Rough Draft Part 1
A Voice in the Clouds
Welcome to my little corner of the internet! I’m so glad you’re here. Below you’ll find part one of my fantasy short story Rough Draft. It starts like you might expect: our Hero is on a mission to rescue the Princess. I’m excited to show you where it goes from there.
Find the rest of the chapters plus all of my other fiction here:
Anaxl pulled himself up to the next mountain plateau, pausing to rest. His breath formed before him, a misty cloud that was quickly drawn away by the wind. The snow made a soft crunching sound beneath his boots as he continued his trek to the summit of Mt. Tazul. A narrow staircase had been carved into the rock, open on one side. It curved around out of sight, inviting him to the top. Convenient, he thought, but can I trust it?
His instincts had saved his life earlier in the day, when a group of bandits had lay in wait to ambush him as he climbed. He had gone a more difficult way, off the path, and surprised the bandits instead. They now lay dead several hundred feet below, darkening the snow with their blood.
Anaxl pulled his sword from its scabbard and decided to risk the staircase. Finding another way up could add hours or days to his journey. Time he did not have.
She was waiting.
The climb was long but uneventful. As he reached the top, the stairs widened slightly before ending in front of a cave entrance, dark except for a single lit torch hung just inside. The opening was wide enough to fit several men at once, and taller still. Anaxl grabbed the torch from its sconce and ventured in.
The ground rose at a gentle angle, bringing him closer to the top of the mountain. The air was growing warmer as well. Whatever spell had trapped the princess here had also seemingly protected her from the cold, keeping her alive. But for what purpose? Anaxl didn’t have these answers, just his mission. So he climbed.
Eventually he saw light up ahead. As he neared the source of the light he could make out the end of the cave. The wall was lined with torches, illuminating a woman lying on a bed of stone. She was dressed in a white silken robe, arms folded upon her chest. She was not breathing.
“Princess!” Anaxl called. His voice echoed in the hollow chamber. She did not respond. He walked up to her, leaning his torch against the stone, and put a hand to her cheek. Despite the warmth of the room, she was pale and cold. He pulled out a small vial of liquid, an elixir given to him by his mentor, and slowly poured its contents into the princess’s mouth.
After a moment, she sat up, coughing. “Gentle, Princess,” Anaxl said. “Do not be alarmed.” The girl looked around the room before settling her gaze on his face.
“I know you…” she said. “The smith’s apprentice.”
Anaxl pulled an extra cloak from his pack and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Yes, your grace. Now, we must leave, for I fear that we will not be alone for long. The Witch will soon learn….” He cut off as he saw the confusion on the princesses’ face. “What is wrong, my lady?”
She swung her legs over the side of the stone bier, then stood up. “I hear something… a voice in the distance,” she said. She took a few steps, then turned around in a slow circle, narrowing her eyes as she listened intently. “You do not hear it?” she asked.
Anaxl stepped up next to her, concerned. “Your grace,” he said, “perhaps you should lie down for…”
“Quiet,” she said, her voice regaining its naturally commanding tone. “I heard it again. A voice… recounting our movements. Even as you came near, I heard it say ‘Anaxl stepped up next to her, concerned…’”
“Oh,” Anaxl said, relaxing. “You mean the Narrator.” He said it so matter-of-factly that the princess doubted herself, wondering if her long slumber had affected her memory.
“How dare you, sir,” she said.
“Your highness?” Anaxl answered. “I am sorry for offending you, however I am unsure of how…”
She turned to him, annoyed. “No, not you,” she said. “It. The voice.” She looked up at the ceiling. “I do not doubt myself, spirit. I am a Princess.” As she said this, her stomach rumbled, distracting her from her unreasonable tirade and…
“Oh no,” she interrupted rudely, “you will not change the subject.” She crossed her arms beneath her disappointing bosom. “Who are you? How do you know what we are going to do?”
She heard no reply, however. “My pardon, your grace,” Anaxl said, “but I do not believe the Narrator will answer. He is not… like us.”
“Of that fact, I have little doubt,” she replied, then turned and picked up the torch that still lay flickering beside the stone table. “Shall we depart?” she asked Anaxl, but started walking before he had a chance to answer, hoping to leave the Narrator behind. Alas, even if she succeeded, she would still be stuck with herself. “I heard that!” she called back over her shoulder.
Anaxl followed, pointedly not sighing to himself or shaking his weary head.
Suggested music for Part 1: Mad World (featuring Gary Jules)
Part 2 is out now. Go! Read it!
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