Misc. Stories

Changed

Hi, I wrote this story for school and was really proud of it. The prompt was that it had to be titled Changed (and some stuff about language devices). I kind of really want to continue this as a book, but I'm a little stuck right now so I wanted to post this here for the time being (I might take it down when/if the first chapter goes up just for the sake of not having the same thing up twice). This being for school is also the reason why it's formatted differently to what I usually do. I tend to do that aesthetic onto the next line and leave a few spaces thing but I had to paragraph properly here :3
Enjoy <3

The soldiers' job was not an easy one – or a rewarding one, for that matter. Their armour wore them down, as if on purpose, and the sun turned its back on them as they carried out their duties. It refused them its warming glow, instead allowing its gloomy companions to cast endless shadow on an already dreadful and long winter.

A fair few of Dorian's colleagues accompanied him to collect the King's taxes from the bitter villagers, yet there was a sense of solitude looming through the space. Not a single word had been spoken since that disgruntled curse the sorry coachman uttered when they were leaving the last town. Clip-clop, clip-clop. The occasional crunch when a horse's hoof flattened an untrodden patch of snow: those seemed to be the only tunes available to them, tempting the troops to let their minds drift into dreams and nightmares as they made their way down the path that stretched for miles, leading to the sombre castle where their callous ruler resided.

The carriage shook suddenly and sharply and sent Dorian, who was quite frail for a soldier, into the older, bulkier man next to him. The man, Gravel, glared down at him as if the boy's mere presence had offended him (which was a look Dorian was well-acquainted with) and inflated, towering over him. Another quake redirected the menacing giant's rage and he ducked out of the coach while it was still in motion. The four remaining soldiers exchanged timid looks, tumbling out after him only once they'd heard Gravel's hoarse yells.

The air outside the carriage was even more crisp and icy than inside, but they had no time to focus on this as they found themselves surrounded by faceless figures and abandoned by their ride. Gravel was face-down on the ground, being looted by two of the masked bandits, and the coachman was a trembling ball, thrown against a tree. Raising their swords, the troops took on their battle stances but their leader was already out. This left them unsynchronised and outnumbered.

"Lay down your arms," a vigorous voice came from a hooded figure standing in a slight clearing between the trees. Arms stuck out of her cloak, holding a bow and arrow aimed at one of the troops, Seth. "Lay down your arms to avoid bloodshed."

Dorian looked to the others for a hint as to what he should do. The two looters were now dragging a limp Gravel away. A feeling of purpose washed over the group, fused with anger over their possibly deceased mentor and fear of what the thugs would do if they surrendered. They tightened their grips on their weapons, charging forward. They had seven opponents – two were occupied with Gravel and one had just released her arrow. It cut through the air, grazing Seth's ear.

Gushing adrenaline, Seth quickly lodged his sword into the stomach of an attacker, then engaged in a back-and-forth with another. The others were paired off, so Dorian ran into the trees to confront the hooded archer.
"Don't come any closer or I'll shoot an arrow through your head," she warned, her voice steady.
"Why haven't you already?" he stopped and asked, hoping to distract her until he could think of a better plan.
"Drop your sword!" she commanded, clearly with no intention of answering his query. Instead, he leapt forward, hearing the strumming of her bowstring as she shot an arrow where he was about to land. The arrow hit the ground then Dorian rolled over it. He got up and ran at the archer, who stepped out of his way. He was too close for her to shoot now, so she dropped her bow softly onto the snow and pulled a sword out of her cloak.