The Rapport of Gods [ hiatus ]
Description
They are gods among us. We have asked too much of them.
†
Feet dragging, mud slipping, rain pouring, wind howling, thunder shaking, the man gasped for air. His feet dug into the soft earth drenched with streams of rainwater, the downpour soaking his ragged clothes and the mud streaking them black. Through the trees, he could see it: the great, arched gate stood proud and tall as ever, looking down arrogantly upon him, and the man knew he should not have come.
He hoisted the girl in his arms a little higher and dug his feet into the ground a little deeper. Thunder clapped and lightning forked, tendrils striking trees waving in the viciously screaming winds. He pushed on, but the soft earth gave way, and he stumbled, the girl slipping from his arms. She did not cry out; it was far long past that she had fallen unconscious. The man coughed, rain dripping off the tip of his nose, spilling into his mouth, stinging in his eyes. He pushed back up despite the waterlogged garments hanging off his skin, and he dragged the girl by the crooks of her flimsy arms attached to her narrow shoulders.
He pushed on. Just a few more steps. One, two—thunder shook the air once again and he swore he saw the rain drops shiver—three, and he was there. He threw himself against the doors, staring up its height that seemed to reach on and on forever.
"Please."
His voice was barely a whisper, and no one would possibly hear his plea over the rain pelting the ground and the thunder barking in the sky, but he was sure they knew he was there.
"Please!" he dropped to his knees, pulling his daughter into his arms, her small body just as drenched with rain and covered with mud as his was. "Just this once, please!"
The door creaked and groaned, and the man lowered his head. It would be disgraceful, it would be his end, if he dared stare. A moment of silence passed, and the rained seemed to calm, if only a tiny bit. Soft footsteps, and the man saw the feet stand before him, and he shivered.
"Give her."
"Please, can you not just heal her and let us be?"
Lightning striked and thunder rumbled close by as if warning the man about saying such daring things.
"Your time is short. What significance is it if we heal her, but you cannot live much longer to care for her? Give her."
"Y-You will take care of her, then?" The man looked up, his eyes wide, his heart racing wildly.
The other before him looked bone dry, the raindrops vanishing before they hit his pure, white tunic.
"I cannot make that promise."
"Please!" the man gasped. "Heal her, raise her, prove that you are not scornful nor condescending—the people, they will notice! It will be in your be—"
"Hush. Give me the girl and be on your way."
The man's lips trembled, mouth still full of raindrops, and he painfully looked to his daughter before letting his arms loosen. She slid to the mud in front of the other's feet, and the man dropped his head, slowly backing away. Hands reached for her, freezing as the man spoke.
"Please, just make sure she's taken care of."
He got no response, and the other took the girl into his grasp, stepped away, and the man heard the same creak and groan of the great arched gate, but he did not look. The door grunted as it closed, and the man sat back on his knees, putting his face to the sky and letting the rain wash over him.
He did not make it back down the mountain.
Foreword
Author's Note: First fantasy story, and I'm so excited! Hope the prolouge intrigued you and you'll stick around to find out more. I haven't written anything fantasy yet, but I think fantasy is something I think I'm better at because I enjoy it a lot. So, have high expectations for me! Don't be afraid to leave constructive criticism or just your thoughts in general. Comments are what keep me motivated. Thanks, guys!
6/18/15: bare bones of story posted. work in progress.
6/19/15: poster and background added.
Comments