legends of dacot (rise of a forgotten myth) (standard:fantasy, 9085 words)
Author: poetrydiva	Added: Feb 06 2005	Views/Reads: 3409/3300	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
On the 15th day of august in the year 1309, there was a birth that would change the history for the great Kingdom of Dacot. Born into no convenience or great wealth, this boy is nothing of great note to the King, who would one day feel his cold blade thro

On the 15th day of august in the year 1309, there was a birth that would
change the history for the great Kingdom of Dacot. Born into no 
convenience or great wealth, this boy is nothing of great note to the 
King, who would one day feel his cold blade through his flesh. The boy 
is now a stable hand in the Kings Stables. He is the lowliest of 
servants sleeping on a hay mattress, dreaming of is next meal of thin 
soup and zatha. He has managed to survive seven and three quarter 
years. This is where his legend begins. 

Today is the naming day for all those born in the last 10 years. Today
children as old as 9 or even 10 will finally have their own name. It is 
a day of great importance to the small boy off in the stables, who has 
been called “boy" or "street rat" his whole life. Today is the day he 
gets something of his very own. Being born into a family of servants to 
the king is not the worst of fates for most, but to this boy it is the 
worst thing that had ever happened in the world. Some cosmic break 
happened that august 15 that made him a slave to the whims of an ever 
crueler tyrant. 

* 

“I'm finally going to have a name, Berta!” exclaimed the stable hand to
his beloved horse. “After almost eight years! A name! No one is ever 
going to call me ‘street rat' again! Never!” 

The other workers that were working around the stables were smiling at
the boy for his joy, remembering the excitement and anticipation of 
youth. 

Most were wearing the browns and grays of the castles servants. Others
wore brighter colors such as blue or even a rare maroon. All wore the 
heavy boots of the King's Stable's. 

As he said this, the block master walked in to The Stables. He had a wry
grin on his face. He knew this was the end of his amusement with this 
one. 

“Hey!” He shouts to the boy. At this the boy jumps and slides his foot
into horse manure. Seeing what happened, he scolded the boy. “That's 
what you get for not doing your job. Serves you right anyway being late 
to your own naming ceremony,” He says, with the tight mouth and unkind 
eyes the boy has become accustom to. 

But today the boy had no time for being sheepish under his master's
glare. He had a naming to get to. The boy ran to the square at the 
heart of the city. He made it to the square just in time to see the 
procession of The King and Prince. Still breathing heavily, he climbed 
the creaking wooden steps to the platform. 

“Today is a day of great importance!“ cried the announcer. “This day the
future King will be named!" and applause rang through out the square. 
“Today these children,” making a sweeping gesture towards the large 
throng of children now on the platform. “will be named!” 

The same shrill applause rung through the large square and into the
boy's ear. He was so excited that he didn't even notice that the girl 
next to him was holding her nose and looking at him as if he had just 
made a rude sound. 

As the naming went, on the boy only half heard the names being called,
as he was too busy looking around the square. He noticed things he was 
always too busy to notice before. Always rushing around, he'd had no 
time to notice the livery of the season. 

It was mid-spring and the shopkeepers had a large assortment of fruits
and vegetables, the flower maids, as they were called, had many 
different colored blossoms. 

Looking into the crowd he saw people of many different social standings,
The King in his throne on the end of the platform, the proud father in 
the front waiting for his son to be called, the court nobles in the 
back talking politics with each other, the old maid, come to see The 
Prince be named and the older boys with the mangy mutt playing fetch, 
with many others filling the spaces. All had come to see the naming. 



Click here to read the rest of this story (894 more lines)