Dartho (not based on my old RPG)

The start of chapter nine and where we find out about Ben's fate and meet the man whom kidnapped Ben and Tabitha.

Chapter Nine: The Workhouse

Ben felt miserable. He knew where he was and yet he could hardly acknowledge it. It was like a bad dream that was really a reality, a nightmare that would not end. A place every orphan dreaded to go to…The Workhouse. The sound of cogs turning was ever-present to Ben and they were close, as were the sound of lashing and a cry of agony afterward. Ben was upon some metal grating, possibly the framework above the workhouse that oversaw the entire factory. He was in an upright position, his wrists bound behind his back and his ankles tied together by coarse and tight rope. Glancing up, Ben could see a doorframe ahead of him against the brick wall. The door was closed so Ben could not see anything beyond it but the smell of fresh paint reached his nostrils as he breathed in. The smell was mixed with the smoke fumes that filled the grimy air but it was the fresh paint smell that made Ben feel slightly unwell due to the fact he had never smelt it before. Swallowing hard in his dry throat, Ben managed to overcome this slight unsettlement, since he knew it was the least of his troubles so far.
As Ben was thinking this, he lost the thought as the door in front of him was starting to open. A second later Ben soon saw the person whom had whacked him and Tabitha upon the head. The man was average height and had wiry black hair that was strangely flowing from under his dirty brown top hat to his shoulders. He looked relatively clean, if somewhat grimy as well. His black eyes stared at Ben without pity, his bulbous nose protruding from his face. He was in relative terms fat and had on dapper but wrinkled and slightly worn clothes. His left hand held the wooden cane that he had used to knock Ben and Tabitha out with, his right hand held open the door and he stood in the open doorway for a few seconds. He wore the same sinister scowl that Ben had seen before being knocked out earlier. He appeared to be sizing Ben up for a second before moving out of the doorway and stood mere feet in front of Ben.
Ben wondered if the scowl was plastered to the man’s face until the man spoke. He looked more normal, not as terrifying but still vindictive.
“You…are here because under the law you are to work for me. If you do not obey me, you will get a flogging. If you do not work, you will get a flogging. If you attempt to run away, you will get a flogging. Understood?” asked the man sharply in what appeared to be a despicable tone, as if he had uttered these words many times on deaf ears and Ben was but another orphan that would not obey the rules.
Well, that assumption was right. Ben did not pay heed to these warnings, he had gotten worse then floggings in his years on the streets.
Wether Ben's silence infuriated him more or not was not sure, the man kept on talking regardless.
“Now, I am the Beagle of this establishment and know every orphan in this workhouse. You are my…guest…and as my…guest…I expect my rules not to be broken. Is that understood, boy?”


(End of part one)
 
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(chapter 9, part 2)

Ben did not say anything, he knew better then to answer back to an adult.
The Beagle huffed slightly before he stood upright and turned away from Ben, walking along the metal walkway with his cane banging loudly with each step.

Ben squirmed slightly after the Beagle left. He was resolute to unbind himself from the bonds that started to chaff his wrists. Suddenly another figure came from the shadowed area of the walkway, a pitiful figure of a young girl that Ben guessed was younger then himself.
“Don’t struggle, you’ll just make Beagle mad,” said the girl in a soft voice as she remained in the shadowed area of the walkway, probably scared she would get in trouble for being where she was not meant to be.
For a moment Ben stared at the girl with a defiant manner but his gaze softened and he stopped struggling as the girl requested. It wasn’t her fault he was in this situation. If only he and Tabitha…Tabitha! For the first time Ben suddenly felt fearful for his companion. He knew the way of The Workhouse but Tabitha would probably not be able to survive in a place like this. Ben acknowledged the young girl was still watching him wearily, her pale hazel eyes hazed over with exhaustion of work.
“Did you see a new girl around here? One with a moon pendant?” asked Ben eagerly.
For a moment the young girl did not answer then shook her head.
“There were no new orphans today,” she murmured back meekly, her voice almost sad at the hope in Ben’s own voice. “Only you.”
Ben did not reply for there was nothing to be said. He was at least grateful Tabitha was not brought to this place. But not knowing where she was, that was a troubled thought.
“Even if she was brought here, they don’t allow us to keep our belongings,” said the girl with wistful woe, her own left hand unconsciously fiddling with the wrist of her right hand as if something had once been there.
Ben watched the girl in the half-shadows, her pitiful and small frame able to be seen more clearly. She wore a simple potato sack that had two holes for her arms and was also wearing a faded and dirty pair of ragged pants. Her rat-like dirty blonde hair was straight and hanging down near her eyes. Ben felt sorry for her more because she was quite young but he knew the rules of The Workhouse was different then those of the streets, or so one kid told him. But even Ben didn’t know the full extent of The Workhouse, only the rumours from the other orphan beggars of the streets.

