Sealed City

This is a fantasy short story which helped build into the world that I'm building (there are a few).

Walking the narrow pathways that formed a spider’s web around the base of the massive Green Spire, was a rather short man. His face was long and came to an abrupt end, eyes that were a dull blue, a common man if there ever was one. In his eyes was a sort of determination, today was the day after all and the only thing between him and it was a large crowd of people. A sigh escaped him as he turned the corner into the Pheasant Square to begin shoving his way through the mass of bodies. On the horizon was the sun, outlining the cityscape beyond his narrow gaze. While the many temples, houses, or shops gleamed with a dull grey blue all eyes were on the sturdy yet weathered ceder stage.

Above the peasants the king looked serious to say in the least. At his feet was the accused, who seemed to look smaller than a normal person.  He mused,“A man shrinks as honor drains from him, twice so at the feet of the king”. That was good, which made a smirk dance across his face. Unfortunately his wife, Clarissa, caught this and meet his now cheerful gaze with daggers. “Now is NOT the times for smiles Torn, this is serious.” it came out closer to a snake than a mother. Despite himself, Torn cringed, as he always did when she (whom he had nicknamed the Queen of Serpents for his amusement) came out to scold him. Suddenly uncomfortable Torn shifted from foot to foot, edger to have this business done as quickly as possible. To speed things up he gestured to the squire that was somewhere behind him. After a few moments a stringy boy with a long nose, the king struggled to remember his name, came holding the broadsword that was the King’s Edge.

The accused could see nothing but faces, though this was nothing new. Some had a look of a hound edger for the scent or sight of blood, others looked tired of so much death being displayed every day and had even nicknamed King Torn “The Executioner”. While fear raced in the back of the accused mind, it wasn’t real. There was a plan here, wheels do be turned, and so far their role had not yet been played out in it’s entirety. Uncomfortable in their position they scanned for the man that was to save them. None stood out, though there was a man that shoved his way to the front row looking rather disheveled. Couldn’t be him, a thief can spot another of his own kind, the ordinary man before him was not one. A hush fell over the crowd, the accused stood up only to be shoved by the king unto the chopping block. It reeked of blood. Below their breath the accused gave a short prayer.

It baffled him how insolent these thieving types could be. A prayer would do no good here, their soul would find no father in the afterlife. Torn shook these thoughts loose and cleared his throat to speak as a king.

“Before me, dear citizen’s, is a corpse. Their crimes are that against me and my family, the exact details of which have yet to be seen. Rest assured that this is swift and fair justice.” He paused, letting it settle in, and positioned the King’s Edge to do a solid cut. Jewels that rested in it’s hilt glinted in the sunlight, it made it this far before the smoke appeared followed by the screams.

Within the crowed the average looking man, whom no one could tell from any other farmer, ran for his life. Around him others rushed to escape whatever terror had overtaken them. It didn’t matter, his job was done and whatever IT was he was certain that it would not pause to devour him.

On stage the accused began to cackle, imagining the King’s face, dumbfounded.

Torn was at a loss for words for a moment. But didn’t allow fear to overtake him. Most of the citizens had made their way out of the square. He cried out,

“FOR THE GREEN SPIRE!” Held the sword once more in the light for all the wretched beasts below to see. Before he could dive into the fray his knights had joined, the tip of the twisted blade cut through his eye. A clawed hand released it with a vicious tug that left half of the king’s head splattered across the chopping block. His last sight was the King’s Edge clattering to the ground.

It was then that the gates closed shut, forever sealing the evil that was released unto the world inside where it belongs. However, if the unfortunate traveler happens to pass by a bitter wind may blow to chill them far beyond the bone.

Author's Note

For all you lovely reviewers out there please feel free to give me some feed back regarding the pace of my story here, and (as always) give me any and all spelling or grammar errors. Thank you for your time.

Reviews

[C. Rose]

(it's entirety) should be (its entirety)
There are times when the POV is confusing, especially when changing from the king to the accused and vice versa because both use the he pronoun. Consider writing this from one person's perspective. More description of the smoke and the attack would have helped me.

I like the irony of the King's Edge beheading the king. The dialogue and nicknames and character's opinions of each other was fun to read.

[A Watcher In Time]

Thank you, it those seem to be the main issues people have with this story. I will take them into consideration, and hopefully find the writing time to get make them a reality.

[David Jae]

I liked it. The pace of the story is good and you set up your Protagonist well enough, giving him some interesting back story.
You're descriptions of characters are good, painting a picture for the reader without going into too much detail.

There are some presentational errors, such as needing to start dialogue on a new line, to make it easier on the reader.

To me, it is not clear what happened at the end and it lacks tension. It would have been better to tell it through the King's eyes and try and make us feel like we are there.

Still, a lot of promise here.

Ganbare.