Tylor's Small Tale.

[Montesquieu 0]

Mjøntes Romanov Vyal Dje Taiyelor, but is only addressed as Tylor.

(Montez Romanov Veyal Je Tielor)

Mjøntes Tylor was born and raised in a very small village (about 85 people, more or less) not too far from The Cloud Temple of Aegis. He and his family were the typical type. His father was a farmhand, while his mother ran the local tailoring shop in the village. Tylor was the youngest of 3 siblings. Vjalvairee Baenor (Vyal-vare Bay-nor) and Vjalvairee Lynnore (Vyal-care Lin-ore), who were twins, but completey different. Lynnore loved to do more "rough" jobs, like helping father out in the farms. She also hated wearing dresses, and only wore overalls, which she loved. Baenor was closer to her mother. She enjoyed helping her cook, clean, and help her mother in the shop. Njalraausee Raegjinayld (Nyal-rawsse Ray-jin-ald) was the oldest boy child. He was very intellectual. People always thought that he would one day be part of the Royal Court. Raeginayld was also very snobby, so he thought likewise. And then, there was finally Tylor, the youngest child. He didn't really do anything around the house. All he would do is follow his mother around, carrying his favourite teddy bear, which he named Smjalniee (Smyal-nee)

It's the sunset of Tylor's birthday, who was turning 85 years old (8 years for normal eleven times, he was a child). He, and his sister, Lynnore, was looking out from the top balcony of their house. The sun always seemed to set a bit slower on his birthday. Tylor muttered a little prayer before the sun finally set behind the golden hills. Lights started going on to illuminate the dark night. And what it dark night it was. It was almost pitch black it seemed.

"Happy Birthday, Tylor." Lynnore said to him.

"Eheh, thanks."

"Hold on...do you smell that?" she asked.

"Smell what?" He took a deep breath, and then quickly covered his nose "By the gods, what is that?" They both ran inside, asking if anybody smells it.

"Smells like...rotting corpses." His father said.

All of a sudden, they heard desperate screamings from outside. The father ran outside to see what was going on, as did many other people in the small village. A small army of undead starting attacking people and buildings. A skeleton attempted to shoot his father with an arrow, but he quickly dodged it, and went inside the house, and slamming the door behind him.

"Blasted undead are here!" he yelled.

"What? I know they are aggressive, and sometimes attack villages, but aren't the towns in the area well guarded?"

"I have no idea, sweetheart. All I know is that we should evacuate to the temple until the army arri-"

A small group of zombies, about 3-4 of them, broke through the door.

"Must...j-join uss...nether...sacr-iface..."

One of the undeads automatically attempted to grab Tylor. His father grabbed the pickaxe, and slammed it on the undead. Blood splattered everywhere.

"You want me and my family? Your going to have to take them from my cold dead hands, undead bastard!" He turned toward his family. "Go hide!", and they did exactly that. Raegjinayld looked over the corner to where his father, and the undead were battling. All he saw was his father being tackled by the undead, and eaten. His father attempted to raise a hand in the air, but it was shoved down.

"Fam-ily no wa-want to come. Fe-ast on all!"

The zombies found them all. It' almost as if they could smell their blood. Tylor watched in complete horror as the zombies feasted on his family right before his. He was sick to his stomach. He was numb all over. He vomited violently countless times. Two zombies found Tylor, tried to grab him, and eat him. He kicked endlessly, and screamed until his face turned beat red. A burning oil candle was above them. He was able to grab it, and smash it on a zombie, setting it, and the others on fire. He was finally able to scramble away. The house was made out of wood, so fire started to spread quickly around the house, and the doors were set on fire. The only way for him to get out was ram through the door. It took him a couple tries, but he was finally able to do it. When he was out of the house, he noticed his injuries There was a rather large chunk of skin from his arm gone, as it was eaten by the zombies. A huge gash was on the side of his head, blood dripping endlessly from it. One of his eyes was much paler than the other, meaning that his sight in one of his eyes was going.

He looked back, and saw as the entire village was covered in flames (not caused by him), Tylor had no other place where he could go, so he ran to the temple, and he didn't stop.He just ran, and ran, and ran. Rain was literally pouring, and the wind cut to the bone, which effected his injuries. He thought that he froze to death by the time he reached the temple. When he finally reached the temple, he climbed the stairs, and knocked on the doors. A monk appeared. "Hello? Who is there?" he asked.

"Please...sir...help me..." He couldn't finish his sentence, as he fainted. The monk looked down, and was astounded at the state of the boy. He gently picked Tylor up, making sure not to touch any wounds, or harm him by the force.

"By the gods. He lived. The boy lived."

[shiftnative 3103]

A Wonderful tale friend, riveting.

[Danny 2232]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.