Day 10 – Darunsyam – Part 1

I have actually thought about this one – but I am really, really, really tired so it’s come out all wrong and horrible.


I want this to be a story told over 10 parts. Or, as I wanted to put it originally, a one off story with nine sequels. I just wish the first one had been better… but I’m so tired and I have a headache. Next one might be next week, tomorrow. Who knows. I need to think about this one properly as I think it has some vague potential to be interesting – or at least mildly irritating.



Word count: 527


Karinthium was a troubled land. It’s landscape bore the scars of many wars. The mountains were graveyards for the generations of men that fought tireless for their own causes; their own leaders and their own myths of right and wrong. Though not a single battle had been waged in over four generations, Karinthium was still a world ill at ease. The world was but masked in a era of dull hope and the forests and fields were shelters for the whispers of old feuds.


The four tribes in Karinthium had declared a ceasefire and lived in isolation from each other in separate corners of the world. They did not trade with each other. They did not cross each other’s boundaries. They were four little worlds within a world and each thought they were the better of them all.



The Ethyris tribe lived in the southern hemisphere. They were one of the more peaceful tribes. They believed in magic and fate and built their civilisation around such principals. Every generation was taught the skills and lessons of prophecy and how to use their magic wisely. They believed that magic was all around them and that only the very skilled could manipulate it to their advantage. The Ethyrians had lost too much in the great wars to ever contemplate a true peace. They kept their boundaries well guarded and refused entry or exit for anyone.


The great city, the capital, housed the parliament of magic and prophecy. There they decided the fate of those who did not adhere to law. Most of the tribe lived outwith the city and resided in small villages scattered around the countryside. They country folk were more peaceful than the townsfolk. They lived a simple life of farming and family.


It was to the Ethyrians that Syme belonged to and in the little village of Iagara, his gaffer had just slammed the door on his barn in anger.


Syme picked up the bucket and brush that the gaffer had thrown at his feet. Once again he was alone in the barn that seemed be his home. The tall familiar rafters above let in a slither of daylight and the smell of the mountain of hay was as home as his pillow at night. Syme filled the bucket by the fountain in the corner, got down on his knees and began to scrub.


It was the day of Everln. The fourth sunset after the longest day. According to Ethyrian legend, it marked the gate keeper of the land of the dead calling in the spirits from the land of the living home. Everything had to be perfect. The barn needed to be cleaned, the houses, the streets.


“Please, sir, I’ve finished,” Syme said through the door to his gaffer’s caravan.


The gaffer never bothered to reply. Syme only heard him grunt and took this as a request to clean himself up before the evening’s events.


Syme was part of the circus and every year they put on a show to mark Everln. It was a fire show and one to match no other. But that night was to change the course of history forever…

~ by S.G. Mark on October 17, 2011.

One Response to “Day 10 – Darunsyam – Part 1”

  1. I sense Jean m Auel comin on.
    You do know that you’ll have to publish the compendium of all Ya stories when done.

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