The Day of Forever
A story I made for a school assignment, the title was chosen for me but I could write anything I wanted as long as there was a relation to the title. This is how I solved it. (To satisfy my own vanity, I would like to note that I got top marks for this essay.)
The story is 2617 words, it'll take a moment to read.
The day was fading into night, as she climbed the hill. She looked over her shoulder, gazing upon the fields behind her. Farmland as far as eye could reach, a sight she’d seen many a time before, but perhaps it would be the last time this time. At least, that was what she hoped for.
Even though she lived so near the hill, it was rarely she had time between the farm-work to actually go beyond it. Perhaps climbing it every once in a while, looking at the sunset, and imagining the lands beyond the horizon. The lands the sun was now going to shine upon. And now, finally, she was going to see them all.
Looking over her shoulders yet again, a slight surge of regret appeared. To just leave like that, without saying goodbye, without a word, nothing – and would she ever lay eyes upon that little piece of farmland ever again? Decisively, she turned away and started down the slope on the other side of the hill, out of view from the farm.
How long had it been, since the day she had left her homestead, full of expectations, full of hope, full of life and expectations to the wonderful world she was about to see? Certainly, it felt like decades ago. But she didn’t look old enough for it to have been that long ago, she noted from her reflection of the pond. The moonlight was shining over her shoulders and into the quiet water, not a sound to be heard – not as much as a bird chirping. The surrounding forest was dark and quiet, not a thing stirred, as if it all knew that even a slight movement would certainly bring their doom.
Thinking of things gone by, brought back that surge of regret she had felt oh so long ago. That certainly was the thing she remembered the most clearly. The regret of leaving her home. Over the years – it had to have been years – it had grown in her. Tremendously. Perhaps she would see it one day once more. If possible, she certainly wouldn’t leave it again.
“Are you ready?” a rough voice asked behind her. She turned slowly, measuring the shadow that had suddenly appeared, without a sound – refusing to be surprised by his petty attempts to unsettle her.
“Would I be here if I was naught?” she asked in return. Her part in this particular “play” was that of a previous high noble fallen from grace, her fine speech was required. He looked at her as if he was amused by her words.
“Of course not. Well then, let’s get going.” She pulled her hood up, covering her face in shades as she followed the man.
They emerged from the woods a couple of hundred meters away from the castle walls. It was a small castle, in the middle of nowhere. That such an important man would be at a place like this was a once in a lifetime chance. Shades were moving over the castle wall, for every three she saw, only one was carrying a torch. Perhaps in an attempt to startle inexperienced infiltrators – or poor sighted ones, whichever would stumble across a guard in the poor lighting while climbing the wall. But she didn’t need to worry about any of that – climbing over the wall undetected was a hopeless situation. The only thing they could hope for, was to go through or under the wall. And such a passage had been arranged for.
The water in the ground lay deep in this area, too deep for a well. Therefore, the only way to get water into the castle had been to re-route a river to flow through the courtyard. Of course, should the castle ever be besieged, the water would be poisoned straight away, which was why an underground passage had been dug from the spring all the way into the castle itself.
But the chance of a siege had long since passed, and the waterway had fallen into disrepair. Such disrepair, that part of it had collapsed, allowing entrance. The man next to her suddenly moved away. Not making a single sound. If she hadn’t been watching him from the corner of her eye out of distrust, he would have left without her noticing. She followed him – making no noise either. They went back into the forest, and followed a trail that hadn’t been used for some time up the mountain. After a while, a slight hole in the ground came into view. She studied it. From the opening the moonlight shone on a fast-flowing stream going past. Too fast to be able to stop once they were in it.
“There is no way we will be able to stop at the right point like this – we might naught even arrive at the castle before it’s too late.” She said. The man looked at her.
“Like this, it’s to fast for them to be able to get water out of it as well. It flows into a pool under the courtyard, where the water stills enough that they can use it – and we can stop. If you drown before you get to the castle, then there was no way we could succeed in the first place. We’ll never know until we try.” She shrugged, giving an image of not caring anymore. He looked at her for a few seconds, in amusement of her indifference, probably. She grew tired of his stare, and climbed into the stream. It was faster than she had expected. It took all her strength just to hold on. After a few moments she let go, and felt herself be taken by the streams at speeds she knew was amazing. After just a few moments her head hit something hard and she drifted away from her conscience…
She was standing on the hill, looking down at the farmstead. She had left it behind so long ago. The sun was just rising above the horizon, promising of a wonderful day, not too hot, nor too chill. The kind of days you just wanted to sprawl on a field somewhere, enjoying the sun and being alive. She looked about, and found her mother and father coming towards her, walking slowly, serenely, and smiling.
