Eye Of The Eclipse 1 Gods, Kings And Outcasts

Wearing a mix of tattered coa.r.s.e linen and animal furs, these youths were all shouting and grunting while either sparring against each other, lifting logs and boulders or training their archery skills against the worn wooden posts which had been erected at the edge of the perimeter.

Around the sides of the field and often walking through the groups, elders of the village constantly surveyed the group teens, often nodding in approval and offering pointers to increase their accuracy. This routine had been ingrained into each of them since the day the group had settled down in the forest and the small village had been created. This simple routine was done every day starting with sparring and archery before moving onto the creation and maintenance of the villages traps, tools and structures.

Across the training field on outskirts of the village, within an isolated wooden hut surrounded by trees which couldn't even be considered a part of the village, three people were laying on the floor while blanketed in the darkness. There were no windows to let in the light of day and the door was tightly shut, blocking out the surroundings. The sound of light breathing is all that permeated the silence.

"Mom, when will you tell us another story? I want one about Loki?"

"Okay, okay", chuckling while laying in-between two teens was a middle-aged woman with a small frame and long hazel hair tied back into a messy bun. Rather than the miss matched clothes of the people working on the training field, her clothing was made entirely from brown fur which seemed to have come from the same animal, giving a rough but warm and uniform feel. "The last story was about you though Loki, so this time I'll tell one for Rykar."

Over the years, their mother had always told Loki and Rykar that in their past lives they were once G.o.ds and generals who fought against demons, kings and saints who ruled over the ma.s.ses or even scholars and doctors who strived to make life better for the unfortunate. Being able to hear about the adventures, battles and tricks which brought them to the edge of defeat and back again were the best moments that they had. Their only escape from the dull and repet.i.tive lives that they had to face on a daily basis.

Hearing the words of his mother, Rykar who had been laying lazily while fiddling with a piece of dry bread sat straight up like an arrow with a wide grin and glistening eyes. Although excited, he didn't forget to wrap the bread in a thin cloth before accurately throwing it into a corner of the room out of sight.

"I want to hear a story about the young warlord! Fighting against dragons and goblins and…" Getting carried away, he stood up while punching and kicking the air haphazardly while imagining all the evil he would effortlessly destroy on a battlefield.

While watching her sons grow up, Linda had always been telling her sons stories every night up until they had been forced to leave home at 12 years old. That was all the time she could have given them through arguing and pleading with her husband to the point of tears, day in and day out.

Thinking back over the ruthless treatment her children had faced over the years, her eyes grew hazy. Images of countless better lives that they boys may have faced had she not been their mother. Or even if she could simply be stronger than she was. The stories which she had told Loki and Rykar were only a fragment of those that she had spent her idle time wis.h.i.+ng that they had been a reality.

Any life could have lead them towards happiness, had they been born a farmer or a shopkeeper, yet they drew the shortest straw.

Watching Rykar storming around the small room, the mother and son which were still laying on the ground let out opposite reactions. Loki simply glanced up at Rykar, bored and unamused that he wouldn't be hearing another story of the adventures of himself. "do you really have to act like such a child every time"

"Haha, don't be jealous" Rykar smirked while retaking his seat next to his mother.

Just as the three had settled down again, the frail wooden door was blasted off its frame, spraying splinters and damp timber all over the small room while the entire structure trembled threateningly.

Without enough time to s.h.i.+eld herself or her children, the bits of wood rain down on them while leaving scratches and traces all over their exposed areas. Howls of laughter echo in from the outside as a teenage boy walks into the room, his leather-bound feet dragging across the floor as if he was afraid he wasn't loud enough.

As light poured in, the three on the ground were stunned for a short while, however as their eyes adapted they were able to make out who was stood in front of them. A tall muscular youth with roughly cut mid length hair and unkept stubble littering his face. Dressed in the same style as the twins' mother, he seemed to be wearing clothes of a better standard than any of the other youths which could be seen peering in from the outside of the door frame.

"What the f*ck do you think you're doing here!? You know this place is off limits, you better get out before I tell my husband." After recognising the young man, Linda was driven into a rage immediately. Chris, the eldest son of the village leader, her husband, had tormented the lives of her children since they had been born and that had only gotten worse over time. Outlasting Loki and Rykar from the village may have been a heartless decision, yet it also came with its benefits as it meant that they were away from the dangers which were lurking within the village itself as there was no contact allowed between the village and the twins.
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Hearing Linda's threat, Chris stopped in place instinctively. Hesitating to the point that he even made a slight motion as though he was about to turn in his tracks and leave. However, in the next moment, a broad smile was plastered to his face as he turned to face them once again and looked down on them teasingly.

"You see… That's actually really, really funny, seeing as it was my dad that told us to come here and pick them up for a little hunting trip. And while he was at it, he had been asking around for you... but it seems seemed like you were nowhere to be found…" The more he spoke, the further Linda's face switched from anger to fear as Chris began to walk towards them again with slow and leisurely steps.

"What's also funny is that this s.h.i.+t hole is supposed to be off limits to everyone in the village, so why are you here right now? Out of the two of us, I wonder who will actually end up on dad's bad side." By the time he had finished his sentence, he was standing right in front of the three, holding his chin as though in contemplation.

"Get up, were leaving. Now." While their mother was frozen in place, he reached down and grabbed the twins by their arms with a vice like grip, pulling them up forcefully and heading towards the door.

Out of the blue, a loud slap stopped everyone in their tracks as Linda reached round from behind and hit Chris across the side of his face before barging in front them and staring him in the eyes.

"I'm going to speak to the chief. You had better still be here by the time I'm back." With a straight face, she glanced around, attempting to threaten the group before rus.h.i.+ng out of the door but her wavering voice betrayed the confidence in her actions.

Despite hearing their mother's words, Rykar and Loki had blank faces as though they were unphased by what was happening. Even after being isolated from the village for the last three and only having contact with their mother, it had only taken a few minutes of being in contact with them once again before they were reminded of what life was truly like outside of their imaginations. Away from their colourful stories.

Watching their mothers sorry figure running across the gra.s.sy clearing while adults and children alike simply looked on with vacant and uncaring expressions. There was no remorse, hatred or even contempt in most of their eyes, only disinterest. After seeing these looks for the majority of their lives, the twins had unknowingly adopted this expression while around others. The contrast would make anyone doubt they had the capacity to hold the vibrant expressions that was plastered across their faces just moments earlier.

They could spend the rest of their lives dreaming of being G.o.ds and kings, but they will always open their eyes as an outcast, looking up towards a tattered roof under the rolling grey clouds.