Hero - a Short Story
 

It's a short story I wrote for my Creative Writing Class. I would love some feedback on it ^.^ Since I normally write fanfiction this was actually quite a challange ^^;

(It's really long so I'll post it in seperate posts according to the breaks I have in it.)

Hero

They said a hero would save us. I asked when. They said soon. They lied. A hero never came. No one came to save us. And I just can’t wait any longer.

--
I could feel myself cringing even before the whip bit into my flesh, beating into the scars already formed from years of the constant abuse. The same ratty, brown rope with salt soaked into the cordage so even after the hit the pain would remain. After just the first three strokes I could feel the blood running rivers down my back and dropping to the dead earth below.

When had this all started? It seemed like it had always been here, this torment. But I know it hadn’t always been this way. It’s only been like this the past sixteen years. For me, that’s nearly my lifetime. Delano was the cause of this. I was told that before he came we were a peaceful village that traded with other small communities around the Pachikun Mountains. No one was rich, but no one was poor and everyone was happy. But then he appeared one day, his face as leery as a shark and his words poison. He announced that unless we submitted to his rule and obeyed him we would be killed.

Many people rebelled. My parents were some of them. And he killed them all. Just ended their lives with hardly breaking a sweat. Two hundred and seventeen people died that day. The rest of us were forced to be taken from our homeland, and were brought to the barren lands of the Shishin Desert to be worked to our deaths building Delano’s empire.

There was always a legend though; passed down through the people that one day a hero would appear to save us all. But no one has ever shown face to solve our problem. No one has once dared challenge Delano after the initial rebellion. He’s as strong as steel and with hundreds of loyal guards at his side there is no way someone could even get to him before being cut down. Is it really just a legend with no truth behind it? Just something made up so we wouldn’t all fall into deeper despair? It isn’t working now. Nothing will work now. Who would ever challenge a ruthless man like Delano and live to tell the tale?

The ground gradually began to blur beneath me and I felt my hands being loosened from their bindings before I hit the ground with a thud, no energy left to even consider standing. A vicious kick to my side with a few choice words muttered before I was left alone while the guards moved on to the next rebel.

“Let’s get you out of here,” whispered a soft voice, gentle hands encircling my arms. “You’ve got to stand though, I can’t lift you.” I forced myself to my feet and stumbled along beside as I always did. And just like every other time, Atira brought me to her little hut she shared with her parents and got out the large Yukta leaves to plaster over my newest injuries.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” she asked as she carefully finished her bandaging. “You’re not changing anything, Bijan. You’re just hurting yourself.”

I turned to look at her over my shoulder, her large brown doe eyes filling up with tears while she chewed on her lip to keep them from falling. I struggled to sit up and then hunched over since leaning on anything was out of the question. “If I don’t try, Atira, then
Delano has truly won. As long as there are some people who will rebel despite how pathetic,” I said, hissing the last word, “our attempts are he’ll know he hasn’t broken everyone’s spirit.”

“But you don’t have to sacrifice yourself! I don’t… I don’t want you to die. Remember how they said a hero would come to save us? What happens if that hero appears tomorrow but you died because you couldn’t wait?” Without even having to touch her, I could tell she was shaking, with fear or worry or possibly both I wasn’t sure.

“Atira,” I said softly, meeting her eyes, “I don’t think a hero is going to come.“ Her brown orbs widened and a soft sob escaped from her throat. “ If someone was going to come he would have already. I think… I think the hero is going to be someone from here, someone who knows our suffering first hand and will rebel and take down Delano.” I paused before continuing. “I think I could be the hero.”

The silence after my remark was deafening. “No,” she said softly, shaking her head slowly and gradually faster as her many dark braids whirled around her head. “Don’t be foolish! You’ll be killed!”

“And why shouldn’t I? Look at our lives now! They’re pathetic! Working every waking minute for Delano and never knowing if he might decide to kill you for fun. I’m sick of waiting! We can’t expect someone to just appear and make everything all right! I’m not going to sit here any longer and watch as everyone lives for no reason! I’ll stop him. And if I don’t…then at least I know I tried. At least I tried to make a difference.”

“Look at yourself!” she protested, handing me a bowl of water in which to gaze at my reflection. What swam to the surface was a boy of nearly eighteen, bronze skin riddled with scars, black hair falling across his eyes, which were a piercing ebony. My frame wasn’t skeletal, but it was nowhere near muscular either. “You’re in no condition to fight!”