(End of part 2)
 
(chapter 9, part 3)

And now Ben was starting to feel that those rumours were true.
It had been a while since the new boy had spoken out loud. Abigail felt uneasy at the thoughtful expression in the boy’s eyes. She had let her gaze wander from him to the ground in front of her so when he spoke abruptly Abigail gave a slight jump and raised her head back to the boy’s eye level.
“Is the Beagle the only one in charge here?” asked Ben suddenly to the girl and watched the frail creature get startled by his stern voice.
For a moment the girl stood there, looking at him with still weary eyes but opened her mouth to speak.
“N…no,” stuttered Abigail nervously.
She didn’t know why she replied to the boy’s question, maybe because of how he caught her off guard and the way his voice sounded. It sounded like the Beagle’s voice that demanded total obedience. But unlike the Beagle’s voice, there was no harshness in the tone, the boy’s own voice conveyed certain warmth and softness Abigail had never known her entire life.
“The Beagle obeys only one person, as to who or what that is…” continued on Abigail but left the sentence lingering, shyly turning her head away from Ben.
Ben hardly noticed, he knew the girl was probably too frightened to tell him everything but there was apparently a limit to even how much she knew in this terrible place. All he had to hope for was that he could use this to his advantage to help him escape The Workhouse.


The Beagle was a simple man. Cruel but still simple. His only greatest flaw was his fear for his supervisor, the mysterious man and benefactor that ran the Workhouse without lifting a finger. The Beagle was the one who made the orphans work harder and if he saw any of them slacking off he took to them with his cane. The mysterious man never left his office and the black-stained windows seemed to send out a creepy vibe that scared the orphans into working to take their minds off things. The Beagle himself got a shiver down his spine whenever he glanced up at the room above that was opposite the small cleaning shack on the other end of the metal runway.
At the moment The Beagle was on top of rhe metal causeway, observing the orphans below working hard at scrubbing the Workhouse. The boys were at the mill, manned to a giant wheel that crushed wheat into flour. A slave driver with a whip that was a gangly lad was keeping them at their work.
Lightly tapping his cane on the metal causeway, The Beagle frowned in deep thought. The new boy he had picked up earlier seemed scrawnier then the rest, he would probably have to do brickwork before his muscles grew strong enough for the mill. But for now the boy was to learn his place, a good few hours in the storage room without any food would teach the little blighter a thing or two. And if that didn’t work, there was always the cane.
Smirking cruelly at this thought, The Beagle stopped rapping his cane on the banister as he spied an orphan girl that was carrying a pail of water stumble and fall, a cascade of soapy water washing the still grimy floor with suds. With a howl of fury, The Beagle hurried as fast as his stumpy fat legs could carry him to the stairwell that seemed to sway with his movement as he tramped down the metal stairs two at a time.
In a second or two The Beagle was where the girl had fallen, a dark haired older girl who was sobbing.
“Get up!” hissed The Beagle with contempt, flogging the girl on the back with his cane as she rose to her knees before being hit.
Uttering a cry of pain, the black haired girl fell back down as The Beagle flogged her, the other younger girls having to work lest they would get the same treatment if The Beagle saw them slacking off.
“Get up now!” barked out The Beagle, kicking the girl over and ignoring the whimper that had come from her frail body as tears of pain rolled down her cheeks.
After a slight moment the girl started to rise to her feet once more, picking up the half empty bucket.
The Beagle pointed with his cane towards where she had just fetched the bucket of water.
The girl said nothing, she merely hobbled along at a slow pace since her back was still sore from the beating.
Convinced he had installed order once more, The Beagle glanced sharply around to see if any slackers were present. The Beagle nodded his head with a satisfied air and walked back to the stairwell, his cane tapping on the cobbled dirty floor.


Tabitha felt disoriented and confused. She was no longer within the box and her head felt slightly lighter headed then usual. It took her a second to realize that was because she was in a more open space. She felt warm and her moon shaped pendant rested coolly against her warm skin. Due to the softness she seemed to acknowledge she was in a bed of some sort. Opening her eyes, Tabitha blinked and her eyes started to focus as a huddled figure at the end of the bed stated, “Finally, you are awake, Tabitha.”


End Of Book One.

(Yep, this is the end of the first book though I know it is too few pages to be a proper book I think. Anyway, keep an eye out for the next part!)

