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Chapter 1; Family Ties

“Welcome back. I hope he wasn’t too….” She stopped.

A red cloak looked up at the dark cloaked figure, holding a little bundle in her arms. Her name, was Emineo. She was a pretty wayfarer, her gold embroidery was the classic Rythualin design, with a marking that was very unique upon the front of her hood. She had the black mask, her eyes glowing a soft, pale yellow. She looked up at the Warkin that had entered, and he looked tired, slouching slightly as he stood. Emineo looked at his white mask, and saw a big crack over the front. “….Angry.” She finished in a hushed tone. The tall Warkin sat down in front of her, letting out a sigh. “….I’m sorry, Soldus… Maybe we shouldn’t have-““No, don’t worry. He needed to know. Besides, I plan on leaving the war with you, just like we planned. It’s hopeless on both sides anyway….”

Emineo looked at her precious child in her arms. “…Are you sure he won’t do anything?” Soldus touched his mask lightly, and opened his mouth, testing it to make sure it wouldn’t make it worse. “It’ll be alright, Emineo. He may look scary, but it’s not like he’s a baby killer.”

“He’s still really scary to look at.” “I have to agree with you on that….Does it bother you that I look like him?”

Her eyes crested softly in a smile. She reached out and touched his mask as he closed his mouth quickly. “Soldus, you shouldn’t worry over things like that. We have a child together…Would I have agreed to make him with you if I cared about who you looked like?” He placed his cloth over hers as it rested on the cheek of his mask.

“I suppose you’re right.” His red eyes smiled at her, and he looked at the small bundle in her arms. Its tiny cloak was bright red like his mothers, with the same unique mark on his hood. Its gold embroidery mimicked that of its father, consisting of thick and thin lines. The Clothlings mask was the same ghostly white. The eyes were closed, and black streaks like the markings of the War Machines ran down from the eyes. Emineo had insisted the child look more like his father, and it was a miracle he wasn’t effected by the Corruption at all. At least, he looked normal. And that was exactly what Soldus wanted for his son. Soldus never wanted to be a Warkin, and didn’t want it for his offspring either. He was relieved and very happy to see his child was unaffected. The little bundle in her arms meant everything to him, and it filled his heart symbol with joy every time he laid eyes on him. He hoped he would live a long, happy life. And he would do anything to ensure the safety of his family. Anything.

“We should leave as soon as we can.”

“Wait…What did your father say, exactly?”

“About what you would expect. Get some rest, OK? I want to leave by first light tomorrow.” Emineo gave him a worried look, but she complied. Their child had been kept hidden for the past few weeks, away from Soldus’s father. Xiphias had strict ideals on what a Warkin should be. Soldus, being the way he is, apposed his father in nearly every respect. Soldus was well aware he was considered a disgrace to him. He had always been told that if his mother were still alive, Xiphais would have fed him to the machines and created a better and more fitting heir to Zunichulaque (the family Husk/War Machine). And having a child with an average Ryhtulain no less… Saying Xiphais was disappointed in his son would be a vast understatement. Soldus suspected his father had disowned him from the very start, and he was determined to be a far better father then he ever was.

Emineo took to her cloth hammock, hanging in a small stone structure that was a part of a crumbling city ravaged by war. All was silent for now, but they did have to move around often to keep up with the troops, or avoid battles. Soldus rested on the stone floor, leaning against the stone wall and closing his eyes.

Some hours passed. Soon, a tiny form stirred. It wriggled out from Emineo’s cloak, and she rolled over with a soft sigh. Two wide, black eyes were wide awake, his tiny white mask bobbing in the darkness. He looked around, and looked over the edge of the hammock. He looked back at his mother, seeing she was still asleep. Then he heard a noise. It was the noise that had woken him up. It was a soft tinkling sound, and he looked at the curtain that blocked the door, to see a polished stone roll towards him, and clink into another one on the floor below. They were painted and completely round stones, and naturally, he took a liking to them. He reached down to them, and with a soft peep, he fell over the edge. He sat up and shook himself, and his eyes drew back to the pretty toys. He picked one up, a blue one. He liked this one the best. He looked to see another roll in. He watched it and picked it up.

