Hollow World ~~ A Medieval novel
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- Parts 2
With a swift cracking noise, a piece of wood was sent flying through the forest, falling onto a pile of many more pieces like it. Jaune wiped the sweat from his forehead, as he placed the now broken handle to his wooden sword on the floor to his right, picking up another one from the pile on his left. 4 months, he had been chopping at this tree with his wooden swords. 4 bloody months.
Another hour passed, and Jaune finally stopped to take a break. He turned toward his cabin, plopping himself down on a chair on his porch. As he reached down to the floor to grab his jug of watered down whiskey, his maple brown eyes glanced up, meeting a pair of Chestnut irises.
"Ah, and the beautiful lady of royalty returns!" he chuckled, bowing his head sarcastically.
"Bite me!" The woman said, chuckling slightly as she approached him, resting her hand on his cheek "Still hard at work, I see. I'm sure you're shaping up to be a fine swordsman, and if not, maybe an axeman. I mean, just look at all this firewood you've gotten for us!" she said, a light giggle escaping her lips.
This woman was Jaune's wife to be: A grey-haired woman by the name of Danielle Pyroma. They had met during the winter solstice festival, and after a few drinks, were nearly inseparable. She sat down in the chair next to him, leaning back into it. Jaune smiled over at her, taking her by the hand, before standing up.
"Today. Today is the day I will down this tree. Tomorrow will be the day I become a swordsman." He said, looking down at her. "And I will make our name known throughout the lands!" He chuckled, kissing the top of her hand, before heading out to the tree once more. A small shout could be heard from inside the cabin, Danielle's sister Annabelle had been watching this entire interaction. "He better! I deserve to be sitting on a golden throne by the end of the month!" She said, before resting her head against her pillow once again.
That night, Jaune never came to bed.
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Jasper stiffens in his seat as I press the metal of the blade against his back. "Don't say a word. Come with me, right now." Of course, he doesn't listen. I had hoped a dagger to the kidney would be incentive enough, but even the threat of death doesn't graze a Devereaux ego. He turns toward me to argue, facing away from the goon that's been eyeing him across the bar. I doubt he even noticed. The man whispers something to his sketchy friend, pointing at Jasper. No time for discussion. I grab his arm and press the tip of the knife harder, just barely breaking the skin. He winces, realizing I mean business, and gets up. The idiot prince seems to finally get the memo, running alongside me until we're a safe distance away. "What the hell was that about?" his ragged breaths take the sting out of his words. I've never seen him like this before. Cheeks red, chest heaving, hunched over himself on the stump of a tree. For once, he looks like an authentic person. Of course, this is merely an illusion. Jasper Devereaux is an arrogant, entitled dirtbag, nothing more. I can't believe I just jeopardized my favorite trade spot for him. He demands to know why I pulled a knife on him instead of just telling him he was in danger. I explain to him that the reason for the dagger was glaringly obvious if you consider the way he acted when I did use it. If he was willing to argue with a blade against his skin, there is no way he'd have left that place in good hands if I hadn't forced him to. I can't help but laugh at the audacity of him to be angry with me for how I chose to save his life. "You really haven't changed." His head snaps up at this, and I see his eyes searching my face. Of course he doesn't recognize me. For me, it was super traumatic. For him, it was just another day. "What are you going on about?" "This isn't the kingdom, Jasper, these peasants aren't at your mercy." I see the blood drain from his face, and recognition clicks in his eyes.
The Cabin
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Is it too late to say Sorry?
"The fuck you are leaving me." His roar cracked through the hall like lightning. Ara didn't blink. She stood there, calm as death, done to her core. No tears. No tremble. Just a weary exhale as she turned her back on him - the one thing he never thought she'd do. Before she could take a step, his hand shot out, gripping her arm like he was holding on to life itself. "Where are you going, Ara!" His command shook the pack. But she wasn't his to command. Not anymore. Ara ripped her arm free with a force that made even his wolf recoil. "Don't. Touch. Me." Her aura slammed into him, cold and merciless. "You think I'll stand here and watch you mate and breed her?" she hissed, every word a dagger. His throat bobbed. "She meant nothing." She laughed - sharp, broken, brutal. "Yeah? That's why you were fucking her in your office? Couldn't even hide the scent of your betrayal." "Ara, it was a mistake-" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Your mistakes come in episodes, Alpha. Season one, season two, season three. You don't make mistakes. You make choices." He swallowed hard. "I don't need her. I need you." "Lies," she spat. "Every damn sentence you breathe is a lie. I can't even look at you without feeling sick." He flinched like her words physically hit him. "That female behind you?" she pointed, not bothering to glance. "Perfect for you. Go mark her. Breed her. Hell, fuck her for all I care." Her voice cracked - but she kept going, blade steady even when bleeding. "I don't need you. Not anymore." His knees crashed to the floor. The mighty Alpha. On the ground. For her. "Ara... I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry." His voice broke like he finally understood what loss tasted like. She stared at him with a sad, devastating smile. "Isn't it too late for that, Mate?" One tear escaped - and she crushed it away with her thumb. Then she turned. Walked. Didn't look back. But he didn't chase her. Because he knew. He didn't just lose her. He wrecked her.Complete
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A Hero With/Out Time
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Jasper stiffens in his seat as I press the metal of the blade against his back. "Don't say a word. Come with me, right now." Of course, he doesn't listen. I had hoped a dagger to the kidney would be incentive enough, but even the threat of death doesn't graze a Devereaux ego. He turns toward me to argue, facing away from the goon that's been eyeing him across the bar. I doubt he even noticed. The man whispers something to his sketchy friend, pointing at Jasper. No time for discussion. I grab his arm and press the tip of the knife harder, just barely breaking the skin. He winces, realizing I mean business, and gets up. The idiot prince seems to finally get the memo, running alongside me until we're a safe distance away. "What the hell was that about?" his ragged breaths take the sting out of his words. I've never seen him like this before. Cheeks red, chest heaving, hunched over himself on the stump of a tree. For once, he looks like an authentic person. Of course, this is merely an illusion. Jasper Devereaux is an arrogant, entitled dirtbag, nothing more. I can't believe I just jeopardized my favorite trade spot for him. He demands to know why I pulled a knife on him instead of just telling him he was in danger. I explain to him that the reason for the dagger was glaringly obvious if you consider the way he acted when I did use it. If he was willing to argue with a blade against his skin, there is no way he'd have left that place in good hands if I hadn't forced him to. I can't help but laugh at the audacity of him to be angry with me for how I chose to save his life. "You really haven't changed." His head snaps up at this, and I see his eyes searching my face. Of course he doesn't recognize me. For me, it was super traumatic. For him, it was just another day. "What are you going on about?" "This isn't the kingdom, Jasper, these peasants aren't at your mercy." I see the blood drain from his face, and recognition clicks in his eyes.
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