I glared at my reflection before shoving the bowl into Atira’s hands, the water sloshing over the rim at the sudden motion. “I will fight,” I said firmly. “I’m not just going to sit back any longer. I’ll train until I’m strong enough and then I’ll kill Delano. Don’t even try to stop me. I will fight until either he’s dead… or I am.”

Atira has been ignoring me. When I nearly ran into her yesterday, she sidestepped and continued on her way, eyes shadowed and smile gone. I was the one who did that. I extinguished her light. But I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t take back what I said… I refuse to give up. I can’t give up.

It’s been nearly a week and there’s no progress. None in getting back Atira’s friendship or finding someone who can teach me how to wield a sword. I’m out of luck if I can’t find the second one, since I obviously can’t just go up to Delano with no way to defend or attack. But if I don’t end up finding a teacher, then Atira will be happy with me again. I hope.

Searching for a teacher hasn’t been easy. I can’t exactly put up a ‘Swords training needed’ sign as the guards would tear it down and I’d most likely be killed. And the fact that its been years since anyone has wielded a sword, most people have forgotten or have had their swords taken away. No weapons are allowed, after all.

I thought I was having some success. I’d managed to find two of the villagers who used to sword train and I’d gone to them for help. The first had slammed the door so quickly in my face I lost some skin on my nose. The second though… He was leery and I got a sense of unease. But he had said ‘maybe’ and told me he’d contact me with his answer tonight and he was my only chance.

It’s nearing nine now and I’m still waiting patiently for him, Loki, to show. Instead who I see approaching is a pair of guards, their hardened eyes as strong as the armor coating their chests. I resist the urge to run, my feet already digging into the sand to prepare for flight. For all I know they aren’t even coming at me… just walking down the path. And if I run I look guilty.

As they came closer, I realized I should have run. They were looking directly at me and then back at a piece of paper in hand, which occurred to me must have been my picture. I turned to flee, just as they started shouting.

“You are under arrest for the attempt to-”

I didn’t stick around to hear the rest, my feet already churning the golden sand as I hightailed it out of there. The only problem though, is the guards have these shoes that allow them to run over the sand and not sink into it. Unless you’re on a hard-packed road, it’s difficult to get away. And the same held true here.

I yelped as I felt one of their spears dig into my leg and then my face met the ground as one of the guards jumped and tackled me. Struggling, I tried to worm out of their grasp, flailing and punching at whatever I could.

“LET ME GO!” I screamed, tears of frustration building in my eyes as their holds remained firm, bruising grips tightening. “B*s*a*ds! (**not sure if that language is allowed here or not ^^; )LET GO!”

The familiar sensation of coarse rope scratching against my wrists was felt as they bound my hands behind my back, this time tighter than normal. I was hauled to my feet, my left leg not even supporting my weight because of the deep stab wound. The malicious grins on the guards’ faces sickened me, and I felt my heart plummet as I realized I wasn’t likely to get out of this alive.

One hundred lashes was my punishment. If I lived, I lived. And if I died… I died. The same ratty rope was used, although it felt as though the guards were trying to break me in half with the force of their hits. After thirty I lost count, my body screaming in protest and tears dripping down my cheeks. Blood was dripping from my mouth… I had bit through my tongue to try and stop myself from screaming. Best not to let them have my cries to increase their reward.

I would find myself drifting in and out of consciousness, woken up every few lashes as a new bucket of saltwater was dumped over my wounds. They didn’t want me escaping from my punishment. A crowd had gathered to watch… not by their choice though. I was to be an example, to squash anyone else’s thoughts of trying to be the hero. I had looked for Atira, but she had been invisible to me. And after the first few minutes, I hadn’t had the strength to look up and continue searching.

Would she ever forgive me?

The sky was now black, it was approaching midnight. I was still alive. I think. Maybe. Being dead would be better though. It felt as though I was drowning in a pool of my own blood, my whole back and even parts of my arms a mass of bleeding, torn of flesh. Rough hands untied the rope, holding me both upright and my hands together and I fell to the ground with a thud and a slight splash. Drowning couldn’t have been that far off.
When I opened my eyes, everything was out of focus and my stomach heaved at the now overwhelming scent of blood as it flowed over my face, a sticky and wet mess. Choking, I turned my head just enough to let me breathe in actual air.

Was I going to die now? After I had survived my beating, was I going to die in my own blood? From exposure to the freezing cold desert night? Atira flashed in my mind, her warm smile and dancing eyes welcome and loving. Just as quickly though she was replaced with the Atira from earlier, eyes vacant and face cold. Would Atira rescue me? Rescue me like she’d done all those times before?

