This was originally my story for national november writing month, but then I figured I should do something else. Really didn't feel like writing fantasy.
Anyways, this is actually more of a completed bard-like prologue to the actual story itself, but I find that it's quite good just by itself, and is sort of a completed story.
The War of The Rose
By Daxisheart
The Rose Houses of Red and Black were constantly at war, an existence that has long existed, reason lost in time. Armies assembled, mages enchanting, they would fight and kill and war. When alas the two houses are too depleted to continue forth, the war would stall, but it would never end. The atrocities committed on both sides were too much to forget. The Rose House Black would remember the bloody red of their enemy, and the Rose House Red would never forget how their enemy marched like phantoms in the night.
Alas, there came to be one day when a prophet did appear. The man, cloaked within a robe of darkness, came upon the rulers of both Houses, and beseeched them,
“End the war, and the murder,
For a monster comes to tear all asunder.
The Dragon, he’ll appear,
Destroying everything that one holds dear.
Yet his arrival is not the last,
For a greater evil will then soon be cast.
The end, the Dragon bring,
The angels of death shall rise and sing.”
In the current war, the lords and kings of both Houses had perished by the other’s blade, so thus ruled the two queens. They both scoffed at his words, words of a madman.
But then came the beast, the Dragon that the prophet did speak. It was twice as long as any wyvern, trice as large as any behemoth, and with a bloody flame that reached for miles and burned for days. Its scales broke any blade, and it scorned any magic. It rose to the skies, and would take nest at a mountain, resting but for a day before returning to its rampage.
Two queens then kneeled before a prophet then, their heads bowed low. The prophet then bestowed:
“The Rose does wither,
When enough water does dither,
The war must terminate,
Lest your lives allow liberate.
Blood pact ritual must be created,
The two newborn heirs are desolated.
Peace shall reign, sadness fade.
The Dragon die; enough has been said.”
Enraged, the two queens did then slay the prophet, and then they did return to their houses.
Yet a day did pass, and a village is destroyed.
Yet a week did pass, and a city annihilated.
Yet a month did pass, armies are slaughtered.
The Dragon must be stopped, at all and any cost, so there came to be the way where the two heirs were rounded, and brought to a single neutral town.
Two newborn heirs of the Red and the Black were held by the two queens, and enough tears were shed so that the blood of the fallen was washed away. Laid on the pedestal, surrounded by four circles of magic and two triangles of evocation, the two newborn heirs squirmed, unknowing of what fate was before them.
The queens stared into the eyes of one another, with a hatred that can only be crafted by time. Four magicians flanked both sides, and the incantation was made. One dagger of deepest red and one stiletto of deepest black were held by opposing hands. They were both held high before the children.
“I’m sorry,” the queens whispered, and blades did fall swift, and a moment later the blood of newborn shed.
The queens fell crying, and countless leagues away, the Dragon fell from the sky with its heart pierced.
The queens did cry a thousand tears, holding a stone child to never forget what has been wrought. After the last tear fell to the ground shining like liquid diamond, the queens arose from their beds, no longer stricken with hurt. They met, and bowed to one another before a million souls.
Barrels of alcohol were then broken, swords were melted and shattered, and love blossomed between people never met. Thus came to be the end of the War of the Rose. A blood pact ritual bound the two Houses never to war, and thus merry was maid, a past forgotten.
Anyways, this is actually more of a completed bard-like prologue to the actual story itself, but I find that it's quite good just by itself, and is sort of a completed story.
By Daxisheart
The Rose Houses of Red and Black were constantly at war, an existence that has long existed, reason lost in time. Armies assembled, mages enchanting, they would fight and kill and war. When alas the two houses are too depleted to continue forth, the war would stall, but it would never end. The atrocities committed on both sides were too much to forget. The Rose House Black would remember the bloody red of their enemy, and the Rose House Red would never forget how their enemy marched like phantoms in the night.
Alas, there came to be one day when a prophet did appear. The man, cloaked within a robe of darkness, came upon the rulers of both Houses, and beseeched them,
“End the war, and the murder,
For a monster comes to tear all asunder.
The Dragon, he’ll appear,
Destroying everything that one holds dear.
Yet his arrival is not the last,
For a greater evil will then soon be cast.
The end, the Dragon bring,
The angels of death shall rise and sing.”
In the current war, the lords and kings of both Houses had perished by the other’s blade, so thus ruled the two queens. They both scoffed at his words, words of a madman.
But then came the beast, the Dragon that the prophet did speak. It was twice as long as any wyvern, trice as large as any behemoth, and with a bloody flame that reached for miles and burned for days. Its scales broke any blade, and it scorned any magic. It rose to the skies, and would take nest at a mountain, resting but for a day before returning to its rampage.
Two queens then kneeled before a prophet then, their heads bowed low. The prophet then bestowed:
“The Rose does wither,
When enough water does dither,
The war must terminate,
Lest your lives allow liberate.
Blood pact ritual must be created,
The two newborn heirs are desolated.
Peace shall reign, sadness fade.
The Dragon die; enough has been said.”
Enraged, the two queens did then slay the prophet, and then they did return to their houses.
Yet a day did pass, and a village is destroyed.
Yet a week did pass, and a city annihilated.
Yet a month did pass, armies are slaughtered.
The Dragon must be stopped, at all and any cost, so there came to be the way where the two heirs were rounded, and brought to a single neutral town.
Two newborn heirs of the Red and the Black were held by the two queens, and enough tears were shed so that the blood of the fallen was washed away. Laid on the pedestal, surrounded by four circles of magic and two triangles of evocation, the two newborn heirs squirmed, unknowing of what fate was before them.
The queens stared into the eyes of one another, with a hatred that can only be crafted by time. Four magicians flanked both sides, and the incantation was made. One dagger of deepest red and one stiletto of deepest black were held by opposing hands. They were both held high before the children.
“I’m sorry,” the queens whispered, and blades did fall swift, and a moment later the blood of newborn shed.
The queens fell crying, and countless leagues away, the Dragon fell from the sky with its heart pierced.
The queens did cry a thousand tears, holding a stone child to never forget what has been wrought. After the last tear fell to the ground shining like liquid diamond, the queens arose from their beds, no longer stricken with hurt. They met, and bowed to one another before a million souls.
Barrels of alcohol were then broken, swords were melted and shattered, and love blossomed between people never met. Thus came to be the end of the War of the Rose. A blood pact ritual bound the two Houses never to war, and thus merry was maid, a past forgotten.
