Choirs sung all night for their king, their voices echoing around Stoneway and into Peter Morrlands bedroom that over looked the city from the highest part of their castle home. He sat at his study desk made out of rich oak, a candle in its holder burning bright with wax dripping down the stick while he read, his fingers tapping lightly on the pages to the song being sung outside. The room was spacious, big but mostly because it was empty. A tall standing bed with golden posts rising from the frame towards the candle chandler that hung proud in the centre of the ceiling was draped with rich red covers made from the finest material found in the city and pushed against the back wall. Floorboards were a dark stained oak the same as the writing desk that sat in front of the window were sunlight falls through during the day however night only allowed for the sickly orange glow of candle sticks; or complete darkness. Then there was a mirror, below there was a dresser, a chair in the corner accompanied by a small bookshelf and then nothing; just emptiness. Peter hated spending too much time in his room due to feeling lost or isolated. It was cold and damp and completely shut off from the rest of his home.
"You should get some sleep" spoke Leytana softly who had been standing in the doorway for the last few minutes to just quietly observe her son like she used to when he was young. He was now a man. Twenty, handsome with soft curly brown hair and emerald eyes just like his dad. She missed the young years.
"I need to read"
"Why? It can wait till morning. It's been a long day"
His mother's voice always made him feel calmer mainly because of the softness it held, only ever heard when she was alone and speaking to her children.
"I'm to be King"
"Yes."
"Yet I know nothing about ruling a Kingdom. But soon I will be sitting in that throne with a crown on my head with people to call my own who expect me to do stuff but yet I don't know how"
"You'll be a great King."
"I'm not ready."
His mother walked gently over to the window, still wearing the dress from earlier, her footsteps so light it was as if she was floating. Out of the window the city of Stoneway lit up by candles set in shacks and homes belonging to their people while choirs, paid by the Morrlands walked in rows down streets singing.
"Listen" Leytana said "Listen to them"
"What?"
Dropping his book shut and his pen in the ink pot he stepped beside his mother who was nearly the same height as him and rested his head on her shoulder. Her soft, cold hand stroking his hair gently, folding carefully behind his ear.
"They're singing for your father. In his memory"
"I know"
"One day that will be you they sing for. In your memory. But until that day you will serve them well and they will respect you. Armies will fall and your kingdom will rise. You'll be written down in books and part of stories grandparents tell their grandchildren of epic tales of fights and wisdom. And when the day comes, I will be no longer around, your time for ruling will come to an end and your people will sing loudly and clear for you before welcoming in one of your children"
"It's a nice story"
"Good. Now sleep" she said closing the window for the singers voices to sound muffled and slightly out of tune.
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Leytana crept silently down the hall past portraits that towered up to the ceiling of brave men who once stood alive now just forgotten stories. Each of them looked hard, faces tense and folding into themselves, jaws sharp and ridged like stone with eyes colourless and cold as ice. All of them painted with the richest of oils by painters around the land and now trapped within the four golden rims of their frames; beasts carved into the woodwork. She stopped suddenly as a gap in the row of faces now seemed almost unbearable, knowing soon her husband's painting would hang proud but unseen by most to just watch over the empty corridor.
"My lady" bowed one of the maids as she scattered past carrying bedsheets in her arms.
Her ladyship unlocked the double doors leading onto the balcony that overlooked Stoneway and stepped outside into the cold, winters air gently brushing against her sensitive skin. She wrapped her fingers around the stone barrier wall and looked up towards the empty blank sky. Clouds covered all stars. It was peaceful now, the choirs had stopped and not a sound could be heard for miles while people slept in their homes. Gentle footsteps approached from behind, the tapping against stone sounding louder in the dark.
"It was a lovely service"
"Shame about the bastard who interrupted" she replied, continuing to look forward knowing the familiar voice.
"He's been forgotten Leytana. Don't let him ruin this day."
"Do you think he would have liked it?"
"No. He would have hated it. But that's the point" he said, the voice getting closer before a man in his twenties now stood next to her, leaning across the banister at the city around. This was Thomas Morrlands. He looked more ragged than usual. His eyes lacking the vibrant blue that they normally held as if they had been washed faint with water. Hair choppy and messed unlike the pushed back curls Thomas wears and Leytana could tell his mind wasn't as sharp as it usually was. His shoulders were sunken into his body while is head hung a little lower. He's always been jealous of James. His legacy, his worth, the respect that he'd receive from others was always greater than anything they'd give to him. By the time Tom was ten even his parents had given up trying to hide their favouritism from the two boys. James was a king in the making. Thomas was his younger brother; nothing more. However this didn't make the loss any easier and now his heart was aching and body feeling numb from the absence of his older mentor and the number of wasted years he'd spent envying him.
"It's beautiful isn't it?"
It was. Stoneway always looked stunning day or night. It's waters bay reflected the candle lights that burned and the moonlight that shone down and rested low on the ripples of the tide. Just the sound of the waves gently washing up towards the beach then crashing against the brick walls and boats tied in the harbour was enough to calm and relax even the greatest of men. The clock tower built high in the middle of the city rose tall from the ground upwards, it's crumbly bricks still holding together the huge clock face that looked over it. Two great giant hands rotated and as they struck at the hour the bell ringer, a prisoner of war held captive, would strike sending a shock of vibrations through the Kingdom.
"It is" Leytana finally answered.
"I've been away for too long"
She nodded in bitter agreement. "We kept inviting you back."
"At least I saw him."
"Yeah." She paused, nails digging into the dirt of the stonework. "You arrive back and then three weeks later he passes; almost like fait"
"What are you suggesting?"
"Nothing! Nothing. Just glad you saw one another again. He was very fond of you"
"As I was him. We're brothers. We look out for each other."
She couldn't help notice Thomas speak in the present 'Look' rather than 'Looked' and it suddenly hit her that it would take them all along time to recover from this loss in their family and maybe she'd been too accuse.
"What I said- I didn't mean-"
"Don't. Please. It's fine, I understand."
Then he lightly touched her palm and then forced his and her fingers to gently interlock, her cold and fragile hand shocked but didn't protest. It was sweet she thought, she enjoyed the little company that she had already begun to miss desperately. Thomas squeezed, Leytana didn't but instead decided to pull away to release themselves before quietly saying goodnight and walking back into the warm.
End of Episode 2:
1. Opinions on the Episode?
2. Opinions on characters?
1. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but based on the "Thoughts?" and "Opinions?" texts that you include in the titles of your stories, I get the feeling that you are self-conscious about your works, or maybe you are looking for validation or something? If this IS the case, I just want to let you know that you have nothing to worry about. You are a very good writer. Don't be self-conscious, and don't let it bother you if someone says otherwise. You should be proud of your art. (:
2. They all seem like good people thus far. It'll be interesting to see how Peter handles lordship.
I'm am self-conscious at times yes due to writing scripts normally and not novel based story writing so your feedback is really lovely to hear:) Also just honestly want to know what people think haha.
2. That made me laugh cos soon your will know how very wrong you are;)
2. They all seem like good people thus far. It'll be interesting to see how Peter handles lordship.