If you're interested in reading more of Sylvestus, head to bit.ly/SylvVol1 to purchase your paperback or ebook copy today. And for those who can't access videos and recordings, transcripts will also be made available here! Leave on while you cook, or sit and watch if you have nothing better to do (and really, who does right now?).
Content warning for suicide and pet death in the following content. Sylvestus deals with heavy themes, the first chapter moreso than the rest of the book. If you are struggling or affected by any such issues, please reach out to samaritans.org/ or at 116 123.
Heya! So, a lot of people online recently have been doing readings from their favourite books and things, and I decided to uhh jump on that bandwagon with some of the content I've made. This was the most obvious place to start, so I'm gonna be reading a few chapters hopefully over the next week or so from Sylvestus Volume I: The Fall, which is the one which is out now, find it... Um... Online. Umm... I'm nervous about this, hence why I'm not doing it as a livestream, this is a pre-recorded video, however I will be hopefully doing it in one take because editing the video and the audio is the bit that takes so long with previous videos that I've done. I've got like, two that are just, sat there, haven't been... Finished editing yet, just sat there waiting to be edited and uploaded.
Umm... So I'll get right into it, because I'm less nervous when I'm actually doing the thing. Sorry in advance about bad, kind of, audio quality, video quality... Situation. I'm not at home, I'm actually quarantining with family, so I've not got my usual stuff - and let's be honest, my videos were never that good in the first place.
I'm just gonna get straight into it - this is the start of Sylvestus Vol I: The Fall, which you can find at bit.ly/SylvVol1, or just... Google Sylvestus, and you'll find it. As a warning, this video does come with a strong trigger warning for suicide and pet death. Which is great and cheery, in this troubling time that we're all having. Shoot.
Insects sang and chirruped, but all the birds were silent.Boots crunched on desert rock, the steps soft and even and purposeful. Firelight burned in the dark ahead; the hunching forms of tents hovered, shadows looming like too-regular walls of a canyon, and their neat rows were deserted. There was life within some of them of the tents – murmurs, movement – but the boots and their tread seemed entirely alone. Even the fires guttered in this cold deep dark.Suddenly, the boots stopped between the shadow of a tent and the flare of a campfire. The boots turned toward the fire and waited.A dog limped from the darkness behind the tent. There were deep cuts in its flank and shoulders, and its pale fur was crusted brown with blood. Every movement was stiff and slow, its golden eyes bright with pain, but when its gaze alighted on its master the tail began to lift and its ears perk up.Its whole body wagged as it pushed his head against the man's leg. The man's fingers tightened as if to snap and warn it back to a respectful distance - and then went loose. He dropped onto his haunches, and let the dog nuzzle the palm of his hand as he dug his fingers into the soft spot behind its left ear; the dog let out the softest hfff and closed its eyes for a moment. The man let the dog lick his neck and chin, and then with a whisper of a laugh pressed his nose to the side of its muzzle, and closed his silver-steel eyes.For a moment they were stationary, faces together, with the dog's thick tail beating a breeze close to the warmth of the fire, orange-yellow flames flickering in the stone-like face of the man.Slowly, he put one hand behind the dog's ears, and the other at the base of its neck.Leaving the broken body of the dog curled limply by the fire, the man straightened and for a moment simply breathed. He took a step, and when the boot landed it was on a narrow paved path surrounded by trees, the desert and camp and dog gone.The depth of night, dawn still a few hours hence, was a ripe time in the forest. The land watched and listened; the air was heavy with its collected breath. Ahead, a villa loomed, dark and abandoned. Its well-worn path and well-tended lawn promised commerce and care, but now it was cold. No torches were lit along the path or walls, the only light the moon between the trees, and no greeting came as the steps took the man slowly past the stables and kennel. The man's head twitched as he passed them and wound around the villa, but he made no motion to change his path.In the basement, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a handful of rich yellow powder. In one fluid motion, the man tossed it toward the nearest empty furnace; his other hand twisted, and as the powder settled over the furnace, white-yellow flames blossomed.It was with an easy twist of his hand that he gave the fire strength, form.For quite some time he stood before the furnace, hands moving as if manipulating the flames as they strengthened and grew. Sweat beaded beneath his clothes and on his face, and the fire glowed on his skin and armour as it became hot and close, but he seemed unaffected as he worked with the flames.When the heat was sweltering and the fire in the furnace was huge, the man left the now-bright room, with its layered flickering shadows and sweltering orange air, for the cold darkness of the dawn.Or the dream of dawn.It should have been dawn; there was no tint of light in the sky, but the world knew when it was supposed to wake, and it was ready. Yet it was dark, and the world only watched.All the sound in the world was insects and the rustling of leaves, and even the crackling of the furnace was muted as the door swung shut. And then along with the insects and the leaves came again footsteps, expensive leather boots on neatly-laid paving slabs, this time around the villa, past the stable and kennel, and then up the path to the door.The floors were cold, and the walls were dark; after a moment, the man removed his boots before he stepped further inside. As he crossed the atrium to a darkened study, his pace was slow and intentional.The contents of the desk were scattered; books and scrolls lay on the floor, ink spilled staining the wood, and for a moment, the man