Sintel the Novel: Full (The Story of Sintel and Scales)


<strong>Prologue</strong>

Young Sintel was born in a small cottage on the outskirts of Ishtop. There, the forest was always green, quiet, and unforgivable. Her mother named her Sintel, which was Ishtonian for Blind Cylinder. Her father kept dragons out back. He was<!–more–> a fair-looking man, but work was steadily working on his appearence, but still he kept himself in shape. He had a strange ability for calming dragons. Any dragon he came near would become docile. He used his ability to capture and raise them outside the cottage. They served a number of purposes: fodder, friendship, and in desperate cases, food. Sintel was three years of age and old enough to understand friendship. She had birthed a friendship with the smallest dragon in the bunch, but her family’s food stock was running low. By this time her mother was pregnant again with a little boy (or so they assumed).

“Maman, the little dragon is flying!”

She called her mother outside and they watched as the little dragon flew in circles. Her mother smiled and laughed, and Sintel herself coukdn’t refrain from a joyous laugh. It wasn’t so joyous that night. The candle on the table would hold a flame that seemed to mock all of Sintel’s worries. Her mother was becoming weak from the low food ration and she was six months pregnant. She held onto her mother, letting a few tears slip. Her father came in from outside, and was sweating from the unbearable heat. He saw Sintel and her mother sitting at the table, both of them crying.

“Rinne…you’re so pale!” he immediately rushed to her and held her hand.

Sintel glanced up at her mother and said, “Maman, please don’t cry.”

Her father withdrew from Rinne’s side and went outside. Sintel followed him like the sweet little girl she is, and asked him, “Papa, where are you going?”

There was no answer from him.

He went to the dragon pen and carefully picked up he smallest dragon, whom had been napping with the other dragons.  Sintel’s eyes widened, and she shouted, “We can’t eat him! He’s my friend!” She ran to her father, crying with sadness and her heartbeats pounding, and she tried to grab the dragon from his hold.

“Don’t kill him!” she cried loudly, “he’s my only friend!”

“We have no choice, Sintel. Your mother is extremely sick and malnourished, I can’t let this go on any longer!”

“Go to town! Go and buy her something!”

Her father bent down to her level and whispered in a desperate, slightly angered, hushed tone, “You know our situation, Sintel. This is our only choice left. Please, hush.”

He walked into the little makeshift shed by the trees, and she watched through the holes in the wooden gate. All she could see was his shadow, and a sharp sound. She ran back into the house and hid under the table. Under there, she hid away and unleashed a waterfall of tears.

When her Father came back in, she could smell freshly cooked meat. She slowly rose up, human instinct and hunger taking over. He had to feed the food to Rinne, whom was too tired to open her mouth, but surely she had to. Sintel took small bites, and with every gulp she felt her body shiver. That little dragon was in her now.

Life was unforgiving from the start. A few weeks later, when Rinne was finally getting her strength back, there was a raid on the small cottage. Sintel was in her room when <em>they</em> broke down the door. They were from the main city, and were past communicators with her Father. They were Ishtop’s unofficial leaders. They sent raiders to do their dirty work. Sintel rushed downstairs and saw her mother on her back, pinned to the floor, and gazing worriedly at Sintel. The little girl hid by the wall, and she saw her mother decapitated by a gruff looking man whom held her down by the neck. He used a primitive blade to cut her life short.

It wasn’t safe inside. Sintel made her escape out the window, and was sure the raider had seen her. She ran to the trees, hoping they would provide safe cover. From there she watched the terror unfold. The dragons in the pen were being strapped down with strong ropes and beheaded like worthless animals. A whine slipped from her mouth, and she saw her Father being taken away out of the house, his arms bound by rope. One of the raiders threw a torch at the house, and the fire spread like a virus. It dangerously engulfed the cottage in a hell of flames. Sintel slouched down against the tree and gazed at the sky aimlessly.

“Let me go!”

