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Krilla Has Her Way. 4.3k Fantasy. A kidnapped girl craves revenge. (standard:adventure, 4062 words) | |||
Author: Oscar A Rat | Added: Jun 25 2020 | Views/Reads: 1459/981 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
This is one of the stories I wrote about a writer named Pujal's imaginary world of Odia. It is a world he created for a small critique site I used to own. Members would write stories according to his instructions. | |||
Krilla huddled in the confines of a shallow cave, reading a tattered and torn book that had somehow found its way to her home in the desert reaches of the planet Odia. It was about life in the big city of Elksta, far to the east – a place she had never seen and no doubt never would. Her home was in the vast dunes at the northern end of the continent. Sand and almost constant dry winds were her environment. The teenager lived in a small wind-carved stone valley between high cliffs. The valley was swept clean by constant winds, sand piling up against its outer walls and flowing around the small clearing. Water bubbled from a spring emerging from a rocky hillside, protected inside a concave area carved over the centuries. It was not a comfortable setting, but much better than hundreds of miles of sand dunes and arid plains outside the small natural enclave. Her tribe of about a hundred Bryllon had escaped torture and certain death hundreds of years earlier when a renegade named Yuron had been trying to form a new planetary government. The interloper had been drawing nearer their former home with his army, causing her father to flee with family and friends to avoid annihilation. At least they still had their freedom, although forsaking most of the comforts of civilization. They worshiped the God Lyran, the "Child of Life," preferred over the Dread Pidon, the "God of Destruction." Yuron had been an exponent of Pidon, wanting endless war with other tribes and races of Odia. The sounds of eternal winds went largely unnoticed by Krilla, since she'd heard them all her life, but she did hear a cracking sound as a canvas over the entrance to her home slid aside. Krilla continued reading about luxurious living in the big city, yearning to experience the entertainment and leisure promised by a yellowing magazine brought in by a long-gone trader. “Krilla, girl. Why isn't supper ready?” her father asked, shaking sand off himself and onto the floor, which was never clear of it no matter how much she swept. “What have you been doing? Do I have to keep my eyes on you all day long?” “I was lost in this book, Pa,” she admitted, eyes downcast. “It seems like another world, back East. Why can't we at least visit? The food is ready, not set out is all. Where did you get those phiiny greens, I haven't seen any for ages?" She tried to change the subject. The girl, somewhat unwillingly, put her magazine down and set the supper table for her father. Krilla's mother had contracted an unknown disease, probably spread by one of the few trade caravans that braved the sand, heat, and wind to shelter briefly in their valley. The mother was currently staying at the healer's hut, to keep from spreading the illness. There were a few popular food plants growing in the forests and plains to the west and north of the deserts. They, as well as valuable minerals were needed in the heavily populated eastern end of the continent. Their valley served as a watering stop for caravans on their long journeys. “I was lucky in finding these greens. Armmmani and his convoy came through here yesterday. He paid for his water with them. Enough for all of us, but you better use them quickly. They won't keep very long in this heat.” He ignored her question about visiting the East. The trip would take weeks and for what? He might even be put into prison if his religious beliefs were found out. Those damn war-mongers weren't to be trusted. The gamy taste of heavily-spiced Ammri meat assailed his tongue, reminding her father that he was to join a hunting expedition the next morning. The village's meat supply was both old and scarce. The older the meat, the more spices needed to cover the taste. The Ammrii and Suurii they hunted were swift but dimwitted and could be slowed down by Bryllon mental powers. If a number of Bryllon hunters concentrated their minds on one animal, it would become confused, Click here to read the rest of this story (383 more lines)
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