Cold Passion A story i am writing

[FraKture 0]

Some feed back would be really great. I am 17 years old, and Live in Tucson, AZ. I'm a Junior. Please read and comment!!!

 

Evelyn walked across the vast grounds in front of the gate. What would she do today? It always seemed as if life were better for everyone passing by, they always seemed to have someplace to go while her whole life was taken care of by others. If she was hungry the castle chefs would get to work in instants, a personal hairdresser and a weekly scheduled manicurist kept her looks up, and she had a wagon driver and a jeweler. If she didn’t feel like walking through the castle there were designated servants meant to carry her. She felt as if she had chosen the wrong life to live, and wanted to die just to start over.

She began to walk towards the village looking at all the people under her father’s rule; fascinated. She could not figure out why they were called the simple folk when their lives were terribly more complicated than her own. She strolled sluggishly through the streets, capturing the attention of all who had time to notice her and receiving dozens of puzzled looks. She quickly realized she didn’t blend in as well as originally planned and hurried off to the side of the street. Pulling her cloak close, she sat at a nearby inn and gazed onto the bustling village scene unfolding before her. She had spent a large portion of her last few months here and she had yet to make any friends. It seemed as if everyone was too afraid or too busy to talk. Being a princess wasn’t all that she had expected. She stood to leave and looked up to the castle. She glared at its high walls and perfectly crafted archer towers. The planned perfection eerily mocking her in a way that was unexplainable. She hesitated and turned to the thick, German woods, where the resistance was rumored to have a headquarters. Evelyn loved stories of the resistance and her father’s assassination attempts. Obviously she loved her father, but her life was so monotone she craved excitement and change like a common nicotine addict. Evelyn sighed deeply and could feel all the eyes on the back of her head as she took her first step into the dense trees. Even on her first few steps in the surroundings were changing. This territory was unmarked by the axe and hammer of her people, and its natural beauty shimmered all around her. Evelyn’s eyes lit up as she strolled through the immaculate forest, touched at the mess of ivy and flowers on the floor and the towering pines around her. This wasn’t so bad she thought to herself as she walked into the forest a while before coming across a large crevice in the face of a rock pile. The tree towers around her had singe marks burned deep into their sides and the grass was long past dead and dried out. She cringed inside as she thought there may be no hope for this forest, every single foot would eventually be someone’s farm or slaughterhouse. Her father’s quest for economic dominance over the other “kingdoms” was the cause for all of this destruction. Smoke was billowing out of the rock and a few scattered holes in the earth mere feet from her. She kept replaying different scenes in her mind of what happened. The area almost looked as if it had been hit by a contained wildfire. Seeing a templar’s cloak on the ground; she turned to flee, knowing the templar as a servant of her father, would take her back to the castle and alert her father of her actions.

Snap

“Oh no!” Evelyn thought as she stopped and prepared to crouch down behind a wall of green. She could hear the sound of heavy breathing and pounding footsteps. A few moments passed without instance so, quietly shrugging off the foreboding feeling she finally began to breathe again. She turned again to head deeper into the woods. Suddenly, she was startled by a flash of light somewhere to her far left. As she began to run she was slammed into the ground by a hulking figure of white and gold. She fell just as a long stream of bluish-white flame whizzed by her head, slightly singeing the ends of her brown hair.

•

Viktor walked away from the tree house thoroughly pissed off. “Rushing the Castle! Who the *BLEEP* did they think they were?” He stormed to his own tree home to get into his father’s old oversized armor. He wasn’t about to let their decision get the last few hundred left killed. This templar couldn’t be that hard to find, and he knew they weren’t skilled in hand to hand combat. Viktor felt a chill run up his spine. Was this what his father had thought, too? He climbed up the ladder about forty-five feet up to his room. It was one of the smallest in the hideout. Most of the other resistors’ families followed them away from the Castle village. The shabby room consisted of a homemade straw mattress thrown on the floor; a small but masterfully carved coat rack for his war cloak, depicting the white and gold colors of the resistance and the beautiful silken dot sewn into the face of the chest. The self-fashioned maroon dot represented his special skill. He liked to think he added to it with every tyrant’s death. The war cloak had been his father’s before his own, and he would and had killed to keep it in tact. He wore it on any extremely dangerous mission he was sent on, and some he planned himself. This would be the latter.