Her father’s shout had drawn her attention from the sky, and she saw one of the female raiders planting a wooden pole into the Earth’s ground. All ten of them tied Sintel’s Father to it, and without an ounce of remorse, without an second thought or a flinch, they set it ablaze. His screams filled the midsummer night, causing night animals to flee. Sintel covered her mouth and cried. Before retreating into the forest, she saw the face of the head-leader of the Raiders. Life had betrayed her again.
————————————————————————————-
<em>Sintel’s Story by Nipaporn Baldwin</em>

<em>Based off of the movie Sintel by the Blender Foundation</em>

<em>This is the first ever Sintel novel/story adaptation</em><p>
<br><strong>Sintel: The Novel: Part One</strong>

<br>

The world can be an unforgiving place when people are not willing to forgive. This story is not about forgiveness, it’s about how far love can stretch when it’s the only thing you possess in your life. Sintel had traveled far, and had reached the top of a mountain. She examined her surroundings, the cold casting its chill on her, and for once she felt calm. But that calmness went away. A thief had snuck up behind her, and she blocked his attack with her walking stick. It had suffered from the attack, being cut in half, and now she had to act fast. The thief tried to kill her with his sword but she managed to dodge, but that had put her against a wall and nearly at the brink of death. The attacker tried hard to make use of the wall and hold her there, hoping to bring about a quick death, but she managed to stick him in the arm with the only knife she had on hand. He threw her far, and the sword landed near her. He ran towards her, and the only defense near her was the sword, and she used it to her advantage. She pushed the sharp tip into the heart of the enemy, and he collapsed near her. She was sure he was dead. She lay there for a moment, trying to take in what had just happened. She saw a small hut positioned on a hill, and saw it as a temporary salvation from the blistering cold. After a few moments she took a few steps forward, using the sword as leverage to walk, but sooner or later she collapsed from exhaustion.

* * *

She opened her eyes and hadn’t a clue where she was. It took a moment for her to realize that she was in the small hut she had seen earlier. She saw an old man handling the sword, and he unexpectedly spoke, “this blade has shed much innocent blood.”
He walked back to the small fire and tended to the brewing soup.
“You’re a fool for traveling all alone, so completely unprepared. You’re lucky your blood’s still flowing.”
He handed her a bowl of the soup and she took a small gulp of it.
“Thank you.” She said lightly.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Sintel. My name is Sintel.” She replied, her voice still light.
Her mind was still in a haze. He sat down on the opposite side of the fire.
“So, what brings you to the land of the gatekeepers?” he asked.
“I…um…I’m searching for someone.”
“Someone very dear? A kindred spirit?” he wondered.
She halted, and then replied, “A dragon.”

This was a surprise. Out of all the people that wandered to his hut in seek of shelter; she was the first to say she was looking for a Dragon. Those creatures were seldom seen in Ishtop.

“That’s a dangerous quest for a lone hunter.” He said.
“No, not really. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember.”
——————————————————————————————

Her mind started to reminisce the many years of loneliness, including that one day, back
in the town of Ishtop, when she found him. She was rummaging through the alleyways for food like she had always done every morning. Nighttime wasn’t the best time for foraging. She pulled back a broken door and unearthed a few unfavorable pieces of fruit. The flies were in a swarm around the rotten food. She picked up a strange vegetable and sniffed it. It was the foulest thing she ever smelt! At that moment she heard a thud on the roof behind her. She climbed up the building to investigate and withdrew her knife, hoping it be a bird for dinner. But no, it wasn’t. A little baby dragon crawled away from her in fear of that shiny weapon she held. She was surprised at the discovery. A dragon, of all things, had crash-landed in Ishtop.

&nbsp;

She looked closely and saw the gaping wound on the dragon’s wing, and the large amount of blood he had lost. He screeched in pain, and deep in her heart she knew what he felt. She lightly shushed at him and inched closer. She held out her hand, and in response the curious dragon sniffed it. She couldn’t refrain from smiling at the little creature. He felt she was a very friendly soul.

