This is a story i wrote just now for 3 hours straight! I hope you like
it! I couldnt think of a good title but it will make sense once you
reach the end. This is one of the longest stories i have ever
completed so im VERY VERY excited! I was determined that i would
finish a story, so i did!
~Any comments welcome!
Clatru and Sarleera by Linksquest
The towering clock tower boomed out twelve gongs as the moon slowly
took its place straight upward in the night sky. Cold winds rustled
the crisp, dead leaves of deciduous trees. The haunting echo of an owl
slowly made itself heard being the increasing whistle of the wind.
The village was silent. A small boy walked slowly towards the door
next to the clock tower. He yawned slowly and shut the wooden door
behind him. The moon continued to make it way across the sky as the
sun began to slowly rise up from behind Misty Mountain.
A tall, gaunt figure made its way down from Ethereal Mountain as the
moon disappeared behind the mountain. The man's head was downcast. His
shoulders slumped as did the rest of his body, as if he had been
walking like this for months. The man slowly lifted his head then
jolted to a stop. His blue hair slowly rustled in the soft breeze as
he gazed with wonder upon the awakening town. A small purple crystal
around is neck dangled restlessly in the wind.
The small, quiet village was beginning to show some activity. Men and
women awoke from their slumber and began their daily routines. The men
got up first to go to the fields to till the soil, to feed the
chickens, to milk the cows. The women got up and began to fry
wonderful smelling things in their kitchen. Sudden rasps of, "get up!
Come on get up its nine o'clock already!" emanated from each house,
maybe in different wordings and volumes, but the meaning remained the
same.
"I am Clatru Malray," the blue-haired man thought to himself as he
slowly began to walk down towards the village once more. He had been
standing near the bottom of Ethereal Mountain for more than two hours.
"I am Clatru Malray" he thought to himself once more.
In the center of the village there was the church and clock tower.
The clock tower was the tallest building in the whole village, on top
of the clock jutted a wooden spire towards the sky like a knife into a
blueberry pie. Clatru stopped before the church and knelt in
reverence. He wrinkled his forehead as he gazed at the cross on top of
the church steeple as of he was remembering something from a long time
ago.
"Get away from there!" and old man, his beard twice as long as the
hair on his head, exclaimed in agitated fury. "Where did you come
from?" The old man was less agitated and more curious now that he had
gotten a better look at Clatru— a better look at his blue hair.
Clatru stared at him blankly. The old man stared back. "I haven't
seen you in these parts before, and if my name aint Carl Sandburgh, I
have met every man, woman, and child that has ever crossed these
parts! You," the old man came closer and jabbed Clatru on the
shoulder, "Are a stranger!" Clatru continued to look confused while
the old man regained his enthusiasm, "That's right! You are a
foreigner! Gonna take all the land, and women and kill all the men
hay? That's what you're gonna do aint it? Well… aint it?!"
The blue-haired man put his head in his hands and began to vibrate.
The old man was astonished. Was this foreigner crying? "Now stop your
blubberen you invader of privacy you! I'm going to talk to the
sheriff, that right! The sheriff. You must be at least thirty-five.
Land sakes. You're almost old enough to have grandkids! What are you
doin cryin like an infant? Huh?!"
The old man had begun to walk towards an official looking building
which lay a few yards left of the church and clock tower. He had
turned around to find that the blue-haired man had collapsed. The old
man ran to his side. "Foreigner! Mr. Foreigner can you hear me?!"
Clatru's blue eyes slowly rolled back into his head as darkness
overcame his vision.
********
Clatru could hear muffled voices above him. But they were all
garbled. "Like it really makes a difference." Clatru thought to
himself, "What was that old man saying? It's a language I've never
heard before."
Slowly Clatru opened his eyes and they became accustomed to the dim
lighting. He slowly peered around from behind mostly closed lids. "I
don't want them to know I'm awake yet." He saw the old man that had
knelt down beside him when right before he had passed out. He also saw
two other people: a man and a woman. The man was much younger than the
old man. He had two, clear circles of glass bound together by some
sort of wire which he peered through.
"What are those I wonder?" Clatru thought. The woman was also young.
She had eyes the color of the soil. "I never knew people could have
eyes that color."
"He's awake. Sarah, get his vitals."