No… Why would she come? She’d told me how she felt about my decision. She would say I deserved this. Wouldn’t she? Maybe. Maybe not. I wanted to think more of her than that, but if she was seen helping me she’d be punished too. Punished for my actions.

So when I heard footsteps, light and soft and completely unlike the guards heavy boots, my hope flared for the briefest moment. But it couldn’t be her… she wouldn’t come…

“Bijan?” Her voice was like a drop of Heaven. Worried and heavy with tears, but sweet as honey and as soothing as a cold hand on a fevered brow. “Bijan?” she whispered, voice cracking as I felt her place a hand on my head.

I tried to speak, but my lips wouldn’t form any words and I couldn’t even control my body to lift a finger. I opted for trying to make any noise I could with my mouth, a low, garbled groan the result.

“Oh my God…oh my God. Bijan, can you hear me?” Her voice was trembling as much as her fingers as she turned my head so I could see her. Her eyes, sparkling like diamonds shimmered down upon me, tears dropping onto my face like liquid crystal. That was the last thing I saw, as her face began to blur until there was absolutely nothing. Only darkness with red lightning full of pain that followed me on my downward spiral.

I wasn’t sure what was happening. I kept seeing Atira being whipped, her body in place of mine. Images of pools of blood. Atira weeping. They all came and went as quickly as the tide, pausing only long enough for me to remember them.

And then there was light. Soft, warm light seeming to fill me up and then pour out. So bright, that when I tried to open my eyes I was almost blinded. So I kept them closed, relishing in that unseen warmth and wondering if this was what Heaven felt like. I became aware of something, a hand, squeezing my own. I gave a gentle squeeze back, and was returned with a soft gasp.

“Bijan? Are you awake?”

“Atira?” I mumbled, lips heavy but finally forming words. I forced my eyes open against the brightness, rewarded with Atira’s face, grin nearly splitting it, gazing upon me. “What-?”

“I’m so glad,” she whispered, clutching my hand tighter, several of her braids coming lose to brush against my forehead. “I thought you weren’t going to make it. I tried everything… and you finally started to pull through a few days ago. I’m so glad,” she said again, eyes drinking me in.

“Few days?” I repeated, trying to sit up, but she forced me, albeit gently, back down onto what I realized was her bed.

“You’ve been here for almost two weeks,” she said softly, leaning backwards and filling a glass of water. Raising it to my lips with her other hand lifting my head she continued, obviously not seeing or ignoring the indignant look I was giving her at being treated like an invalid. Which I was, but that wasn’t quite the point. “I had Miamee come and look at you and she said you probably wouldn’t make it.” Atira took a shuddering breath and then smiled. “I’m glad she was wrong. So much for being the know-it-all-doctor, huh? And I have some more news. Amsties. You know, the carpenter guy? He said…” she lowered her voice, bending so her lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers though my body, “he’d teach you how to fight.”

I gasped, and turned to look at her, our eyes meeting and not wavering. “You’re…you’re okay with that?”

She nodded. “I’m still not happy, mark that, Bijan. But it’s what you want to do and I’m not going to dash your hopes. Nor am I going to sit back and let you endure it alone… I did that already and you almost…” she trailed off. “Anycase, I’m not leaving you on your own. So you get me and Amsties.”

I grinned. “Sounds perfect to me.”

-- (not long enough to post seperately ^^;)

That was six months ago. I’ve been training with Amsties ever since I was able to finally move without opening up all of my injuries. And Atira nagged me every time she thought I’d worked too hard and I was forced to sit and take a break.

I first learned how to properly hold the sword and then the basics with it. Amsties was a good teacher, patient and very, very talented. I wish I’d found him before the whole incident had to happen. He informed me though that it was because I survived that and I had the guts to even attempt such a ‘fool-hardy’ task that he had taken me on. He said he didn’t train weaklings. His sword skills were amazing, but it was nothing compared to what he could do in Tiendo (street-fighting’s more formal name). What encouraged me most was how Delano was known for his sword fighting, but never had his Tiendo skills been mentioned. I doubted he had horrible ones, but if I could learn them exceptionally well I might have a trick for him up my sleeve.

