Roger Hunter - Faraway Stars

Roger Hunter

COLOPHON

Faraway Stars - The legend of a Minstrel

Roger Hunter

© 2020 Roger Hunter

All rights reserved.

Author: Roger Hunter

Contact Data (luxuecom@gmail.com)

ISBN: 978-3-96858-175-0

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Wandering Minstrels/Bards are a very common occupation in western fantasy stories. They travel the world and perform for a living. This novel describes the story a legendary minstrel named Felix. He often wanders the continent alone and occasionally travels with others. He has experienced many mysterious events and witnessed the birth of many miracles. The strange customs of the ancient continent are like a scroll painting that unfolds as he walks. This story is the first in a series of novels. It describes Felix’s brief experience living with the princess in distress. For more stories, follow Faraway Stars Serials.

Here, now, was a living hell.

There was blood and dead bodies everywhere. The vast plains, which had been covered with shady green grass, were filled with scarlet fragments as far as the eye could see. The gush of blood made the human being nauseous. Even the vultures, who usually liked this scene best, dared not approach the place full of the smell of death, but hovered far above, making a helpless wail. The blood-mist that hurried into the sky completely surrounded this place, the strange golden lightning that was flashing inside and the shrill scream that sent ceaselessly, let a person fell into the edge of mental breakdown.

Yet, it was not without humans. At the edge of this sea of blood, a considerable number of human forces, with the utmost restraint, were in reasonably good formation, facing the heart of the land of the dead. Each man at the front was clad in a heavy golden armour, and rode on strong horses, also armed with golden armour. The silver sabers, placed securely by their sides. Even in the face of such an astonishing sight, there was no fear in their eyes, only feverish anticipation of the coming battle. Apparently, these were the elite troops who once sent countless lives to hell and survived the battlefield. In terms of their strength, even the mere release of the smell of killing was enough to cause the morale of any army of recruits to completely collapse in an instant.

Following them closely were some soldiers who, though wearing thin red robes, were also riding on horses. Relatively speaking, they were far fewer in number. But as soon as their names were heard, there were few generals on the continent today who could suppress the chill in their hearts.

The Solanian Magical Cavalry, the first cavalry in the history of the mainland to be composed entirely of sorcerers. Their incredible mobility, combined with their formidable magical powers, made them a nightmare for countless soldiers. Many famous troops, like the stars and sands, were reduced to the dust of history in a short time by their perfect attack with the golden knights. Now, however, few of them could keep calm. The better ones were just pale, the worse ones were even vomiting on the spot. It was not that their calmness was inferior to the cavalry, it was just that the wave of magic surrounding the place had now reached an alarming height. For mages, naturally sensitive to the power of magic, it was almost as unbearable as being surrounded by heavy, unbreathable air. If it were an ordinary magical army, they would have lost all morale when they set foot here!

What exactly was it that made them so heavily guarded?

The answer soon emerged.

A slender figure, as if carrying an incomparable exhaustion, slowly, slowly, with his hands on his back, stepped out from the clouds of blood and rain that were scattered throughout the sky.

Strangely enough, despite passing through the dense fog of blood and stepping over countless pieces of corpses, there was not a single stain on his pale blue robe that couldn’t have been simpler in style.

It was as if, out of a boundless meadow full of sunshine and flowers, one stepped out.

Long bangs, which completely hid his face from view, made it difficult to see what he looked like. But the moment he appeared, almost all the horses, at the same time, drew their necks and hissed. That thick, almost materialized killing breath, made their animal instincts, sound a strong alarm. However, the long hours of training have kept them from abandoning their masters and running away.

Without more words, a man in the thickest armor among the soldiers swung down his arm. A loud and clear military trumpet was sounded at the same time. Letting out a roar, the cavalrymen in front of them all crouched themselves down, held out their sabers, drove the horses that straddled them, and rushed towards the figure with the fastest speed. And the left group of mages, braced themselves strongly while accurately chanting a special battle spell, adding the divine blessing to the cavalry. At once, a five-colored light flooded over all of them, trailing long bands of colored light through the dim space.

Iron hooves rumbled, and the killing sound shook the sky.

The gates of the star wold realmed opened over his head. Rain-spotted meteors of fire dragged long marks across the blood-colored sky. Countless horrible creatures, which only appeared in nightmares, hissed loudly and lunged at him. Uncountable silver lightning flashed across the long blood-colored sky that cut through him. With each bright light, another deep wound was cut across the already bruised earth. Still, he didn’t move.

It was as if all these deadly attacks had fallen on him like dust that could be blown away anywhere.

He just looked down quietly at a small jade pendant hanging on his chest.

Then looked up.

All the people, all of them, saw the indescribable essence of light that burst out at that moment in those lavender eyes filled with unspeakable deep sorrow and anger.

It was the last thing they saw.

The history of the continent, on this sad day, turned a new page.

Struggling to pluck the strings with the last of his strength, Felix scanned the stream of people to see if any of them would stop to listen and drop a few coins for some half-dead traveling minstrel who was hungry – but no. In front of him, in the shabby but still clean hat, there were only a few copper coins that a girl had kindly given in the morning lying in it, shining with a lonely luster, reflecting the golden and resplendent scene on the streets of the thousand year king’s capital, and even more desolate as a singer.

“If only I had known I wouldn’t make much money playing here……” Consoling himself with a bit of frustration, Felix scooped up the lyre, leaned half against the wall, and looked down at the famous street. Her pale amethyst eyes reflect the colors of the setting sun with an indescribable complexity.

After all these years of not visiting, this cursed city has not changed at all……

Fine carriages, richly decorated with gold, which could have sustained a hundred paupers for years, drove continually through the ruts of pure white marble, raising clouds of dust; Soldiers in fine and showy heavy armour marched in perfect step through the town, following the ancient law. In the distant ghetto, carefree children were chasing each other, enjoying the joys of childhood; More people, however, crossed the street with the usual indifference of the inhabitants of big cities. The indifferent eyes, in the occasional sweep of the roadside rags of the poor, were full of undisguised contempt and disdain.