DNO’s Author Showcase: The Mosh – The Journey Untold Chapter 1

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Word from DNO: In DNO’s Author Showcase we will highlight artistic and narrative works from unpublished Dominican authors and those willing to share their work with the public.

In particular the aim is to foster the burst of imagination, mental development, expression and connectedness that can only come from shared consumption of substantive narrative and artistic works.

Below is a short first chapter from an in-development fantasy novel from Joshua Hilaire. You can think of it as a teaser of what is to come.

If you are an author or artist and are interested in showcasing your work on DNO you can email us at [email protected] or call or Whatsapp us at 767 275 3253.

The Mosh – The Journey Untold

 

Chapter 1

 Awakened by his screams of despair in the dead of the night, she held him close as if it were the first time it had happened. Night after night, she’d put his head on her bare bosom, cuddling and consoling him as a mother would to her new born baby. This was a new routine to the queen, she took on this responsibility without doubt and without question, she was his comforter. King Warrik  had this awful nightmare countless times in recent weeks; tonight was no different. It had been embedded into his very being, a burden he learned to live with, barely. He would wake suddenly in a great fright, screaming, grabbing at the cold air as if he had seen something terrifying, something so surreal that it could shake the very core of such a great man. The apparition in this nightmare was a vengeful spirit, and every night it would repeat these words.”The moment has finally arisen where my spirit will haunt you until your death. I will drive you mad for what you have done. I shall feed on your paranoia, I shall feed off your wrong doing and you shall know it is me and you shall fear death.”

The King was a man of immense pride, he would not burden anyone with his thoughts and his pains. Lillian questioned what these nightmares were about, but to no avail. It started weighing on her mind heavily, she was distressed. With no clue what was going through his mind, she did her best to mask her concern and do what she could to mitigate his troubles. He urged her not to worry yet still she did the exact opposite of his wishes. She was in the dark and her mind clouded. The guards assigned to the King were men that he trusted. They had been loyal to him over many years and had the chance of having a unique bond with the King. They all knew he was a troubled man who carried many demons on his shoulders. But recently, his demeanor had changed; they could hear his screams in the night, and felt that the air around the palace had gotten thick. Things had become ominous. These nightmares ate the King from inside out.  Every King has had the faces of dead men haunting them however nobody but the King knew what he was facing this time. After she had consoled him he was  able to get some rest. By the time he closed his eyes, the morning sun had begun to rise. He  twisted and turned so much that sleeping had become a task. Most nights he pretended to be asleep so that his queen could have slept. His eyes darkened, and his body had become weary, but he was a formidable man.  He was still lying in bed and noticed she was already awake. She sat in front of the mirror, a blank stare into the mirror. With nothing and everything on her mind, she suddenly shook herself into reality when she heard his voice.

“As beautiful as ever my queen.”

“Thank you,” Lillian responded with a half-smile.

“You are troubled my king, the nightmares seem to be getting worse. What is it that troubles you?”

“It is nothing I cannot handle, Worry not, I will be fine.”

“I pray that your words ring true.”

She didn’t get much sleep the night before, she tried to conceal the exhaustion on her face. She needed to appear regal at all times. She was queen, after all. Her strength could easily be seen in these times, she was strong minded and the people never doubted her as their queen, nor did he. Her beauty was second to none. With piercing pearly green eyes, her stares were spell-like, her long black hair flowed effortlessly down to the middle of her back. Her beauty was the king’s strength in his darkest hours, her will power was his medicine. He needed her now more than ever but his pride would have him say not. These moments marked some of his darkest days.

The king made his way to a basin of icy water sitting on the gleaming floor of their room . It was prepared for him by his queen. He wondered how long she had been up, but quickly dismissed the thought. He scooped up some water and splashed it on his face. The cold water breathed a bit of life into him. It was a much needed refresher after another terrible night. He finally looked awaked. Dreadful thoughts still lingered on his mind, his mind drifted back on that day,  he had done well to bury it up until now. They now gnawed at him but he had to make a conscious effort to look like the great fearless king he was known to be.