<a href=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/812sintel2010hdripx264.png”><img class=”aligncenter size-medium wp-image-75″ title=”812sintel2010hdripx264.png” src=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/812sintel2010hdripx264.png?w=300&#8243; alt=”” width=”300″ height=”127″ /></a>

<a href=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/733sintel2010hdripx264.png”><img class=”aligncenter size-medium wp-image-76″ title=”733sintel2010hdripx264.png” src=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/733sintel2010hdripx264.png?w=300&#8243; alt=”” width=”300″ height=”127″ /></a>Sintel bought the dragon to her home in the backstreets, which was nothing but cloth, curtains and drapes constructed around sticks, poles and rods, like a tent. Her bed was soft and comfortable, but that’s all it was. It was not a mattress nor was it the type the rich folks used. She wiped the dragon’s wing with a cloth and pressed down hard to suppress the bleeding. The little baby dragon screeched loudly at the pain and he even tried to leave. She held him tightly so she could finish.
*Scccrreeeccchhhh*
“Hey, hold still! I’m trying to help you.”
After a while the dragonet calmed down and looked at her with big, beady eyes. She smiled at the cute little thing.

When night came she placed a wooden bowl of water by a cloth bed she made for the dragon. He sat on his bed and she lay in her own.
“Goodnight, Scales.” She said before retiring to sleep.

Over the course of a few weeks she would help him slowly regain his strength. She took him out to the Barrier of the city and allowed him to hunt the small cattle animals that dwelled there. First he would chase them around, most of his attempts ending without success, and then he would begin using flight to gain the advantage over them. At night, just before the moon reached it’s waxing stage, she would carry him to the highest hill and tell him stories about how the pastures of Ishtop became barren. The stories were about an emperor from a rival city that used “turned” dragons to set the pastures of Ishtop
ablaze. In the early mornings they would sneak into a private creek owned by the chief of Ishtop and she would watch happily as the little dragon tried to swim in the shallow waters. If there were a heaven in Ishtop, this would be it. As weeks passed his wing started to heal, and eventually she allowed him to sleep by her at night, and by week’s end the wound on his wing was nothing more than a scar. She held his little talons tightly, feeling a bit of comfort from the hatchling. He felt familiar to her…

&nbsp;

<a href=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/3.png”><img class=”aligncenter size-medium wp-image-305″ title=”3″ src=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/3.png?w=300&#8243; alt=”” width=”300″ height=”127″ /></a>
By Tuesday morning his wing had fully healed. So, they decided to test it out again. In the marketplace chickens were dwelling unattended. This would be Scale’s first time in the city streets. Scales set after one of the chickens, and it put up quite a good run.
Sintel followed behind and shouted encouraging words, “C’mon Scales! Get him!”
The chicken hopped over a wagon, and Sintel hopped over a barrel to keep up with it. The chicken started flying and Sintel made a sharp right turn and quickly lost sight of it (and knocked over a box of apples in the process). She looked around and didn’t see the chicken nor Scales.
“Scales?”
She heard a loud squawk and the chicken flopped down in front of her. She looked up and saw Scales perched on a rooftop. He looked up at the flock of birds in the sky and looked back at Sintel. She knew he wanted more. He wanted to soar.
* * *

She ran up a flight of stairs to reach the top of the highest building in the city. Scales was soaring high with the birds and enjoying the feeling of the evening light upon him.
Although she was breathless, Sintel shouted at the top of her lungs, “yaaayy!!
wwoooooohhhh!!!!” But the happy moment had become a nightmare. Sintel spotted the giant adult dragon that suddenly appeared. It roared loudly and tried to grab Scales by the wing. He screeched loudly as he went down but quickly regained flight. He flapped his wings hard in an attempt to fly away from the dragon.
Sintel tried to hurry him along, “C’mon!”