Viktor pulled the arm vices on and clamped them tightly to his forearms. The straps were getting loose, but he had no time to fix that now. Viktor was suddenly thinking of his father again, wondering if his equipment had been secured fully that day. He shrugged off the painful memories.

He decided against wearing his breastplate, anticipating the need for a fast getaway, and pulled on his shin guards with unexpected excitment. Viktor had just realized this would be the first person of actual castle rank he would assassinate. Somehow that realization began to strengthen him and prepare him for anything. He walked to the *BLEEP* armor rack his mother made, and pulled off his protective vestments. He put the headdress on and pulled the chain mail tenderly onto his head. His chain mail shirt was way too big and would slow him down much like his breast plate. Thoughts of his father flooded his mind again as he wondered if he would have lived had he thought of this. Viktor walked over to his bedside teary eyed and picked his canteen up off the floor. He grabbed his med bag too, in case he had to treat any burns or particularly bad gashes. With a deep sigh, he looked into the sky and began to pray to his father.

 

•

 

Evelyn could hardly breathe; her lungs were being flattened by whatever it was that had almost knocked her unconscious. She could feel the perpetrator feeling around for the ground, and pushing itself up. He whispered into her ear to get to safety as he produced a short sword from somewhere under his cloak. Evelyn tried to get to the town but found herself stuck in that spot, gazing mindlessly at the standoff taking place less than ten feet away in total awe. One of the combatants was holding a six foot long wooden staff that was burning only at the very top, around a sharp metal blade that curved towards his rival. He was somewhere near thirty, but was still in his prime. He was very large, much bigger and ferocious than any knight she had seen. He was very muscle bound, his body much too large for his head. Surprisingly though, he looked utterly exhausted and there was an unmistakable look of fear on his face. Evelyn’s look moved slowly over to her rescuer, who wasn’t exactly an eyesore. He had a sinewy build, his muscles tense and poised for anything. Every motion of his limbs coaxed forward a flex or an exaggerated distinction in his muscle tone. He was obviously exhilarated because she could see the veins pumping the blood through his body in sharp detail, even from the distance. She found herself stuck staring at him, as if she could absorb him into her eyes, wishing she was his. Even as he whirled around to dodge the giant’s attacks she imagined him holding her. The older man threw a small sack towards her hero. It was shooting up red and green sparks, and her hero dove to his right to avoid it. The small, sparkling ball suddenly burst into a cloud of flame, singeing leaves and bark off of many nearby trees. Evelyn couldn’t help only thinking of her heroes eyes, pondering what his face might look like close up.

 

•

 

Viktor walked quickly through the small clearing in the trees. To the left was the village and the right, Colditz castle. “King Colditz” and his damn policies were the cause for this whole rebellion. He could remember the day his father got sick of the taxes and finally banded together with the other village leaders to refuse to work until they got a bit of the profit. Lord Colditz had raised the castle’s share of agriculture the moment he took Lordship, and announced himself king of the entire state. He was purely militant and a genius when it came to strategy. His cold blood infuriated Viktor as he thought about all the war stories he had heard over the years.

Viktor stopped walking and looked around him. He was in a densely wooded part of the forest, and the surrounding trees were obviously scarred with fire. Viktor sat down almost inside a nearby bush and waited.

 

•

 

Evelyn caught a hold of her senses when she heard her hero yell in pain, and she ran towards a clump of trees to hide. She became quite bored hiding behind the tree and peeked her head out to see what was happening. Her savior had the templar pinned to the ground at sword point, and was saying something to him. “You are a disgrace to all that we fought for and some died for,”

“Please, Viktor, your father and I were best friends. I was caught by the king. I had no choi-,“ the templar gargled out, before a spurt of blood silenced him.

Evelyn fell to the ground, as reality slipped away. She closed her eyes and tried to forget.

