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Chronicles Of Astarling/Part 1/Beginnings

Tim Goodwin

Just Be!
Feb 17, 2016
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The following is part one of the first book in a series. I am looking for a critical and technical critique if anyone has the time. Thank you.

Chronicle Of Astarling
Part One, Beginnings



T’was an horrific night wherein shadows of black clouds progressed slowly across the town blanketing everything within its course, a forbidding mantle of gloom and in its path a sheer wall of rain marched forth in a manner to which one could see its very progress as it enveloped foot by foot and inch by inch of the small, seaside town and its occupants. It grew from a light rain to a thunderstorm reaching a crescendo of fury and finally blowing into an impassable tempest. Every window shuddered and every person and creature alike took refuge but one. A frail but persistent figure leaned into the wind as if peering over a precipice while slowly making way through the now flooded streets while all about the wailing of the storm cursed and hindered the small soul's progress. A stab of light and a clap of thunder signaled the storms fierce anger and fury at such blatant defiance yet onward the figure strove. Block after trying block so very determined to gain the safety and comfort of hearth and home.


The struggling soul fought and won ground against an unrelenting enemy when out from the shadows of a deserted alley way an arm stretched forth and snatched the figure pulling her into the yet darker recesses of an unknown evil. A scream issued from the depths of the sinister shadows only to be silenced by a clap of thunder then all was silent but for the howling of the savage wind.



A streak of lightening flashed illuminating the obscure alleyway and there for a brief second could be witnessed a vile creature bent over the now spiritless body of some poor unfortunate being. The only witness a detached, blind and deaf typhoon. The creature, on a vile quest for its sinister master, the Crimson Lord fled the scene slithering along the back alleys and roads of the storm besieged, town. The Creatures fiendish thoughts focused inwards to its last prey and how wonderful its flesh had tasted and how sweet its blood had been to savor on its loathsome tongue. Its appetite would be satisfied now just long enough to search this wretched village it thought as it slavered and writhed its way through the unsuspecting town.



Lightening flashed again as the creature shaded its eyes from the light and dipped down a narrow walk path that leads between homes and businesses of the sleepy little coastal town of Willow Creek.



The creature now on all fours hastily went from house to house and building to building sniffing the ground like a crazed, wild animal on the hunt for something or someone that would lead him to his masters lost treasure until suddenly it came to an abrupt stop just beneath the window sill of an unsuspecting home.


It then pulled itself up to the window by the sill with long, nasty, blackened fingers and just as it was about to peer into the home it lost its grip and slipped falling and landing on the tops of garbage cans just off to one side of the window. This created a horrific clatter which naturally brought someone to the window.


The creature hunkered down beneath the window within the deep shadow of the house until at last the drapes to the window were pulled shut and all light was extinguished.


The creature sighed with a desperation at having missed an opportunity and then in an awful disgusting sort of gurgling sound whispered to itself, "Filthy, nasty, Ryn where is that pishtor? Greeb knows you have it. Greeb can smell it. I'll get it yet. It'll see. One of these nasty Ryns has it. Greeb'll eat out all of their bones and then suck out all their blood for breakfast I will. Then it'll tell Greeb where it's hiding the treasure. Then it'll tell us."


Then just as quietly as the creature Greeb had crept into the storm-tossed village and found his way under the sill of the unsuspecting home he likewise slunk away back into that dark and stormy night from which he had come.



Twins Barley and Mintin Silverleaf came whirling into the house at breakneck speed in that, I'm a teenager so get out of the way fashion that is so well known by anyone who is or has ever been a mother, a father, a grandmother or a grandfather. They headed straight for the pantry and rifling through it declared in a single voice, "There's never anything to eat in here Mom!"


"You two get out of here, supper will be ready soon," she said in that I mean it tone. "And while I'm thinking about it, you two go on up to your room and pick it up like I asked you to do yesterday. It's a wreck".


"Hey Barley, Mintin, come on out here" Pops called from out the back door. "Gimme some help will ya?"


"Oops, sorry Mom but duty calls," Mintin said in a cutesy, ha-ha sort of way.


"Yep, Pops calls and so we must obey," Barley said in just as flippant a tone as they both grabbed a handful of nuts off of the kitchen table and darted out the back door to see what Pops wanted.


"What's up" Barley quipped as they skeptically approached him knowing full well this could be a trap to get them to perform some most likely physical task like clean the storage building out or help with the gardening or some other just as grueling a task, one that required zero fun.


"Huh yeah Pops, what's up?" Mintin asked.


"Oh, the usual, clean out the storage building and then brush out the gutters. Especially the gutters, that storm did quite a number on everything around here" he said.


So the boys busied themselves with putting together all the stuff they'd need for cleaning out the gutters while Pops just continued oiling and cleaning his tools.


One never knew about Pops. Once he got himself into a real mess when he tried to make a water witch and it turned out to be an overly active bit of living tree. Just as he would whittle off one section another section would begin to grow and the more he whittled the faster it grew until finally it was outgrowing his whittling and, in the end, it just went wild and grew right through the roof of the old shed and kept growing until it became a huge tree completely destroying the work shed and taking up half of the back yard. It's still there to this day. We tried cutting it down once but every time we took a swipe it grew bigger so now we don't even dare touch it.


Gutters complete and tools put away the boys now turned their attention to the storage building if you want to call it that. Pops had built the thing about a thousand years ago or so it looked and it was kind of leaning in places it ought not to lean anyway that being said the boys dove into what would more than likely be an all day affair.



"Hey check this out," Mintin said to his brother while holding up some unknown object. "What do you suppose this is?"


Dunno, Barley replied. "Looks like some old wooden sticks to me. I'd just toss em if I were you. Just more trash cluttering up everything." And so, just as Mintin was about to throw the old pieces of wood into the garbage in walked Pops.


"What you got their boy," he said.


"Oh, just some old pieces of broken wood’s all," Mintin replied.


"Here let me see those," Pops said and taking the wood pieces from Mintin's hand both of the boys let out a gasp for no sooner had pops touched the sticks than they began to glow with an eerie blue light.


"Whoa, that's pretty cool" Barley exclaimed.


"What are they pops Mintin asked?


"Oh, just some bits of wood" Pops answered, "nothing important."


"Yeah but they glow," Mintin said. "What's up with that?"


"Oh, probably just some pieces of old dried wood from the tree of life" pops answered. "I'll just take these and dispose of them," and with that, Pops shoved the pieces of wood into pockets and hurriedly left the shed heading for the main house.


"What on Astarling do you suppose that was all about," Mintin said?


"Don't know replied Barley. "But Pops looked pretty concerned. Did you see his face when those sticks lit up? He looked like he had just seen a ghost."


"Yeah and Pops never gets frustrated about anything."


"Maybe we should follow him and see what he's up to" Mintin suggested.


So out the door, they went, stopping first to make sure Pops didn't see them leaving. They snuck in through the back door quiet as mice and saw pops walking up the stairs and so very discreetly they edged toward the stairs and watched him as he topped the stairs and turned toward his room. They crept up the stairs and peering around a corner they saw pops go into his room and close the door behind him


"Well, that takes care of that," Barley said. "We can't very well sneak into his room now and watch what he's doing."


"No, we can't" Mintin replied, "but we can wait until he leaves and sneak in later."
 
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