The Lost World

By , Mitchell, SD
“Shhhh!” rasped Cesium as his troops shifted and shuffled. The smells of cooking meat filled the air as they circled around the small encampment; tensing every time a townsperson passed their hiding spot. Dark smoke rose all around them as it inched closer and closer to midnight. Silently and very, very slowly, he crept into the center of town without a sound. They were so close that they could almost touch them. Inch by inch, they towered above the people. Then, one looked up and yelled in surprise, spilling the hot contents of the bowl all over his lap. The alarm was raised, and the battle all but begun. The warriors that were present at the cook fire unsheathed their weapons, and ran into battle. While the ones not there, came out of the barracks in alarm. Cesium raised an intricate whistle up to his mouth blowing and bellowing, “Get to cover!” As the last man reached the protection, a volley of fire arrows rained down on the province, one by one the warriors fell. Soon, the city and everything within was ablaze. The remaining people were herded into the courtyard and the remaining warriors were lined up for execution. The battle was over. Cesium ordered his men to break down every door in the city and bring the objects into the courtyard. As he walked into the snow capped armory he saw it, the thing they had traveled such a long way to get. As he stepped into the room, the wooden floor boards moaned and screeched in protest. As fast as a striking snake, a sword whipped by his face and sliced the tip of his nose off. Howling in pain, Cesium steps away from the attack; pulling his sword out just in time to parry a strike to the head. As the warrior is about to land another blow, he twists his wrist sending the sword to cut the side of Cesium’s face open. A spray of hot, red blood blinds his opponent, Amed, and Cesium has time to grab the ring. He hears yelling and thrashing in the courtyard as the people retaliate. Striking the blind Amed, he runs out of the room and bars the door. As he nears the courtyard, he sees that the retaliators had been taken care of. He tells the remains of his troop to destroy and burn the rest of the city as they leave.

Running through the snow covered mountains and hills, Allan approaches his prey. The white tail deer stands up on his haunches and Allan quickly but quietly pulls back and aims at its exposed rib cage. “Throng!” is the last sound the deer heard as the arrow was released from the long bow. Sliding ever so accurately through the deer’s rib cage, it punctures both lungs and the heart. Falling back, the deer makes a deep imprint in the ever present snow. Allan is overjoyed as he examines his kill. “This magnificent beast will put enough meat in the cook pot for the whole week,” Allan thought. Being the youngest child in his family at the age of 15, he was tasked to get his family their share of food while his family works. Throwing the deer over his shoulders, he trudges slowly but steadily back through the village through the snow. He looks at the sun and determines that he should be home by night if he hurried. As Allan finally reaches the top of the ridge, he looks over at his town. Snow capped buildings and the dark, brown barricade around the town made of the biggest and thickest trees, it was his home. It was also the place of a newly transferred object of the king. Only ten warriors of King Henry were sent to guard it for no one knew it was there. It was the perfect defensive point in the whole region because it was the only town set upon a hill. “Only a couple hours before dark,” he states to himself. As darkness falls, he nears the outer edge of Sherwood. There are shouts from within, and fire arrows are placed on the unseen enemies bows. Allan starts to run toward the wall, down the hill to help his people. He sneaks ever so closely to the enemy archers. Laying down the whitetail by the Sherwood’s wall; he draws his bow, aiming it to the closest archer. He lets it fly and reloads his bow. Allan starts to shot one archer after another until he is out of arrows. None of the archers he shot ever knew what hit them until it was too late. None could yell or scream out to warn their allies for Allan shot to kill. Drawing his dagger from his belt, he creeps up upon the archers. As he nears them, they all turn as one and run for the hills. He turns and something strikes him across the head and all he sees is black.


