Dawn of the Forgotten: Wattpad Edition

Chapter 1: (Part 1) Rise of the Fallen

She giggled in a softened tone, hand covering the top of her lip.

"Well, we hope not to disappoint, 'm'lord's'." She hurried away.

She went to the main dinning table where most drinks were filled, took what was offered by the house, and brought it to them. The place was flooded, not just by people, but by spilled rotten drinks. There was singing of various qualities: drunken shanties, folk tales and the sort. There was dancing; drunkards that had fallen on the ground laughing, and a crowd of cheering followed by another excuse to drink.

"Do we really need to stay in a place like this?" Zoran asked, staring at the state of it all with mild discomfort.

"Zoran, it's rather rude to say that in front of the young lady." He whispered back, gazing at her leave.

"But we could've made it to the encampment had we traveled through the night." Zoran crossed his arms as he whispered back.

"Which is why we're here." Theodren chuckled softly.

Zoran looked with malcontent.

"I know you don't like this place. The laughing, the cheering; it's all just happy faces in empty noise, noise to remind us of what we lost: suffering as silent voices in the crowd."

Zoran remained in discomfort, tucking his arms and peering to the blank table facing him, not a glance to those around him.

"I know it's hard on you. I miss them too, but remember: you still have me." Theodren tapped against Zoran's frail shoulder. "Sure, I'm not perfect. I irritate you more times than I can count, but you're not alone."

Zoran turned away, still tucked in on his sides with a look of sadness.

"Hey, you don't need to hide, it's alright." Theodren tucked his arm over the back of Zoran's neck and right shoulder, gently padding against him. "Look; just because the world may seem bad to you doesn't mean it has to be. There could even be happiness in the battlefield.... Please...just find joy in what you do have."

Theodren looked closely to his brother's empty face, nearly falling off the chair by how bent it was. He was too lazy to lift and move it.

The crowd sang in harmony; laughing, feasting. Theodren smiled like a proud king, looking at his brother and chuckled, "Take up your cup! Let's remember this night; where our hearts sang jubilant to the turned tables, and the passing of dusk."

"Cheers!" He swung his wooden tankard, a slight splash as it approached his brother.

Zoran slowly lifted his own to repeat, a look to Theodren without a hint of contentment.

They drank it; a second after, and realized it wasn't at all what they wanted. They were disgusted! Their mouths stunk a nasty stench! They spit every last drop; trying to get rid of the smell by wiping their tongues clean, drinking the water they brought.... Ale...out of all the drinks in the world.... Most would only drink it when they were too drunk to care.

However, even with the uproar of awful tastes, many around them jumped with joy almost halfway to the rising sun. The air smelled horrendous; sweaty hairy men with a strong stench like the peasants, all of which rarely bathed....

Even though it seemed stability ran to a distant land, the crowd enjoyed every minute of it. Warmth was filled throughout the large room like a wedding for a king; every member standing together in harmony. Through dancing and singing in every glance and stare, happiness was finally returning to a land cast into the fires of war for nearly two decades.

Songs of victory, love, and the bravery of the honored. Standing above a table at the center of the inn, a young girl sang songs to the honor of the two brothers, and the end of the war.

"Isn't that the same girl from before?" Theodren asked with a surprised look on his face. "I guess talent is common among us and we just haven't noticed." He laughed slightly.

Zoran remained silent and looked the same direction.

"Lydia! If you're going to perform, take up this high chair, and at least have your lute!" The innkeeper said in a rather strict and stubborn sort of way.

"Oh, I almost forgot." She smiled back in a way that seemed unsurprisingly repetitive for any author to note.

"She's beautiful." Theodren said, without even taking the slightest focus towards his brother as he mentioned it.

"Yes, scarlet isn't a common sight here, but you shouldn't fall for her so easily." They both looked at her closely, though Zoran spoke right beside his brother's ear.

"What do you mean?" Theodren continued to gaze upon her shine, like the sight of a sunset drowned in colorful lights. He almost lost track of what his brother said.

"Love at first sight is a fool's dream." Zoran spoke calmly.

"Ha! You only say that because you've never found love." He slammed the cup back on to the table, though bringing his eyes directly to her face yet again.

"Love is false if you're the only one in connection. Considering she hasn't taken notice of you explains that."

"That's not true!" He began raising his voice, "I've found love many times before!"

The giant swung the chair to the floor, but thankfully no one noticed, for they too were captivated by her.

She sat upon a high chair at the center of the Inn, and the place fell silent to listen.

Great grasslands and peace of the land which we thrive

Where shadows and warriors triumph and strive

With cunning and bravery our people do say

The last of the of the warriors will rise up today

The string of the lute played smoothly. Her very fingertip danced in their hearts. Her skin was like the highest mountain springs, and a voice echoed in symphony as a thousand angels.

As the music continued to the beat of the song, they cheered on to her skillful voice. When the song was over, she handed the lute with a violent throw to the innkeeper, putting on a show to the guests. She swung out a fiddle, and so the feast had begun.

"A cup in remembrance. A cup of the past mistakes taken away!" She smiled heavily with a slightly opened mouth.

The drunks laughed and cheered along, hitting their cups together, spilling more ale all over the already filthy tables.

There was clapping, dancing, and many more things to light up the night. After the darkness approached, every soul remained lost for words. Many were passed out on the horribly scented wooden floorboards: horse manure, dirt, sweat, and ale alike. Everyone else rushed off to their rooms or ran to their horses to return to their families during the start of the week's end.