He looked at it, and back to the door. He blinked and wondered where they were coming from. His tiny cloak holding as many of the stones as he could, his little feet padded out to the hard, dry ground outside. He looked around, but saw nothing. Other buildings were present, but they were far off. Maybe a new friend had given it to him? Maybe he couldn’t see them. They could be shy.

He stood and looked around, then he heard another sound. It was a thud. He turned around and saw another stone. It had landed in the dirt outside the door to his house, and he looked at it. He peeped happily, and tried to pick it up, but his cloak was full, so he ended up spilling all of them. He picked up his favorite blue one, and looked at the rest of them, looking a little frustrated.

“I could help you carry those.”

A deep voice said. He looked up, clutching his stone to his chest. He didn’t understand very many words yet, but he did know his parents….And this person look like his father.

A white mask peered down at the little clothling, his red eyes glowing softly with red markings raining down his mask. His long cloak dragged behind him, as well as his scarf that was so long, it seemed to vanish into the dunes behind him.

He crouched down, and looked him up and down.

The little one stared at him with wide, black eyes. He peeped happily and held out the blue stone, as if showing him what he found.

“Yes, that stone is quite lovely. Tell you what, you should come with me, and I can give you all the little painted stones you want.” He reached into his satchel and showed him three more stones. He chirped in delight, associating the pretty things with this individual, and now trusted him. Xiphias smiled and picked him up.

“What a delightful child. Let’s go for a walk, shall we? I’ll have you back before your parents can worry.” He held him to his chest, all the while holding his little treasure. Xiphias took him to a collapsed archway, a small opening revealing darkness beyond. He took him inside, walking down some worn steps to a long hall. He walked deeper, until he was in a forgotten chamber with a few broken lanterns scattered about. He set him on a large stone slab that acted as a table, and picked up a lantern that was still functioning. He set it on the table, and pulled out some supplies from his clay pot he used to store things in. He had recently bought these things today especially for this moment.

He looked at the tools in his hands, and smiled to himself. He placed them on the table and spread them out. He spoke to the child, despite the fact he couldn’t understand.

“Your father has no idea how ungrateful he is. I gave him the means to be a great warrior, a successor to great things. But he is foolish, and wastes his abilities. But you…You are still young. You still have the potential to be what your father is not, and I am going to help you achieve that.”

His tiny black eyes looked up at him, and held out his little blue stone, showing it off again. Xiphias smiled and leaned closer. “Yes….That stone is very lovely….”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Emineo woke up. She felt around. She bolted upright. She looked about the room, unable to see her child or Soldus anywhere. She ran up to the curtain and pushed it aside. The sun was rising, and she saw Soldus, sitting down and huddling with…Something. Her chest filled with dread as she ran up to him. She looked into his arms, and saw a nearly lifeless bundle. Soldus quickly handed him to her, and explained. “He’s still alive….He’s just in some pain.” She took him in her cloak frantically, and looked him over. He looked just fine, and she couldn’t find any wounds on him….Did he wander off and something hurt him somehow? She held him close and let the warmth of her heart symbol comfort him, and looked at Soldus.

“Where was he?”

“I just found him a few moments ago. He was just…Laying on the ground.” Emineo was frantic. She sobbed and held him close, while Soldus hugged her. “I’m not sure what happened, but I do know it’s time for us to leave. We can’t stay here.”

Out of sight from Emineo, Soldus crumpled up a piece of parchment behind his back that read;

I’ll return for him, no matter where you run to. He cannot escape his potential as my new son.

Your loving father,
--X
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm not much of a writer really I just really wanted to get the ball rolling, so here is the first chapter. Hope you enjoy the read
next chapter--> Chapter 2

art (c) me
story (c) me
characters (c) me

Description
Chapter 1; Family Ties

“Welcome back. I hope he wasn’t too….” She stopped.