 

•

 

Viktor hobbled around the site, forgetting the necessity of hiding, utterly fascinated by the scorched trees. He figured there had to be some sort of explosion of flame, much like the magnesium flares templars were known for, but on a much more magnificent scale. He heard rustling behind him and dove into a shadow. As he crawled to get a better look, he heard what had to be a giant stirring. Its footsteps were loud and resilient, probably audible for miles. Viktor sprang up as a flare went off feet away from his face. He shielded his eyes and rushed the surprisingly small figure. As he tackled his assailant to the ground, he felt her build and realized his mistake. He tenderly rose and turned on the templar hurling another flame towards him. He leaped towards the fireball and in one graceful motion caught the ball in his headdress, saving the young woman’s life once again. As he turned to throw his cloth the flame licked at his hands like a searing hot tongue and burned a shallow hole into his palm. Viktor hurriedly fumbled through his med pack to grab a soothing cloth as he dashed behind another tree, barely evading yet another deadly ball of flame. Viktor quickly dabbed at the gaping hole looking back at him with the cloth. He cringed as the pain reliever did quite the opposite, and irritated his skin. He unsheathed his short sword once again, and went out to finish what he had started.

 

•

 

Evelyn awoke to the noise of a heated argument between two men. One of them was her handsome, many-time savior and the other was a total stranger to her. She inwardly scolded herself for not assuming both the men strangers, and made a firm resolve to be more lady like from there on out. Evelyn sat up from her awkward slumber, averting her eyes from the dead body some fifty yards away, just to be sure not to faint again. She ambled over to the two men and startled them quite a bit with her greeting.

“Good heavens, where did you come from?” asked the new man, turning pale.

“Well hello to you too.” Evelyn responded, playfully, “I’ve been over yonder, resting and waiting to find out what this was all about.”

“Resting? I thought I told you to get to safety…” Her hero mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

“My name is…” Evelyn started, stopping herself before revealing her status. “Eve.”

“And what is your surname, Eve?” asked the friendly newcomer.

“Auszfratz, and yourselves?” she replied, blurting out the first servant’s name she could think of.

“Well I am Gaziere Flektz.” The nervous man said, turning expectantly to his companion.

“And you are coming with us.” His companion said, still keeping their eyes from meeting. He turned to pick up his traveling cloak when they heard a soft thud accompanied by an exasperated gasp from Gaziere. His eyes widened with shock as he grasped the arrow protruding from the dead center of his chest. He swayed forward and back before finally collapsing to the ground, claimed by death. Evelyn felt her body moving but her mind was stuck to that spot. Frozen in time. Replaying the initial contact and surprise over and over in her mind, until it became an exaggerated thought and she could dismiss it.

When Evelyn finally awoke from her self-inflicted coma, her body was still being pulled by the stranger, through a much deeper section of the forest. She looked skyward but all was pitch black. She began to worry about how long she had been gone from the castle, unable to tell if it was past dark or if the trees were blocking out all of the sun’s rays. What would her father do without her? She was all he had left, his only family member still breathing. He must be going insane right now, worried about her and scared for her...

•

 

Viktor pulled the dazed girl behind him. Eve had turned into a drone since Gaziere was shot. Viktor quietly mourned his death as he walked through the forest towards home. He would have a lot to explain when he got there. He hurried through the forest for nearly two hours, greatly slowed down by Eve.

 

Viktor could hear the advancing party crashing through the forest. His eyes scanned the trees for a possible hiding place as he lead eve into a dried out patch of earth. The rain fell in slow motion around him and he decided he couldn’t ask Eve to climb in her state. He looked at her for the?? first time and was taken aback at her beauty. Even covered in mud and rain her honey brown hair shown through. He quietly admired her clear, blemish free face and began to wonder what she was doing in the woods.

Viktor heard another crash pulling him back into consciousness.

“*BLEEP*, Eve, we have to go.” He whispered more to himself than anyone. He pulled Eve to her feet and led her at a full sprint through the diminishing foliage directly west. He wanted to get to the hideout and explain what happened. He had to keep this girl safe. He couldn’t let any more of the innocent die.