Suddenly she noticed she couldn’t breathe. It was as if she was surrounded by water. She struggled to take in air, but the more she gasped, the more she felt like she was drowning. Suddenly, the sun was shimmering through water, as if she was diving at the beach. The water darkened, before only blackness surrounded her. She started swimming, hoping she was swimming upwards, but at once her feet hit the ground, alerting her that she could stand, a moment later, she broke the surface. She tried taking another breath, but her lungs were filled with water and nothing would go in. White shimmering dots were going in front of her face. Desperately, she tried coughing up some of the water, and to some extent was successful, because when next she tried, she could draw enough breath to cough up more water. After a while she could draw ragged breaths without coughing.
While coughing up the last of the water, she looked about, trying to get her bearings. Only the sound of splashing water was heard, and no light what so ever. She had to be under the castle then – in the artificial lake that was created to allow water to be drawn.
She tried feeling about, and felt something soft. Grabbing hold of it she found it was cloth. Her companion? Quickly, by way of touch she figured out that it was a person, and that the person was lying face down. Turning the body around, she groped around until she found the neck, but there was no pulse. So her companion had not had the luck she had. Should she try and get away? Surely, the dream she had had while she was unconscious was a sign. That it was time to return home once again. But even with her companion dead, she needed the coin. And if he wasn’t there, that just meant more for her.
She pushed the body away, and kept groping around, until she finally found a wall. Feeling along it, she walked in the waist-deep water until she found the ladder leading to the surface. The well itself led directly to the kitchens. At this time of night – if it still was dark – they should be deserted.
Climbing up until she reached the roof, the latch was open. She pushed it up silently, looking about. The room was dimly lit by a single cooking-fire that was probably never put out. While still on the ladder she started discarding clothes, letting them fall back into the water. If she wore them, she would leave a trace of water all over the castle. That wouldn’t be good if she wanted to stay unnoticed.
When she had let all her clothes fall back down into the well, she grabbed the leather-pack tied tightly to her back. Using her free hand, she dragged the short sword fastened to it loose. First she cut the ropes tying the bag to her back, then she stabbed the top of the bag and ripped it open. It was just like a water-skin, sewed tightly to keep water in – or in this case, out. The single robe on the inside was just as dry as when it had been put in there. She pulled the robe over her head, and took out two soft boots – not made to be used in rough terrain, but to cover sounds. She discarded the empty bag down into the well, and climbed out of the well. Putting the hatch back in place behind her, before she pulled on the soft shoes and tied them tightly.
It was unusual to wear such a loose-fitting robe and nothing under it. It was hardly practical – which was not something she expected of the people who had hired her. They would only have given her practical things. Thinking for a few moments, she used the short sword to cut off the sleeves of the robe. Then she tied one of the sleeves around her hip, and the other around her chest – one to keep the robes from going too far up should she have to jump or roll or something like that, and the other to keep things in place, should she have to run.
She quickly put the short sword back in the sheath, and put the sheath behind her makeshift belt, lodging it tightly. Then, she left the kitchens. The castle was mostly dark, but from time to time she could hear voices talking, and see fluttering lights from a torch moving down the corridors. They never got around the corner in time to see her dart by, though. She quickly moved through hallways long ago put to memory, but halfway to her target, a nagging feeling started creeping over her. Someone was following her.
She had been in the profession for long enough to realize, that one trusted ones instincts utterly and completely. If your eyes told you no one was there, but your instincts told you that someone was trailing you, that meant someone was trailing you. In her experiences to that point, instincts didn’t rely on a single sense, but rather all of them, to gather a conclusion, which her active mind couldn’t arrive at, for the over-reliance to a single sense – sight.
She had the plan for the whole castle memorized, so she knew the best way to avoid them. She darted down a side passage, and sure enough, the nagging feeling of being followed stayed. But she was no longer heading towards the target, and she knew where she was going. This would indicate that she was a resident or worker in the castle – rather than an infiltrator. After a few corridors when she was still being followed, she went around a corner, and stopped. Squeezing herself tightly into the wall, she waited.
For a few long moments, she waited in absolute silence – even holding her breath. Then, she abruptly rolled forward. She didn’t know quite why, just that an overwhelming urge had suddenly appeared, and before she could think, she had done.
Getting to her feet, she quickly realized how smart it had been. A dagger lay discarded on the ground, broken at the middle. A robed person, cloaked, hooded and covered up to the point where she could not even recognize the gender, had already produced another weapon. She drew her short sword and backed into the corridor.