But the moment he reached her the bigger dragon snatched him. The adult dragon grabbed Scales with its foot and carried him away. Sintel held out her hand in hopes of trying to touch him, and Scales cried loudly, also holding out his hand. The dragon’s tail whacked Sintel I the back and made one last roar of triumph before leaving the reaches of the city. Sintel shouted his name but by that time the dragon was nothing but a small dot amongst the dawn of the setting sun. She looked on and a feeling of retribution overcame her.

&nbsp;

<a href=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/sintel_2010_hdrip_xvid_ac3-vision_screen_1.png”><img class=”aligncenter size-medium wp-image-77″ title=”sintel_2010_hdrip_xvid_ac3-vision_screen_1.png” src=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/sintel_2010_hdrip_xvid_ac3-vision_screen_1.png?w=300&#8243; alt=”” width=”300″ height=”127″ /></a>
————————————————————————————————

She left the city with only a coat and walking stick. The land beyond the city was a vast graveyard of dead trees and half-cut tree trunks. She traveled past the hilltops, using the walking stick as leverage. Night had become a passage into day. she trekked through the sandy deserts, the hot sun beating heat upon her and making it hard to see. She traveled through the lush green of a bamboo forest and jumped over fallen bamboo as butterflies flew away as she passed through. She made unexpected contact with a strange four-legged dog creature, and in a fight to pull it off the creature cut her arm.
She braced the strong winds that dare throw her back, and her walking stick was handy in her hand. She sighed as she worked her tired body through the rain. Luckily the coat came in handy. She climbed the highest peak of the mountain and pulled herself up. That’s where the unexpected thief was waiting. That’s where the fight started.
Back in the little hut, back in present time, she laments. The Shaman lowered his pipe and sighed a bit.
“I have failed.” She said, her <!–more–>eyes on the verge of tears.
“You’ve only failed to see.” Said the Shaman.
Sintel looked at him with a dumbfound expression. He picked up the sword-stick and said, “These are dragonlands, Sintel. You are closer than you know.”
He handed her the sword and she gazed at the engraving of Dracaena Cinnabari, in other words, the Dragon Blood Tree. By nighttime’s dawn she set out to find the tree, using the Shaman’s directions to find it. She reached the tree that seemed to guard the cave, and she took her first step inside. The moonlight lit the way into the cave. Glowing blue crystals had dominated the inside of the cave. She kept her breath steady. There it was: the dragon parent was feasting on a freshly caught kill. She crept atop a walkable structure and jumped down. The parent was still feasting and hadn’t heard anything. She saw her target. Scale was sleeping peacefully in a “rock bed.” She crept over to him and reached her hand out. The baby dragonet opened his eyes and screamed in fear. The Dragon heard the child’s cries and saw Sintel intruding. Quickly it it’s mouth wide and blew a breath off fire. Sintel did an overoll to dodge the fire and hide behind a boulder. The sword was still in her hand. She saw Scales run off, and she called out to him, “Scales!”
The dragon parent peered behind the rock and she broke into a run. It jumped in front to block her escape route out and it angrily hissed at her. She saw Scales running from behind the parent and she shouted,
“Scales! It’s me!”

<a href=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/082l_comp_000465-jpg.jpeg”><img src=”http://thesocietyondarun.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/082l_comp_000465-jpg.jpeg&#8221; alt=”” title=”082l_comp_000465.jpg” width=”600″ height=”255″ class=”aligncenter size-full wp-image-89″ /></a>