A red cloak looked up at the dark cloaked figure, holding a little bundle in her arms. Her name, was Emineo. She was a pretty wayfarer, her gold embroidery was the classic Rythualin design, with a marking that was very unique upon the front of her hood. She had the black mask, her eyes glowing a soft, pale yellow. She looked up at the Warkin that had entered, and he looked tired, slouching slightly as he stood. Emineo looked at his white mask, and saw a big crack over the front. “….Angry.” She finished in a hushed tone. The tall Warkin sat down in front of her, letting out a sigh. “….I’m sorry, Soldus… Maybe we shouldn’t have-““No, don’t worry. He needed to know. Besides, I plan on leaving the war with you, just like we planned. It’s hopeless on both sides anyway….”

Emineo looked at her precious child in her arms. “…Are you sure he won’t do anything?” Soldus touched his mask lightly, and opened his mouth, testing it to make sure it wouldn’t make it worse. “It’ll be alright, Emineo. He may look scary, but it’s not like he’s a baby killer.”

“He’s still really scary to look at.” “I have to agree with you on that….Does it bother you that I look like him?”

Her eyes crested softly in a smile. She reached out and touched his mask as he closed his mouth quickly. “Soldus, you shouldn’t worry over things like that. We have a child together…Would I have agreed to make him with you if I cared about who you looked like?” He placed his cloth over hers as it rested on the cheek of his mask.

“I suppose you’re right.” His red eyes smiled at her, and he looked at the small bundle in her arms. Its tiny cloak was bright red like his mothers, with the same unique mark on his hood. Its gold embroidery mimicked that of its father, consisting of thick and thin lines. The Clothlings mask was the same ghostly white. The eyes were closed, and black streaks like the markings of the War Machines ran down from the eyes. Emineo had insisted the child look more like his father, and it was a miracle he wasn’t effected by the Corruption at all. At least, he looked normal. And that was exactly what Soldus wanted for his son. Soldus never wanted to be a Warkin, and didn’t want it for his offspring either. He was relieved and very happy to see his child was unaffected. The little bundle in her arms meant everything to him, and it filled his heart symbol with joy every time he laid eyes on him. He hoped he would live a long, happy life. And he would do anything to ensure the safety of his family. Anything.

“We should leave as soon as we can.”

“Wait…What did your father say, exactly?”

“About what you would expect. Get some rest, OK? I want to leave by first light tomorrow.” Emineo gave him a worried look, but she complied. Their child had been kept hidden for the past few weeks, away from Soldus’s father. Xiphias had strict ideals on what a Warkin should be. Soldus, being the way he is, apposed his father in nearly every respect. Soldus was well aware he was considered a disgrace to him. He had always been told that if his mother were still alive, Xiphais would have fed him to the machines and created a better and more fitting heir to Zunichulaque (the family Husk/War Machine). And having a child with an average Ryhtulain no less… Saying Xiphais was disappointed in his son would be a vast understatement. Soldus suspected his father had disowned him from the very start, and he was determined to be a far better father then he ever was.

Emineo took to her cloth hammock, hanging in a small stone structure that was a part of a crumbling city ravaged by war. All was silent for now, but they did have to move around often to keep up with the troops, or avoid battles. Soldus rested on the stone floor, leaning against the stone wall and closing his eyes.

Some hours passed. Soon, a tiny form stirred. It wriggled out from Emineo’s cloak, and she rolled over with a soft sigh. Two wide, black eyes were wide awake, his tiny white mask bobbing in the darkness. He looked around, and looked over the edge of the hammock. He looked back at his mother, seeing she was still asleep. Then he heard a noise. It was the noise that had woken him up. It was a soft tinkling sound, and he looked at the curtain that blocked the door, to see a polished stone roll towards him, and clink into another one on the floor below. They were painted and completely round stones, and naturally, he took a liking to them. He reached down to them, and with a soft peep, he fell over the edge. He sat up and shook himself, and his eyes drew back to the pretty toys. He picked one up, a blue one. He liked this one the best. He looked to see another roll in. He watched it and picked it up.