"He's stabilizing… but something not right. Tom, you might want to
look at this."
"What is it?" Tom asked as he began tightening a cord around Clatru's
right arm. He put the needle down that he had been filling with red
liquid. "Sarah. What is it." Tom was aggravated. "I need to do a blood
transfusion. He doesn't have enough to sustain him now. I didn't see
any wounds but the readings say he only has five pints of…" He stopped
mid-sentence as Sarah showed him a slip of paper. "Are these readings
cor.. correct," he stuttered. He looked from the paper to the
blue-haired man, then back to the paper again.
"We'll have to do something… it's only a matter of time before he
gets up and begins to walk around again." The old man who had been
watching this scene from the corner of the room slowly began to
chuckle. "See… I told you he was a foreigner. So what did ya find out
about him? Has he got a third leg? A tail perhaps? I wouldn't be
surprised if he had a second brain. I always knew he was an alien!"
"What are you talking about Carl?" Sarah sighed. "There are no such
things as aliens and you know that. So stop your prattling. What we
have now is series. This man is dying from Cala-Friastomliosis."
"What's that in English?"
"His heart is pumping eight times the speed that its supposed to.
That's because all the blood in his major arteries are slowly
freezing."
"What?!" The old man's eye grew wide in astonishment. "I have never
heard tell of such a thing as that! What are you talking about woman…
is she right Tom, or is she pullin my leg again."
Tom slowly looked at the old man, "No, Carl. I wish that this time
she was. I have only heard of one other case like this. I read it in a
case-study we had to read for college. A woman named Rala died from
Cala-Friastomliosis seven years ago. She had been walking the desert
all night, and for some unknown reason her blood began to internally
freeze. She was the only case known to exist. The most the doctors
could do was name the disease after she died. They know nothing about
what caused it or how to cure it. It was the only case known in
existence until now."
Clatru still kept his lids mostly shut as he listened to their
jabber. "I can't understand a single word... but I need to get to some
water. Some ice. I'm burning up… I'm so hot. Why can't I understand?
Why haven't I ever been able to talk to anyone. Why have I always been
alone. I can't even remember my mother! My mother… I remember her
presence… a faint fragrance of sweetness and light… if light had a
scent. And then… And then…"
"But how do you know it's a disease? Maybe it was only that her blood
froze from being outside so long."
"It was a disease," said Sarah slowly chocking back tears. "I read
that report too Tom. It's required reading now in all the Med Schools.
I just never thought… It's a painful death. And we can't do anything.
We're not sure if it's catching or not so we may have the disease
flowing through our veins this very instant."
Carl, the old man, jumped up from his chair and began to make his way
to the door as Tom quickly shut it and stood before it. We can't
contaminate the village! I have already contacted the Mayor and we
both agreed that the death of three villagers is better than the death
of two hundred people.
Clatru opened his eyes a little wider as sweat began to bead on his
forehead above his blue eyebrows, "I'm too hot… getting too hot… need
water, ice… I need to get to water… Fire… burning. Explosions. Mom!
Don't go near the fire! The firemen ill get you! The firemen will get
you!"
"What is that blamed foreigner mumbling? Evil incantations most
likely. Look at that blue hair of his. Obviously dyed. Probably part
of a heathen sacrifice," The old man was standing next to Clatru,
eyeing him suspiciously.
"Tom! He's saying something… but its not English…" Clara said, her
eyes full of anguish as she looked at Tom who stood rigidly next to
the window that led to the outside world.
He turned away from the window and slowly made his way towards her,
"Let's see if we can translate, I do know more than twelve different
languages."
Clatru shivered from head to foot. Sweat was now streaming from his
face. His eyes yanked open as he slowly mumbled, "Flammel… Flamel…
Summel, Flamel Carakrada…"
"What is he sayen Tom… is he worshipen the devil? I know he be
worshipen the devil!"
"I don't know… he's not speaking any language I've ever heard of.
"Dodesh Crallaka mortay! Mortay Summel! Suumel flamel craalesh omer
Lak rid Sii!" Clatru bolted upright, panting for breath. He began
pleading with the startled people around him. "Agrast Morniesh il
laithe! Plep aral Vincorthe! Vincorthe frililil! Vincorthe alad rit
vii sarlli nartru!"