Molepire: The Serpent's Silver Tongue

Let the games begin - [1]

[1]

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Gods, my legs were sore. Of course, I'd left my walking crutch back in my damned bedroom, despite it being the one thing I needed! I tore off another piece of bread, chewing quietly as I glanced back down at the map. The bushes wavered with every small gust of wind and the trees creaked with age; my iron axe was practically begging to chop down the dark oak planks, but I decided against it. I put the bread back into my pocket, my fingers brushed against the bundle of torches. The path had ended as soon as I had entered the woods, multiple fences had been put it the soft mud that surrounded it but had been blown over with time. My small communicator had powered off a while ago, the battery slowly fading into a black screen; I'd also forgotten my charger, but that could be replaced, unlike my crutch. I sighed, groaning as I heard a familiar noise.

The navy blue poncho of a wandering trader swept in front of me, the trader himself sporting a huge smirk as his nose jutted out obnoxiously. His llamas sneered at me as they stomped past proudly, their silvery coats of wool shone with the sunlight. I didn't have many emeralds on me, I'd been lucky enough to stumble across a few in my brother's room.

"You! You look like someone who could do with a pick-me-up, yes it's clear now, so. Let's say 5 emeralds for a 2 litre bottle of Dragon's Breath ey?" He threw open his poncho, the trinkets inside jingling with his exaggerated dialogue. I went to shake my head, but stopped myself, thinking deeply for a moment. I was going to regret this. I swung my satchel round towards me, muttering swears as I tossed 5 emeralds to his leather clad feet, snatching the bottle before storming past him, embarrassment creeping onto my face in shades of pink and red. It didn't occur to me that he hadn't asked for any ID until I'd taken a sip of the warm beverage in front of me. I chuckled, popping the cork back onto the glass seal. I opened up the lighter satchel, the weight of the missing emeralds quickly replaced by the alcohol.

I continued walking, my feet throbbing with every heaving step. The compass dial began spinning endlessly, I smacked it before smashing it against the ground, glass shards flying in different directions. I huffed, quickly realising my mistake.

"Useless piece of crap anyway," I muttered, tugging my worn jacket tighter around me. The temperature had begun to drop as night fell quickly. All was quiet until I heard a sickening crunch followed by the tiny, hurried footsteps of a baby zombie. 

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,' I internally panicked, failing to grab my sword in time. Its small fangs dug into my calf as I yelped, punching the undead creature with my hand. The yellow nails scratched my knuckles, droplets of scarlet staining the moonlit meadow below. I flailed my leg, shaking it, hoping that the beast would soon let go. Painfully, I pried the little monster off, holding it outstretched in my arms. I winced as I dropped to the ground, the guttural grunts vanishing in a puff of smoke, small green orbs dropping from its remains; I collected the EXP, tensing up as I felt the blood drip down my leg. I sat down, scattering a few torches around me before ripping off a strip of fabric from my shirt, wrapping it around my wound. 

"How far are these bloody mountains anyway?!" I hissed, lying down on the dewdrop grass.

The sky looked magnificent, I had often dreamt of my brother teaching me to fly; the clouds wavered in the skies, the sparkling lights of the stars reminding me of goldfish. I stretched out my pale hand, small brown freckles smeared along my arm. My brother's scaly pigeon wings had always been a subject of curiosity, it wouldn't be uncommon for Casper to chase me away from his room as I would've been lurking for feathers. I chuckled fondly at the memory. I felt a twinge of guilt - he had left, declared he couldn't deal with being in such a shitty house for any longer. Countless nights had been spent of restless tossing and turning as I convinced myself I was the reason he took off in a hurry one summer evening. I mean, we'd spend hours every day, screaming and shouting dreadful curses and blasphemous phrases that even the Gods themselves would be ashamed. Yeah, he was the one who picked me up after I stumbled into the Great Hall hungover and drowsy, but he wasn't subtle when I'd found the hidden weed shoved under his mattress; I was disappointed to say the least, when I found out he'd taken it with him.

I hated him, I hated it, I hated all of them. He could call me emo all he wanted but under his enlarged ego was a frail boy who the world had wronged- no, scratch that, he still is a frail boy whose parents are too busy with keeping the peace. I wondered if anyone had noticed the note yet.

I rolled over only to see the boney feet of a skeleton aiming its bow at me. I shrieked, the arrow piercing my left shoulder. Blood stained my bone-white shirt as I jumped up - but alas, not so fast! - and tumbled over the limbs of a red-eyed arachnid. The venom dripped off its sharp teeth as another arrow surged into my spine; my health bar flickered, I could feel my own heart pound as I darted into a cave. I fumbled for my stack of dirt, blocking up the entrance as heavy pants filled the cavern, a bead of sweat dripped off my forehead as I reached for my bread. This was unbelievable, why were there so many mobs?! It was like someone had turned the difficulty to hard. I dragged my sleeping bag out, unrolling the warm layers of comfort. As I laid down, the sounds of monsters dying from the inferno rising from the mountains trickled into my ears like honey.

Maybe I'll make a friend, who knows?

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Word Count: 1050