surveyed the carnage. In the darkness, his brow twitched ever so slightly downward.He used a crumpled swatch of cloth from inside his cloak to wipe up the spilled ink. He re-organised the books, including ones still hidden, and placed them in some unspoken order in piles on the desk. Then he crossed - strides faster, but still controlled and calm - to a bedroom, and retrieved two books hidden there; he paused at a third hiding spot, already empty. Another was retrieved from the dining room, and another from the wall of the garden, and then when he was done, he stood and looked at the desk.For a moment, the man seemed to blur. It was dark in the room, but his stone features were suddenly illuminated as if by firelight. In the same way it should have been dawn, a boy should have crumpled to the floor and screamed and screamed - but just as it was not dawn, so his own body held its shape, its composure, as he tapped out five precise taps on the back of the chair, and took a breath that did not tremble:Tap tap tap tap tap.Within his boots, his toes curled against the floor. Sharply, he turned. He took up an unlit torch from the wall, and when his fingers brushed the handle flames burst forth, no powders this time. He crossed the villa, to the bathhouse above the furnace.Steam rose from the water, greeting him with warm fingers as he closed the door behind him. He fit the torch into its sconce and turned to the bath.As the man undid his cloak, his hands were still and sure. He did not blur. There was no illumination on his features but for the steady light of the single torch. Pulling the cloak from around his shoulders, he folded it neatly and laid it on the tile beside him. His belt was undone, sword and dagger aligned perfectly parallel, and then went each of the straps of his armour, which joined the cloak.His breaths had started to accelerate. Hands on his tunic, the man stared down at the flickering firelight reflection of his face in the water, until the eyes were silver-steel and the hands were still and the face was lit by nothing but a single steady torch.Then he removed his tunic and his undergarment, and folded them both beside the cloak and the armour and the belt.All that was left was a leather harness on his shoulder, and the sheath it held against his ribs, and the dagger inside. Staring directly ahead, at the mosaic wall painted orange in the dark, the man stepped down and slipped into the bath.There were goosebumps along his skin, and as the heat enveloped him a shiver jerked at his body.Breathing slowly and steadily, he took the dagger from its sheath and carefully made two clean cuts in the leather. With great care, he removed the harness and placed it behind him on the tile, with the rest.For a second, he paused.He raised one arm carefully above the water. A warm trail of water dripped from his hand to his elbow, each droplet of water returning to the bath echoing too loudly, and his breaths were shallower now and his eyes wavering in the reflection of torchlight on water.The man made one neat cut, precise and unwavering, from halfway down his forearm to his wrist. Blood welled immediately. It beaded from the neat wound, and for a second time froze. Then it began to pour, following the trail of warm water, dripping fast and loud into the bath.Another few seconds passed as he stared at the pouring blood and the blossoms of darkness like ink in the water.Then, transferring the dagger to the other hand, the man made the second cut. At the last second, his hand hitched, and before the blade left his flesh it tore clumsily at the skin of his wristHe placed the dagger back on the tile, fingers trailing blood. It spilled into the water; it should have turned first pink and then red, but in the gloom it was only black.His breaths were coming faster. Silver-steel eyes blinked, and became bright blue-grey. In the swirls of black in the surface of the water, his skin glowed with firelight.Suddenly fighting for breath, chest heaving, the man leant his head back against the tile, arms resting on the warm surface of the water. His bright blue-grey eyes were unfocused and his lips moved softly.A tremor tore up his whole body, cutting up the water, cracking his stone features as a boy crumpled and screamed and screamed."I'm sorry," the man whispered, the words slurring, almost unintelligible.The world pressed in, watching, hungry.As the bright blue-grey eyes became glassy and blank, and his body slipped down so that water snatched at his skin and pulled his face beneath the surface, the terror vanished as suddenly as it had broken.His lips turned upward and formed the outline of whispered words that were lost in a cascade of bubbles which broke thickly through the blood-dense water.Dawn came.And it was like this that the man died.
Cheerful! (nervous laugh) Umm, so that's... The first chapter, called "Epilogue", of my novel Sylvestus Volume I: The Fall. That is currently available on Lulu.com, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and many others, umm... Amazon is currently being a piece of poop to its workers, so I will kindly request that you - if you want to buy Sylv through the quarantine, that's amazing, thank you, I would request that you get an ebook version or go directly through Lulu.com, at this time, support Amaz-- no, don't support Amazon, support their workers... I'm trying. I'm... Trying.
Erm... Volume II is looking to be released some time during 2021, stick around for more of that, um, I'll probably be doing the next few chapters of Volume I over the next few weeks if people are down for that, also let me know in the comments what else you might be interested in. I've had requests for, um, more content about sort of, the writing process, I'd like to talk to other writers about that as well, that'd be awesome, then... I could do some readings from Sylv Volume II, if people have already read Volume I and are excited for previews of Vol II instead, or there's other pieces that I've been working on, sort of in the works, there's um... Cyberpunk-y detective... Murder... Stuff, that one's pretty cool, or... Steampunk... Future... Retro...
Sorry, there was a loud bing and I can't tell whether it's at my end or not. Anyway, let me know. Hope you enjoyed! Stay safe.
