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Under the rubble [A very short story]

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Senior Member


First of all:

This is a story that certain people will understand better than others.
It is part of an RP that We did in a Roar chatroom http://roarchat.net/


You don't have to have been in the RP to enjoy it, it just makes more sense if You do.


Read and enjoy. Constructive criticism is welcome. You may bash My work if You like.
But be warned, Nobody likes a sore thumb.


The fight. the explosion. the smoke. the walls came crashing down. "It hurts, can't breathe"
Gasping for air, Narenth looks around. "Where am I? ...The explosion, She betrayed Us. Why?"
coughing, He looks around "To profit; all for profit" Narenth repeats several times angrily.
"Now, How do I get out?" Looking down He notices A large pile of rubble on His leg.
Realizing He's injured He screams in pain. "Stop it! Calm down!"
"There's a building on My leg!"
"Take hold of Yourself!" He stops, suddenly realizing He was talking to Himself.
"It's so small;no room, it's so cramped." Drawing His sword He strikes at the rocks.
Again and again He strikes. suddenly, a cracking sound.
A rock breaks and He struggles free, banging His head on the other side of His rocky prison.
"running out of air. What about Rafeo? Oh no." Jumping up He struggles to stand
because of His weak leg. Striking at the roof of His prison He causes the part of the
ceiling to come down, burying Himself in dirt and small rocks.
Fighting His way free He stands up. Covered in bruises and unable to move from this place.
He feels lost. "What can I do?" He says hopelessly.

A burst of light; the dragon heart glows, His spirits rise
"You wait."
"Who said that?"
"You did."
"Have I gone crazy?"
"What's going on?"

"I must survive."

He sits down crosslegged.
Reaching inside Himself He draws from His magic and assumes a meditative trance.

The mintues turn into hours; the hours turn into days; the days turn into weeks.
The silent figure sat.
"Is time really passing?"
Never moving; apparently not breathing; in his tiny cell, He waited.
He could feel the dry, chalky feeling of the dust as it settled on Him.
"How long has it been?"
"Are the others alive?"


He could feel the ground moving. The ruins were coming down!

"It is time."

He stands up, He draws His sword.
He strikes! He strikes again and again. The ruins are crumbling around Him.
He does this for hours, Fatigue sets in, He drops His sword and falls down.
"I'm gone. I can't get out."
Another glow fills the room; The dragon heart is glowing.
He feels new strength; a reason to fight. He stands back up; determined.

Lifting His sword He strikes. He strikes with renewed strength; He has to escape
He must protect them.
Through the day and into the night He presses on.
Morning comes; He sees light. "I made it." He struggles out of His prison.
He is exhausted. But knowing He has people Who need Him, He can't stop now.

The sun rises as a lone figure walks out the gates and down the road.


The tale has been told. I hope You liked it!

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