Vanny
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2019
- Messages
- 36
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- 48
The church was small and surrounded by white rocks. It was so bright out during midday, the shadows of seagulls were ink black to Fredrick's eyes, besides his own which sometimes wavered. White, thick grains of salt irritated his skin. More sweat attempted to come out of those pores, causing them to swell-up, but not leak. He was much too dehydrated to manage a sweat.
The thick bushes around the church rustled, and a puff of wind came out. Fredrick robes were heavy and white. A blue ring around the tightly worn collar showed he had no rank within the church and was merely a candidate.
He smirked in joy. On the first day of the Trial of Perseverance, his robes had been soaked in sweat. They were worn during the night and soaked in dew. The sun would've already dried them, but, clouds would pass, and slowed the process. Leaving him to feel humid, sticky, and uncomfortable.
The cool wind rustled them, enough that the robe's weight left him. And that made him feel weightless. In fact, he had almost fainted because of the ecstasy that this feeling brought him. He stumbled, his right foot had been removed from that darkened area of sweat, and a small amount of blood.
The spell of lightheadedness made him stumble. The first, of the three trials, was the Trial of Sight, for Fredrick. The people of Banhaneos believed in many gods. And, it was said by many other nations that many Gods believed in them. Fredrick was not that talented. Not up to the standards that foreigners believed them all to be.
To stand beneath the blazing sun for an entire five days and nights was the customs of old. Those customs had slackened and in this day and age, the requirement had dropped to three.
"Ah." He hissed weakly. The rocks his foot had landed on were scolding. He didn't remove it despite the pain, and the rocks were eventually cooled because of the blood and sweat that were still stuck to his foot. He looked around for the proctors, that were no doubt removing points. They were hidden too well, and Fredrick admitted, the day was too long.
Fredrick closed his eyes and began to chant. He coughed and continued saying the words within his head. The words were from different languages. Some of those languages were dead now. But these words all shared the same meaning. Resilience. He thought of a plant when he'd said it Esquale. Of stone when he'd said it in Norbin. Of many other symbols of what he wanted to be in many different languages. Night came and dew along with it. He did his best not to shiver. The cold touch made it hard to focus, the words would sometimes slip away from him because of it.
Morning came again and his legs were now wobbling. They would almost buckle beneath him every few minutes. Resilience, he called out whenever they were about to.
.....................................
This is a short part of my upcoming web serial. Give me your opinion on the quality.
The thick bushes around the church rustled, and a puff of wind came out. Fredrick robes were heavy and white. A blue ring around the tightly worn collar showed he had no rank within the church and was merely a candidate.
He smirked in joy. On the first day of the Trial of Perseverance, his robes had been soaked in sweat. They were worn during the night and soaked in dew. The sun would've already dried them, but, clouds would pass, and slowed the process. Leaving him to feel humid, sticky, and uncomfortable.
The cool wind rustled them, enough that the robe's weight left him. And that made him feel weightless. In fact, he had almost fainted because of the ecstasy that this feeling brought him. He stumbled, his right foot had been removed from that darkened area of sweat, and a small amount of blood.
The spell of lightheadedness made him stumble. The first, of the three trials, was the Trial of Sight, for Fredrick. The people of Banhaneos believed in many gods. And, it was said by many other nations that many Gods believed in them. Fredrick was not that talented. Not up to the standards that foreigners believed them all to be.
To stand beneath the blazing sun for an entire five days and nights was the customs of old. Those customs had slackened and in this day and age, the requirement had dropped to three.
"Ah." He hissed weakly. The rocks his foot had landed on were scolding. He didn't remove it despite the pain, and the rocks were eventually cooled because of the blood and sweat that were still stuck to his foot. He looked around for the proctors, that were no doubt removing points. They were hidden too well, and Fredrick admitted, the day was too long.
Fredrick closed his eyes and began to chant. He coughed and continued saying the words within his head. The words were from different languages. Some of those languages were dead now. But these words all shared the same meaning. Resilience. He thought of a plant when he'd said it Esquale. Of stone when he'd said it in Norbin. Of many other symbols of what he wanted to be in many different languages. Night came and dew along with it. He did his best not to shiver. The cold touch made it hard to focus, the words would sometimes slip away from him because of it.
Morning came again and his legs were now wobbling. They would almost buckle beneath him every few minutes. Resilience, he called out whenever they were about to.
.....................................
This is a short part of my upcoming web serial. Give me your opinion on the quality.
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