Awakening of Lirto-Preview

Hi, this is hopefully the first of a set of stories a plan on writing. This is simply a Preview of the first short story I'm doing and it's to draw a few early readers and hopefully get some useful feedback. It's not as complete of as smooth as I would like but that's work for the main piece. I hope you enjoy it

Your struggles and suffering will forge your path 

      Those words spun and repeated in his mind even after so many years. He could not shake them. While they were true, they were not the whole picture. A half-truth based on the negatives. Lirto regarded. His dad had been pessimistic and miserable in the last years before he had left home, he'd spilt those words upon Lirto during that time. But out here, those envenomed words won't reach me.

      A harsh jolt pushed him from his thoughts. The horse he was on had stumbled and slowed its pace. Its head sagged and he could hear the accelerated, laborious breaths. The turf upturning under the weight of its steps. It was a brown Palfrey known for being nimble on its hooves. Chosen to transport Lirto and his assets to Rupes' fort for the finalization of his Grand Knight training and had been going strong until now. Luckily for you little horse, you can rest soon as we are nearly there.

      Up ahead the narrow path which was lined by trees opened up into a clearing. The lone mountain in the North once again becoming visible in the gap, reaching beyond the scattered clouds. Snow rested on its distant peak. The Lanver mountain range stood off to the west still obscured by the forest. It would be visible soon. A sight worthy of awe. An occasional clang or jingle of metal emanated from behind Lirto. Armor and equipment chaffing on the back of the horse. On the horizon, in the shadow of the mountain, the silhouette of the grey stoned keep rose. He tapped the stirrups and gripped the worn leather reign as he rocked back slightly, the Palfrey picking up pace. Lirto's hair ruffled and he smelt traces of smoke on the southernly breeze.

      A short while later after he had dismounted and his horse had been catered to. A crowd had gathered around him. The booming chant of their voices echoed in the air as he pushed through the crowd, heavy hands caressed and slapped his shoulders in congratulatory celebration. Lirto could see the Fort fully now. Its demanding, solitary grey outline among the wall of green that was the surrounding forests. It loomed just over the head of his comrades who cheered for him. He was finally here. The last 2 years of training had led up to this moment. Ecstatic with joy, the chants around him were no more than mumbles competing for clarity, "Slay the beast" pierced one voice. Clearer than others over the mess of noise. Lirto's blonde though slightly ginger hair flowed while a gust of wind blew through the crowd. However, the breeze provided no respite from the assault of the foul stench of the hundreds of worn soldiers surrounding him, his nose wrinkled at the smell. Fatigue on many faces and the salt of their sweat almost palpable on his tongue. His skin once a slightly tanned white tone had long since turned greasy and brown from the mass of bodies surrounding him.

      The vivid energy from the crowd was intoxicating and overwhelming. Losing his thoughts in the bank of fog. Mysterious hands dragged Lirto and the towering mass of stone sat on its mound of dirt nearing ever closer. Rupes' Fort finally stood right before him. The regional Fort of Tarapae. Its immense dark grey walls contrasting the blue sky and the distant white mountain peak. A great oak gate imbued with thick, scratched metal bands lay in the face of the Fort sparkling slightly from the high sun. Thrice as high as a man. Gradually swinging open with a deafening groan. Voices ceased around him, drowned out. Hair on his arms and neck stood on edge and a chill washed down his spine. Intrepidation fell upon Lirto for what the day ahead held in store. From the space that the gate had occupied a silhouette emerged adorned in fine Light blue robes. It was closely followed by several guards. The men formed a path through the crowd as the figure in the robes approached with slow strides, passing through the crowd and men on either side bowed at his presence. Upon reaching Lirto the robed man reached a handshake to him.

      "Welcome to Rupes' Fort, Knight Lirto. I am your host Fort Commander Nathar." He announced.