 

•

Evelyn fell in and out of reality as she followed her still nameless companion through the woods. Every few glances into the tangible she would think about what she was doing. Following a stranger away from home in what was probably the middle of the night. A murderer at that. Her mind swam whenever she thought of the dead bodies, the crimson hope, dreams and memories flowing like a river from the bodies. She taunted herself inside her own mind, preying on herself as a princess, teasing her soft cushioned life. So shocked at the sight of death and yet so obsessed with dying. What was wrong with her?

“*BLEEP*, Eve, we have to go.” She heard from a distance as her mind was slammed forward into her body. She fluttered her eyes as if waking up and collapsed from the sudden surge of drowsiness.

“I say we have to go and you drop to the ground? Seriously, we have to get the hell out of here.”

“What’s your name?”

“Viktor. Can we please go now?”

Eve stood up and began to walk shakily. “We can go but I need to lay down and sleep soon. I don’t usually run around this much being a pri... pie baker and all.”

Viktor scowled at her and held up a cloth torn from his pants. “Bind your eyes.”

 

•

Viktor felt Eve’s hand pull downward as she fell behind him.

“I say we have to go so you drop to the ground? Seriously, we have to get the hell out of here.”

“What’s your name?”

God what the hell is wrong with this woman. There is a half mad raid party closing in behind them and she needed to know his name?

“Viktor. Can we please go now?”

He was relieved as she stood wobbly to follow him.

“We can go but can go but I need to lay down and sleep soon. I don’t usually run around this much being a pie baker and all.”

Viktor cringed as he heard those words. It was settled then. He would have to take her to the hideout. He viscously tore a strip from his leggings and folded it over itself. He held the make-shift blindfold out to Eve.

“Bind your eyes.”

He knew he was riding a nice long path to punishment tonight, having broken two of the seven garnered commandments and having killed a higher ranking member of the resistance. His father’s close comrade and friend. Frankel. Lying bastard. He had been working for the king that whole time as a templar and now he had a whole lot to show for it. Killed in combat, pitifully wielding fire. Fire was the cause of all the death. The burning greed of the king and his ashen heart. His insatiable need for money, power and wealth. The wildfire his followers spread attempting to stem his ever growing lust for power only brought heartache and tears. Everything Viktor once knew had eventually been consumed by the flame.

“How am I supposed to walk through a forest of roots and plants and stumps with a blindfold?” Viktor heard from behind him, interrupting his dark poetry.

“We are being followed so if you enjoy breathing I would suggest you shut up. I will lead you as I have been. Speak again and I will slit your throat myself,” came Viktor’s reply, his hate and anger bubbling under each word. He felt her hand become very resistant and guessed that she had stopped walking. Eve was shaking in fear and Viktor was instantly filled with remorse. His misguided anger had obviously scared her.

“I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you I am mad at our predicament. Can we please keep moving?”

Eve complied quietly, grasping his hand once more.

 

•

Evelyn was trembling. Her two-time hero can’t be threatening her. Even if he didn’t mean it Evelyn realized he was right. He could slit her throat at anytime. He could throw her off to the side and no one would be able to save her. Still, she was oddly attracted to this man. She was greatly relieved that the blindfold had hidden her tears as she silently cried. Why was this happening? She hadn’t planned this as part of her fairy tale get a ways. The elements were right but the story wrong. She was supposed to go live with her prince at a far a away castle after a gorgeous wedding ceremony performed by her father.

Well, here was her handsome prince and her beautiful mud gown. It was easy for her to believe that merely hours ago she had wished to start over, all over lack of excitement. Her wishes had become a reality, and it scared her.

She could see the ground rushing up towards her face. The next thing she knew she was tasting dirt and slime. Had she really collapsed again? She threw her arms down at the ground to push herself up but her body wasn’t fazed. She finally felt Viktor help her up and prop her up over his shoulder.

•

Viktor stumbled into a small, animal dug hole and staggered under Eve. She was obviously exhausted and he still had nearly a mile to go. At least the hunting party had given up. Of course, he might have just been moving so slow they passed him, and Viktor was worried he would run into them again.

