Authors Note: This is one of the stories I was considering re-writing / finishing as part of NaNoWriMo this year. It was originally written in 2012 and was the inspiration for the setting of a Savage Worlds Campaign I ran. Though I decided not to finish it for NaNoWriMo year, I hope to work on it again someday, so I figured I would share. Be advised this is a rough draft and I only fixed some of the blatant mistakes.
The War for Hikryela
She surveyed the ruins around her. The sounds of gunfire could still be heard in the background, but in the immediate area the only sound was the crackle of flames and her footsteps through the rubble. What was once a lush and vibrant land was nothing more than ruins now.
Climbing over the debris her colorful summer dress very quickly blackened to match the surroundings. She took comfort in the fact that she saw no bodies, though she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
The attack came suddenly, lightning flashed across the sky and a roll of thunder echoed across the land, and there they were, spreading destruction in their wake. Their strange vehicles came roaring over the ground, spitting noxious black smoke into the air and running down those soldiers who tried to hold their ground, their weapons clanging harmlessly off the vehicle’s armor.
The soldiers soon scattered and the villagers fled leaving the invaders to do as they pleased. The princess hid as even the royal guard was routed, staying in hiding until the sounds of the fighting moved on.
Walking through the still smoking remains of the town green she once more heard the cruel rumble of their carriages. Turning in a circle she saw the smoke approaching rapidly and knew there was no place to hide or to run. Gathering her courage she readied a broken sword she had found and stood her ground determined to fall with pride.
The black SUV tore across the ground, its powerful wheels rolling over the rubble, its gunner destroying anything which might seriously hinder the vehicle. The wind carried the roar of the engine and the cries of excitement from the men within. Seeing the lone figure standing in the field they stepped on the accelerator and charged forward faster.
The distance closed to the point where the girl could see the faces of those inside. She gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on her sword though it was barely more than a hilt, the sword had cracked in two when one of the guard tried to strike another such machine as what bore down at her.
As it was virtually upon her, a high whine could suddenly be heard over the roar. The flurry of activity which followed was a blur, there was a bang and a loud cracking sound and next thing she knew the air was forced out of her lungs as she was snatched off her feet. She struggled to regain her breath as the ground flew by and the sound of gunfire chased after her.
By the time she regained her senses she found herself gracelessly clutched to a strangers chest on a vehicle whose type she had never seen before. Similar in size to a pony it moved on two wheels with a high pitched whine. The rider was garbed in similar clothes to those who attacked, some sort of strange, form fitting armor and a jacket made of leather. He wore a helmet like she had never seen, pitch black with no visible opening.
Becoming aware of his breath and the pounding of her own heart her position dawned on her and she began to struggle. Pounding on his chest and trying to break free, ignorant of the ground moving past far faster then while on horseback. The rider swerved violently but kept both his balance and grip before tossing up a plume of dirt with the wheels and coming to a sudden stop where he unceremoniously dropped her, letting her fall to the ground.
Straightening his legs and balancing his vehicle with them the rider looked at the girl before reaching up and removing his helmet. His closely cut brown hair was damp with sweat and his eyes appraised her with the hardened stare of a warrior. She had trouble meeting his gaze, though when she did she sensed a hint of sadness within his eyes.
His voice was deep when he spoke, but rather than the gruff sound she expected there was a softness to it, as if he were addressing a child. She was torn between wanting to scold him for disrespect and wanting to crawl back into his arms for comfort. He addressed her as girl, for though she was an adult he obviously had several years on her, “Girl, can you understand me?”
Though his accent was strange she nodded.
“This place isn’t safe,” gesturing to her broken sword which lay nearby on the ground, “you can’t stop them with weapons like that.” As if to emphasize his point, she realized the arm of his jacket was damp with blood from where her blade cut him yet he seemed oblivious to it.
“I can take you to safety, but we won’t get there if you insist on struggling.” He reached out his hand to her, and she gingerly reached up and took it. With a tug she found herself lifted back on the machine and seated in front of him, despite lifting her with his injured arm, he still showed no sign of pain.”
He placed the helmet back on his head, gave a quick twist of his wrist on the handle and a kick with his foot and the vehicle rumbled and began to shake. Tossing dirt behind its wheels they sped off into the distance.
Originally published at https://www.narrative.org on October 31, 2019.
