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Commentary thread for part 1: Hand of the Destroyer commentary
part 1: Hand of the Destroyer pt. 1
Commentary thread: Commentary thread
NOTE: If you do not read part 1, you will not understand this. I decided to split my story into parts, as the 1st part was getting long and I thought that all that writing might be intimidating for potential readers.
CHAPTER 1: Rivermill
"Where am I?" Ryllian wondered, dazed as his senses slowly came back to him. He woke up by the river, surrounded by healers. Trynna, who was one of the healers, took the liberty of explaining to Ryllian what just happened.
"We were attacked by cultists," Trynna began. "We were on the way to the village of Rivermill, which is one of the places in our route to Hrothdaen. We were just outside of Kingshold when we were ambushed by a group of the Destroyer's cultists, and one of them knocked you out with a club. Luckily, there was a lot of us and very little of them, so we managed to drive them off. The healers got started on you right away and now you can be sure that there's no permanent damage to your head."
Ryllian remembered it all now. He remembered how the look on Gaja-muda's face changed from indifference to horror. He remembered the scream of the cultists' victim. "That guy," he managed to say. "The one who got hit by the arrow, what...." His voice trailed off, as he was still shocked at the sight of a life being taken. Trynna spared him the suffering of having to say those last words.
"We're holding a funeral for him and burning his remains so that the cult's necromancers can't reanimate it," she explained. "We're sending a messenger to tell his family." Ryllian nodded silently, grateful that things weren't as bad as they could be, but still mourned for the death of a comrade.
The band of conscripts continued on their path, stopping at Rivermill. Rivermill was a small village situated by Kingshold River, and Ryllian looked with astonishment. There were buildings made out of straw and sod, fishermen sitting by the river, and people buying goods at the market. It was nothing like the glorious Kingshold City, where the markets were bustling with activity and where the grand cathedrals and spacious homes covered the landscape. The people here fished for their own food, and in Kingshold the way people obtained there food and where it came from was of no concern.
The conscripts were greeted with friendly smiles, and the children rushed out to look at the soldiers. "Soldiers!" they cheered. They were mere conscripts, young boys who could hardly pick up a sword, but to the Rivermill residents they were soldiers. People who fought for their land, people worthy of respect. In Kingshold, new recruits and military draftees were treated with indifference. Ryllian felt as if he could learn a lot from the people of Rivermill.
The Rivermill residents gave the soldiers free lodging at the inn, and when the inn was full some people even invited them into their homes. Gaja-muda was one of the people invited to stay at a resident's home.
Gaja-muda sulked silently outside his temporary home, and the homeowner could sense that there was something on his mind. "What troubles you, brother?" she asked Gaja-muda. "My name is Lyr, what's yours?"
"Gaja-muda," he answered.
"Ahh," Lyr nodded. "An Angin name." Lyr told Gaja-muda more about herself. She was a weaver, one of the most skilled weavers in the village. As a child, she lived an enriched life in the capital, but when she came of age, she decided that the big city wasn't right for her. She discovered Rivermill, and fell in love with it's humble lifestyle and warm-hearted people. "Your turn," she told Gaja-muda. "Tell me what's on your mind."
"Listen," Gaja-muda began. "I'm known as a snob, an ignorant and naive person. But today I just witnessed a death. The world isn't all flowers and I discovered that things don't always work out. It's the biggest wake-up call I've gotten, alright?" Lyr looked attentively at him and listened to his words.
"Why are you known as a snob?" Lyr questioned. Gaja-muda started to open up.
"I grew up in the Angin village of Danau Batu, right outside Ibu Cahaya, our capital," he began. "Everyone in the village fished, foraged, and hunted for their own food. They wove their own clothes. Except for my family. We were the wealthiest people in the village, because our father was a known businessman and had several connections to people in the capital. While everyone else lived in straw homes, we lived in a fancy cottage. The local people called it Rumah Indah, which meant 'beautiful home.' They were only allowed to look at it, but no one ever came within three feet of it. My world was closed off to these hardworking villagers. I lived a life where everything was handed down to me, where everything worked out just the way I wanted it to. But this...this.." He couldn't finish. His eyes welled up with tears. Tears of shock and awareness.
"Listen, brother," Lyr began. "This right here, you opened up. You're growing. You're waking up and smelling the coffee. It's going to be hard to change your personality and to get used to reality, but it's possible. I was just like you, you know. I was wealthy and I looked down on anyone who wasn't. But I'm different now, and the more possesions I've lost, the more of myself I gained."
Gaja-muda nodded, humbled and grateful for the new friend that he made. The day passed, and everyone went to sleep.
< Message edited by febmaster -- 11/4/2012 12:42:48 >
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