He looked at it, and back to the door. He blinked and wondered where they were coming from. His tiny cloak holding as many of the stones as he could, his little feet padded out to the hard, dry ground outside. He looked around, but saw nothing. Other buildings were present, but they were far off. Maybe a new friend had given it to him? Maybe he couldn’t see them. They could be shy.

He stood and looked around, then he heard another sound. It was a thud. He turned around and saw another stone. It had landed in the dirt outside the door to his house, and he looked at it. He peeped happily, and tried to pick it up, but his cloak was full, so he ended up spilling all of them. He picked up his favorite blue one, and looked at the rest of them, looking a little frustrated.

“I could help you carry those.”

A deep voice said. He looked up, clutching his stone to his chest. He didn’t understand very many words yet, but he did know his parents….And this person look like his father.

A white mask peered down at the little clothling, his red eyes glowing softly with red markings raining down his mask. His long cloak dragged behind him, as well as his scarf that was so long, it seemed to vanish into the dunes behind him.

He crouched down, and looked him up and down.

The little one stared at him with wide, black eyes. He peeped happily and held out the blue stone, as if showing him what he found.

“Yes, that stone is quite lovely. Tell you what, you should come with me, and I can give you all the little painted stones you want.” He reached into his satchel and showed him three more stones. He chirped in delight, associating the pretty things with this individual, and now trusted him. Xiphias smiled and picked him up.

“What a delightful child. Let’s go for a walk, shall we? I’ll have you back before your parents can worry.” He held him to his chest, all the while holding his little treasure. Xiphias took him to a collapsed archway, a small opening revealing darkness beyond. He took him inside, walking down some worn steps to a long hall. He walked deeper, until he was in a forgotten chamber with a few broken lanterns scattered about. He set him on a large stone slab that acted as a table, and picked up a lantern that was still functioning. He set it on the table, and pulled out some supplies from his clay pot he used to store things in. He had recently bought these things today especially for this moment.

He looked at the tools in his hands, and smiled to himself. He placed them on the table and spread them out. He spoke to the child, despite the fact he couldn’t understand.

“Your father has no idea how ungrateful he is. I gave him the means to be a great warrior, a successor to great things. But he is foolish, and wastes his abilities. But you…You are still young. You still have the potential to be what your father is not, and I am going to help you achieve that.”

His tiny black eyes looked up at him, and held out his little blue stone, showing it off again. Xiphias smiled and leaned closer. “Yes….That stone is very lovely….”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Emineo woke up. She felt around. She bolted upright. She looked about the room, unable to see her child or Soldus anywhere. She ran up to the curtain and pushed it aside. The sun was rising, and she saw Soldus, sitting down and huddling with…Something. Her chest filled with dread as she ran up to him. She looked into his arms, and saw a nearly lifeless bundle. Soldus quickly handed him to her, and explained. “He’s still alive….He’s just in some pain.” She took him in her cloak frantically, and looked him over. He looked just fine, and she couldn’t find any wounds on him….Did he wander off and something hurt him somehow? She held him close and let the warmth of her heart symbol comfort him, and looked at Soldus.

“Where was he?”

“I just found him a few moments ago. He was just…Laying on the ground.” Emineo was frantic. She sobbed and held him close, while Soldus hugged her. “I’m not sure what happened, but I do know it’s time for us to leave. We can’t stay here.”

Out of sight from Emineo, Soldus crumpled up a piece of parchment behind his back that read;

I’ll return for him, no matter where you run to. He cannot escape his potential as my new son.

Your loving father,
--X
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm not much of a writer really I just really wanted to get the ball rolling, so here is the first chapter. Hope you enjoy the read
next chapter--> Chapter 2

art (c) me
story (c) me
characters (c) me