A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Ever since Beam’s family was killed, and he was sold into slavery, he’d been affected by a certain sensation in his chest. A dark gnawing. As if there was someone else inside his body, cackling at his struggles. Even as he wields his pickaxe deep within the slave mines, he feels the grip of another hand, trying to guide his own. Something dark, something ominous and powerful, wanted everything that he had left. He could feel its want. In the place of despair, he felt rage, and he resisted it. Years later, it still remains. He trains to try and silence it. Every day, for hours on end. In the pouring rain, and in the freezing snow. Naturally, after so many years, someone – or something, finds him in such a state. With the lightning flashing, he is discovered by a creature of vaguely human shape, but with a left arm so purple it looked like it should have been rotten to dust long ago. “If you’re going to do it, do it properly,” the monster sneers, slapping the stick out of Beam’s hand, and putting a sword in its place. “Swing it,” the creature commands. Only when he begins to train with the creature does Beam begin to notice changes. The voice is louder now – angrier. But there’s also something else along with it. A yearning to go with the gnawing. It’s a warm feeling, as if it was a woman’s hand on his shoulder. It stays with him, and only continues to grow in intensity. Two voices speak their mind, and they grow louder. With them, Beam’s desire to grow stronger grows– and finally, true progress begins to come his way, along with a strength that few can believe. Months pass, and once more, Beam’s world changes. The villagers that had once avoided him begin to show interest in the boy. There’s something mysterious about him, and something that seems to be almost incredible. That fact is sealed for them, when one day he turns up with the corpse of an impossibly strong Hobgoblin. He almost seems too big for the village. Tragedy occurs, and once more, Beam’s name is taken. The hands of the powerful look his way. They see strength, and they include it in their games. Under the guise of immense secrecy, his past is hidden away, and he is given a new name, that of Oliver Patrick, and he is given a new place amongst minor nobility. Join Beam - and later Oliver Patrick – as he fights against his fate, and claws his way up out of the mud that he was born into, and begins his war against the powerful men of the Stormfront.
The Cursed Child - Part 2
"THAT'S IT! OUT!"
He felt a massive hand reach down and grab his arm, dragging him out of his ever-deepening hole. He didn't really have the strength to resist. The man, Loz, was twenty years his elder. Bald, stocky and mean-looking, with enough weight to give him the strength of two men. And there was anger in his eyes.
"What?" Beam asked.
Loz sighed. "You're good with a spade boy, but sometimes I question what's going on in that head of yours… The boss sent word earlier. There's enough coin for two promotions. He said to give it out to whoever's getting the most work done, and given that you're doing nearly double that of anyone else, I figured you deserved it more than most."
Beam's eyes widened with surprise and he had to fight hard to stop his mouth from curving into a smile. It was rare that good things happened to him. It was rare that his efforts were rewarded and that he was made to feel his struggle was truly worth it.
Loz noticed the smile and he began smiling too, despite how grizzled he was. Beam was something of an outcast – he rarely spoke and most who saw him avoided him, thinking him to be dark and gloomy. But Loz thought a little differently. He saw the scars on the boy's body just as everyone else did, yet he also saw the light in his eyes, the look of a boy who still had not given up. Though most could not see such a quality, Loz connected with it. Without ever saying a word, he was silently rooting for Beam to do well.
"I say promotion, but it isn't much. You're going up from ten coppers a month up to twelve. If it was up to me, you'd be getting paid more for the amount of labour you put in, but it's just the way things go I suppose," Loz said.
But even upon hearing the size of his promotion, Beam's smile didn't fade. He valued the small things more than anyone Loz had ever met. And of course he would. For a boy who had truly lost everything at one point – his family and his freedom and even his health – the small things counted, they truly did.
…
…
The sky darkened above him as Beam wandered through the village marketplace, still struggling to hide his smile from his fresh promotion – it had taken him two years of struggle and toil to earn that measly amount of progress after all, and he was pleased to finally see his struggle paying off.
At this time of day, just after work, the market was more than lively. Beautiful women grasped the shoulders of hardworking men, whispering into their ears seductively, begging that they be allowed to relieve them of the stresses of the day.
Of course, such beautiful women did not do such things merely for fun. They were prostitutes under the employ of Greeves – the most wealthy merchant in the village.
Beam saw soldiers amongst the crowd, but only a few of them. They were all making their way back east, towards the city, before winter hit.
"Oho, hello there sweetie," a lady called out to Beam as he wandered along. "Is today the day you're finally going to be a man?" She teased.
She did this most days, seeming to take some sort of pleasure in taunting Beam. He winced as she put an arm over his shoulder, pressing her chest up against his back. The scent of perfume filled Beam's nostrils. He used to grow bright red every time this happened, but now he just felt butterflies in his stomach and a sense of panic.
"I'm in a hurry…" he mumbled.
"So am I," she teased. "If you aren't quick, I might grow old before you finally marry me, you know?"
It was the same lady, every other day. Loriel was her name.
"Heyyyy, Loriel, stop messing about. You know the kid doesn't have the money to pay ya. Greeves is going to tell you off if you don't get back to work soon, y'know?" One of the other women shouted out to her, as they did every other day.
And as always, Loriel merely smiled. "She's trying to rush me… Don't think badly of her, she's only looking out for me. Quick, before she pulls me away, tell me what's got you smiling?"
Despite her teasing and her aggressive way of using her sexuality to make Beam uncomfortable, Beam didn't mind her too much – even if it did feel like he was walking on a tightrope around her.
Between her and Loz, they were the only two people in the entire village who showed interest in him – they only ones that showed him any signs of warmth. Despite how she acted, Loriel was more motherly than anything else. But it was as though she was embarrassed of that side of herself, so she pushed her more seductive self to the front more.
"C'mon, pleaseeee, tell me," Loriel complained, brushing some dirt out of Beam's hair.
Beam glanced at her and saw the warm look in her eyes past her teasing. "I got a promotion," he said awkwardly.
Her face lit up as she heard that. She seemed more overjoyed than Beam was about his own success.
She pulled him into a hug before he could even think to do anything, and then she kissed the top of his head. "I'm glad," she said. "I've seen how hard you work, how much you struggle. It's about time you got rewarded for it. Keep fighting Beam, I'm rooting for you!"