The Tower - A short story

29.09.2005


The wind rustles through the leaves, a cool breeze, echoing through the night. I walk through the trees, sticks cracking and leaves crunching with each careful footstep. The moon is bright above the earth, illuminating my path through the woods. It is chilly out, a cold that nips the skin and dries the eyes. The wind rustles through my hair, waving it about. I force my way forward, for I have a mission to accomplish.

I walk. Five minutes pass. Then ten. Then fifteen. Finally, after twenty minutes, I come to a clearing in the forest. The flora clears out, and the dirt floor gives way to thin, brown grass. Midway between the forest walls, a stone keep rises above the treetops. It is old, its roof is rotting, the old door is falling off it’s hinges. As I approach the tower, the wind picks up; gusts of frozen air strong enough to knock a man off his feet. I force myself through the door, into the hayloft. Torches burn amidst the small chamber, small fires illuminating the room and the staircase to the side of loft.

I walk up the tall, twisting flight of stairs. The steps are thin and flimsy, each one creaking with every step I take. I climb, and the stairs seem to have no end. Finally, I reach the top, and in my path stands a heavy oak door. I reach for my key ring, and insert its key into the lock. It clicks, and I push my way through.

As I enter, a man’s head springs towards the door, his eyes jolting at me. He is blonde and handsome, a knight of renowned valor. Behind him is a lady, blond haired and blue eyed? She’s young and beautiful, her long hair streaming down her back and past her waist. A look of shock comes across her face, and the knight moves in my way. His mouth opens as if to say something, but no sound is emitted from his throat.

“Do not speak, knight, for you will need your energy to defend your life.” I say reaching for my sword. I slowly unsheathe it, a fine instrument of death, that has lasted me through many battles. Its handle is etched with a mark for each life it has taken, yet the blade is as sharp as a razor.

“My dear man, spare us. I swear upon my word of honor, if you do, you shall never hear of us again,” the knight says, his hand resting on the handle of his broadsword. He looked scared, for he, in nothing but his robes, faced one of the most infamous assassins of the land. A grin came across my lips.

“I fear I cannot, for I have my order, and if I were to disobey, it would be my neck held at swords tip, in stead of yours. I shall do what I must do, as you will do what you must.” And with that, I slowly advanced towards him. Rage filled his eyes, and he pounced forward, as if to overpower me. His body plunged right onto my blade, and I pushed the rapier through his skin and flesh, until the blade poked from his back. He gasped, blood beginning to trickle from his mouth. I hammered the blade in deeper, and he cried for mercy. But it was too late. I pulled my blade from his body, and as he fell, my sword arm fell, cleaving through his throat. He grabbed at the new wound, but death had already begun to touch his smooth forehead. As he fell to the ground, he silently died.

I turned, pressing my blade against the lady’s throat. My breath seemed to flow through me, heavy and violent, as if I was exhausted. But I had not even begun to tire. She pleaded with me.

“Dear Sir, you have taken all that I love from me, but please, leave me be, so that I may wallow in my misery. For my love is dead, and the man that I swore my life to has been away for years. I am but a slave to love, and now my master has tore from me my only true love. But please, kind Sir, spare me” she begged, tears pouring down her face. I felt pity for her, but I had no other choice. I responded to her,

“Do not implore me for mercy or ask me for forgiveness, for it is neither my place to hear these pathetic wailings, nor is it my place to accept them. I have orders to make you pay for your actions, nay, this is no one’s fault but your own. And now, my dear Lady, you will see the consequences of your behavior.” I swung my sword back, preparing to take her head clean off. But she ducked, and plunged at my feet, throwing me off balance. I dropped my sword; it clattered to the ground, resting peacefully on the floor as I drew my dagger. She tried to stand up, but I kicked her, sending her to the ground again. My foot pressed against her throat as I spoke, “The fight so short, the kill so easy. Do not even dare fight it, for you cannot win.”

Barely able to breath, she blurted out the words, “You monster, you have killed my only true love. Why must you persist?”

“My dear, I am not a bad man, nor am I a monster. I simply the arm of justice. I may not be bad, but I am a butcher, and human life means nothing to me. So, if there is any god you believe in, you may wish to speak to him now, instead of wasting your last moments on me.” And with that, I pulled her off the ground, throwing her against a wall. I plunged the dagger into her back, piercing through flesh and bone, severing tendons and muscles. She died quickly, falling to the ground. Her blood moistened the vanilla carpet, and it dripped from my dagger, creating a path of droplets that would show my path from that point on. I sighed with relief; I have finally completed my objective. I walked over to my rapier, and bent over to pick it up. I sliced through the wood on the handle, two more kills to add to my collection.

I sheathed my sword, and quickly walked out of the room. I descended the flight of stairs with haste, and once I had reached the hayloft, I finally knew that there was one thing I still must do. I grabbed a torch, and dropped it into the hay. A fire started quickly, and spread throughout the wooden structure of the tower. Before I reached the forest walls, flames shot from every window and door, crack and crevice of the tower. The place had turned into an inferno, cremating the Princess and her lover. I look at it one last time, and thought:

Burn Whore-tower. Never has such a vile place existed, and such places cannot be allowed to be on this earth unmolested. For a place where a wife of one of our dear Princes can engage in adultery is truly a house of ill-repute, a demonic building. And for that, Burn, Whore-tower. Burn.

Very interesting, Kaiser of Arabia. A good blend of description and dialogue. The description is especially good.

However, I thought the main character, in fact all the characters, stayed a bit distant. The only emotional act of the assassin is the burning of the tower, and this is in shrill contrast with the efficient, "I have a job to do"-approach to the double kill. Similarly, one might wonder why a woman who has just seen her beloved butchered is still able to speak in such a collected and rational manner.

But otherwise it is very good. You definetily have a talent for writing.

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Originally Posted by Ludens

Very interesting, Kaiser of Arabia. A good blend of description and dialogue. The description is especially good.

However, I thought the main character, in fact all the characters, stayed a bit distant. The only emotional act of the assassin is the burning of the tower, and this is in shrill contrast with the efficient, "I have a job to do"-approach to the double kill. Similarly, one might wonder why a woman who has just seen her beloved butchered is still able to speak in such a collected and rational manner.

But otherwise it is very good. You definetily have a talent for writing.

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Thanks, Ludens. It's not really complete yet, I wrote most of it during a particularly boring Trigonomitry Class.

I may turn this into a short series, so we can watch the main character (who's an Assassin for one of the German kings during the Dark Ages) change from cold hearted assassin to deeply disturbed assassin, and then witness his eventual death that occurs because of this change. The burning of the tower I stole from Megaherz though, and I thought it added a nice touch.

The thing with the woman, well, I guess that the man was not really her beloved. More or less, he was just someone who could satisfy her. That's somthing I want to expand on.~:cheers:

I'll update it when I get a chance.

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The thing with the woman, well, I guess that the man was not really her beloved. More or less, he was just someone who could satisfy her. That's somthing I want to expand on.~:cheers:

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What I meant was that she is still able to speak calmly and even accusingly, after the only person who could protect her was cut down in front of her eyes.

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Originally Posted by Kaiser of Arabia

I may turn this into a short series, so we can watch the main character (who's an Assassin for one of the German kings during the Dark Ages) change from cold hearted assassin to deeply disturbed assassin, and then witness his eventual death that occurs because of this change.

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Sounds very interesting, though it may be tricky to pull it off. I am looking forward to the update.

I'll try to get an update up soon, I need to find some time to write.