There was one thing that bothered me. If Amsties was so powerful, why had he allowed himself and everyone else to be subjected to Delano’s rule. He had told me, a deep sigh penetrating the quiet of the night, that if he was found out his entire family would be killed. And he couldn’t leave his three children and his wife all alone if he were to make a run for it. Now though, his children were older and if need arose they could try and escape if he was caught training with me. But he wouldn’t go to the capital where Delano was. He didn’t want to take that much of a risk.

I’d like to call myself a Tiendo master, but that’d be lying. According to Amsties though, I wasn’t all that bad. And coming from him, that meant a lot. I would have loved to train even more, to make sure I had a complete understanding, but my time was cut short. News came to us via travelers from the capital, stating that Delano was nearly finished building his empire and had no need of us, no need of the laborers. And he would be coming to eliminate us all soon. What use did we hold now? He already had an army and we wouldn’t fight for him anyway.

Amsties and I discussed, and agreed that it would be my best bet to fight Delano when he came to our village. There was no need for me to tire myself getting to the capital and then have to fight on unfamiliar ground on top of it. And from the wave of people passing through the village every night and getting past the guards if they were lucky, Delano would be here in no time.

Atira and I spent every sunset together, sitting on the warm dunes and staring in the direction opposite of where Delano would emerge. There was no need to spend our quiet moments waiting to see his villainous face. It was nearing dusk now, and I knew that we’d both have to head back to our houses, lest the guards think we were running and cut us down. As I moved to get up though, Atira’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, effectively ending my rise.

“Bijan?” she whispered. “You won’t leave me, will you?” She looked so small and frail at that instant, like a tumbleweed that would be blown away with a breath of wind. Her face looked so shadowed, her eyes shining with unshed tears with her drooping braids framing her face. “Right, Bijan?”

I knelt down in front of her and gathered both of her hands in mine. “I’ll do my best. I don’t want to leave you, Atira. I want to stay here, watching the sunset with you forever. But I can’t make any promises… as much as I’d like to, I can’t make a promise I know I might not keep.”

“But you’ll try?”

“Of course,” I said, using my thumb to gently brush away one of her tears. A few moments passed and I finally said, “We’d better get going. Come on, I’ll walk you to your house.”

A few minutes later, I had left Atira at her doorstep, a warm and thoughtful smile on her face as she gently touched her lips, a light blush coating her cheeks. I felt myself grin as well, the taste of vanilla still lingering on my tongue, and following me all the way till morning.

I was awoken to the sound of screaming, loud, harsh cries against the morning light. I stumbled, half asleep to my door and through it open, eyes widening in horror. Villagers were fleeing out across the sands into the unknown, guards chasing them down with their spears and swords. Bodies were already littering the ground, patches of sand dyed red.

Dashing back inside, I pulled my tunic over my head and grabbed my sword out from under the bed. I was rushing back to the door as it burst open, Atira standing in front of me, blood dripping down her skirt. “My… parents they… they…” She collapsed to her knees, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook with sobs.

I rushed over and wrapped my arms about her, stroking her braids in what I hoped was comforting. “You say here,” I whispered. “You’ll be safe.”

She glanced up at me, tear streaks marring her face. “It’s not safe anywhere. They just came in our house and… and…” Taking a deep breath she finished, “No where is safe, Bijan. They want us all dead.”

I was puzzled by one thing. Why hadn’t the guards just killed us earlier instead of waiting for Delano? Atira seemed to read my mind because she said, “Delano is using all of the bodies in a sacrifice… they can only be a few hours old from what the guards said.”

“Sacrifice for what?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Something horrible no doubt, to need so many bodies.” Another sob wracked her body and she shuddered in my arms.

“I’ll stop him,” I said, conviction laced in my voice. “No one else is going to die… not while I have a say in it. Where’s Amsties? He might be able to help.”

Atira shook her head, lib trembling. “They killed him. Set his house on fire and as he tried to escape they cut him down. His whole family… they massacred them.”

An angry shudder rippled through me and I rose, unsheathing my sword as I went. Delano would pay. Pay very, very dearly. I looked down at Atira, her body hunched over where I had left her. “I’ll try and avenge your parents,” I said, placing a kiss on top of her head. “I won’t let him continue like this.”

“Bijan?” she called as I was stepping out the door. “Be careful.” I nodded and continued out, resolve firm and unwavering.

