~The Lone Road~
The Lone Road is my biggest project by far. It is intended to be a fictional story about the travels of a feeble knight, Roland Dodding, and his journey along a single unmarked road leading to paradise.
Discouraged by his past failures, Roland sets out to seek a better life for himself. Believing to be lead by God, he decides to follow an unmarked road to paradise. What he discovers is that paradise is a goal rarely achieved, and that he may not be as fortunate to endure the battles leading up to his place of rest. The pursuit of his dreams, and the detestation of the life he left behind is what drives him forward, but with every step, the question arises more and more frequently. What lies for him at the end of the road?
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Opening
A piercing afternoon sun glares into a canopy of leaves below. The azure sky, brimming bright with hope and new beginnings, cradles the land in a loving caress. But underneath the land's leafy bosom spans the somber reflection of one man's hopeless dreams. A single dirt road stretches through nature’s bountiful landscape, slithering like a snake past grassy slopes and rooted underpasses. It rises high and sinks low at the whim of the rugged terrain inhabited by towering titans of nature. But today, the lone road will be visited once again by a human being.
With nothing but a suit of armor, a sword, and parched canteen, the lone knight, atop his mount, traverses a shaded path. His lowered head bobs to the animal's sway as a teeming environment sings a melancholy note, clicking, creaking, croaking, clapping, but a light fog dresses his melancholy. Insects cling to his chest plate, and dust rests on the hilt of his sword. No longer can the weary pace of his horse bring him any closer to the end, and so he stops and dismounts to walk on his own wobbly limbs. Through the vegetation and into a cool, quiet nook not far from the road, he leads his horse to rest, but he himself remains restless as he strains to survive in the wilderness.
Under the towering treetop’s scattered light, he scurries along the ground like a small forest dweller, scavenging for food and supplies in whatever form it may come. Often does he return late to his horse, his countenance rinsed of cheerfulness as he feeds her the only bounty to be recovered on his trivial expedition. After some hours pass him by, he takes up what little he has and meets again with the road.
In the now thinning sunlight, he travels for as long as his stamina may carry him. Past cliffs and canopies, and hills and hollow trunks, this deathly cradle mocks his voyage by presenting him with the corpses of the men who bravely followed their ambition into this suffocating place. And now the calming appeal of nature’s vibrant galleries has slowly shifted shades, shriveling into a scowl at the haunting air of death that trespasses this winding passage.
As his horse staggers under the late noon sun, he withdraws her and himself from the road to rest for the day and he uses the time to clear his cluttered head. The lone knight, sought upon by the cool of the night, can be seen scratching his thoughts onto tattered yellowing pages with a stick of thinning charcoal
Oh, weep at the tale of this lone knight, a lost identity from a measly town known as Daggenhorn of Aleirga. His poor, pitiful life leads him down a wandering road because he is too cowardly to live with his failure. From the conception of this abhorred creature laid the hand of misfortune; he was a devil's chew toy, his life meeting no intention. As a child, he was an outcast. As a young man, he was a servant. As a soldier, he was a coward. Now as a man, in this dingy metal suit, he roams about a failure.
What does this knight hope to find? After living a story of lies, he seeks the truth for the very first time, even more so, he seeks redemption from his failures, a new start, a reason to keep on living. But the further he gets, the closer he feels to the emptiness that has constricted him for so long. A yearning for death eats away at his body and mind as silence overtakes him in this dark hour. Meditation becomes less able to hold him from the brink of sanity, but a deep, burning passion boils within him, fueling his foolish endeavor. It carries his body onward to his potential demise, all for a slim possibility of life on the other end of this great yet secretive road. This lone knight is, the one and only, Roland Dodding. I am he.
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Continue Reading to Chapter 1:
©Copyright 2013-2015 Daniel Santiago
This is subject to terms listed under the kitten's manual of law and copyrights. (I wish such a manual existed.)
This is subject to terms listed under the kitten's manual of law and copyrights. (I wish such a manual existed.)
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