      Lirto could see the white albeit slightly tanned Commander Nathar stood in front of him. Dark brown hair flickering in the breeze and a stubby injured nose stood over a well-trimmed beard. The man was from a more northern reach due to his complexion, analysed Lirto. Scars covered various areas of the commander's body. Advancing a step, Nathar's sheathed sword swung at his waist its tip brushing the grass. He also noted the strangely scared fingertips in regular parallel lines on Nathar's extended hand. Mimicking Nathar's gesture, he grasped the hand and embraced it with a firm grip. The foreign hand felt rough and ribbed against Lirto's skin.

      Advancing his gaze upwards but still looking slightly downwards. Lirto locked with Nathar's intense stare and his beady, hazel bloodshot eyes surveying the knight stood before him assessing. Paying particular attention to Lirto's heavily muscled build and to his scarred, hairless hands and arms. Sweat licked at Lirto's palms. Retreating a step, perturbed by the gaze. Lirto opened his mouth to speak, however, Nathar boomed to the silent crowd 

      "It is not every day that one kills a dragon, but it is rarer a day that a man becomes a Grand Knight!"

      Upon the finish of his words cheers, jeers and shouts erupted from the energetic crowd. Silence was quickly restored with the raising of the commander's arm.

      "A small feast has been arranged in anticipation of Lirto's arrival and achievement of becoming a Grand Knight all while having the honour to kill a dragon," Continued Nathar addressing the crowd.

      With that, the commander promptly slipped back into the ranks of his guards and disappeared into the mass. Heading towards the gatehouse. Bells echoed across the courtyard of the Fort and onto the gathering of men outside of the Fort's vast walls. A face turned to Lirto.

      It announced "That is our cue to lunch, sir."

      The crowd slowly started to surge towards the open gates of the fort and the faces disappeared into the masses. The murmur of hundreds of men started again. Wet flesh and cold metal pressed against Lirto on all sides. Claustrophobia loosely tormenting him.

      The trampled dirt that had kicked up a fine dust that dried his mouth turned to worn stone slabs underfoot as he stumbled towards the gate encircled by the warm mass of bodies. The vast grey wall engulfed the sunlight. Two large portcullis hung from the ceiling at either end of the gatehouse akin to giant metal spiders awaiting prey. Boots echoed off the walls. Squinting, the sun bright in his eyes as he emerged out of the gatehouse. Adjusting to the light he pushed his way out of the mass. Free of the bodies. Lirto observed his surroundings as the smell of bodies faded. Dozens of people were dotted around the bailey of the Fort attending to tasks. Stables were between him and another gatehouse slightly across the Fort from him. The occasional whinny of a horse just audible. Focusing his gaze right. In the centre of the bailey was a large indent in the ground. A few soldiers were sparing around a thick stone pillar. Further on, two large stone buildings stood against the bailey's wall, of which he had noted there were 5, which formed the defensive structure. The furthest building was considerably taller and slightly larger in width it's central open gate was where the collection of soldiers were meandering towards. That must be the keep. I should probably go there. Lirto considered.

      A slow trek through the bailey later Lirto squished against the bodies of soldiers again as he merged with them filtering into the gateway of the keep. Guards ahead stood alert. Scanning over the soldiers entering the keep. They gradually got closer with each step. Echoes of festivities erupted in bursts from the interior of the keep. The smell of smoke and food lightly wisped in the air. Hunger panged in his stomach as images of food floated into his mind. The food smells food, when did I last eat?  A firm hand fell on his shoulder rousing him from his brief daydream. 

      "Sir, you need to come with us," A deep voice stated from behind. 

      Lirto realised it was a guard and two more were approaching.

      "I will follow you, but why do I need to be escorted?" questioned Lirto.

      "We are showing you to your seat. Knight Lirto-" a second voice from behind stated  "-you are the guest of honour" another finished.

      Four guards? Why so many?

      Lirto responded "Then show the way." 

      The grasp of a hand slipped from his shoulder.

      Sometime later after he had lost count of the steps. The boots still clacked resonating down the stone passage as the guards' armour chinked and shifted. Stone after stone slab they had passed. The smell of smoke tickled his lungs evidence of the source of the lighting in the otherwise dark passageways.

      "This is another way to the hall for the feast. We don't have to go through the mush pit this way" informed one guard, "it gets you closer to your seat too."

      "Thank you," Lirto replied. 

      A guard enquired "So, where do you come from?" 

      "I'm from a little ways north of here" -nearly tripping on an uneven slab, he continued- "a village called Saximaw."

      "Ah and guessing from the state of your hands and arms you were a smithy's boy too?" A guard behind him quipped "After all a farmhand's arms don't end up with scars quite like that."

      Lirto responded "Yes, fire and molten metal have a signature bite."  

      "How long were you a blacksmith for then?" Questioned another guard who was behind him.

      "Around 8 years. I started learning when I was 10. After which I joined the military" stated Lirto.

      The group slowed to a halt next to a door which appeared out of the shadows of the passageway. One guard moved to the door and opened it. Lirto cringed at the sudden blast of noise as the festivities made themselves known, after which he and the other 3 remaining guards then passed through the doorway. Their hair getting caressed by the short archway.

      The vastness of the hall engulfed them akin to a great beast's maw. Vivid smells of food floated on the air. Laughter and music roared in a deafening fashion. Tables and chairs sprawled throughout the length of the hall. Men and the occasional woman filled the expanse like spilled sand their heads visible in the massive tangle of bodies. Glittering of light bouncing off armour betrayed the numerous guards stationed along the walls the maroon emblem of Lezuria just visible on some of their chest plates. Stained windows coloured the room, while braziers fought the dark from the corners and confines. Smoke danced like wisps on the ceiling making banners gently ripple in their wake. A skillfully embroidered emblem of Lezuria, present on each. Food of varying types lined the long tables dotted on numerous plates splattered randomly like wet paint. In the expanse of food was a great variety to suit any person's taste. A few emptied jugs already littered the space around the plates. Alcohol-fueled laughter already audible.

      Chicken, pork, breads and mead. The thought permeated his mind through sight and smell. A slow rumble sounded through Lirto. Sourced from his stomach, while saliva wetted his lips. Swallowing to avoid drooling at the sight before him. The temptress of the food and mead need not work hard to entice him.

      "Lirto... hello?" a guard woke him from his food-induced trance "Are you ready to come to your seat yet?"

      Dumbstruck from the daze Lirto responded "Yes. That would be good" 

      The Guard pointed out the raised platform at the closest end of the tables. It was a stubby, boxy shape with a table at its front. A few chairs in the centre and a flight of stairs at the back. A wood handrail circled the top. Shuffling towards the platform. Feet scuffing the stone. Thoughts of food weighed on his mind as much as the weight of it would on his body after eating. How long did I ignore that guard? It's silly to get caught up like that. Scalding himself for his loss of awareness. That was a daft mistake to make. His head tilted back as he glanced up at the platform above himself, the wood steps at his feet. Nathar's outstretched hand beckoned Litro's grasp as he pulled him up the creaky steps. 

      Nathar announced "Welcome to where royalty stand" Confidence and pride laced in his words "Today that means myself and you. Remember to smile on your subjects from here" 

      "Thank you" Stammered Lirto, having to raise his voice to hear his own words.

      "As you are the guest of honour and this is a special occasion. I have requested that you be served Draven Ribs" Boasted Nathar.

      What is Draven? I've never heard of it before.

He Questioned "Draven? What is that?"

      "Draven is a delicacy. The food of royalty. An especially difficult meat to supply" Stated Nathar.

      Lirto manoeuvring around Nathar, grabbed the back of his seat and moved to get seated. A grand rack of ribs sat upon a plate that dwarfed any other he had seen before. Demanding his attention. Juices glistened on the brown seared flesh, a glow radiating from it. Broad cut blackened bones poked out the edges of the meat giving it structure. 

      "Don't worry about the glow it has. All cursed beasts have meat which glows when you cook it" affirmed Nathar.

      "Cursed beasts?" Queried Lirto

      "Cursed beasts are abominations which have strayed from Fenoth. They are to be hunted and culled to appease Fenoth. Like the dragons we are eradicating. Be careful though as they are strong and men make whispers of them having witchcraft or dark powers." Warned Nathar "Though I would say the witchcraft bit is from soldiers with damaged egos after losing a fight against some dumb beast. Who are too embarrassed to admit it and spread it at taverns with loose lips."

      Rumours of witchcraft? No wonder they are being hunted.

      "I see. It makes sense why I do not know of them. Hunting creatures is no job of mine. However, they do sound rather dangerous." Retorted Lirto

      Nathar confirmed "It is no role of yours you are right. Your job as an upcoming Grand Knight will be to act as a force of power against heretics and rebel groups. To crush them if they will not concede to the Caust and our royalty. There are many nomads as well as a non-believer group in the Northern reaches I assume you will be sent there. But this is nothing a smart man like you does not already know though" 

      Lirto glanced at Nathar. Movement catching his eye. The commander raised a rib from his plate balanced between his hands it was comically large. Guess that's the end of that conversation. Attention back to his own plate Litro pulled a rib free from the rack raising it to take a bite. Juices and torn flesh attacked his mouth. Flavour running rampant. The textures varied but it mainly melted in his mouth and the taste was unique but uncanny. It almost tastes like I'm eating Venison, It's delicious. There's a strange feeling in my mouth though. Like a fire without the heat... radiance. His Jaws didn't ache from chewing but instead felt energised and rejuvenated with every bite. Looking over the end of his table people were sprawled the length of the hall sharing food, drink and talk. Luckily Lirto had gone deaf to the once thunderous room as his ears had adjusted by now. Though he felt connected to the people in the room. A warm buzz came over him and a smile formed on his lips. Their joy and celebration was palpable it was a truly bizarre sensation. The feelings of the people in the hall affecting him as if they were his own. Even the wood handrail of the platform around him seemed to call to him, craving for his word. An intricate pattern of swirls carved into its surface. It was fascinating and if he had told it to move he was sure it would.

      Craving another bite, Lirto's attention swerved back to his plate. There was so much more he was aware of now. He felt connected to everything around him, as if tethered to it all. It must be this food, that is what has to be causing this sensation. Right? A heavy weight pulled on the edge of his consciousness. Joy sapped away from him, his smile fading. He shivered as cold washed over him and the colour sapped from the room.

      Another presence invaded his mind. Heavy and nauseating. Smoke filled Lirto's nostrils. An intense scent of recent fire. Thick and sooty. Sharp pains and agony flowed deep into his body. His vision fogged and faded. A dragon appeared through the mist. Small and grey. It was the only thing visible and a void of grey swirled behind it. Its foreign presence flowed into his thoughts. Help me, it hurts. The agonised words echoed through the fog. The vision and sensations started to fade, the hall once visible again.

      What the fuck was that. Was that a dragon? But it was so small? His lungs burned and screamed for oxygen. His eyes raced along his now raised arms scanning. No blood or injuries were present. He no longer felt the weight of any foreign presence. Clarity had also been restored. I don't think that was the food this time. Why did I see a dragon? His pulse quickened, and hair on the back of his neck shot up, an involuntary gasp for air, he had not been breathing. The tinnitus in his ears ceased. Stomach still spinning and a throb in his head his appetite lost.

      Nathar gave a confused stare at him. "Are you alri..."

      A roar filled the hall. Vibrations running wild throughout the keep. Lirto's whole body rocked. Drinks dropped from hands and shattered. People fell. After a few seconds, it stopped. Silence was all that was left in the vast room. So many people and so many items, but only pure silence had been left. Not a word or a whisper, not the pluck of a string or the smash of a fallen glass. Nothing. Bewildered faces shared glances across the room.

      "DEATH TO THE DEMON" A sole voice shouted in the hall. Shattering the proxy authority of silence.

      Voices numerous in number all cheered in agreement. Silence banished in the hall again. Festivities resumed. The energy flowing vividly again. The noised all returned feeling louder than ever. Encroaching Lirto on all sides slowly crushing him in tune to the cold blood running through his veins. A tightness on his chest as if wearing a slim corset. Can I really kill that dragon?

- Any Feedback or recommended tags is appreciated (Not familiar with Sofurry tag system).