|The Castle of Dreams (standard:fantasy, 5024 words)|
|Author: Nathaniel MIller||Added: Jun 10 2015||Views/Reads: 1033/759||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A story of battle of a peaceful kingdom vs the evil of the Inquisition. 2nd place winner,draw your swords contest: Writing.com|
The Beginning: The long shadow of evening fell upon a castle, built on the coast and located on the Fjord of Paramour, bordering the mouth of the Glenmore River that empties out into the dark blue depths of the sea. This large castle, standing here now for three centuries, is the home to a group of people who had long ago built it with their own hands and most of them immortal beings or those blessed with extraordinary gifts. They are all refugees of many lands, banished by their own people over their powers and gifts they did not understand. Powers that had been accepted at first, later feared, as the Inquisition rampaged across the land, persecuting and condemning anything and anyone heretic. As for the castle itself, however, is one that has not known any war or battle, the white stone making up the walls unscathed, unmarked from everything except time itself. It has been unchallenged in the three centuries that it had been standing and only legend, mystery and only stories spread across the land that has kept it a guarded secret. The white walls of the castle stand well over a hundred feet high from the ground to the top. It is built on the fjord of solid stone, surrounded by the sharp rocks, the swirling churning sea making it a formidable and foreboding place. It is at the edge of the Fjord that this place is the edge of a deepwater cove, a thriving seaport that serves this castle for ships. A large island of rock on one side protects its flank, from the sea, and on the other side, on the mainland, surrounding this place is a fertile valley, with farmlands directly outside the castle walls. There is a thick forest beyond that spreads out like a sea of green, across the valley to the Algora Mountain Range that surrounding this sheltered valley. It is a place of peace and prosperity until now. It has been only in the one hundred years that there has been more than just the castle and through the years many people traveled to this place from all over. They would know it as a refuge from the dark times that now are in this age. A village had sprung up, one of an impressive moderate size that formed around the castle. The people have come here to live in peace and escape the darkness of the Inquisition that now rages across the land. The castle has no king, no ruler, only a council of twelve that is the only leadership guiding the people. They are a wise and generous council, that guides the people who had taken refuge here, with wisdom, compassion and understanding. Standing on guard, on top of the wall of the Castle of Dreams, at this very moment, Tári Melwasúl, one of the immortal residents sits on the top of the southern most turrets. The young woman is here on guard, a routine watch for the castle, and staring down at the forest and sea. It is her turn on the normal routine watch for this castle, where each of the immortals took turns with the volunteers who guard the castle, ensuring the continued safety of its walls. She is an attractive youthful woman, with long brownish red hair that cascades down her back in a ripple of curls, brown eyes, and a trim petite figure. Tara wears a costume of her people, hand stitched by her own hand, of fine gray and green leather. Over the top of it, she wears the silver forged armor, and her sidearm, cast in her village long ago. This is the same village and home that had banished her over a hundred years ago, when the church encroached on their village. As she performs her watch, her mind is elsewhere, managing to stare now at the western horizon where a glorious display of blue, purple, gold, red and mauve colors cascade across the skyline. A sunset that had been uncommon in all the times she had been here at the castle. It made her think of her mate, and lover who now traveled the lands on a quest, to gather those like themselves. Her lover, who was not here, who shared many sunsets and sunrises together embraced in each other's arms. “Beautiful.” Tara managed to murmur, smiling as she stared at the western sky and a cool sea breeze whipped at her long hair. Her smile quickly faded, when the sound of a thunderclap echoed across the mountains. The sound at first made her jump and quickly she turned her head, peering out across the valley toward the mountains on the horizon. Tara had been unsure what she had heard, and her sharp eyes scanned the Click here to read the rest of this story (501 more lines)
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