The person followed with careful steps, weary of an attack – but not in the way she had expected. She got the feeling that the opponent wasn’t being weary out of fright, but out of expectation. As if he knew, that her plan had been to leap into an attack as soon as he took an unprepared step. She quickly discarded the plan, and decided it would be better to get away. This wasn’t an opponent you stayed and fought. She half turned around, and was shocked to find the retreat blocked, by yet another person obscured by robes. She had few choices now. To either attack the first who had arrived, or attack the one that blocked the retreat. But the one blocking the retreat was bigger and more powerful than the first person that had arrived. She liked the odds better going back the way she had come. She charged forward, abruptly. Even though she had a mere moment ago been turning to escape, the opponent was completely ready for her.
Her short sword was struck aside by the opponent’s oversized dagger. She quickly rolled down under her opponents deflecting strike, coming to a crouch just at his back, and quickly sent the sword in a backwards stab. She felt her sword strike metal before she heard it, and quickly whipped her head around. The opponent had halfway turned to face her, and while doing it, swinging his arm – which she now realized was covered by a heavy metal plate – to meet the sword. Before she could respond to anything a devastating pain appeared in her abdomen. It was such a shock to her that she hardly realized that it was also present at the opposite point in her back. Clutching towards the pain she found nothing but something wet and sticky. Looking down at her hands they were red. But there was nothing sticking out from her abdomen. She turned around and looked at her back, and barely found a hilt seeming to float in the air behind her back. Certainly a mortal blow, she realized.
“Mercy.” She said. It was the first time she had spoken since before the river, and she found that the near drowning had left her voice hoarse and rough. It came out crooked, and only partly because of the pain. She fell down on the floor, and turned around to face the roof. These people should know what she meant. Not the mercy to keep her life, but the mercy for the quick ending of a painful death. “I could have handled her.” A woman’s voice proclaimed, she looked at the origin at it, and found the person she had just fought – still holding her oversized dagger. A reply came, but she couldn’t hear it, it was too blurred. As if the person was speaking through a heavy stonewall. A wind blew across her, and suddenly the sun was shining in her face. She looked down over her chest, and at the bottom of the hill, she saw a pretty farmstead, a sight she had wanted for so long. Her mother and father were walking towards her slowly, serenely and smiling. She got up, and walked towards them. She was home once more…
The story is 2617 words, it'll take a moment to read.
The Day of Forever
The day was fading into night, as she climbed the hill. She looked over her shoulder, gazing upon the fields behind her. Farmland as far as eye could reach, a sight she’d seen many a time before, but perhaps it would be the last time this time. At least, that was what she hoped for.
Even though she lived so near the hill, it was rarely she had time between the farm-work to actually go beyond it. Perhaps climbing it every once in a while, looking at the sunset, and imagining the lands beyond the horizon. The lands the sun was now going to shine upon. And now, finally, she was going to see them all.
Looking over her shoulders yet again, a slight surge of regret appeared. To just leave like that, without saying goodbye, without a word, nothing – and would she ever lay eyes upon that little piece of farmland ever again? Decisively, she turned away and started down the slope on the other side of the hill, out of view from the farm.
How long had it been, since the day she had left her homestead, full of expectations, full of hope, full of life and expectations to the wonderful world she was about to see? Certainly, it felt like decades ago. But she didn’t look old enough for it to have been that long ago, she noted from her reflection of the pond. The moonlight was shining over her shoulders and into the quiet water, not a sound to be heard – not as much as a bird chirping. The surrounding forest was dark and quiet, not a thing stirred, as if it all knew that even a slight movement would certainly bring their doom.
Thinking of things gone by, brought back that surge of regret she had felt oh so long ago. That certainly was the thing she remembered the most clearly. The regret of leaving her home. Over the years – it had to have been years – it had grown in her. Tremendously. Perhaps she would see it one day once more. If possible, she certainly wouldn’t leave it again.
“Are you ready?” a rough voice asked behind her. She turned slowly, measuring the shadow that had suddenly appeared, without a sound – refusing to be surprised by his petty attempts to unsettle her.
“Would I be here if I was naught?” she asked in return. Her part in this particular “play” was that of a previous high noble fallen from grace, her fine speech was required. He looked at her as if he was amused by her words.
“Of course not. Well then, let’s get going.” She pulled her hood up, covering her face in shades as she followed the man.