Comments from those reading would be appreciated.
 
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Book Two: Lighnia

Here is the start of my second book of the Dartho series. This is...

Book Two: Lighnia


Chapter 10: Within The Walls…

The sound of the whip as it lashed out had made Ben cringe with pain. Tied up within the newly painted Storeroom of The Warehouse and having nowhere to run made the stinging coarse leather of the whip against Ben’s forearm all the more terrible. The Beagle had apparently wanted Ben to suffer. The first few hours had made Ben think that The Beagle had forgotten all about him, but no, The Beagle as Ben soon found out was not a man who forgets things.
The whipping boy was a good few years older then Ben, in his late teens decked out in common grey garb but with a whip in his hand which he had attacked Ben with a short moment ago. With a sneer, the whipping boy kicked at Ben with his black boots after Ben had raised his forearm as best he could to block the whip attack.
“Vile scum!” uttered the older boy and spat at Ben, the saliva hitting Ben on his stinging forearm that made Ben wince again in agony.
With a look of detestation at Ben, the whipping boy turned and left via the door into the Storeroom, slamming it behind him after strapping his whip into its holster on his belt.
Ben did not move for several minutes, his arm felt numb with pain. With his aching arm shivering slightly, Ben held it close to his body, trying to ignore the open cuts upon his arm as it brushed against the coarse fabric of his dirty undershirt.
He felt sad for his situation but told himself that it would be no use feeling sad for himself because his whole life was a sad story. One that was not as yet finished.
His thoughts turned to Tabitha, the girl he had met earlier, possibly a day or so ago. It seemed like forever since he had felt her hand in his, but maybe it was for the best. She would not be subjected to such cruelty that awaited him. Oh yes, Ben was no fool despite the fact he looked like one. He knew his torture had only begun if The Beagle was as evil a man as the girl Abigail had suggested. And by Ben’s reasoning, that was a most likely chance by what he had seen of The Beagle already. With a slight sneer on his face, Ben began to gently lick at his open cuts on his arm, wincing slightly between licks. As he was doing this, his only hope was that Tabitha was safe someplace.

Tabitha glanced at the person seated on the end of her bed. It was the well dressed gentleman that Tabitha had seen earlier. With a sudden rush of panic, Tabitha hurriedly sat up but winced lightly from a dull ache in her left shoulder. Glancing down with effort, Tabitha noticed her left shoulder had a patch of warm cotton that was apparently taped to seal the scratch she had gotten from the mysterious shadow in the sewers.


(to be continued...)
 
Ok, fine. I started reading it. I read two pages but I was annoyed at the beginning that you did not say who the man who chased Tabitha was and what was the place where she woke up in. I don't know if you say that later on, if not it's going to bug me really bad.
 
BarbarianKing said:
Ok, fine. I started reading it. I read two pages but I was annoyed at the beginning that you did not say who the man who chased Tabitha was and what was the place where she woke up in. I don't know if you say that later on, if not it's going to bug me really bad.
Click to expand...

Sorry if it had annoyed you. The main purpose is to pique your interest....give it a mysterious air about it.

As to who this man..or thing that chased her, all we knew is it murders people...mostly Orphans. Reasons for this are unknown but it will be explained later on.

As to where she woke up...I assume you mean the place with the nursemaid and dapper gentleman.

Anyway, I do not like people who say they read two pages and get frustrated...seems rather pointless for them to read the rest frankly if all they offer is annoyance when they must read on. You will not get these answers unless you read the rest of the book. How else did you think you'd get these answers?

You cannot ask me, for if I tell you it ruins the story and that is no fun.
 
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Here is more Dartho.


(Chapter 10, part 2)

The panic in Tabitha’s mind had faded after she felt this pain and automatically leaned back down upon the bed. Despite the feeling to flee erased from her mind, Tabitha felt somewhat perplexed and uncomfortable.
The well-dressed gentleman seemed not to notice or at least pretended to. He merely reached out and pulled the covers back over Tabitha that had become rumpled from Tabitha’s sudden movement.
After doing this he moved back to his original position of sitting on the end of the bed.
“Do not move yet. Your shoulder has yet to be healed,” he said with a serious tone in his voice.
Tabitha relaxed a little by these words. She still felt tired yet the dull ache from her shoulder stopped since she no longer felt the urge to run.
“Why did you help me?” she suddenly heard herself ask the gentleman.
For a few seconds the gentleman did nothing, merely gazing at Tabitha before opening his mouth to respond.
“It was necessary for me to help you,” he said with sincerity.
Tabitha was now even more confused. She did not seem to understand. There was no logic to what the gentleman had just said. Not in the world Tabitha had grown up in.
“I still don’t understand,” Tabitha admitted, a slight uneasiness within her voice.
The gentleman sighed. He had hoped not to tell her but he knew it was best that he did. But, he had best start at the beginning so she could understand.
“Tabitha, you are not of this world,” he announced simply.


