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The Legend's Beginning...; The Dream
Tweet Topic Started: Sep 13 2010, 01:29 PM (164 Views)
Post #1 Sep 13 2010, 01:29 PM Kullervo
[Ezio's Family - Assassin's Creed 2 OST]

Sometimes, Hikaru dreams of something she had seen during the day, or revolve around an idea she had but unable to make into reality. Other times, it would be echoes of past events or wishes or fantasies that could never happen. However, this time, she stood on a foreign ground she had never been, surrounded by people she had never met. She could feel the sandy wind blowing through her, smell the dry air, and hear the sounds around her as clear as she had been awake. The sun baked her mercilessly from above, but her skin did not react by sweating.

“Hello? Oi!” she called out at a man wearing plate helm and armour, holding a spear in one arm and a shield in the other, outside the flap of a very large tent. Anyone would think by now, a girl with strange clothing in a displaced time would have induced a reaction, but the guard didn’t even blink. “Can you hear me?” she shouted into his ear. Still no reaction. Hikaru waved her hand across the man’s eyes, and snapped her fingers several times. The guard remained as still as a statue. At a last straw, she reached out and grabbed the man’s arm. What happened next was the most surreal feeling. Her hand cut through the guard’s arm as if it were air. She kept her eye on the guard, who seemed solid to her eye, and tested again. The effect repeated itself.

Hikaru drew her hand back and wriggled it to make sure that it had not been sucked into a void of nothingness, or something of the ilk. The wind was still blowing her hair as accordingly to physics. She looked down at her feet, and saw that she had no shadow. The entire thing does not make sense. Her head spun while trying to search for a logical explanation, until the hushed voices from beyond the flaps the tent took hold of her curiosity. Reaching a conclusion that the lack of awareness of her presence from the guard would be the same for the people inside the tent, Hikaru marched into it as if it were her apartment’s bathroom doorway.

A large group of men gathered in a tent-like structure, their faces twisted by mixes of shame and displeasure; their armor and clothes had been richly decorated, their weapons finely crafted, but despite this, it was certain: They were far more used to marching in line then using these weapons on parade. The man sitting at the head of the table seemed by far the most distraught of the lot, forehead creased heavily by many burdens; his breastplate had been ornamented with gold and the crown forged of the same metal, set with various precious gems, clearly indicated his status. The silence in the room had been heavy, with people barely breathing; the heat had only made it worse, despite the shade the tent provided. Not one of the men touched their goblets, filled with a crimson liquid, the smell suggesting excellent wine. Suddenly, the tranquility had been revealed for what it was, as a loud bang akin to a gong resonated from the outside, making all in the room shudder slightly. After that, it had continued as it was, until a minute later, it repeated again, followed by a roar containing various mocking insult addressed at God and someone named Saul. Nobody dared look at the man in the crown, who'd only ground his teeth.

“Saul?” exclaimed Hikaru with her eyebrows mounting her forehead. “The guy who preceded…. oh.” A realization dawn her. This was not an ordinary dream formed from her subconscious, but a memory from three thousand years. She turned, tuning her attention to the roars outside. The hairs at the back of her neck were raised. They were nothing like the roars she heard from lions or tigers, more like a pack of rabid dogs seeking blood. It was no wonder the people inside this tent held their fear in silence.

The scene had suddenly shifted, the colors swirling and merging, to a much different setting: A young man walking through rows and rows of small fires here and there, a large host of soldiers sitting around them, clamoring loudly, but the actual words seemed to have been completely obscured by an unknown force. The young man that walked amongst them had been the exact copy of the one that Hikaru had seen in her room, if a little dirtier, and his hair had been slightly longer, a bit past his shoulders. There had been dirt under his fingernails, and his hands had slightly worn and tanned skin, as the boy seemed to be used to work. His clothing had been simple; a robe of sorts, with a piece of rope as a belt, his head left open to the wind, letting curious greened eyes peek out in the mane of dull blonde. In his hands he held a wooden staff which had been meticulously polished by time's merciless steps, and had a rough cloth bag slung over his shoulder, a sling used as the rope to hold the bag up.

"Quite a looker isn't he?" said Hikaru to a man next to her. Like the guard and every other person in this memory world, her voice did not reach their ears. She might as well been a ghost to them.

Hikaru tipped her head left and right. She mused while she stroked her chin, unsure of what to make of the boy before her. Sure, he looks exactly the same, except for the clothes, but it feels as if something was lacking. The David she knew had an aura that draws attention to him, and would make people listen to every order he gave. This David, however, was an ordinary boy – a very good looking one. Yet, there was a spark in his eyes that remind her of an unpolished gemstone.

Another loud yell shook the air, along with a sound of a gong, foul words roared at the top of a superhuman voice seeming to silence the chatter for a second, before it resumed again. The boy looked about in confusion, but continued to his destination, one of the nearby fires with several men whom he waved to sitting around it. One of them looked similar to him, if older, but had the same grim look on his face that marred the features of those at his fire, both old, bearded men, and young ones alike, all five of them. "Brother, what is happening?" The blonde boy asked the one who had resembled him. "Father found out the army was near so he sent me to bring you some food - he insisted a soldier must eat healthy food if he is to defend his country. You know how he is." His brother finally raised his eyes, a bit weakly: "Food? Yeah... Just put it down over there." He gestured disinterestedly on the ground beside him, though the delicious smell of newly-made, warm bread spread quickly it seemed to affect him little. His little brother seemed to ignore this melancholia and took a seat directly on the ground, removing the bag from his shoulder: "No, really, what happened? I keep hearing someone shouting and the content..." "It's Goliath." Interrupted a gruff voice. A man seated next to the blonde boy stirred the firewood using a spear. He had been unshaven and a scar marred his face, some of his clothing showing traces of blood. "Goliath?" "Yeah... Champion of Philistines. 'says he wants to fight our champion and stake the battle on the outcome. Bastard has been taunting us ever since, but the King does not send a champion because we don’t have one... Or summat. Dunno. We're at a disadvantage in this position, but if we move, it'll be worse. So we just sit…" He spat in the fire.

"Then... he wants to preserve his people's lives? Even for a heathen that’s..." The blonde boy had begun, eyebrows raised slightly as if attempting to process this new bit of information: "No, David." His brother cut him off, speaking at last, his face twisted in a cross grimace that might have been directed at Goliath as much as his little brother's naïveté. "They have the superior position. They also have reinforcements on the way. Goliath is an animal... he cannot be controlled by his commanders - he acts as if possessed; so while they cannot let him attack us directly, they used this to help him vent his frustration and at the same time demoralize us. And if he beats our champion, it would be a bloodless victory for the Philistines." After he'd finished, the soldiers sitting at the fire fell into a grim silence much like the one at the tent. Each realized just what 'surrender' would mean, and what a battle with a reinforced army would entail. In the next second, the silence was shattered by the sound of the gong, and while more insults flew... Another sound overwrote them. A sincere, melodic laughter of a boy who understood the situation in all its simplicity. "Is that...All?" The boy wiped a stray tear, still chuckling. "All we have to do is put an end to a blasphemer who should have been killed already, and all this is over?" His brother looked up in alarm, disbelief clearly written on his face, mixed with shock and a good dose of fright: "David, you... He's 10 feet tall, and bound in the newest armor those bastards invented, head to toe. He's invulnerable, damn it!" But the boy merely shook his head, putting his hand up to stop his brother and the soldier's shouts directed at him, a smile of all things on his face. And somehow, veterans who were only silenced at the sound of the roar of Goliath stopped at a mere motion of a hand of a frail boy barely out of his teens. "Call Saul. I will fight Goliath."

The scene once more changed to something else, as the colors converged, seeping fourth, and forming the image of the tent shown in the previous scene. A soldier, out of breath, had run into the tent and fell on a single knee before the table set there, his fist banging on his breastplate: "King Saul! A man appeared who wishes to challenge Goliath." The crowned man's head rose slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he massaged his temples. The jaw of the general on his left fell open, as he struggled to express something but was silenced as the King rose from the throne that had been carried to the battlefield. "Very well. Let me see this man." Saul's voice had carried a certain magnitude to it, through and proper, fitting for a king, but it had been infinitely weary, as his burdens had been heavy. "Your Majesty!" Blurted the man on his right. "Surely you don’t intend to greet some uncouth soldier yourself, this is simply degrading to your..." A single murderous gaze, cast sideways, made the man fall silent, almost balling himself up. "Silence. No matter who this man is, he already possesses more courage then you. It is only fitting I greet one who wishes to risk his life for their King with such a small margin of success." Unopposed this time, the Saul had walked past the kneeling soldier without paying him any heed, and brushed aside the fabric of the entrance, his mantle swaying slightly in the wind as he walked out. The first thing he had seen was the sun, blinding him, and he had raised his left hand to his eyes to cover it, as he had been used to the semi-darkness of the tent. The next thing he saw had been a single figure of a boy not a day over seventeen, simply standing there with his arms crossed on his chest, smiling at him in confidence. "Who challenged Goliath?" Saul preferred to get straight to business. "I did." David's answer was short and somewhat rude - no addition of 'Your Majesty', no bowing, no show of respect. Strangely... the king only smiled. Nobody could truly tell what Saul had been feeling at the moment, but his next question was altogether unrelated. It was not 'why', or 'what', but..."Whose son are you, boy?" The next words that emerged from David's throat had been said in a completely different style, as if history itself had come alive and spoken through the youth: "I am the son of your servant, Jesse the Bethlehemite, David.. Your shieldbearer and harpist. Do you not recognize me?"

The girl who had been their invisible watcher merely leaned against a pole -- it appears only objects were solid to her. She was somewhat unsettled after catching a gleam in Saul's eyes. With knowledge of what is to come, it was hard not to second guess certain individuals' intentions.

