Awake
Ben Duuude’s second installment of the Blacksmith of Ordon’s tale…
Ben Duuude is the 12 year-old son of Science Duuude, Last month, Ben wrote the first installment of a story called The Blacksmith of Ordon. If you haven’t read it, check it out here:
What follows is a continuation of that story…
“You wanted to see me?”
Steve had been summoned to Ted’s office, a little room with failed projects hanging on the walls. No one answered.
“Hello?” he called.
Silence.
That’s weird he thought, and then the world turned black.
He woke in the back of a cart. He sat up and groaned. His whole body felt sore. He looked around, and found that there were metal bars all around him. His hands went to his pockets where he kept an acri lignum unum metallum, a tool to smash through wood and other materials. He figured he could use it to break the cart, but someone had taken it. He was about to use his head to break the floor, when something caught his attention.
A single brown feather.
He picked it up and closed his eyes. He felt a sudden rush of heat, and then it was gone. He opened an eye… and there was nothing.
Everything was white.
No height, width or depth.
Just blinding white.
He found he could stand and walk, though there was nothing to go to.
Or was there?
Were his eyes open?
He remembered opening them…but they felt closed?
Something cold was gathering around him.
Something dark, unforgiving, merciless, evil.
He could feel dark hands wrapping around him.
Dragging him somewhere unknown.
He couldn’t breathe.
He was drowning.
He thrashed and flailed against the invisible power.
He opened his eyes.
He was in a forest. At first, everything looked normal. He had been in a forest before, when he was a child. In fact, this looked exactly like the one he had been in. He remembered the rocks, the trees, and the little stream. It looked so familiar, he rushed through the trees to a little stack of stones, and flipped the top one over.
The pool of darkness was still there. The little brown feather swirling around inside was still there. All those years ago, he had noticed it glowed, and now he could still see a faint shimmer. He reached in and plucked it out. As he examined it, he felt a cold creeping sensation.
The kind that sends shivers down one’s spine and gives then the urge to look around and run away.
The kind that makes you feel as if there is something lurking in the shadows…but it was not something in the shadows.
It was the shadows.
They creeped up his arms, no longer held back by the magic of a seal placed hundreds of years ago. It had been broken when the feather was removed.
Steve looked up in time to see the darkness reach his shoulder. He screamed and tried to shake it off to no avail. Just as he was about to sit down and accept his fate, a black bird swooped down and blasted him in light.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself at a beach. He saw a stack of rocks just like the ones in the forest. He carefully picked the top one up, and there was a feather. He gently lifted it out and then threw the rock onto the sand. The darkness spilled out and went for Steve. A bigger black bird swooped in and blasted Steve in a weird green light.
He found himself in a strange land made of black rock and glowing crystals. There were pathways everywhere, but they didn’t seem to all be usable. They went in every direction possible, and didn’t seem to care about gravity. A green fog blanketed the strange land he was now in. Steve took a small step forward, and then ran across the path. He ran through caves and caverns, over ravines and poisonous looking lakes.
He didn’t stop running.
He couldn’t stop running.
After what seemed like hours, he came across what looked like a throne room, with a sword in the middle. Blue lines of light snaked through the ground, coming from the blade.
Steve didn’t realize he walked toward it until his hands were on the hilt. He felt the urge to pull it out but something deep down told him not to.
Seconds later he had it in his hands. A cackling laughter filled the cavern. Steve looked up, and on the throne sat a giant black bird, melting away to reveal a man. A memory from long ago came into his head.
The King of the Shadows.
Steve remembered everything.
He remembered who he was.
He realized the setups and tricks.
He thought back to his old master and how his cruelty wasn’t even close to the old kings.
But something felt off…he took a closer look, and almost screamed.
It was him.
Hi! Ben’s Dad here…
Thank you to the many good Mediumites who read and clapped for Ben’s previous story, The Blacksmith of Ordon. This story is a continuation of that blacksmith story. We would like to tag the many people who supported Ben’s earlier efforts, which included exploding squirrels, blacksmiths, and owls:
Patrick M. Ohana, Anthi Psomiadou, Panos Grigorakakis, Daniel A. Teo, Synthia S., Lee Ameka, R. Rangan PhD, Juliano Righetto, @Cooking, Matt Ray, Anthony Lawrence, Sarah Cords, Adelia Ritchie, PhD, Andrea Juillerat-Olvera, Upasana Sharma, un p'tit je ne sais quoi, Bridget Webber, Donna L Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff), London Eyes, Shin Jie Yong, Michael Pon, Terry Mansfield, Paroma Sen, kurt gasbarra, Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她), David Rudder, Darrin Atkins, Aurora Eliam, CMP, Charlotte Zobeir Ali, Carlos Garbiras, William J Spirdione, R Tsambounieri Talarantas, Jim Mason, Jonah Lightwhale, The Secret Aspirant, Joseph Lieungh, Steve Williams, Skanda Vivek, James G Brennan, Viraji Ogodapola, Emiko Takeuchi, Ricky Raccoon, Rozalia Rafailidou, Imad, John Griswold, Gianfranco Vigneri, John Levin, Kasun Ranasinghe, Michele Thomas
These are some of the stories which were written in response to Ben’s prompt in the Blacksmith of Ordon. Please check them out too:
By Anthi Psomiadou:
By Lee Ameka:
By Patrick M. Ohana:
I know there are more but I can’t find them. If you submitted stories in response to Ben, please forward me the link so I can include them here (and my apologies).