He couldn’t carry his burdens around his kingdom. His problem was not theirs but their problems were his to bear. After taking a bath, “Where is my armor, my sword, and my crown?” And one by one, his servants brought him what he desired. As he put them on, he remembered who he was , they were a reminder that he was king.

His armor bore symbols of a small golden crown embedded in it. The armor was passed down from king to king. And as his fathers before him, wore them proudly. Their great city, Aramoore, was branded the city of royals thus the crown on all their armor and swords. The king’s equipment had been created by the best blacksmith in the entire land, Sirgil Lordo hailing from Silver Waterfall. He was a master at his craft, the armor was light but was able to withstand the most powerful of blows. The sword was made out of Alyote. Alyote was known to be the strongest metal that only the dwarves were able to craft but humans proved them wrong. The blade bore no weight but was strong enough to cut through the toughest of material. It was a master class, a weapon fitting of a king.

Fully clothed, he went to his balcony overlooking his kingdom, what a beautiful sight Aramoore, capital of the Mosh was. The city was built into a mountain and separated into sections: the upper city and the lower city. There had been two giant walls built before each section of the city, the second was a failsafe in case the lower city was ever breached. The upper was where the royals lived and  the lower was where the town folk lived. Though it had been separated, the people lived in harmony.  Aramoore was a safe haven, its walls stood tall and its gates were made of stone and Alyote. The city was said to be impenetrable and the people felt safe within its walls. There were other major cities in the Mosh but the life Aramoore provided was like no other. The two sections were large, and the king had done perfectly thus far in ensuring  his people lived well. The responsibility he relished, Warrik was a leader of men like his father before him. The people had been more united than ever before, he was a great leader. His sole duty was to protect and serve his people. Standing on his balcony was a daily reminder that this was his purpose. A king first, a husband second and a father lastly. One of the guards asked “Rough night sire?” No words spoken from the king but a nod of the head. Densi had owed the king his life. He had been by his side for many years, the king trusted him greatly.

King Warrik was very respected by the people of the Mosh. The Mosh was part of a great continent, Kylon. There were four main regions, the Mosh, Torgonia, Falaway and Morne Solice. Each region of Kylon had its own king and its own rules, and Warrik was the king of the Mosh. A vast mountainous region with great woodlands that span for miles. There were a large number of unexplored areas, some too dangerous to tread and some unreachable. His tenure as king was ridiculed with trials and tribulations. Mistakes and rewards. Through his feats, he gained the respect of the people of the Mosh. He was a very particular man and for that reason many had disliked the king but they respected his ruling. A lot of people pledged their love for the king and its lineage however there were many that harbored hatred towards him and his line. A proud man that craved excellence and expected nothing less. These were ways that he couldn’t help change, his queen as well as his people had done well to tolerate it. The king enjoyed a good fight, he had a taste for battle and war, he had never tasted defeat and for that reason he enjoyed it even more. The rewards he reaped could be seen all over his body.  His scars were his reward for the battles he won and he wore them proudly. The most notable one was the one that started above his left eye and proceeded to the right side of his face.  From a very young age he developed a competitive spirit, this often got him into problems with authority especially  with his father, King Gaarik. Gaarik knew that his son would be the greatest fighter this country had ever seen. Warrik outshined most of his comrades. Being a prince didn’t stop him from working hard, he did not want to be described as being privileged. He was prideful and determined to earn his accolades. His younger son, Tarcus, was not as skilled as Warrik. Tarcus though was the smarter of the two. Tarcus was pretty knowledgeable for his age despite being four years younger than his older brother. Gaarik was proud and loved of both his sons but favored Warrik as his successor both naturally and through ability. Warrik reminded Gaarik of himself and he felt elated by that thought.

Warrik thought back on his journey up until this point in his life. How had become so troubled. He was a good king, he thought, but he was not perfect. Everything he had done was to the benefit of his people. He fought and sacrificed for them, pledged his life for them, those around him suffered dearly because of it. The king had always had a fighter’s spirit, but his heart was cold.

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2 Comments

  1. Diana
    February 5, 2025

    great read! I felt as if I was in the story

  2. January 15, 2025

    This is a great initiative. I am so pleased that Dominica’s writers can feel that they have a platform even if their work is unpublished.

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