- STORY -

I have decided to allow postings on each blog...which I will just have to monitor for the sillyness and spam that has become so prevailent.

I am happy to bring you the first small part of Vander's Destiny. It is a story that has been forming in my head for the last year. I hope you enjoy it. Weekly installments as further chapters are written will be posted here as well.

- VANDER'S DESTINY -

Prologue -Pains of Youth-

A small boy sat atop a thatchwork hut. His small bone structure and lack of nourishment gave him the look of someone 5 years younger then he was. His grey eyes were the only remarkable feature about him, as they were the cool grey of a foggy day, which the sun does not penetrate. Chewing on a straw from the very roof he was sitting on, his brow creased as he was deep in thought. The sun dropped slowly into the hills, signaling the end of the long summer day.

His thoughts grew dark, and dark they were... for you see a boy of the age of 15 was considered to be "of age" in these hard times, and soon Vander would be sent to the monastery to learn, grow, and become a man. He did not want to leave his family that he loved tenderly and go learn about being a boring adult. This simply was not a fun idea, and it caused him great pains of anxiety in his stomach, every time he thought of it. His Elder Brother Phillip had gone to the monastery before him, which meant he'd have one family member there, but still it pained him so. His one place of happiness from this mean and hurtful world, was his home.

His Mother had loved him so much, and had always held him when lonely feelings seemed to ebb into his little brain. Many nights he lay in her arms as she sat by the fire, rocking him to sleep. Too many times he had tried to play with Phillip and the other children of the town in days now past, and had been hurt...because of his small stature. It wasn't fun to always lose either, because no one likes to play with no hope of winning.

Oh they played many games in those days and times. Usually it had to do with a persons strength, like stone throwing, or boulder hopping, which required an advanced level of agility. Simple games they were, and the time that passed playing these games was worth the humiliation of being the smallest. I wish I was ten feet tall! Vander thought with a grin. Then all the mean kids in town would be sorry...because I would win all the games...and then I'd squish em flat for being so mean!

His grin slowly changed into a frown as he remembered something painful from just a few days ago. Earlier in the week, a boy named Grazier had knocked him to the ground, causing his hands to hurt so badly, as they had scraped on the rough cobblestones that paved a small road that wound through town, and eventually monasteryMonestary courtyard. But what hurt the most, was when Grazier had punched him in the nose, causing blood to drip from his face as the other kids pointed and jeered.

Frustration overwhelmed him, causing tears to come to his eyes. Boulderous drops came crashing down into his arms, as the sobs racked his little body. He just couldn't understand why everything seemed to go wrong for him.
These were selfish thoughts, Vander knew...but he just couldn't stop thinking, Why do they always pick on me?

The other children in school were products of very little to do and not enough discipline. But what could the townspeople do? It wasn't as if they could afford to pay others to watch their children. And the countless hours working in their own fields, or perhaps the King's stables, or the local smithery, really didn't allow these parents much time to look after their own. That is, assuming the parents cared enough to do anything.

It was common knowledge that Grazier's Father was a drunk, and at night, if he ever caught Grazier, would beat him soundly before passing out at the Tavern known as "Pierrow's Wedge", which was located on the edge of town. Many of the children were also neglected and abused in a like manner, and it would take a miracle for someone as small as Vander was to make it past the next few years alive.

Vander wiped his face on a piece of sleeve that was often soaked by sad bouts like the one he just had been through. Slowly he edged his way over to the side of the house and climbed down a ladder his father had made. The sun now gone, the birds had stopped their chirping, and it was finally time to drop into the realm of sleep, where his painful world seemed to disappear... a small comfort for such a small boy.