Just as he was thinking about leaving Eve and scouting ahead, he heard a twig snap behind him. Viktor whirled around, careful not to drop Eve, to defend himself but there was no one to be seen. Viktor turned back and found himself face to face with Lukas.

“Viktor, where have you been? Apparently, in your absence, a templar was slain.”

“I was just strolling through the beautiful meadows, Lukas, and that seems very fortunate that the templar should die right before we were planning on killing him.”

“See, the funny thing is, I didn’t say which templar died so how on earth would you know who it was?”

“I just assumed”

“You just killed him. The king’s raiding party took care of the body before we had time to strip it at all. What the hell were you thinking? You ruined what could have been a glorious victory.”

“We would have been massacred attempting to storm the battlements of the castle. You and the others are going mad. This war will not be-“ Viktor said before Lukas cut him off.

“What war do you speak of? All I see is rebellion matched with pain. Viktor, We have no army, we have no castle. We are a rebel party, not a warring kingdom.”

“So why do you try and fight like one?”

“We have tried to stay in the shadows and fight like cowards before and look what happened. Look at your father.”

Suddenly Lukas was on the ground bleeding from his mouth. Knocked unconscious in a single blow.

“Don’t you ever speak of my father again.” Viktor shouted at him, breathing heavily. He collected his thoughts for a few minutes before turning to help Eve back to his home.

 

•

Evelyn woke up in daze. She sat up as she gained her normal eyesight back and realized she had no idea where she was. The surrounding room was very small, with very little light, almost like a cupboard in the middle of a prison cell.

Evelyn couldn’t move any of her limbs. The aching sore burn tormented her with every attempt to move out of the bed. Her filthy body further ruined her state of mind and she settled into a pout.

“Are you going to need to wash those clothes?” came Viktor’s voice, as his head popped through the ladder hole in the floor.

“Yes, of course I will.” Evelyn replied, hoping washing clothes wasn’t difficult to do. She walked to the ladder after Viktor beckoned her and began to climb down, nervously awaiting her first time doing laundry.

As they made it to the lakeside, Viktor handed Evelyn a scrub brush and a washing board. He then walked over to the beach and began to disrobe. Evelyn found herself unable to look away as her blush grew deeper and deeper shades of pink and red. Viktor turned to her to ask if she wanted to swim and Evelyn had to force her eyes up.

“We have most of the morning to calm down, the chambers don’t meet until at least high noon.” He said, not nearly as embarrassed as Evelyn.

“Oh well I have. Erm. I have clothes to. Uhm. I have clothes to wash but you enjoy the dip.”

“Alright, but the water is spectacular.”

Evelyn felt her hands slide towards the front of her dress. Well, no one would know.

 

•

Viktor’s mind was racing. He had mere moments before his conference with the chamber, and he still had little idea what he was going to say. Would they ever believe that one of their most trusted had been a Templar the whole time? Oh no, what if he was working as a spy on the king? What if he were on a mission to assassinate the king? The possibilities were making Viktor’s head spin like a well thrown discus.

Footsteps. Viktor stood without a thought to respectfully welcome the chamber members. He sat as they sat and waited for the first question.

“Viktor son of Voivode, Captain of Resistance. What stirs ye mind?” called out the head Prelate.

“Fathers of the good, I come here to beseech forgiveness and understanding for what could be interpreted as a great crime against our noble cause.”

“What is thine crime?”

“I disobeyed direct orders to strike my own path and hunt out the templar we doth seek. Upon finding him, I engaged in a public battle which broke the code of stealth. I won the small fray and before killing the templar and searching him, I thought to damask him and speak to him.”

“The description of thine crime is most heinous indeed, Young Viktor. I pray hope there is no more?”

“Just a bit more, Judicator. The templar turned out to be Frankel and-“

“Pause there son.” The leader of the seated men said, obviously surprised at the turn of events. “Frankel, from the house of Niklas?”

“Yes, my lord, Frankel Niklas.”

“Master Niklas and your very own father were the best of friends before his passing. You condemn such a man?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Now wait just a minute,” came a voice from the opposite side of the bench, “Frankel was a good friend and a loyal comrade. He would have died for those same principles you kill for.”

