excerpt of the day

book, book quote, character, excerpt, excerpt of the day, writing

I wanted to share with you peoples a glimpse from a story I’m working on called “The Oms.” I don’t often write extreme fantasy type stories, so let me know what you think!

The boy screams and I turn just in time to dodge the boar charging for us. I stoop to pick up a fallen branch and wield it like a sword. “Get out of here!” I yell at the boar, but it just bucks its head and digs its heels into the dirt.

I put the boy down and instruct him to climb the tree behind us. His eyes are wide but he quickly scurries up the trunk and nestles into the canopy. With the boy out of harm’s way, I can focus on the boar now. It steps from side to side, eying me from behind its large tusks. I retreat until my back hits the cool trunk of the tree the child hides in. I can’t climb the tree in time, the boar is only ten feet from me. I rack my mind for another way out of this as the boar squeals and charges me again. This time I let out a cry and strike out with the branch. It collides with the boar as the boar collides with me. I lay winded on the ground as the boar writhes over top of me, its tusks twisted around the branch I use to hold it at bay.

Suddenly the boar lets out a whine and yellows sparks rain down around me. Its body spasms once and then the frightened creature bolts into the flora. I am left holding the branch and toss it to the side, panting for breath. Yellow sparks are still visible suspended in the air above me. I watch as they blink out one by one.

“Are you alright?” A voice asks.

I freeze as the adrenaline dissipates from my body, and the stupidity of what I just did rushes through my mind. I just crossed the boundary line, I could have been killed by a boar. What was I thinking? Sitting up I hesitantly glance to where the voice came from. “I think I’ll be fine,” I say, my voice cracking on the last word as I realize who I’m talking to. The only people out here are…

The boy who spoke turns his attention to the tree where the child remains hidden. With no effort, like a butterfly taken by the wind, he lifts off the ground and floats up to where the child is hiding. “There you are, Findal. I was looking everywhere for you, but it looks like this girl found you before I could.”

Oms. My mouth falls open in shock. I don’t know whether to run or scream or cry or run for the boundary line. I settle for sitting in stunned silence.

The child, Findal, leaps into the boy’s arms and he floats back down as gently as a leaf. “What where you doing with a boar?” The boy scolds, “You can’t even use magic properly yet.” Findal is still too scared to speak and just trembles in response. “I take it you’ve learned your lesson then.”

Once the boy touches ground again, he sets Findal down and without hesitation, Findal runs into the forest, disappearing into the greenery. The boy sets his sights on me and I shrink a little, though his gaze isn’t menacing. He doesn’t wear much, just a pair of earthen slacks. A leather belt is fastened around his waist and from the belt, small pouches are fastened. A dagger is tucked into the belt against his hip. A large round yellow stone hangs from his neck on twine. His hair is wild and brown and waves around his ears, just brushing his bare shoulders. His expression becomes amused as he rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s fine,” he mutters. He looks to me again. “Sorry, you must think I’m crazy. I’m not talking to myself, I swear.”

“You’re an Om,” I say quietly, voicing my realization.

“That I am. And you’re… not.” He says, a lilt in his voice. He strides over to me and offers his hand. “You’re a Small.”

I glance from his serene face to his outstretched hand and back again.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says, mildly.

After a moment I take his hand and he pulls me up.

He crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. “I’ve never met a Small before, much less a brave Small.”

“We aren’t brave,” I say. We’re not supposed to be.

“Really? What would you call hopping the boundary line into the Mekokan Forest and saving a child from a wild boar then?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Stupid.”

“Maybe.” he says, “Why did you do it?” he asks, a curious note in his voice.

I stare at the ground, twisting my hands together. “I didn’t think. I just saw that little boy in trouble and I just took off. My parents are going to kill me.” I sigh.

He chuckles and the sound is musical. “Only if they find out.”

-Collins

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