The door swung open. Ben gazed up weakly at the person that entered the storage room.
“Well, have you learnt your place yet, boy?” asked the contemptible voice of The Beagle.
He sauntered over to Ben and glared down at the pitiful waste in front of him.
Ben raised himself as best he could since he was still sore from his beating by the whipping boy and tied up. He opened his mouth to speak but the cane of The Beagle struck the side of his face in one swift motion.
“That was not a question!” screeched out The Beagle, his rotund face red with fury.
Ben did not answer, he knew before that he was not meant to reply but his addled and pain-filled mind was past thinking straight. As for being struck, he barely registered the blow. Ben knew it would just give The Beagle satisfaction to see him in pain. That was why he kept his head down so The Beagle could not see the tears starting to form in his eyes.
“Useless, the whole lot of ya!” enraged The Beagle and turned away from Ben in disgust, walking back out and slamming the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps and cane could be heard growing fainter as he walked away from the door until there was but silence once more within the storage room.
Ben slowly lifted his head, the tears now gone dry from his brown eyes. He could not show he was weak for that was something he could never do. If he did then the older boys he grew up on the streets with would have taken advantage of him by stealing his hard-earned begging money. But Ben was strong and he was not one to take a beating if he could help it.


(to be continued...)
 
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(Chapter 10, Part 3)

With effort Ben shifted his body into an upright sitting position before sprawling his tied up legs out in front of him. Exhausted but not one to give up, Ben inched himself up the wall while trying to ignore the pain in his forearm.
Sliding his legs back towards himself he hefted with all his might and found he had successfully stood up despite the fact the coarse rope around his ankles dug lightly into his flesh. Waiting a few seconds for the pain in his feet to subside, Ben started to glance around the room for anything to cut the rope with.
But Ben’s triumph soon turned to gloom as he noticed the handle of the Storeroom door started to turn. With a look of panic on his face Ben stayed still as the door was flung open.


Ben relaxed after a second as he saw the familiar figure of Abigail standing in the open doorway. She held a crude mug made of clay in her left hand. She came forward towards Ben and presented the mug to him, clasping it in both her hands now.
“Here, you had best drink this,” she said in a whispered tone.
Ben beheld the mug in the girl’s outstretched hands. The mostly clear liquid that was most likely water, rippled along the surface from the uncontrollable slight trembling of Abigail’s hands.
Opening his mouth, Ben moved himself closer to the rim of the mug and gently lifted his head slightly as Abigail tilted her hands upward. The water was not the best in the world. It had an after-taste of soap and dirt. But Ben had tasted worse and to him this water was refreshing. After being stuck for several hours, Ben reckoned even muddy water would be suitable to drink.
Ben broke away his lips from the mug and Abigail quietly put it upon the floor after Ben had his fill.
“Thanks,” muttered Ben. “I needed that.”
Abigail said nothing, she merely glanced at Ben’s face. Ben knew he probably looked horrible but he felt slightly self-conscious so turned his face away.
Abigail seemed to take the hint and glanced down, feeling embarrassed she had been staring at Ben when he was in a vulnerable state. Many boys other then Ben had been given the same treatment by The Beagle and Abigail knew they were ashamed and perhaps angry to be seen like that.


(to be continued...)
 
SimonW said:
Sorry if it had annoyed you. The main purpose is to pique your interest....give it a mysterious air about it.

As to who this man..or thing that chased her, all we knew is it murders people...mostly Orphans. Reasons for this are unknown but it will be explained later on.

As to where she woke up...I assume you mean the place with the nursemaid and dapper gentleman.

Anyway, I do not like people who say they read two pages and get frustrated...seems rather pointless for them to read the rest frankly if all they offer is annoyance when they must read on. You will not get these answers unless you read the rest of the book. How else did you think you'd get these answers?

You cannot ask me, for if I tell you it ruins the story and that is no fun.
Click to expand...

Well, yes, you're right of course. I was just telling you how I felt... as a reader. Maybe others will feel different. I hope you get more readers.
 
BarbarianKing said:
Well, yes, you're right of course. I was just telling you how I felt... as a reader. Maybe others will feel different. I hope you get more readers.
Click to expand...

I know...and I respect your feelings.