Finding Delano wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Just look to where most of the soldiers were coming from. As it is, the coward always hides behind his army. Delano might not be a coward, but I doubted he’d be willing to go do a job all of his men could accomplish. And I was right. As I bypassed many of the guards, cutting them down without hesitation, I saw him. Standing at the back, a cold smirk on his pale face. His black hair whipped around his head like snakes and his eyes were as cold and dark as an endless tunnel. A gold circlet rested atop his head, his mark. The mark I was going to take down. A set of swords rested on his hip, inlaid rubies glittering as a sign of the blood that had been spilt because of those swords. The swords were going down too.

He noticed me coming, not that that was a hard task. There were hardly any people moving towards him as it was. His smirk turned to a leery grin, eyes dancing with malicious intent. “And who might you be?” he asked, voice as slippery as oil.

“The person who’s going to take you down.”

“How touching.” Before I could even blink, he was racing at me, a sword in each hand, and slashing at my heart. I leapt back and glared at him, amazed and sickened at the same time by his speed. “Are you the acclaimed hero I’ve heard about?” he asked. “Because you certainly don’t look like one.”

“I’ll make you regret that,” I snarled, sprinting forward and lunging at him first with my sword and then followed by my leg, sweeping in a high arc for his stomach. I was pleased to see his sneering expression be replaced with a surprised one as my foot skimmed his tunic. Any closer and I would have cracked a rib or two.

“Tiendo, hmm? It’s been a while since I’ve seen that style. It doesn’t matter though, I’ll cut you down just like everyone else.” From that moment on, was what became the battle of my life. Everything Amsties had taught me. Every block, lunge, kick was put to the test as I tried to get inside of Delano’s hold. I was sweating, my movements becoming slower and less fierce as I battled on, still not gaining an advantage. And then he did.

In a heartbeat, I found myself lying on the sand, one sword pressed against my neck, the tip drawing blood, while the other hovered above my stomach. “Consider this the end,” he smirked. “You were never meant to be the hero.”

My breath caught in my throat as the sword plunged through my stomach, I not even having the chance to move. Agony rolled up my body, crimson waves of fury and anguish. Delano readied the other sword to finish the job, his eyes cruel as I writhed on the ground. But the death blow never came. I instead heard Delano curse and he turned from me, stalking towards some other thing.

Panting, I raised myself up, hand clutching automatically to the fatal wound, in a feeble attempt to stop the blood from spilling out. My vision was getting blurry and I peered dizzily in the direction Delano had gone. A girl…I think… was cowering as he came, but in her hands she held good sized rocks that she must have chucked at him. I blinked, trying to distinguish who it was. And then it finally clicked.

“Atira,” I whispered, blood dribbling down my chin. Struggling, I climbed to my feet and staggered towards them, sword clumsily held in a loose grip. I hadn’t the strength to move. But Atira… I couldn’t let Atira… I wouldn’t let her die. I wouldn’t make my sacrifice count for nothing.

Delano had her at sword point, the blade under her chin. He was saying something… too pretty to kill? He was going to… I saw red as Atira’s face went ghost white, tears leaking down her face at the fate he had planned for her. It was the burst of energy I needed. With speed I didn’t know I possessed, I crossed the ground, slamming a punch into the broad side of the sword and splintering it into pieces, Delano screaming as the broken metal flew into his face. Atira’s hand flew to her mouth as I used both hands to ram my own sword into Delano, straight through his chest.

He slumped forward, hate filled, but cloudy eyes, turning to stare at me. “I am the hero,” I said, feeling my own body start to sink down. “You remember that.” With a last shuddering breath Delano fell into the sand while Atira ran and caught me as I followed.

“Bijan!” she cried, cradling me to her.

“You did good,” I whispered, my energy spent, staring up at her. Memorizing every line and detail of her face.

“I… I didn’t s-stop him in t-time,” she sobbed, tears splattering my face. “I-if I h-had been f-aster you…you w-wouldn’t be…”

“But he’s gone now. He won’t ever hurt us again…” I could feel my words starting to slur as the world began a descent to darkness.

Her lips descended on mine, a last kiss of desperation, raw and painful. “You’ll… you’ll always be my hero,” she whispered, voice hitching. “You’ll be my angel now too?”

“I said I’d never leave you,” I said softly. “I’ll love you forever, Atira. I won’t ever let you live alone. I’ll watch over you for eternity.”

“I love you too,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to mine. “I love you, Bijan…”

The world turned dark, a comforting darkness. For if there is darkness there will be light. And where’s there’s light, there’s hope. And with hope is a new day, a new chance. A new way for light to conquer
darkness.

--

They always told me a hero would come. A hero didn’t come. A hero was born. A hero saved us all. And a hero died. But his memory will last forever.