“The Front”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

“This is absolutely disgusting,” Vocksin muttered, his voice barely audible over the squelching of his boots in the mud.

“You said you wanted to come to the front,” Tandrim reminded him, strolling ahead as if his feet weren’t getting sucked deeper and deeper into the wet earth with each step. “Well, here we are.”

Vocksin’s lips drew back in a scowl as he continued trudging along. He would never understand why his little brother would ever volunteer to come here. Tandrim would probably say, “Morale, big brother. The troops need to see that their princes support them,” but Vocksin thought that that was stupid. The troops didn’t give a venntran’s crap what they did. In fact, from all the dirty looks the soldiers were giving him, Vocksin could only assume that they didn’t want him there.

“You know what?” Vocksin said, stopping in his tracks. Immediately, he could tell that stopping had been a mistake, his little brother was slowly but surely getting taller than him with each passing second. “Actually, Tan, a hand here would be nice.”

Tandrim glanced over his shoulder and his eyes lit up with alarm. “Hold on!” he exclaimed. Without wasting a second, he grabbed a rope coiled around a nearby fence and threw the end to Vocksin. “Grab on!”

Vocksin took the rope, the mud already seeping into the tops of his knee-high premium leather boots, and held on tight. Tandrim finished expertly tying the rope around the fence before digging his heels into the ground and pulling. “Almost… there…” he grunted.

Just when Vocksin’s arms felt like they would be pulled from their sockets, a loud, wet, POP resounded and Vocksin flew from the mud to land on the solid ground beside his brother.

Panting, Vocksin finally let go of the rope and rolled onto his back. His lips trembled as he tried to speak.

“Are you alright?” Tandrim asked, peering down at his brother. “What is it?”

Tandrim leaned in close, his ear hovering directly over Vocksin’s mouth, to hear what he had to say.

“M-my boots,” Vocksin choked out. “My poor, beautiful boots.”

Final Comments: Another fantasy excerpt! Writing in third person still feels a bit awkward; hopefully with more practice, it’ll start feeling natural.

Overall Rating: 🙂