elskanei rarely got white winters. The neighbouring kingdoms, Aurelius and Wintersburg saw more snow in a few weeks than my entire country would see in two years.

The thundering of footsteps down the hall startled me as I awoke, panting. I looked towards the locked door, desperation clawing at my hoarse cry. I tugged the linen off my bed as I stumbled towards it, pounding at the spruce planks. Hushed whispers were exchanged quickly; footsteps stopped as my heart climbed into my throat, though dismay quickly sunk in as the footsteps hurried off, the clanking of guards outside my room startling me. My body slumped forward, my shoulders shook with every sob as I continued to pound against the door, crying out pleas and begs. Tears blurred my eyesight as I tugged at my hair, strands of blond locks falling to the stone floors. The rain pattered against my window as I stood up. My arms ached with evert movement, my eyes pleaded for the sleep my body desperately needed but I pushed it off.

The vast room echoed every wail; the echoes mocked and jeered at me, taunting my inability to escape the prison many would call a home. This was all his fault, if he hadn't left, everything would be fine. He got his happy ending but where was mine? I glanced at the clock, attempting to calm my ragged breathes. My hands shook as I marched over to the glass panes. I held the lock in my palm, the copper and gold engravings of Elskanei contrasting the dimly lit chamber. I tried to remind myself that this as for my own safety, so that I wouldn't do what he did, but this hardly seemed fair anymore. The one-sided fight for attention still raged on even after the winner had left; butlers and maids would pile trays of food near my workbench, as I tinkered away with small contraptions. My heart sunk as my eyes darted towards the box of abandoned projects.

I sighed, deftly tucking my shirt in as I wiped away my tears. I let out a wet snort of laughter, shaking my head as I sat down in my chair. It creaked under my weight - mangrove wood was famously known for its crappy durability, many boats and wagons were abandoned outside the castle walls. The moonlight shone onto the stone tiled floors, the slow drip of water into a bucket counting invisible seconds to the sudden change in my future.

'Might as well make use of the time,' I thought, reaching for my leather safety goggles. I flicked the luminous light, my knick-knacks and past sentiments line the walls as life stuttered into the tense room. The clinking of armour had stopped, the noise no longer rattling in my skull. It was quiet, the buzzing noise of the lights was soothing to say the least. I felt my damp cheeks dry with forgotten tears, I sipped some cold coffee from the mug next to me.

I inspected the small spyglass in my palm, smiling to myself; I'd been working on this for a while, and despite my mother's protests, this was my personal project. My other inventions would be sold at Elskanei's monthly market, where travellers and inventors - like me! - would boast and show off their creations. It wasn't uncommon for hunters to be seen, the glazed wings of Faeries and hearts wrenched from the chests of Nymphs lined their shelves, auctioning these twisted trophies to the highest bidder. Elskanei was infamous for goods, legal and illegal; I often chuckled at small children running around with shot glasses full of vodka - you couldn't blame me, the drunk giggles of the infants as their parents chastised them was endearing to say the least. I tossed the telescope onto my iron desktop, sighing as I stretched.

An unknown breeze danced up my sleeve as I turned to face an opened window. The ornate edges were lined with precious sandstone pillars, the dull cobblestone stuttering to life with the intricate greens of vines and lichen. Wait, hold on. I whipped my head back into focus as my jaw dropped.

What?!

I jumped up, pulling on my muddy trench coat as I fumbled with the clasps on my boots. I stumbled as I tapped the glass doors - they swung open onto the sandstone and birch balcony. I was baffled, these were locked! Locked! I picked up the obsolete lock, peering out onto the balcony. No-one was here, and from the looks of it, no-one had even been here. The only thing I could see was the snubbed out butts of my mother's cigarettes and the empty glasses of Dragon's Breath. 'OK, focus Ali,' I told myself as I tied my hair up into a small bun; the cold wind of September brushed against my shaved undercut. I looked over the edge, trying to calculate how far down the leaf-covered grass was. I turned back towards my room as my head spun with possibilities.

This was my chance! Ha! Guess it is time for my happy ending.

A wave of paranoia smacked me up the back of my head as I tried to think of a rational explanantion. I grabbed a rucksack, throwing in my necessities: food, clothes, torches, a handful of iron and copper, and my spyglass, which was hastily stuffed into my pocket. I stopped for a moment, giving the doubt that had been lurking in my stomach a chance to start stabbing guilty accusations into me. They churned and gurgled in my stomach, as unease welcomed itself like an unwanted family member.

What about mum and dad?

You can't leave, where will you go?

You aren't ready for out there!

Stop copying what he did! You are a Viator, not a filthy Volucris!?

I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, trying to ease my trembling hands. I inhaled, before reaching for some paper. I turned, once again, throwing my palms down flat as I pulled myself upon to the ledge, throwing down a slow stream of water from my bucket. I turned my back towards the forests that stretched for miles, looking back on every memory I'd spent here. I had yearned for this moment for months, a growing pull in my stomach and chest had always been tugging me towards this edge but now I was here, I was... panicking? No, that couldn't be right. Alistair Viator, the golden boy of Elskanei, afraid of change?! Gods, I was being pathetic. I shook my head, before leaning off the edge.

The cold winds hit me across the face as I swooped towards the grass, landing in a pile of limbs. Pain blossomed throughout my quivering bones, the nippy temperatures of Elskanei rattling me. "Motherfucker," I muttered, pulling myself up. I froze as realisation hit me like a wall of concrete. I did it! I laughed to myself quietly, not wanting to disturb any sleeping residents. The rising sun cast looming shadows across the path, gravel and stone which intertwined with mossy grass and cobblestone. Red and tranquil oranges painted the skies as I brushed off my clothes, still chuckling. I reached for my spyglass, pulling back a hidden compartment to reveal a small compass. The tempered dials whistled as they flew in multiple directions, eager to point me in the correct direction of something. But, I knew where I was going, I'd always known.

Eastern Mountains, here I come.

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Word Count: 1286