Thanks, it seems like this is almost a dead thread....people might read but do not talk about it. *shrugs*
 
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(Chapter 10, Part 4)


The two of them said nothing to each other. It wasn’t long before Abigail had left with the empty mug and Ben was alone once more within the Storeroom. But this was also not to last long before the older boy with the whip had returned.
“Come on, move it ya slime!” crudely remarked the boy with a scowl on his face as he practically dragged Ben from the Storage Room out onto the balcony of The Workhouse. Shoving Ben down upon the hard metal walkway, the older boy snapped his whip before barking an order to Ben.
“Move!”
Ignoring the pain of hitting the metal walkway, Ben did as he was bid as best as he could since he was still tied up.
Inching his way to his feet, Ben felt the sting of the lash as the whip hit his back with a cracking force.
“Hurry up maggot!” snarled the whipping boy with a sneer.
Wincing from the welt that was starting to form upon his back Ben continued to inch up until he was on his feet, hearing the impatient tapping of the black-booted foot of the whipping boy behind him on the metal walkway.
After a few more repetitions of being whipped into moving forward if he wasn’t fast enough, Ben clambered down the stairway to the ground floor of The Workhouse until the whipping boy told him to stop.
Grateful for at least some rest, Ben took this moment to glance around him. There were girls of different ages on hands and knees scrubbing at the floor with well-worn scrub brushes. They did not seem to acknowledge Ben until they heard the crack of the whip within the whipping boy’s hands.
“Enough gawking! Get to moving!” snapped out the whipping boy as he led Ben past the girls who started once more scrubbing in case they got in trouble again.
Before Ben knew it he was led down a bricked hallway, the dark grime covering the old bricks with a slimy residue. It was not long until Ben heard the sounds of grinding gears getting louder as the older boy led Ben along the short decrepit hallway by shoving him harshly and muttering curses under his breath.


(to be continued...)
 
BarbarianKing said:
Well, looky who's back!! I read a couple more posts. Really, I did. :eek:
Click to expand...


Well, I expect you have. And you know I only stopped posting so you could catch up BK. ;)



(Chapter 10, Part 5)

Ben stopped as he entered the new-looking room that had a few scrawny younger boys in tattered, dirty rags hauling what appeared to be bricks as best as they could carry.
The area itself seemed somewhat cramped and the half-finished room was already towering with a wall of bricks being laid by the boys after being crudely smeared with cement.
Ben took in the atmosphere in one instant, the older boy immediately hitting Ben on the back of the head. Ben’s head was throbbing slightly but it was just a knock from the handle of the Whipping Boy’s whip. Having collapsed to his knees from the blow, Ben vaguely heard the Whipping Boy shout out commands but managed to get to his feet and did as the Whipping Boy demanded.
Ben’s head felt like it was swimming but after shaking his head slightly he got over this feeling and went to where the older boy pointed with his whip. Ben soon found himself being watched by the other younger boys for a few seconds before the Whipping Boy snapped his whip which made them get back to work.
“Okay, move it you losers! We gots to finish this building by tomorrow!” snapped out the Whipping Boy with a snide sneer on his face.
After surveying the area to make sure none of the younger boys had stopped working, the Whipping Boy went and sat by a corner on a wooden stool to keep an eye on the brick-laying brats.
Ben was stationed near the rear of the area, a place where apparently all male newcomers of The Warehouse were brought to work on brick-laying duties.

Ben had just started getting into the rhythm of the labour when suddenly one of the oldest boys shoved Ben aside and knocked Ben down. Ben glanced at his attacker and saw the boy just ignore Ben and picked up the brick Ben had dropped.
Without even glancing at Ben, the sturdy yet tall youth turned and started walking away towards the half constructed wall they were building.
“That’s Jacob,” muttered a voice beside Ben.
Ben took his eyes off his assailant and looked towards the bearer of the voice.
He was taller then Ben and had a wry half-smile but his steadfast brown eyes held a touch of sadness that Ben was all too familiar with.
Ben did not say anything for he was entitled not to. He was not kidnapped to make friends, of that he was certain. No, he was like many of the other orphans, kidnapped from the streets to do hard labour. But having friends did not help Ben any. He had gotten too close to Tabitha and he lost her. There was no room in his mind for doubt. Having friends just tends to allow you to lose them.
The brown-eyed boy had wandered off, probably sensing Ben did not want to chat. And he had sensed correctly. Ben thought no more over it and decided to continue on with the work, flinching slightly as the sound of the Whipping Boy’s whip snap as another boy had collapsed by accident.
Ignoring the slur of tyrannical words and the other torturous sounds around him, Ben kept to the task at hand. Hefting one of the newly formed black bricks, Ben scrambled to the half-completed wall and as he approached the wall Ben felt an eerie shiver of dread run down his spine. As Ben reached the wall and slipped the black brick into an empty slot he could have sworn he heard a sound coming from the wall. Glancing around to make sure the Whipping Boy was back at his post, Ben lightly pressed his ear beside the wall. A deep yet low energy seemed to be emitting from the wall. Then, Ben heard a whisper. It took Ben a slight moment after hearing it to fully realise what the whisper said. It had uttered two simple words, “Help Us”.



