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Le Monde de L'Écriture » Encore plus loin dans l'écriture ! » Textes non francophones » TALES OF BLOOD

Auteur Sujet: TALES OF BLOOD  (Lu 761 fois)

Hors ligne arnaudsis

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TALES OF BLOOD
« le: 16 octobre 2020 à 10:01:31 »
******TALES OF BLOOD******
Not every tale has been told yet —and sometimes, an untold story begins with the coldest night ever spilled in the woods. Winter had come. The snatchy wolf howls echoed over the rousing walls with a thousand perjury. Farmers on the edge of the dark forest were more frightened than they usually spent the solstice in this cold season. The landlords oversaw the harvest while the priestesses were choosing among the children, the newborns to be offered as a sacrifice to the dark forest. Only the heirs had a few hope to escape this bloody madness. The less fortunate were sent in the Farlands to survive the winter. Some genitors and desperate mothers were moaning to death the damned fruit of their womb. Being a winter child cursed the bloodline destiny as much as keeping still like a virgin upon the twentieth fall consumed. One like the other, youngest winter-borns as well as blond innocent maidenlike, yet endowed with good manners, would never know the fate of a joyful and mundane existence…A monotonous chant suddenly arose like a magic flute in the middle of night to tame the wild instincts of half bloods and their dog-wolves. The most superstitious villagers amid the poorest farmers led off wondering what they possibly did to offend the divinities. The winter sacrificial offerings did not seem to please the gods of the forest–perhaps very little to quench their thirst or way too insignificant to kill their immeasurable appetite… Few men of watchers, a dozen or two, on top of an old decrepit Church with a tree-level belfry, at a corner of the demolished ramparts in the tumbledown city next to the west river, a half mile off the dark forest, silently stood. Just like nimble black hawks on the prowl, hung on the steep flanks of a mountain, trying to spot preys, they looked out for any slightest breeze change in the wild grasses and the nearest brushwood, all around the makeshift shelter they’ve just invested close to the old merchant streets falling into ruins for decades. Grey paths inquisitors, last protectors of No Man’s lands and Highest Priests of Virgin Islands — Few more titles loudly declaimed by an apprentice minstrel among the watchers in honor of the deftest and most ruthless hunters the five kingdoms have ever known. As the clamor rose in the fearful crowd, their war cries happened to give a glimmer of hope for the resigned souls and devastated people gathered in the cold stone city far from their all days quarters and meals. And it could not have been otherwise. Their mere presence was quite intimidating, even for the dark beasts. So did their methods — whatsoever their warlike aura still remained potent and enough persuasive for deterring the dog-wolves to step out of the black woods. Between two short breaths, the dark cuss slayers had already marked their territory shooting hundreds of glowing arrows, thereby surrounding with flames and scattering bushfire, the forsaken city where the peasants have momentarily found refuge to escape from the claws of the demonic beasts. The black watchers of immaculate lands, have got wind since three moons of a fresh secret alliance between the witches of purple forests and the red lake enchantresses sealed with the mid wolves pack leaders. Solely the vestals, with the white banners, blew hot and cold to join the battle. Despite of this terrifying army of murky and foul creatures, their chances to defeat the Wellborns were as low as uncertain. The half bloods who just looked like mere humans needed to grow faster and stronger to become ferocious and all mighty before the battle. And the whole mankind on the skirt of the neighboring forest, would only serve as a pantry for those human creatures on the cusp of raging down the cracking walls of Wolfsburg. Dog-wolves would be eating for two very soon. The bloody harvest was only theirs at this sky fall. Nothing went for the highborns this bloody night... Meanwhile in the woods, began heavily spreading in the air, a fetid smell through the glades of ferns glistening under the moonlight. This nauseating scent made the atmosphere even more unbearable than squelching along a cold pit of shit scum. Many packs of mere-wolves fought each other for purulent carcasses of fat cows and goats, sheep's heads already slaughtered for several weeks. Rotten corpses and butchered horses piled up in the undergrowth, just looked like a feast for crows while fresh and still bleeding human’s ribs on the fleshy bones, latterly stowed in the deep underwood, went for feeding their blood masters– the half bloods with whom they are mortally and forever bound, needed that to heal faster than ever to overcome the deadliest fight to come....Those human beasts for the most part have finally decided to put an end to their gregarious instincts, so they could unchain their dark side and release their true power. These abominations were giving up on their part of humanity to satiate their hard feelings and satisfy their long time desire for revenge. Anyone who got in their way would have the same fate. Never ever Naturalborns will bend the knees in front of Wellborns and their shadowing freaky beast’s council. Now, they were turning into full beast, the Naturalborns have committed the highest blood treason, the unthinkable, and the forbidden, prohibited by the sacred ancestral laws of blood. And there was no turning back. They were thus, at the mercy of the red moon enchantresses and had to obey the spells of these witches lest perchance to see their dog-wolves dying in atrocious suffering before they embrace the same fate. Having pledged allegiance to greater evil turned out to be the only way to free themselves from the shackles of inextricable servitudes. But the circle was vicious…Anyway the future would tell....Outside of the forbidden woods to Wolfsburg, the black arrows were gazing upon the cold wind direction where the thick fog sharply rose beyond the forest vault...
Black watchers had no power to interfere in blood wars while solemnly bending to old covenants and until the bloodshed of this rebellion stains the green meadows of men's land, they had to enchain their cruelty and recklessness to the solemn oath to never transgress the rules of the bloody harvest. They have vowed for centuries to keep the harsh laws of blood and the atrocity of wars away from the immaculate yards. Besides, a wind of fear carried with evilness the spells of the witches over the walls barely conspicuous in the midst of the unveiling spells. The chants of sorcerers, punctuated by the dog-wolves shrill screams foreshadowed the death knell for the highborn’s tyranny. Beyond the veiled fences summoned through ancient powerful charms of protection, the wellborn’s leaders became deaf to anything that happened outside the walls. Two different worlds coexisting for centuries in the shadow of prying eyes and secrets were definitely on the verge of colliding and nobody was quite prepared for this most unexpected end...
« Modifié: 16 octobre 2020 à 12:16:16 par arnaudsis »

 


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