Of course, the dragonet didn’t hear her. The dragon screamed another round of fire at her and she flopped out of the way. It crept toward her like a snake waiting to swallow it’s prey. It lunged at her with all it’s might, and she used the sword to protect her. The dragon swung her around but she was reluctant to let go of that sword. She managed to slip it free and stuck the dragon in it’s head. It screamed and clambered backward. She jumped off and watched as it fell onto a pillar. She got up and tried to run in one direction, and the dragon swiped at her with it’s tail, but she backflipped and landed under the dragon. She slashed at it with her sword but the dragon grabbed the sword with it’s mouth and kicked her away. She and the sword were sent flying towards a crystal. She tried to get up but was too exhausted to move. The dragon jumped into the air and landed by Sintel. It glared at her, letting a few growls slip from his mouth. It felt something ting in it’s head. It lowered itself to sniff her. She gasped, it looked at her in confusion. She felt fearful that it would strike with a deadly blow or maul her, so she grabbed the sword. His chest was perfectly exposed. She slashed at him and with all her force she thrust the sword into his chest. The dragon screamed in fear and pain and ran backwards and crashed into the cave wall. She ran towards it with the sword, ready to strike a final blow.
The dragon flinched, clearly afraid. Her eyes wandered to the dragon’s wing, and it was then that she realized this dragon was the one she was looking for, the one she came all this way to reclaim. She began to see that little baby in this grown up dragon, but her eyes were deceiving her. He grew up without her. She threw down the sword in horror and disgust.
“Scales?”
The dragon quietly coughed like a child does when it’s cried itself nearly to death. It let out a low growl, a death knell.
“Scales?”
Blood seeped from the dying dragon’s open wounds, and Sintel saw herself for the first time in nearly four decades. Her body had been ravaged by the distrust of the world, and her ruby red hair had greyed from years of searching. She did not know how long she had spent looking for him, and when she fully examined herself she was astonished and disheartened. It was a cruel revelation that she could blame for her faltered memory, and herself in general. Scales took one final, low growling breath, and closed his eyes on the world and Sintel. She could not believe the path things toom. He was gone from the Earth and her searching was in vain. The ceiling of the cave began to crumble. She looked up, and at first she couldn’t move her legs, but she managed to nearly escape the crumbling cave that forever sealed Scales’s dead corpse within it.
She sat alone at the cliff edge, and recollected old memories and felt extreme pain at what she had just done. It was eerily quiet, except for a few birds squawking. He was gone; and she couldn’t believe she had killed him. She sat for a long while, the dragon blood tree behind her was still healthy and growing. She dizzily walked away and removed the weaponry and extra paraphernalia she had bought with her at the start of the journey. She wouldn’t need it now. The way back home might be less of a journey. She was unaware of the soulful castoff that followed after her. She was unaware of his (now) fatherless son that followed her home. He had no choice.

THE END

Come take my journey into night
Come be my shadow, walk at my side
And when you see all that I have seen,
Can you tell me love from pride?

I have been waiting for this time
For one to wake me, one to call mine
So when you’re near all that you hold dear,
Do you fear what you will find?

As the dawn breaks through the night
I move on, forever longing for the home
I found in your eyes

I will be listening for the drum
To call me over far away from
My tender youth, and the very truth,
Showing me what I’ve become

As the dawn breaks through the night
I move on, forever longing for
The home I found in your eyes
Your voice saw me through the night

<strong>Sintel’s song, performed by Helena Fix
Music by Jan Morgenstern
Lyrics by Esther Wouda</strong>

——————————————————————————————–
<em>About Sintel: Sintel is the newly released free movie made by the Blender Foundation. It’s sole purpose is to show off the power of the free 3D program, Blender. Everything used to make the movie was released under a Creative Commons Attribution license, for anyone to use, share and use commercially as long as they credited the Blender Foundation and the movie Sintel. You can read more about this movie at <a href=”http://www.sintel.org”></a></em&gt; Novelization by L’Poni B.

I hope you enjoyed this novel! You can buy it from here to help support me!
<a href=”http://www.amazon.com/Sintel-Novel-Story-Scales-ebook/dp/B006HIQVKC&#8221; title=”Buy Sintel the Novel from Amazon.com”>Buy Sintel the Novel from Amazon.com</a><br>
<a href=”http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/105819&#8243; title=”Buy Sintel the Novel from Smashwords”>Buy Sintel the Novel from Smashwords</a>

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: