Chapter 2: Rough Seas and Strange Greetings

A Story by Ilerah

Dwenlin heads off to find his adventure with Bronk, and finds himself stranded on the island of Hafen.

Chapter 2: Rough Seas, and Strange Greetings

Dwen woke up to feel the crashing of the waves; Bronk had told him that he could sneak in a nap for almost two hours. It had only been one. Dwen sat up, looking around him noticing the dark clouds, the huge waves, and the lone sailor Bronk struggling with the sail.

Dwen rushed towards Bronk, and helped him with the sail. Quickly the sail was put up, and the wind moved the boat less. Bronk headed towards the wheel to steer the ship. Dwen guessed that the storm was dying down by the change in wind. The wind had died down and the rain had almost stopped. He was confused, if the storm was almost over, how long had it happened?

“How long has this storm been going?” yelled Dwen from across the boat as he walked closer to Bronk.

“Not very long, not even half an hour. In this area, the storms are like that; your father may have warned you about the rough seas around here. I thought that this would happen,” Bronk replied.

Dwen sat back down as the storm settled and the waves stopped. Before he knew it, the sun was out and he was dry and warm within seconds. Bronk tied up the wheel and headed over to Dwen. Dwen knew he would say something to him about either the time left, so he stood and spoke first.

“About one and a half days left correct?” Dwen asked.

“Yes, not that I was going to tell yer that anyways, I was going to tell yer that the storms are like that because of the bloody Water Ancient.,” Bronk replied, “He originally made the seas like this in this area because that is where he dwelt, then he moved and didn’t fix it. Strange these ancients eh? Well, put the sail down again, so we can get there in a day and a half like yer said.”

Dwen hurried to get to the sail, put it down and then looked over the edge of the boat, hoping that a freak storm wouldn’t come out of nowhere again. He sat down at the bow of the boat, and wondered into his dreams.

Throughout the next day and a half Dwen and Bronk had nice weather, and freak storms. Once in a while some supplies were lost, but the boat and its crew of two people survived to see an island ahead. The island was quiet big, but looked like a paradise from far off. Dwen gazed out at it, looking at awe that he had made it.

The beaches looked like they belonged to a paradise. The sand was white as snow, but yet not. The trees looked tropical, but only along the edge. Further in the trees looked more like the trees in the main land. Pines, oaks, ashes, all sorts of trees could be found. No people where on the beach, no boats. No signs of civilization at all.

Bronk walked up to him, “That’s it, the great island of Hafen, a paradise. A bloody paradise. Of course we still have to row over there. Pick up one of these here oars and help me get yer over there.

Dwen sat down with an oar, rowing as hard as he could to get to the island of Hafen and fast. They reached the island quickly and stepped into the shallow water, Bronk secured the boat while Dwen wandered a few steps from the boat. Dwen knew inside that this was worth the money he had paid.

“… The money I had paid,” Dwen whispered to himself, “Bronk hadn’t used it to buy supplies; he had offered it back to me at the inn.” Dwen turned to find Bronk still securing the boat on the beach, so he started to walk towards him.

“Bronk, the money I paid you, you didn’t use it to buy supplies like you said. You had it at the inn two days ago. Why did I pay you the money?” Dwen asked Bronk sternly.

Bronk turned to Dwen, looking different than he ever had before, “I got yer here didn’t I? I did most of the work didn’t I? I deserve the money.”

Dwen stepped back as Bronk started up the beach towards him, “That is not the reason why though is it Bronk?”

Bronk stopped walking a few steps away from Dwen. Shaking his head, then he turned and ran, faster than most old men, towards the boat. It took Dwen a moment to realize what was happening, and sprinted after him. Bronk got to the boat, slashed the anchor rope with his knife, and pushed the boat in the water. He got on it quickly, but left Dwen behind on the beach. Bronk grabbed Dwen’s bags and threw them on the beach.

“Yer may want those, oh and have fun in the land of Hafen. Amun sends his regards,” Bronk said with a grin, “Thank yer for yer money.”

“Who is Amun Bronk, who is he!?” Dwen screamed at the old sailor.

“Yer may not remember, but at the market, yer defended a man named Mike from someone else, that someone paid me to get yer here, that someone is Amun.”

Dwen ran out into the shallows, but remembered that he was not good at swimming. He watched as the boat got father and father away, till he could barely see it. Then he turned, picked up his bags and heading along the beach. Thinking of Bronk’s betrayal, thinking how he trusted him. He headed into the forest, thinking that just maybe he will meet someone. And maybe the place is still paradise.

Dwen walked into the forest, seeing nothing but trees and vegetation. Not much different than the woods at his relatives house. He thought about his being stranded here, how would he ever get back? Finally he found a small clearing, with a pond. He sat down by it, taking a drink and then stretching. After a few minutes he got up, and continued along through the forest. He had nothing, not a plan, not a thought in his head of what to do. All he knew was that he had to continue walking, till he found someone. It was a big island but he had to try, try to find some sort of civilization.

Dwen walked through a few bushes when he saw in the distance a path. He started running, almost dropping his bags. He ran through the rest of the trees, till he found the path. Made of stone, was heading west and east. He decided he would take the road east, he hoped, just hoped he would find someone. A path meant people, and people meant he had a home and possible a way to go back to his parents.

The path was nice, well cleaned and maintained, a little moss at the sides, some shrubs along the edge. The farther Dwen walked the nicer it got. Before he knew it some apple trees had been planted along the path side. He turned around a bend in the road, when he saw in a clearing of trees a massive castle, one higher than the bell tower in Brendomin, and as large as five town blocks.

Dwen stood in awe looking at this massive castle, lines with giant walls. Catapults, and long bows, lined the stone walls as a defense, archers positioned beside them, and in the keeps at the corners. Dwen stared in such awe that be barely noticed the patrol of soldiers coming down the road towards him. Once he noticed them, he put his bags down and waved to them, then grabbed his bags off the ground and started towards them.

The patrol, running along quickly got to Dwen quiet fast. The lead man wore dark armor, not chainmail like the rest but a chest plate, and a helmet. His armor was made of iron, but yet a darker iron than most. He had the emblem of a two swords crossed with the helmet of a knight in the middle. He helmet matched the one worn by the soldier, with a flowing cape behind him. He carried a sword at his side and a shield on his back.

The rest of the men bore helmets with no face protection, and no plume. They had chainmail armor on, with a garment of black with the emblem on it over top. They bore swords at their sides, shields on their backs, and spears in their hands.

Dwen walked towards them with a smile on his face, glad he had found someone. “Magnificent castle you have built there, sorry to bother you, but one I thought of as a friend has left me stranded here. All I wish is maybe a ride back to the main land.”

The knight came up to Dwen face to face, while the other six men surrounded him. “We will escort you inside, where you will be detained and thrown in prison while we check your belongings. Then if we find anything offensive in your bags, you will be detained for three to five years. If we do not find anything offensive while searching, you will be brought to a village to live in, but not allowed to leave this island.”

The rest of the soldiers formed beside Dwen and took him along the path towards the castle. Dwen was so surprised that he guessed that this was not a paradise, or they were very protective of their island. The soldiers ushered him inside the castle where he found that the inside was just as nice as the outside.

Banners of the emblem of this island were hanging along the walls, with the odd painting beside them. The halls where lined with guards, carpets along all the hall ways. The soldiers led him over to the right, were he was brought done some stairs into the prison area. It was not as nice as the upstairs, but nicer than he thought.

The soldiers took his bags and searched them. Tearing through all of his belongings, finding nothing offensive, tearing through both his bags, clothes fell on the floor, and he could do nothing about it. They had found nothing offensive, except his father’s knife.

“What is this, do you threaten us with this, or is it for house uses?” asked the knight.

“It was given to me by my father, for house work, and defense against animals I guess.” Dwen replied.

“Animals or humans? Throw him in a cell; give him two pairs of clothes. Put the rest of his belongings in a chest for when we release him.”

The knight gave the order and left, the soldiers grabbed him and threw him in the nearest cell. They took his belongings away.

Dwen watched as they took his belongings away. He could do nothing; they had thrown him in jail for having a small knife. He decided that either these people are crazy or, they just want every trespasser in jail.

The soldiers came back, no longer holding Dwenlin’s bags. They sneered at him, and then turned up stairs. After every ten minutes a couple of guards walk by his cell. Patrolling the corridors of prisoners, many who were here for similar things as Dwen, nothing but being here.

Guards walked buy, day and night, each time different. Sneering at him, mocking him, while he tried to live with little water and food. Each time Dwenlin would only make it worse, insulting the guards back. Throwing dirt at them, each time he made it so much worse, getting beaten with spears. Many times whipped for his bad behavior.

After a few months Dwenlin calmed down, he decided it wasn’t worth it. Yet, the guards came in and whipped him. They took knifes and beat him with the flat of the blade. No matter how he behaved, he was beaten, and tortured.

Dwen had made a decision, if he was getting beaten not for his bad behavior, but for the fun of the guards, he was not going soft. He continued to insult the guards, to aggravate them. He would throw dirt at them, he would spit on them. Whenever he had the chance he would do anything to show that he was not a prisoner, but someone they just couldn’t control.

Finally the knight that put him in prison came down. Dwen was in the far corner of his cell, surrounded by, well by nothing. He had only one pair of clothes, the guards had taken his other one. He was stuck in a cell, without a table, no chair, nothing. All the privileges he had started off with, they had taken away.

Dwen looked up at the knight, his hair getting in the way with its length. The knight walked inside the cell after the guard had unlocked it, looking in disgust at him.

“You will be released in three years from this date, the offence that had you thrown in this cell, was so great that you will stay in here for that period.”

“I am not in here for that, I’m to show that your leader has power, I’m sure that I was proclaimed in the streets, if not, then I am in here for trespassing, not that stupid knife in my bag,” Dwen replied looking up at the knight, who stared back at him.

The knight took his helmet off, showing his long black hair, and his scruffy beard. He was not to young, yet not old. He was in his thirties, but yet experienced in the field. Stories written on his experienced face of battles, won, and lost.

“You are correct about that matter, the latter guess is correct. This is our island, no one else’s.”

The knight walked away without another word, putting his helmet back on, and walking back up the stairs. The guard locked the cell again, looking at Dwenlin in disgust, and then walked away, some going on their patrol, some going up stairs.

Dwen looked down, three years till he was free. I slight hope was still inside of Dwenlin’s soul, realizing that if he continued to resist the guards, then he would have to stay longer. He would wait; he would wait till he was free. When he was free he could do all he wanted, for now all he had to do was remember each and every face that hurt him. The face of the knight, of the guards, of the other prisoners if they hurt him also. Dwenlin would no longer forget a face, including Bronk’s, and Amun’s. Dwenlin would engrave each face in his head, like an artist carves rock. He had one goal in the next three years, to stay strong for the day that those faces where faces of fear. One day he would be the one with the whip, and the sword. The one with the power.

Dwenlin then curled up in the corner, with a smile on his face and went to sleep.

The guards passed by when Dwen was sleeping, and threw a rock at him, when he woke they just looked at him, and passed by going to the next cell. Dwenlin looked at them walk by, remembering their faces. Once with a beard, and a scar near his eye, the other clean shaven, and young, but a broken nose, Dwenlin could never forget faces like that.

Dwenlin turned to notice that one prisoner across the way was staring at him, when he turned to look at him the prisoner looked away. The prisoner was strange, hunched over, he did nothing, was never whipped, yet he was sad.

Within the day that same prisoner was taken out of his cell, whipped, and then before Dwenlin’s eyes was stabbed, through the heart. Dwen looked at the guards in shock, disgusted at the evil that dwelled within them. He could not understand why anyone could kill someone else in cold blood.

Dwen continued to watch as the guard wiped the blood on the prisoner, and then carried him away. They came back, and continued to another cell, killing another man, then another, then another. Before Dwenlin’s eyes the guards killed half a dozen men. Dwenlin wondered if he had the same fate, or if they had been rebels or something. Dwenlin really had no idea, but he hoped he would live on.

Non the less, Dwenlin found the rocks the guards had thrown at him, and started scraping it on the rock floor. Not to dig a tunnel but instead to make a weapon. If his fate was to be killed, he would try to survive it.

Nothing had driven Dwenlin so much, at the age of sixteen he was thinking of killing people, this place he had traveled to had turned him into a revengeful, man. Making him no better than those who imprisoned him here, he wanted to kill them in cold blood.

Dwenlin continued to sharpen the rock, cutting himself in the process. Dwenlin continued to strive, making three sharpened rocks, and collecting others to throw at guards. He was fed barely enough to strive on, but he kept his strength.

Dwen was not losing any strength but gaining hit, he continued to antagonize the guards, even when they beat him for it. Dwen paid the price, to strengthen himself in his soul, in his heart.

The three years continued the same, more prisoners were taken and killed, he was continued to be beaten, he still got little food, he still continued though through anything that was thrown at him. The knight came down a few times, and killed some prisoners himself. The prison was a death house, and Dwenlin was getting out.

Though the years came slow, and Dwenlin’s hair was long, and his face unshaved, the day had come. Dwenlin was now nineteen years, and he was going to be set free, or killed.

The guards walked down the stairs, walking past his cell to the left. They came back a short while later with the same bags that Dwen had entered this castle with all those years ago. Looking at his bags made memories of his parents flash in his mind. For a minute Dwenlin had returned to the Dwenlin he was three years ago, the nice kind boy going to the market. He shook his head to get those memories away, and returned to the revengeful Dwenlin of the present.

The knight who brought him in came down the stairs, looked at him, with a different face than when he was imprisoned. The knight grabbed the keys off the guard beside him, and unlocked the jail cell. He then grabbed his bags and handed them to Dwenlin roughly. Dwenlin stepped out of the cell, he held one of the sharpened rocks in his hand, ready to strike.

Dwenlin followed the knight, preparing to kill him. Then suddenly he remembered his mother, his father. What if these people weren’t as bad as he had thought.

“You are free to go, I know those charges may have been harsh, but it was not only for your small knife. The governor does not appreciate trespassers. He does not want this beautiful land over run with people, and made into one of those busy cities,” said the knight as they got to the top of the stairs, he then grabbed a knife from his belt and handed it to Dwenlin, the same knife his father had given him.

“Thank you, for letting me free, and for my knife back. Just a question though, why was I in the prison that long, and why was I whipped?”

The knight looked at him, “The reason for those questions is because you misbehaved in the cell. Also because this island is secret, but if you knew about it, we thought you were a bad character.”

Dwenlin nodded, understanding, the knight then motioned for the guards to escort him outside, and then left. Dwenlin followed behind the guards, who did not lead him outside the gates as he would have thought. They lead him into the stables, where a horse was standing waiting for him. The guards got on their horses and Dwenlin on his.

They rode out of the castle grounds and followed the road a ways. The road curved many times, but they followed it none the less, for almost a full hour. Then they found a small village built along the road, which went right through it. The guard stepped off his horse, and Dwenlin did the same.

“This is where we stop, this is a good village, you can live here, or move on if you wish. We will take the horse back to the castle though,” said the guard on the ground, he shook Dwenlin’s hand, then grabbed the horse’s reins, got on his horse, and rode off. The rest of the soldiers followed close behind him.

Dwenlin looked towards the village, noticing the lumber camps farther in the forest. A lumber village would become his new home. He walked towards it, simple, tiny compared to the city he had lived in. The houses made of wood, the roofs of wood, not straw. The village was split into two, one half on each side of the road, no town square, nothing. A few houses on each side, a tavern, and a general store, the town square did not exist, nor the market.

Dwenlin walked close enough for the simple folk to see him, many started out of their houses. The sun was high in the sky; it was noon so even the men were at home eating lunch. Before Dwenlin new it the whole town was out of their houses, watching him come closer to them. He made it to the edge of the village. He stood there as if a cliff was before him, they watched him, and he watched back.

A man drew closer, scruffy beard, brown curly hair. Big build, built as a lumber man, which he was, the man walked straight up to him standing on the edge of the village staring at Dwenlin.

They both stared at each other for some time, till the man put out his hand. Dwenlin took it and shook it, then walked with the man into the village. They said nothing as they walked, the man leading him to his house. They entered, with his wife following.

Dwenlin looked at the house when he entered, simple on the inside, two rooms, one of which a little boy ran out off. Dwen smiled as he saw the boy, who was not shy at all.

“Daddy, who is this man, where did he come from, what’s his name, is he mean, does his mother know he’s here?” said the little boy after he saw Dwen. He continued to look at him as his father did not answer.

Dwenlin kneeled down and spoke to the boy, “My name is Dwenlin, I came from the mainland, I am not mean, and my mother knows I’m here.”

The boy wiped his brow as if he was relieved, “Well that’s good, but why are you here?”

The father than spoke, “Son, why don’t you go into your room for now, I don’t even know the answer to that question, ok?”

“Ok Daddy, I’ll be back soon.”

Dwenlin looked up at the man, “Thank you for taking me in, I’ll explain all this.”

The man looked at Dwenlin, “No problem, names Bandes, this is my wife Mareth. We may know a little bit of your story, you said you were from the main land? Well then, you sailed here, found the theden, got captured, put in jail for some time, and then released with some apologies. Was that accurate?

Dwenlin looked at Bandes with amazement, “Yes almost exact, who are theden?”

“They are the soldiers of this island,” answered Mareth.

“Oh, well then, how did you know that much about me? Has this happened before?” said Dwenlin, in a curious, yet an almost demanding tone, but did not appear rude.

Mareth sat down in the nearest chair, which was parked beside the table, “This has happened multiple times, they let them out with apologies. The prisoners are happy, start a life within a small town. Then a few months, to a few years later theden come and take them away, saying they made a crime to the King, and they execute them at the castle.”

Dwenlin looked at her in shock, “Wait what!? Are you saying that they are that evil to make you think you have freedom, and then kill you? What do they gain from it?

Bandes walked closer towards Dwen, “They gain the peoples trust, and there are those who think that they are good people just because of this. They make it seem like it was an accident the first time they imprisoned you, and let you go. That seems nice, and then later get rid of you because you committed a crime, while the whole time it’s all lies. In doing this they make people believe they are good, and it works.”

Dwenlin slumped down on the ground, his back against the wall near the door. He looked at his hands, and his knees, and threw his head in them. He sat like that for some time, and then stood up.

“Is there some place I can shave, and cut my hair?”

“In that back room to the right, I’ll put your stuff in the room beside it, you will have to share it with my son,” said Bandes.

“Ok, I’m fine with sharing.”

Dwenlin walked over to the back room, inside was a simple bathroom, with a sink, cupboard and a mirror. He assumed that there was an outhouse out back, since there were only those three things. He had previously grabbed his smaller bag, which had his razor, and his knife. With those he shaved and cut his hair easily. He beard was not too long, seeing that he was only nineteen years of age.

Dwenlin left the small bathroom, and then turned right to enter his new bedroom. Already there was a mat laid on the floor, across the room of the small bed. Dwenlin walked into the room, the little boy playing with some wooden toys on the floor.

“So, I never got to ask your name yet,” said Dwenlin to the little boy.

The boy stood up, his shoulder length brown hair covering part of his face, until he moved it out of the way. He had a very young face, yet he looked as if he knew much from his father. The boy walked over to Dwenlin, this time he had a serious face instead of an ear to ear smile.

“My name is Amedaith of course,” said the little boy, trying to act serious, but still he smiled and started to laugh.

Dwenlin smiled at him still standing near the door, “I guess I’m going to be your brother for a little while eh? I have to share a room with you is that ok?”

Amedaith looked up at Dwen, “Well… yes it is, but you have to get your own toys to play with, oh and by the way, I’m six years old.”

Dwenlin smiled again and moved into the room, small for two, just as big as his room at home. The room had a few shelves along the walls, in height with the small boy. It also had a closet along the wall with the door, enough for a dresser and some more shelves. A chest, most likely containing toys, was at the back of the bed, which was against the far wall to the right. His mat was across the room, in front of the door, on the left wall.

Dwenlin walked into the small room noticing his bags neatly by his mat. The boy went back to his toys near his bed, Dwenlin just stood in the room, looking out the window, which was on the far wall. He noticed that it was slowly getting darker, and then realized that he was hungry.

As if she could read his mind Mareth walked into the room, “Boys, its dinner time, hope you’re ok with some soup Dwen.”

“Hum yes that’s ok, anything is really,” replied Dwenlin.

Dwenlin and Amedaith left the room, walking behind Mareth to the kitchen, then turning left after going past the kitchen counter, came to a nice table. Dwenlin assumed that most of the wood work was made by the man of the house, being a lumber jack he most likely new how to make things from the trees he felled.

The family had a normal dinner with their new member, talking of making Dwenlin a bed the next day, and of course making introductions to the small town. Dwenlin enjoyed the family, and Mareths cooking, so after dinner he helped clean up, and then without complaints went to bed at the same time as Amedaith, since he was tired after all.

Even though Dwenlin went into bed at the same time as his newly found brother, he sat awake processing what the family had said. Were theden that bad, were they truly evil? He had all these questions, even though he knew most of the answers, he didn’t want to believe them at all.

Eventually Dwenlin fell asleep, peaceful at last.

© 2015 Ilerah

Author's Note

Whole Chapter this time, not just separate parts, please comment if you read.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Reviews

Riley Justine

Th dialogue is outstanding! Each character really has their own voice. You are way better at writing books than me, that's for sure. Definitely keep this up. It's awesome!

Posted 9 Years Ago

9 Years Ago

Thank you, really appreciate reviewing my book.

AaronFreitas

"Within the day that same prisoner was taken out of his cell, whipped, and then before Dwenlin’s eyes was stabbed, through the heart. Dwen looked at the guards in shock, disgusted at the evil that dwelled within them. He could not understand why anyone could kill someone else in cold blood."

Awesome work my friend. You told this story beautifully, captured some harsh truths in this piece as well. Good dialogue in this chapter also... dialogue makes it great.