They emerged from the woods a couple of hundred meters away from the castle walls. It was a small castle, in the middle of nowhere. That such an important man would be at a place like this was a once in a lifetime chance. Shades were moving over the castle wall, for every three she saw, only one was carrying a torch. Perhaps in an attempt to startle inexperienced infiltrators – or poor sighted ones, whichever would stumble across a guard in the poor lighting while climbing the wall. But she didn’t need to worry about any of that – climbing over the wall undetected was a hopeless situation. The only thing they could hope for, was to go through or under the wall. And such a passage had been arranged for.
The water in the ground lay deep in this area, too deep for a well. Therefore, the only way to get water into the castle had been to re-route a river to flow through the courtyard. Of course, should the castle ever be besieged, the water would be poisoned straight away, which was why an underground passage had been dug from the spring all the way into the castle itself.
But the chance of a siege had long since passed, and the waterway had fallen into disrepair. Such disrepair, that part of it had collapsed, allowing entrance. The man next to her suddenly moved away. Not making a single sound. If she hadn’t been watching him from the corner of her eye out of distrust, he would have left without her noticing. She followed him – making no noise either. They went back into the forest, and followed a trail that hadn’t been used for some time up the mountain. After a while, a slight hole in the ground came into view. She studied it. From the opening the moonlight shone on a fast-flowing stream going past. Too fast to be able to stop once they were in it.
“There is no way we will be able to stop at the right point like this – we might naught even arrive at the castle before it’s too late.” She said. The man looked at her.
“Like this, it’s to fast for them to be able to get water out of it as well. It flows into a pool under the courtyard, where the water stills enough that they can use it – and we can stop. If you drown before you get to the castle, then there was no way we could succeed in the first place. We’ll never know until we try.” She shrugged, giving an image of not caring anymore. He looked at her for a few seconds, in amusement of her indifference, probably. She grew tired of his stare, and climbed into the stream. It was faster than she had expected. It took all her strength just to hold on. After a few moments she let go, and felt herself be taken by the streams at speeds she knew was amazing. After just a few moments her head hit something hard and she drifted away from her conscience…
She was standing on the hill, looking down at the farmstead. She had left it behind so long ago. The sun was just rising above the horizon, promising of a wonderful day, not too hot, nor too chill. The kind of days you just wanted to sprawl on a field somewhere, enjoying the sun and being alive. She looked about, and found her mother and father coming towards her, walking slowly, serenely, and smiling.
Suddenly she noticed she couldn’t breathe. It was as if she was surrounded by water. She struggled to take in air, but the more she gasped, the more she felt like she was drowning. Suddenly, the sun was shimmering through water, as if she was diving at the beach. The water darkened, before only blackness surrounded her. She started swimming, hoping she was swimming upwards, but at once her feet hit the ground, alerting her that she could stand, a moment later, she broke the surface. She tried taking another breath, but her lungs were filled with water and nothing would go in. White shimmering dots were going in front of her face. Desperately, she tried coughing up some of the water, and to some extent was successful, because when next she tried, she could draw enough breath to cough up more water. After a while she could draw ragged breaths without coughing.
While coughing up the last of the water, she looked about, trying to get her bearings. Only the sound of splashing water was heard, and no light what so ever. She had to be under the castle then – in the artificial lake that was created to allow water to be drawn.
She tried feeling about, and felt something soft. Grabbing hold of it she found it was cloth. Her companion? Quickly, by way of touch she figured out that it was a person, and that the person was lying face down. Turning the body around, she groped around until she found the neck, but there was no pulse. So her companion had not had the luck she had. Should she try and get away? Surely, the dream she had had while she was unconscious was a sign. That it was time to return home once again. But even with her companion dead, she needed the coin. And if he wasn’t there, that just meant more for her.
She pushed the body away, and kept groping around, until she finally found a wall. Feeling along it, she walked in the waist-deep water until she found the ladder leading to the surface. The well itself led directly to the kitchens. At this time of night – if it still was dark – they should be deserted.
Climbing up until she reached the roof, the latch was open. She pushed it up silently, looking about. The room was dimly lit by a single cooking-fire that was probably never put out. While still on the ladder she started discarding clothes, letting them fall back into the water. If she wore them, she would leave a trace of water all over the castle. That wouldn’t be good if she wanted to stay unnoticed.
When she had let all her clothes fall back down into the well, she grabbed the leather-pack tied tightly to her back. Using her free hand, she dragged the short sword fastened to it loose. First she cut the ropes tying the bag to her back, then she stabbed the top of the bag and ripped it open. It was just like a water-skin, sewed tightly to keep water in – or in this case, out. The single robe on the inside was just as dry as when it had been put in there. She pulled the robe over her head, and took out two soft boots – not made to be used in rough terrain, but to cover sounds. She discarded the empty bag down into the well, and climbed out of the well. Putting the hatch back in place behind her, before she pulled on the soft shoes and tied them tightly.