“Well, Sir, no disrespect meant but I never knew Frankel before my father died and U think you all may not have known the Frankel I had a fiery few moments with in the Colditz Woods.” Viktor said, inciting a few small eruptions of emotion from more than one councilman.

“Viktor, I remember one battle I served in with Voivode and Frankel themselves. Glorious, glorious men. Frankel was as large as a fully grown black bear but twice as clever and your father was about as swift and tricky as the world’s oldest fox. Voivode was a field officer at that time, not really commanding a lot of rank. He eventually was assigned to Frankel’s battalion to look over and keep the men in line.”

outdo one another or attempting to become friends. They did both.”

“Yes, Viktor, if it wasn’t for Frankel you wouldn’t be alive today. Frankel saved Voivode from a crossbow almost a fortnight before his wedding.

“Might I remind you all that I have heard these stories hundreds upon hundreds of times and you always neglect to mention the “duo” was in fact a trio. Is King Colditz irrelevant to this story?”

“Yes, Viktor, quite.”

“I don’t think so. If Colditz was capable of betraying the joint friendship in such a deplorable way, what makes Frankel any less likely?”

At this logic the chamber members became uneasy, suddenly seeming less sure of themselves. Viktor took the opening.

 

•

Evelyn’s body ached differently now. Every moment of thought flung her deeper In love with Viktor. He had left less than ten minutes ago yet she missed him, she yearned for him.

...

To be continued.

 

 

 

C&C PL0X

Edited February 28, 2008 by FraKture (see edit history)

[Vixen_Poetic 0]

So you want feedback, Fracture? I'll try to be nice while being honest, but you're not making it easy for me.Firstly, the way you jump back and forth between two persons perspective is rough on the reader. I know you want to tell the whole story, show both their inner selves, but it would be better to either have a narrator, an omniprescient observer, tell the story giving the reader insights into the characters thought processes at apropriate times, or first tell it from one character's perspective then come back with the other character remembering the highlights and get his/her take on it then.Secondly you need to take another look at the characters, their situation and supporting cast. For instance, a princess is not left unattended ever, even if her assigned companion is a maid, and in a time of unrest in the country she doesn't leave the castle without a guard. And 'acting like a princess' does not include pouting, it means grace and manners.Lastly, I can see you are gearing up for a romance. Give the situation time to develop instread of pushing it ahead of itself. Develop the world and the characters and with it will develop the potential for a mutual attraction that is believable instead of contrived.I can see you're really trying to tell a story. I won't tell you to stop trying, through such efforts are writers made, but be prepared to discard a lot of ideas and try again, and again, and again, etc. until you have a story that says what you want it to say and does the art justice.

[FraKture 0]

"making it hard for you?"Please try to remember i am writing this for a class, which means i have set restrictions. I love getting feed back, but i don't like people looking down on me like a snob.I don't know exactly how credible you are, looking at your other posts you can't spell or finish a sentence very well.If someone competent would like to read my story have at it, but please don't just post garbled nonsense like above.C&C means make suggestions, not act haughty.

[Vixen_Poetic 0]

"making it hard for you?"Please try to remember i am writing this for a class, which means i have set restrictions.
I love getting feed back, but i don't like people looking down on me like a snob.

I don't know exactly how credible you are, looking at your other posts you can't spell or finish a sentence very well.

If someone competent would like to read my story have at it, but please don't just post garbled nonsense like above.

C&C means make suggestions, not act haughty.

Fracture it is difficult to remember something that I have never seen. And I keep telling myself that you are 17. One of the worst things that can happen to an otherwise talented, aspiring writer is to be treated nicely. Being nice to someone often means holding one's tongue and telling little white lies like, 'I love your stuff!' A person given only that kind of feedback is given no reason to improve; honesty is required, niceness is optional.

For my own reasons I do wish it had not been a school assignment that you had posted but a genuine effort of your own desire to tell a story. If you feel that it is ready to be graded by your teacher, needing no improvement, then hand it in. But if you feel that it is lacking then perhaps you should look again at the only advice you have been given. Feel free to get out a dictionary, it is an essential tool for all writers, new and experienced.