Would you keep reading?
I want some honest critique on my flash forward prologue and the following chapter. The goal is to start publishing in a few months, I've got a good backlog but a lot of work to do on my technical writing. Ill be publishing weekly as a webnovel.
Burdened To Remember
Futures End
Blood barely crept from his wounds as the cold slowly froze them shut, and David’s eyes refused to stay open. An endless stretch of fallen trees and crushed rock lined the dirt, now stained red with blood.
So cold… Even the blood flowing down my arms is cold.
More wounds than he could feel covered his body. Ice chains coiled around him, leaving only his arms and head free, their grip just lax enough so he could still breathe.
His eyes flicked between bodies he already knew were dead.
I can hardly even see anymore.
He barely made out four figures towering over the corpses. He faintly caught one of them muttering. “If I have to get my boots cleaned one more time.”
David choked on his own blood, “Will my men be remembered?”
The same figure let out a short bark of laughter, “Do you remember every time you clean your boots?”
Three of them started walking away, and the last figure stayed behind, downcast.
“Don’t be disheartened,” the figure smiled softly. “They wouldn’t understand.”
He pulled a broken sword from his storage ring, pressing it into David’s palm.
“A warrior shouldn’t die unarmed.”
He knelt, meeting David’s eye level.
“I’m glad we finally ran into each other again, though I wish it were under better circumstances. We didn't get the chance to talk last time. What is your name?”
Tears streamed down David's face as he whispered, "David.” The figure nodded, “Horace.”
He paused and put his hand on David’s shoulder.
“I hear you were kind to your men… It’s a tragic fate that I’d be the one to take your life.”
Horace bowed his head.
“seems I was still too weak, and now I can never repay my debt to your friend.”
He looked back at the others as he stood.
“I feel we would’ve gotten along well in another life.”
As he started to walk away, he spoke just loud enough for David to hear.
“I will remember you, David...” He gestured to David’s soldiers, “And I’ll remember them for you.”
David watched him leave, stepping carefully around the bodies. A faint smile touched his face.
I was starting to worry that they’d be forgotten.
His vision dimmed, and as colors blended into a vague afterimage. He forced his eyes to stay open and caught a glimpse of his comrades' souls pouring into the sky like a hail of white ash.
He glanced the body closest to him. What should’ve been a bright head of vibrant blonde hair was red and riddled with dirt.
A tear rolled down David’s cheek.
“I’m sorry, Jonathan,” he whispered, “We never should’ve gone to learn spirit arts…”
His eyes drifted shut, and his head slumped.
We were too ungrateful, leaving home… leaving Halt; we never should’ve left.
Just as he should’ve joined his men among the souls in the sky, a bright flash of silver light enveloped him.
David’s eyes shot open.
This light… Is it silver?
His fingers twitched, and he felt life flowing back into him.
This has to be…
He looked up at the souls in the sky.
“Jonathan!” He shouted hoarsely, reaching out as the silver light warped the air.
1. Memories Passed
Many years ago — Outer Region, August 10th, Year 2508
David and Jonathan fought their boredom as they began their seventh hour of chores.
“What do you think it’ll be like to fight in great battles?”
Jonathan wiped the sweat from his brow. “What made you ask a question like that?”
David grinned, “We’re setting out tomorrow to learn spirit arts.”
Jonathan smirked, “What does that have to do with war?” he paused a moment, slapping David on the back.
“If we did fight in any great battles, it’d be side by side to the last breath.”
David nodded.
“That’s for sure.” He paused, snorting, “We’re shoveling this shit side by side.”
CRICK
David tweaked his lower back and cursed.
Jonathan chuckled.
“Right?” He shook his head, “To think the stench doesn’t even bother me anymore.”
David threw down his shovel and crossed his arms.
“Damn farm work never ends. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”
Jonathan looked away, already stifling laughter.
“Each time you complain, the pile grows.”
They tried to hold it in, but David eventually burst into laughter, followed shortly by Jonathan.
A hoarse voice scorned them.
“What’s with all the noise? If you like that shit so much, I ought to throw both of you knee deep in it.”
David hurriedly retrieved his shovel, and Jonathan instantly apologized.
“Sorry, Halt, we're almost done.”
Halt scoffed.
“I shouldn't have to keep telling you to call me Old Man.”
David quickly insisted they were almost done.
Halt brushed the comment aside, pointing at the pile.
“Throw one of my shovels again and I’ll dye your proud long hair one shade browner.”
David swallowed nervously.
“It won’t happen again.”
Halt grinned.
“Supper’s ready at sundown, but for you, it’s ready when you finish up with your shit.”
He walked back to the cabin. The instant he was out of sight, David tapped Jonathan on the shoulder.
“Do you think the pile grows when we look away, too?”
Their laughter echoed through the fields until they noticed the cattle turning to look.
They cleaned themselves up and joined Halt for supper. Halt sat, arms crossed in front of cold food.
“Laughter doesn’t fill stomachs, nor does it keep the food warm.”
They gave no reply and ate quietly.
David picked at his food, slowly pushing it around his bowl.
Finally, he set his fork down, exchanging a glance with Jonathan.
Halt raised an eyebrow.
“Did you two forget how to eat?”
David’s grip tightened around his fork, and Jonathan gave a whisper of a nod.
“You’ll be fine without us… right?”
Halt set his fork down, and David awkwardly shifted his gaze away.
Halt turned to Jonathan.
“I might be imagining it, but was that genuine concern for my well-being?”
David sighed.
“Really, Halt? Do you have to mock every word I speak?”
Halt stopped eating, looking David in the eye, half smiling.
“I thought I told you to call me old man.”
David scarfed down his stew, bringing the bowl to his mouth, hiding his smile.
“Come on, Jonathan, we need good sleep. We leave in the morning.”
They went to their rooms and fell asleep before Halt finished saying goodnight.
The next morning
A rooster's crow fell on deaf ears.
Halt shook his head. “They only wake up if there's food,” he grumbled.
SMACK — SMACK
“I’M UP, DAMMIT!”
David scrambled to cover his head.
“My skull isn’t thick enough for this abuse.”
Jonathan propped himself up in the corner, stifling his laughter, deepening the dimple on his left cheek.
Halt scoffed.
“You’ve been looking forward to this for ten years — and today’s the day you feel like sleeping in?”
David launched his pillow at Halt.
“I had a lot of shit to do yesterday, in case you failed to notice.”
Jonathan motioned for David to hurry up. As they left, David punched Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Why didn’t you wake me before he came in?” Jonathan smirked, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Halt waved from the cabin until they vanished. David and Jonathan had only each other and the old man, whom they swore invented hard labor.
As their laughter carried back on the wind, Halt recalled harsh decades of farming alone—until the day he found an overturned carriage.
“Anyone alive?” No answer. Blood everywhere, monster tracks in the dirt. And in the center, two infants, unharmed. “This’ll be nothing but trouble…”
Halt sighed as their laughter faded completely, “I almost feel as though I miss em… Almost.”
He shrugged, turning around, “I ought to get some work done before Jonathan takes that test.”