Thread: Mx Male fantasy/original/romance updated 4/7

SAMPLE As day began to wane and give way to the eve, the sky bled a sort of red among the clouds its shade reminiscent of sparkling rubies adorning a Queens graceful neck. The large migration of mortals moving along the nearly barren plains had decided to halt their journey to a foreign land when they had stumbled upon good camping grounds just shy of their destination. The hardened earth was still humming with the heat beneath their feet the air's temperature began to drop. It was nearly the perfect summer afternoon the gentle tug of a light breeze playing with the men's hair and tickling their beards. A brave cricket or two even managed to chatter above the sounds of life, a thick tension settling permeating the air laced within each breath the men took. The realization of how close the coming battle was crept into the back of their mind, easing into their thoughts as they prepared camp for the evening. Fires began to roar with a thick crackle of life, the sounds of hushed chatter and horses hooves added to the serene grounds the background noise of nature. The sky grew darker still, the colour of congealed blood, as eve crept nearer and the men closed in towards the completion of their camp. Stray bangs of metal cut sharply through the air just as the last of the tents were being drawn. Cooking wares began their sound offs as well as they clank with the beginnings of preparation for the evening meal. It was then did the crickets grow braver as the camp seemed to become silent with a tense atmosphere. Men nervously shifted as horses remained alert, the unease disrupting them from sleep and should this behavior continue on without pause the horses would never be fit for the morning ride. Black bled like ink as night painted the sky anew, a few murmurs and the stomp of boots every now and then. A worker moving from each main tent setting up and lighting small torches had a look of worry. The center of the camp, however, began to breed with life as a deep voice projected itself throughout. The rumbled laughter vibrating with joy that seemed to be quite contagious. Those over hearing drawing smiles where none were to be had before, curious of the voice, many began to follow. Gathering around as the crowd broke into a reciprocated laugh at the fun stories being told. Before them in front of a fire sat their King, retelling stories of days long since past from his youth. In particular he began recalling that as a snot nose brat he once took on a bear for his lunch. Animatedly he described how he caught a fish and then beat a bear away to enjoy his captured feast. A face in the crowd piped in asking the age of the King at the time and of the bear. The King nervously laughed as his cheeks grew rosy. A hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck before he sighed and with an honest response, he answered. Admittedly, I was but eight and the bear but a lost cub. His response drew a deep laugh from his listeners as the tension from the journey and the battle of the morrow was eased away, if only temporarily. The infamous bear fight Emaurri had heard that story at least a thousand times by now, yet he still laughed just as much as the others a hand settling upon his goblet. Emaurri had never been one much for drinking and making merry even less so the day before a battle. He would much rather retire to his tent and clear his mind or perhaps perform some last minute rituals to make sure he was ready for the next day. While he could see the merit in socializing with the people that had taken him in and treated him as their own, it was exactly because he owed them so much that he worried about getting drunk on the eve of battle. What if they were attacked overnight? In the end, perhaps his people knew him better than he expected, because the warm ale he was sipping and Raolins warm voice were quick to melt away all of his tension. He was happy to focus on the present for once, and it was good to take a break from his pesky inner voice that always pushed him to worry about what was best for Raolin and for the kingdom. Emaurri! You tell us one now! The Kings voice boomed as he slapped his best friend upon the shoulder in hearty laughter breaking him from his thoughts. The crowd of onlookers voicing agreement for more stories but most especially from the more reserved advisor they had grown to know over the years. It so happened the mage blinked upon finding himself the center of attention, his body pressing forward at the slap Raolin gave him. Oh dear. A story? Are you really certain you want one from me? he questioned, hoping he could still get out of that one but no such luck. He shifted in his seat on a fallen log near the fire, and gave his King a mischievous look. If he was going to be forced into this, he might as well get back at his friend a little Unfortunately Raolin had not realized what he had done until Emaurri had turned to look towards him with a look rivaling that of a mischievous devil. It was in that moment that Raolin let his lips press into a thin line, his warm honey hazel eyes narrowing dangerously as if to dare Emaurri to continue. Raolin knew deep down his look would have no effect on Emaurri decision, however the sly bastard started out by downplaying his own, more eventful life. Im afraid my life is dreadfully boring, lies , but this story was so much more entertaining than some magic mishap that led to Emaurri being nicknamed Lord Blue for a week, So I will tell us one about our beloved King Raolin instead. Raolin scoffed internally but sought to hear out this much more intriguing story of his, if only to preemptively to stop any embarrassment upon his person. As Emaurri started Raolin began to tilt his head sideways, unwittingly, to listen better. His eyes never left Emaurri face as he took a sip from his flask. A look forming as if to say You can still stop this now, but it was all but ignored by Raolin. You see, many years back, our dear King had someone very dear to his heart. he grinned. What was her name? Ah, it doesnt matter, it matters that only she was the fairest girl in the capital. Despite his flowers and chocolates and awkward courting, she never looked twice his way! The camp seemed silent for this, the crackling of the flame, an occasional shuffle of feet, and distant insect life the only indications time had not stood still. Emaurri had never expected his little story would garner so much attention. He stood duly corrected. Intently Raolin tried to recall this fairest beauty from the Capital that he somehow could not get. Raolins brows furrowed together slightly in confusion, his head tilting unconsciously to the side as if begging the name of this so-called person he could not recall from his youth. Did he not remember? Last edited Apr 18, 2024