"Hm." The king shook his head, sighing. "My headaches seem to produces lapses in memory now... After you've left on that errand, they've gotten worse. Still..." He turned his head to where the gong's noises were coming from, grimacing in pain. Clearly, it's broken clanking didnt do wonders for his migraine. "I wont question your wish to challenge Goliath, despite it being foolish... You always did have a plan. Would you like my armor since you are our representative?" But David merely shook his head at the older man, impatiently brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face: "No, this is fine. I don’t need weapons or armor, they'll only slow me down. But... Is there a river nearby?" Saul nodded somewhat melancholically, as if unconcerned. If this blasted noise ceased, it would be as good as winning the battle, and it would happen one way or another now. "Show him to the river. I will go and continue with the war plans." The pathetic figure of the King had vanished under the flap of the tent, escorted by a pair of guards. The emerald eyes of the boy watched him until he had left, a measure of respect lighting them despite the words spoken clearly lacking it. "The river is this way, David." His brother pulled him to the side, as both walked through the camp to where it gave way to a bank of a relatively shallow river, the water clear and pristine. "Why face him? This is crazy." "To keep the water clean, Abner. I quite like it without the blood, don’t you?" David kneeled on the riverbank, looking at the water in concentration, finally picking out several round, egg-shaped stones, polished by the water and placing them in the shoulder strap. "Besides..." He stood up again, watching the sun through a net of dull blond hair, smiling slightly: "Doesn’t the loudmouth over there get on your nerves?"

"Cocky even back then. Looks like some things don’t change." Hikaru nodded affirmatively.

Two armies stood facing each other, rows of shields facing one another, the spears aimed at the sky. And while one, clad in green, roared and slung insults, the other remained completely silent, unstirring. A giant of a man stood in front of the army in green, a giant black scimitar easily over six feet tall held on his shoulder, looking like a toothpick in the arms of that -thing- that stood there. Calling it a 'man' was a far stretch, despite it being humanoid: ten feet tall, arms and legs as thick as tree trunks, a bull's neck, and a face and torso seemingly cut from a solid piece of granite. Every inch of the giant's body had been clad in a scale armor, not leaving even a smallest gap, his head bearing a helmet that looked like it might have worked as a cauldron if needed, with a giant horse's tail ridge, descending onto his nose sharply but not guarding his lower jaw. A long mantle, crimson and torn was secured to the shoulders, flapping in the wind. The shield which the monster held had been rectangular and was carried to him by five men, while he had lifted it in one go, casually tossing off the yelping Philistines off it like ants, twirling the black sword and putting his lower lip forward, revealing a set of overlarge teeth, as their bearer considered whether to use the scimitar or the lance buried in the ground at his feet which towered over even the giant's impressive height. Finally, he let out an earth-shaking chuckle, and left the lance where it was, raising his face forth; crimson eyes burrowing into the army that stood before him. "Which of you?" It suddenly bellowed. "Who wishes to face Goliath?!"

The row of Israelite shields shifted slightly at this challenge, but the warriors stood their ground, even though several looked slightly green in the face. Noticing this, the giant let out a sadistic, mocking laugh, and stomped his foot, moving forward slightly with a battle roar that threw small rocks into the air, causing the row of shields to falter and move back slightly. Continuing to laugh, Goliath straightened, and began his now usual fountain of insults; as he did however, the shields that faced him shifted slightly to either side, forming a small path, through which a youth of average height walked, twisting his finger in his ear in what seemed like an attempt to hear better. His dress had been that of a commoner, a shepard's dusty vestments, with a rough rope as a belt. Over his shoulder, he carried a small bag made of dirty fabric that lost it's color, supported by a leather belt that widened on his shoulder. He leaned on a wooden staff, intricately carved and obviously cared for, but worn nonetheless. Through a net of crudely-cut blonde hair, made a dull color by the sun's rays looked a pair of inquisitively-mocking green eyes, fixed on the giant ahead. Stopping several feet away from the line, he took the finger out, and shoot it slightly, finally speaking: "You're too damn loud... Even a wild onager, to whom I see you're in direct relation with, doesn’t have that much volume." Scratching his head, he started at the giant who seemed dumbstruck, at a loss for words at the gall of this dirty midget. Making some sort of choking noises, he pointed at the youth; who, nodding thoughtfully replied: "Sorry, I don't speak stupid. But yes, I'm here to put an end to your pollution of the surrounding air." The atmosphere itself froze, as the bag at his shoulder dropped, and the staff was thrown aside, the leather belt turning out to be a sling, the first rock from the bag already loaded. "Let's get this over with. I skipped a good meal for this."

With a monstrous bellow that made his opponent grimace in distaste, the giant barreled forward, the sound accompanied by the calm hum of the sling spinning, and the sounds of retreating feet. Just as the two clashed, the world cracked like glass... and fell to pieces. Hikaru was jolted from her sleep, and stared in the very eyes she had seen in her dream. Her head screamed with the frustration of being left with a cliffhanger. She immediately vented it by grabbing the pillow behind her and flung it into his face.

Scored: K
Edited by Kullervo, Apr 6 2011, 10:25 PM.
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