It was unusual to wear such a loose-fitting robe and nothing under it. It was hardly practical – which was not something she expected of the people who had hired her. They would only have given her practical things. Thinking for a few moments, she used the short sword to cut off the sleeves of the robe. Then she tied one of the sleeves around her hip, and the other around her chest – one to keep the robes from going too far up should she have to jump or roll or something like that, and the other to keep things in place, should she have to run.
She quickly put the short sword back in the sheath, and put the sheath behind her makeshift belt, lodging it tightly. Then, she left the kitchens. The castle was mostly dark, but from time to time she could hear voices talking, and see fluttering lights from a torch moving down the corridors. They never got around the corner in time to see her dart by, though. She quickly moved through hallways long ago put to memory, but halfway to her target, a nagging feeling started creeping over her. Someone was following her.
She had been in the profession for long enough to realize, that one trusted ones instincts utterly and completely. If your eyes told you no one was there, but your instincts told you that someone was trailing you, that meant someone was trailing you. In her experiences to that point, instincts didn’t rely on a single sense, but rather all of them, to gather a conclusion, which her active mind couldn’t arrive at, for the over-reliance to a single sense – sight.
She had the plan for the whole castle memorized, so she knew the best way to avoid them. She darted down a side passage, and sure enough, the nagging feeling of being followed stayed. But she was no longer heading towards the target, and she knew where she was going. This would indicate that she was a resident or worker in the castle – rather than an infiltrator. After a few corridors when she was still being followed, she went around a corner, and stopped. Squeezing herself tightly into the wall, she waited.
For a few long moments, she waited in absolute silence – even holding her breath. Then, she abruptly rolled forward. She didn’t know quite why, just that an overwhelming urge had suddenly appeared, and before she could think, she had done.
Getting to her feet, she quickly realized how smart it had been. A dagger lay discarded on the ground, broken at the middle. A robed person, cloaked, hooded and covered up to the point where she could not even recognize the gender, had already produced another weapon. She drew her short sword and backed into the corridor.
The person followed with careful steps, weary of an attack – but not in the way she had expected. She got the feeling that the opponent wasn’t being weary out of fright, but out of expectation. As if he knew, that her plan had been to leap into an attack as soon as he took an unprepared step. She quickly discarded the plan, and decided it would be better to get away. This wasn’t an opponent you stayed and fought. She half turned around, and was shocked to find the retreat blocked, by yet another person obscured by robes. She had few choices now. To either attack the first who had arrived, or attack the one that blocked the retreat. But the one blocking the retreat was bigger and more powerful than the first person that had arrived. She liked the odds better going back the way she had come. She charged forward, abruptly. Even though she had a mere moment ago been turning to escape, the opponent was completely ready for her.
Her short sword was struck aside by the opponent’s oversized dagger. She quickly rolled down under her opponents deflecting strike, coming to a crouch just at his back, and quickly sent the sword in a backwards stab. She felt her sword strike metal before she heard it, and quickly whipped her head around. The opponent had halfway turned to face her, and while doing it, swinging his arm – which she now realized was covered by a heavy metal plate – to meet the sword. Before she could respond to anything a devastating pain appeared in her abdomen. It was such a shock to her that she hardly realized that it was also present at the opposite point in her back. Clutching towards the pain she found nothing but something wet and sticky. Looking down at her hands they were red. But there was nothing sticking out from her abdomen. She turned around and looked at her back, and barely found a hilt seeming to float in the air behind her back. Certainly a mortal blow, she realized.
“Mercy.” She said. It was the first time she had spoken since before the river, and she found that the near drowning had left her voice hoarse and rough. It came out crooked, and only partly because of the pain. She fell down on the floor, and turned around to face the roof. These people should know what she meant. Not the mercy to keep her life, but the mercy for the quick ending of a painful death. “I could have handled her.” A woman’s voice proclaimed, she looked at the origin at it, and found the person she had just fought – still holding her oversized dagger. A reply came, but she couldn’t hear it, it was too blurred. As if the person was speaking through a heavy stonewall. A wind blew across her, and suddenly the sun was shining in her face. She looked down over her chest, and at the bottom of the hill, she saw a pretty farmstead, a sight she had wanted for so long. Her mother and father were walking towards her slowly, serenely and smiling. She got up, and walked towards them. She was home once more…
Spennende! Sitter litt og tenker "hva var det egentlig hun skulle i tårnet? Hvem skulle hun drepe?
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