Amed walks the burned fortifications of Sherwood. He nears the entrance and spots a body lying in a deep snow tunnel. He walks over, grabs the man, and lifts him out. Amed is shocked to see his brother out cold with blood caked all over his jet black hair. He rushes him to the Sherwood’s hospital wing for care. Allan awakes the following morning and examines the trashed town, his home. He asks Amed what happened and he told him how the town was attacked by a raiding group of pirates. How he was in a fight with what looked like their leader and was almost successful in killing him. They were still clearing and burying the bodies when the two brothers came upon their parents. Allan couldn’t stand that they had to die like that. He swore that he would revenge his parents and asked Amed if he would aid him. Amed, with an angry look on his face agreed. After the burial, they decided to go. There was no packing, they had nothing left. Their journey had begun.

Snow was all around, on the ground and in the air. Allan and Amed had just started their journey when a large snow storm hit. The companions had followed the raiding party’s tracks with Allan’s superior skill at tracking and had followed them to the pass. As they had started, an overly large snow storm had formed, and covered the tracks. Amed yells,”We have to get out of this snow storm before we all freeze!” Nodding, Allan supports Amed’s idea and yells back,” Yes, I saw a town a little ways forward we could get to!” As they trudge onwards, Allan hits a patch that is as hard as stone and tumbles forward. The ground is glass as it breaks from under Allan. He is quick enough to grab the edge before he falls into the abyss. Amed, recovering from his stand still shock, jumps to Allan’s aid and hauls him back to solid ground. “We better be careful,” Allan says,” we don’t want to end up in there.”

It takes them two long, tiring hours to reach the town. By that time, the storm had died down, and they were cold, sopping wet, and on the edge of freezing. They had gone through the pass without any more trouble. Once inside of the cities walls, they ran to the nearest house and knocked on the doors. No one answers. They go to the next house and knock, but no one answers. Then, out of the shadows, comes a middle aged teen. He had greasy brown hair, like he hadn’t showered for a while and dark eyes like Amed and Allan.
“You won’t find anyone here,” he explains in a raspy voice. “They have all been taken by them. He sags against the nearest house. They can now see the wounds all over his body. Blood and clear liquids oozed out of him and he faints.

A fire was blazing and snow melting as Will woke. Allan had tended to his injuries as he was sleeping. It looked as though he had been beat and whipped quite harshly. Amed had found bandages and had Allan wrap Will’s upper body in it. Allan and Amed questioned him about the events that occurred. In more detail than the first time, Will explained how the pirates had came through the town, looking for food and slaves to work at what they described with enthusiasm, a kingdom to rival the kings. He also told them how he was found sneaking through the alleys. The pirates had thought him suspicious and captured him. As he was rounded up, he retaliated and they beat him. Allan and Amed asked where this city was and Will plainly states,” In the ruin.” The ruin, a deadly place, was forbidden to any who traveled. It had unpredictable weather and timeless snow that piled up higher than any mountain. It was the lost kingdom of the barbaric race. “Can I join you, on your quest,” Will asks. “Sure,” was his reply. Now, with a destination and a new companion, Allan, Amed, and Will were ready to continue.


Snow crunched under their feet while it started to pill ever higher. There were no tracks; the storm had taken care of that. Will had left to rally surrounding towns for support against their big attack. Scouting the huge city, for he was quick on his feet and sneaky while Amed stayed in cover in a snow cave that ran for miles because he was not sneaky. Will observed the town wasn’t in the best condition but was well manned. It looked as though all evil had gathered in this one spot. As Allan and Amed were making a strategy, Will returned. He had news of help and told them forces of thousands were waiting at his command. He told them how they had suffered from this dictator with the glowing ring, and that they wanted to pay it back in full.


Darkness surrounded them when they took the fort. They had dug tunnels through the snow into the city and attacked at different places. In disarray, the drunken, dreary pirates stood no chance and they fell to many a blade. Cesium had put up a fight with his powerful new ring, though. He killed hundreds with his dark sorcery but fell to Allan’s arrow right between the eyes. As the battle ended and all was won, Amed left straight away with Will as a guide to return the ring of power to the king. Allan, though, stayed behind. He thanked the men for his help and asked if he could do anything in return. They all agreed that he should let them take control of the ruin so no more evil forces could mass their again. As the snow lessened, Allan returned and helped rebuild his town of Sherwood with new villagers. Everything was back to normal now. The day was theirs.





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