(To be continued...DUN DUN DUN!)
 
(Chapter 10, part 6)


Tabitha said nothing but her mind was racing by what the man had just told her. She was not of this world? That did not make any sense. But Tabitha had felt something was amiss, like how she could not remember her past before she was found by The Illustrator. She had no knowledge of her parents or of her life before she was an orphan of the streets. Tabitha felt her hand was hurting and glanced down to see she was gripping her moon pendant. Glancing up at the well-dressed gentlemen, Tabitha noticed he too was staring at the lead ornament around her neck. Releasing her grip on the ornate trinket, Tabitha seemed to snap to her senses at last.
“What do you mean?” she asked rather timidly yet with a slight undertone of brashness that sustained to disbelief.
“I mean exactly what I said,” responded the well-dressed gentleman, his eyes moving from Tabitha’s necklace to her eyes. “You are not of this world, Tabitha. Ergo, you do not belong here. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this but time is not on our side. You were born on another dimensional planet called Lighnia. I have not much time to explain all but this should help...” muttered the man as he deftly took off one of his white gloves and placed his fingers on Tabitha’s forehead.
“What are you...?” started Tabitha but stopped as the man placed his fingers to her head.

A sudden calmness came over her body. Tabitha seemed to drift off, as if in a sleep-like state. But her mind was as awake as ever, a rush of images appearing in her mind’s eyes.
First was the image of her earliest memory, the golden glow of the sun on her infant face as her father held her in his arms. Then suddenly as the sunrise faded, darkness seemed to cloud over the window, a sea of blackness oozing as the infant Tabitha cried whilst her father held her away as the windows shattered.
The scene faded, washed away like a bad dream. As Tabitha grew conscious of herself, the crude iron moon pendant seemed to radiate warmth. Tabitha’s eyes brightly shone a silver haze of light sweeping radiance. Suddenly, the light faded as the man took his fingers off her forehead.
Tabitha’s eyes seemed to adjust, a feeling of dread sweeping across every fibre of her being.

“I...do not belong here,” she half-whispered in a soft but audible tone.
As she said this, Tabitha grasped her now cool moon pendant that was around her neck. She felt more at ease, but the urge to run seemed to grip her more then she dared to admit to a stranger, let alone herself.


(to be continued...)

(PS: Sorry it isn't very long...but I can edit more in later.)
 
Unless the additions you have in mind come IN THE MIDDLE OF what you have here, I urge you not to edit them in here, but put them in a new post, so that it will be more immediately apparent to other members that you HAVE written more.

Characters not realizing who they are is a highly respected fantasy plot device. Tabitha seems to have taken the news better than some characters do in a similar situation. :)
 
Copperfox said:
Unless the additions you have in mind come IN THE MIDDLE OF what you have here, I urge you not to edit them in here, but put them in a new post, so that it will be more immediately apparent to other members that you HAVE written more.

Characters not realizing who they are is a highly respected fantasy plot device. Tabitha seems to have taken the news better than some characters do in a similar situation. :)
Click to expand...


I understand...I'll make new posts if new parts.

Well, that is a point. But the question should be: "WHY is she taking the news better?"
Ask that and a whole new concept unfolds. If you understand WHY (like say...her TRUE memory has returned) then it broadens your mind. I like to leave it to the readers to think outside the box, sort of add a new plot twist to the "Character not realizing who they are" scenario. So yeah, respecting said plot device is key to every Fantasy Writer. :D
 
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(last of Chapter 10 and start of Chapter 11)

Tabitha sensed herself almost at peace. Her past was now clear. It was her future that was uncertain. But despite it all, with the grips of her true self now aglow with brightness within her mind’s eyes, Tabitha felt sorrow for her fallen friends of this planet. She would have broken into tears if not for her hard resolve. But the nagging guilt of what she brought to plague this world was enough to make her shudder with shivers to the centre of her bones. Despite the warmth of the bed, Tabitha felt cold, the reality hitting her like a flash of lightning. No, not lightning...Lighnia.
The very word seemed to flash her back once again to that once happy place in her very early childhood.

The fields of flowers shone brightly in the sun. Tabitha felt safe here. That was until the shadows of blackness cascaded over her field of sunlight. The planet Lighnia engulfed by an invisible force of darkness that swept over the entire planet with it’s moonlit radiance. Running, Tabitha hurried to the safety of her glass domed house. But despite the reflective barrier of light that held the shadows at bay, it seemed all but pointless as blobs of shadow hit the surface of Lighnia, decaying the florescent flowers until they shrivelled up and died. Tabitha was safe, for now. She ran to her father, hugging him tightly, his broad arms reaching down to pick her up. Detatching his moon pendant, her father strapped it around her neck before depositing her within a glowing orb of light that shone as brightly as possible.
With a flick of a switch, Tabitha saw a glass tube encircle the orb she was deposited within and before she could cry out she suddenly found herself and the orb thrust from her home. The next thing she knew was blackness. At first she was afraid but the darkness soon faded and Tabitha found herself in a strange world full of smoke and grime. Little did she know she had been followed by a dark shadow, which had sensed her presence as she had crossed the Void to this new unfamiliar world. She found out she knew nothing of her past except she was apparently an orphan girl and was found by a man known as The Illustrator, her first friend in this strange place known as London.



Chapter 11: The Dark Shadow...

Ben felt the black brick wall that had just spoken to him. Did it really speak? Or was he just going crazy already in this terrible place? As his fingers touched the hard surface Ben felt a shiver go up his spine. There was still a low vibration from the wall. Whatever it was, Ben knew he didn’t like it. Taking his hand away from the wall, Ben gave a quick backward glance at the whipping boy that was in charge of them. The teenage youth was still in his chair but his attention was drawn away from Ben, as the short orphan boy was of no interest to him. The whipping boy was snapping his long whip in a random direction. Ben knew if he did not look busy, eventually the whipping boy would pay extra attention to him and start whipping his whip in Ben’s direction.
Turning back to the wall Ben started to get to work, hefting another brick up to an empty space. Glancing into the hole, Ben felt sure there was a presence there, a form of darkness he was not familiar with. Again, the shiver ran up Ben’s spine as he carefully inserted the brick with a hurried motion to take his eyes off the enveloping darkness beyond the black wall.


(to be continued...)
 
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(chapter 11, part 2)

After what seemed like hours of hard labour, Ben felt his body was numb from pain.
Despite his efforts, Ben was unable to keep up the pace much longer. He was just not able to keep up due to his small stature. Before he knew it the world was spinning around him, seeing blackness all around him as he fainted on his feet. He slumped but did not fall over until another boy had bumped into him. He had felt that but after collapsing to the dirty ground Ben was unable to comprehend anything.

Dazed with dizziness, Ben forced himself to open his eyes and saw a blurry vision above him. As he opened his eyes he heard a voice. It was a harsh voice. A sudden pain in his chest alerted Ben’s senses. He had been roughly prodded in the chest. Without the energy to recoil from this, Ben just laid motionless as he heard the familiar lashing sound of the whipping boy’s whip close to him. Then the voice became clear. It was The Beagle’s voice. It seemed to be addressing the Whipping Boy.
“Enough of that now. The Supervisor wants to see him. And the rest of you...GET BACK TO WORK!!” enraged the voice of The Beagle, whom just a few minutes before had prodded the small boy that was on the floor with his cane in the chest.
The Whipping Boy nodded, somewhat half-heartedly and hefted up the small form of the semi-conscious Ben. The Whipping Boy placed Ben over his shoulder as the rest of the other boys went back to work.
It was a short walk but The Beagle was huffing and puffing from exhaustion. He hated to be called when an orphan fainted on their first day. But that was a work hazard. It did not happen often due to the strict routine that The Beagle had issued the Whipping Boy with. A lot of whipping was involved.
But if, like on this occasion, it did happen, then The Supervisor would scare the orphans to their senses.
After his minute rest, The Beagle continued down the black brick-layered hallway back to the main room with the girl orphans scrubbing the floors. Ignoring the young wenches that he towered over, The Beagle gingerly side-stepped past them. The Whipping Boy followed The Beagle’s lead until they reached the metal stairway.
Pointing with his cane upwards, The Beagle awaited as the Whipping Boy made his way up the staircase with the unconscious form of Ben upon his right shoulder. The Beagle glanced back and issued a short bark of command as a few girls stopped their scrubbing to have a quick glance at the new orphan’s fate. Glancing hurriedly back down, the girls resumed their work.
With a grunt of satisfaction, The Beagle turned and followed suit up the metal stairwell to the top of the metal gangway that was half-eclipsed in shadow. The Whipping Boy was awaiting him patiently. The Whipping Boy glanced nervously at the small shack that was to the right of him that was bathed in shadow. The storage shack to the left that was on the other side of the metal walkway seemed more inviting but the Whipping Boy knew he could not go that way or he would feel The Beagle’s wrath.
Moving aside at the top of the steel staircase, The Whipping Boy moved towards the shadowed shack and deftly opened the black painted door with a shaking hand, his other hand supporting the small squirt of an orphan upon his shoulder.
As the door opened there seemed to be a breath of mouldy air as if something monstrous had let out a giant sigh. The room was pitch black and the Whipping Boy gulped with fear, gently moving aside as The Beagle finally appeared behind him and nudged him to the side with his cane.
“What is it?” asked a soft yet menacing voice from the blackened room. “Why do you dare to spoil my slumber?”
The Beagle licked his dry lips with almost a sense of dread. He nervously twisted the top of his cane with his sweaty hands.
“I bring an orphan...” started The Beagle with a slightly tense tone in his voice until the voice from the void of darkness halted him.
“Orphans...” came a guttural growl from the voice in the dark room. It seemed almost bored. “Very well, leave it here and leave.”
The Beagle nodded and turned to the Whipping Boy, standing aside to allow the Whipping Boy to place the unconscious form of Ben upon the ground within the dark room.
With a fearful retreat, the Whipping Boy exited the darkness, The Beagle shutting the door with alarming speed and the two hastened a retreat back to their stations within The Workhouse.


(to be continued...)
 
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This is the part where we find out what the first book's title means.


(chapter 11, part 3)


Ben finally regained consciousness but for a slight moment he almost thought he hadn’t. Wherever he was he was in eternal darkness. Blinking his eyes with effort, Ben opened them again and realized he was indeed awake. But what happened next made him wish he wasn’t. There was sudden excruciating pain in every part of his body. Not sure what or who was causing him to feel this, Ben felt really scared for one of the few moments in his young life. Tears swept away his dirt-stained cheeks as he cried almost freely. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain had stopped. Suddenly, a voice in the darkness. It was one he was unfamiliar with, a low growl of a voice, almost hauntingly beast-like.
“Stand up,” ordered the voice in a commanding manner.
With effort, Ben winced as he tried to stand up but found the strain on his body too great. He was still sore and tired but managed to sit himself up as he found his head was near a black wall. Glancing around with tired and tear strained eyes, Ben could still see nothing but blackness. It gave him the chill he felt earlier when he had gazed at the hole in the black wall.
A sudden throaty laugh could be heard around Ben. He didn’t like his situation and his surroundings.
“Do not try to resist me. You are too weak and pathetic,” uttered the voice after the laughter died down.
Ben had no intention of resisting. He was too tired to fight, mentally or physically. But the sting of the remark ignited a fire in Ben’s eyes that seemed to announce that no matter how hard he would be beaten down Ben would not take it for very much longer.
A silent hiss escaped his mouth as he was about to speak but the sudden pain came back and this time Ben felt a stony cold hand around his throat. The hand gripped his neck fiercely, the claw-like nails pricking barely into Ben’s skin like the tip of a very sharp needle.
“Do not speak unless I tell you, urchin!” threatened the voice as Ben let out a whimper from the nails digging into his neck.
But despite this threat, the grip on his neck began to slacken as if the creature or whatever it was in the darkness began to contemplate with itself.
“But, there is no use in you dying...yet,” the figure said, letting go of Ben’s throat, the claws retracting from his neck, leaving behind tiny pinholes where a small droplet of blood escaped from each one.
Ben knew he was lucky to be alive, he could practically feel the bruise on his neck starting to form and throb with pain. But in this place, Ben was getting used to the feeling.
“I have decided to let you live, puny weakling. Not out of kindness but of lack of resources. Now, get out of my sight before I change my mind,” hissed the creature in a shadowed whisper.
Ben gulped and stared at the enveloping darkness ahead of him. He could still see nothing, despite the fact his eyes had grown accustomed to the vast blackness.
“W...w...who are you?” Ben rasped out, using as much energy left of his available to utter these simple words.
For a moment silence was all Ben heard. Then, the sour note of an intake of breath reached Ben’s ears.
“I? I am not a “who”. More of a “what”. But to answer you simply, I am the darkness you fear to dread. I am the blackness of your inner soul. Around here I am known as “The Supervisor”. But my name, to you would send shivers up your spine. My true name is...Dartho.”


(to be continued...)
 
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