The House Of Blood and Dust, Book One: Darkness Rising

Once a Song, Now a Tale For All To Tell

If I was given the chance to change my past, to stop my father killing my grandfather, I probably wouldn’t be here lying on the floor of a tent in an elven camp, dazed and in a hell of a lot of pain. It would change who I am, pain moulds us and fear creates us, anger adopts us into its arms, you’ll never lose anger for it’s within your head.

          “I see you’re awake.”

          “Indeed, Dervish can I actually move now or will my intestines fall out of my arse.” The dark skinned elf laughs and helps me sit up,

          “You have a colourful way with words, master Arkness.”

          “And you are a prude, master Bloodflower… Bloodflower such an odd clan name.” I move my body and only ache a bit. I move my legs and they feel so weak and numb.

          “It’s the name of me being an assassin not my clan… this is my clan but my mother ran off with a human and the got married, but you know human politics… they were killed and I was recruited to kill for them, I did and after a few years, I fled and now I am here.”

          “So that’s why you’re a prude… my father just tried to kill me and I decided to become an anarchist assassin.” He laughs, “Why laugh?”

          “Oh you’re an odd person… most humans are just zombie-like and obey the rules, you break the laws of the mind.” I laugh and stand the pain in my legs multiply.

          “Fuck… you know, I died and lived. I’m formally an oxymoron, the living dead.” I laugh and so does the elf.

          “Why don’t you walk around get used to reality again.”

          “Yeah that sounds like a good fucking plan, my grey skinned friend.” He smiles and goes back to mixing chemicals and crushing up plants.

          “Farewell, master Arkness.” I step out into the sunlight, as far as I can tell, I’ve been lying on a feather stuffed mattress on the floor of that tent for a week and it’s rained none stop and now it feels like around forty degrees plus humidity. The grass is damp and I’m just wearing linen trousers and a cotton t-shirt.

          “I wish I had shoes… or socks at least.” My voice has gone somewhat deeper. I walk through the camp, the Parador elves walk around but no signs of my friends and being in a medical tent for a week, you’re not told much other than your insides have nearly been turned to mash. The dampness is refreshing and I’m quite hungry.

          “They said you were here but I wasn’t allowed to come and see you, I thought you died in there.” There she is the one who betrayed me but yet I have no urge to kill her.

          “I’m hard to kill.” I laugh and grab hold of her, she squeezes me tightly and I bring her off her feet.

          “I am sorry, I was just angry.”

          “I need a drink… a strong drink, do you think they like give out lager or some shit.” She laughs and of course as we’ve been staring into each others strange eyes, we kiss like in cliché films with twenty year olds playing sixteen year olds so the sex scenes are semi-legal.

          “Let’s go find the booze tent.” I walk about two steps and an elf stops and looks at me

          “Oh well look who’s got out of his pit and is walking around like a convict just been released.”

          “Oh Michael, you bastard… come here.” I grab him and he squeezes me hard. In a few words you can say that me and Michael have a queer relationship, much so that people believe us homosexual of course we are not but I have those feelings towards him but no need to act for it’s a different kind of love.