《 sgt finals 》

Instructions

《 sgt entry 》 Hello for the last time this contest! I'm very thankful to have made it all the way to the finals, I hope you enjoy my final entry. As always, I've written a short story and drawn a piece of art to go with it. The art process is included, hit the arrow keys to see the next step and hit space to hide the variable. Story - The thick mountain air swirled around Theia. Svain’s hooves thundered against the hard, rocky ground as he raced along. Behind them, lightning split the sky. Rain fell in sheets all across the countryside as they ran. It had been several days since Eximond had ordered the army to move out. The goddess Gareh had argued fiercely that fighting sword to sword, soldier to soldier, would not end in victory. King Raymond’s forces were far too numerous for the red army to defeat. Eventually, Eximond finally agreed to allow Theia to go on ahead. “Come on, Svain.” She said, leaning close to the mare’s neck. The King’s city lay before her, only a few leagues away, nestled between high mountains and a vast river. Just then, the rain lightened from a torrent to a few scattered drops. Theia shook some of the residual water from her hair and guided Svain further north-east. Behind her, she heard the thunder of great wings. Turning in the saddle, Theia looked over her shoulder. A huge dark shape was perched on the top of a massive spire of rock. A fork of lighting lit it from behind. As light flashed across his scales, the dragon Honsu became obvious. He bared his sharp teeth and let out an echoing roar. It was Eximond’s warning; Theia was on her own. The army must have fallen far enough behind that it would be days before they reached the capital city. Then time seemed to slow, as if held in half-time counts. Each drop of rain felt suspended for an eternity, every breath of wind long and unearthly. Only the steady beat of hooves and the rise and fall of her chest kept Theia centered. She could feel the vision hovering at the edges of her consciousness. All she needed was to release her hold on the world to speak with the goddess. She closed her eyes. Very near, a man hid in the shadows of a crumbling stone wall. His eyes were striking green and his skin deep brown. He was concealed in the dark of falling night and by the vines of overgrowth that crept across the ground. Although his face was mostly concealed by the dark hood pulled up over his head, fear was palpable about him. Suddenly, two men dressed in heavy armor marched past, shoulder to shoulder. They held spears and had small swords in plain scabbards at their hip. Their faces were blurred and unspecific, as were their hands and clothing. The only part of them brought into sharp relief in the vision was the navy blue emblems embroidered onto the shoulder of their uniforms. There was an undeniable sense of danger emanating from them. The man hiding in the shadows held deathly still, not breathing. His eyes were fixed on the soldiers as they passed his hiding place. Through the fear and trepidation, there was also a strong feeling of determination coming from the strange man. The way he crouched, muscles tense, jaw set, betrayed something deeper. This man had been wronged. He had gone through suffering none should have to experience. Although he was whole on the outside, the inside was raw and hurting. And it was because of that pain that he watched the patrolling soldiers with a burning flame in his jade eyes. The burning fire of revenge. As the two blurred figures disappeared around the bend, the shadowed man stood. His cloak fell around him, hanging just above the ground. A long sword hung at his hip and he wore leather bracers on his forearms. The vision began to get hazy around the edges, sounds and smells began to blur together. The scene started to fade away. The man stepped out of the shadows, brushing leaves and dirt from his dark clothes. His outline was fuzzy and indistinct. Suddenly, he reached up with one hand and pulled off the hood of his cloak. Smeared across his forehead, right above the scar that cut through his left eyebrow, was the star of Gareh. It was simplistic, as if he had had little time to paint it on, and black as coal, but it was there. With a jolt, Theia found herself back in her own body. She was shivering from the potency of the vision. Confusion filled her, as it usually did in the aftermath of seeing beyond. Who had the man been? Why had he had the star of Gareh on his brow, the same as she did? Whoever he was, Theia knew he would be important. Everyone Gareh showed her in her visions was essential to her success. But for now, she had to push him out of her mind until he appeared on his own. She couldn’t afford to become unfocused. 《 credits 》 . art . me . code . me . story . me . audio . Every Breaking Wave by U2 . characters . Theia, Eximond, Honsu, Svain, Cadence, Gareh, Raymond, and two unnamed soldiers