Remnants Of Thought

no logic

2008-12-10T02:13:18Z

Those closest
to the heart
are the ones
you never thought
would leave

You were SURE;
it's too ridiculous
the logic fits

There is no logic anymore.

demand

2008-12-10T02:10:29Z

Lizard King
what did you bring
in the form of prose
or, I suppose
your poetry?
I can't stand
when those who demand
pleasure
also demand real music

Why

2008-10-25T18:12:52Z

Why
does one cry
only in sorrow?
Why
does one laugh
only in joy?

The difference
between sanity
& insanity

the Blue man

2008-10-05T05:09:43Z

blue man
w/ blue eyes.
source of storms
& safety's embrace.

we sometimes clashed w/
much regret,

'cause I can't forget
the summer days
and winter nights
in which we spoke w/
passion and the awe of
curiosity.

well,
at least I did.
his young yet ancient
mind
knew all, had seen all.

he was a pool of clearest waters
w/ enigmas submerged in deepest
depths--
this man was my soothing clarity
in darkest hours.

some afternoons
the man of blue
drew his insturment and struck--
then dead air shook alive.
magic.
that was life's truest
pleasure.
it was real.

but one ordinary gray morning
he hitched a ride
to escape a tide
of troubles.

I hope he's not alone.
I know he's now a
star
playing a
great gig in the sky.

Goodbye, my blues man.

June 11, 1954- September 26, 2008

another story

2008-09-24T04:25:33Z

I've broken off from 'Chronicles' to write a bit about another character. It's a rather stupid story, created on a whim, but I felt that I should post it here anyway. I think it might be the start of something new...though I should really finish 'Chronicles' before starting something else.

Oh well. Call me an idiot.

--Nameless City--

I shot every single person dead at the infamous X House, an agency for which I had provided eight months of service, only to discover that there had been members keeping a close eye on me. Obviously, I couldn't have that.
So, as aforementioned, I killed every single bastard at the agency. They were a heartless, powerful bunch, gaining the trust of politicians, other agencies, and rich gangs, cheating them out of cash, drugs and weapons, only to later send an assassin to dispose of a client as soon as their wealth began to run dry. They managed to do all of this without getting caught in the process or after the fact—they had a reputation to uphold. I was hired as an assassin, but I had my own purpose in mind when I joined the X House. That purpose was to kill the agency leader, Clyde Terrance.
But, of course, the plan wavered as soon as I had become dangerously close to being found out, and I knew I couldn't let an X member make even an educated guess as to what I was up to. In my mind, even baseless guesses are too troublesome to risk letting off.
And so on October 7th, in the year 3027 at 8 P.M., I spilt the blood of every member present at the headquarters of the X House agency. The only problem was that the most important member, the main man, had slipped away amidst the chaos I had created.
"Clyde," I uttered under my breath, "I'm coming for you."
***
Friday, October 10th, 9 A.M., I sat up in my motel room, yawning and closing the tacky, yellowish-colored blinds; I couldn't stand the sun first thing in the morning. I hauled myself over to the gritty, sink-only bathroom, and without lights I took a bleary-eyed look at myself in a cracked mirror. I still looked the same, as I had for the last ten years or so; six-foot-zero-inches, lean, shoulder-length hair a strange blue tint, a long face, and most annoying of all, my crimson eyes, the hue visible even in nearly no lighting whatsoever. I had passed out after throwing half my clothes off the night before; it was a long, arduous ride from the X House to this new city, this place I didn't have a name for yet.
"Shit," I mumbled, twisting the sink's knob for cold water, but to no gain. That's what I got for stumbling into the cheapest motel in town, I supposed. I gave up on washing my face, and instead went to gather up my clothes that were strewn on the floor. Then I happened to notice the bloody smell still staining the shirt and jacket; I chucked them both into a trashcan in a corner of the room and fumbled around in the dark for my duffel bag to grab a new shirt.
Something clicked on in my head, my brain starting to wake up. I was in one of the shadiest parts of town, most likely, and I remembered that I had parked my bike outside in the open. Out in the open with my duffel bag on the seat.
Suddenly, I heard an engine roar close by, right outside.
I nearly tore the blinds off the window to confirm my fears; some asshole was trying to steal my bike.
I shouted out before I had even lifted up the windowpane:
"HEY, MOTHERF—HEY!"
He was already making off with it, the tires squealing on the pavement as it left the parking lot.
I leaped out the second-floor window without hesitation, hoping in desperation that I could catch him. Thankfully I was still wearing my boots, and the hit my feet took on the ground wasn't as painful as I expected it to be.
I cursed and yelled and shouted, sprinting after my motorbike and praying that the guy would at least drop my duffel bag. But ultimately, after I chased him several blocks down the street, he got away—and there I was, a half-naked, cussing idiot, with only my guns holstered on my belt, and no extra clothes, supplies or means of transportation.
"Clyde will find me first at this rate," I griped, frantically searching for a quick way to get myself out of this mess.
I guess someone either heard my commotion, or they had noticed the panting, cussing, sweaty, shirtless man clenching his hair on the side of the road, because a woman's voice behind me inquired, "Are you all right, sir?"
I whirled around to find a pretty face, staring with a raised eyebrow at my stressed expression. She looked like a punk; a pair of tinted red glasses, a torn shirt, torn jeans, and short hair dyed blue and cropped at the base of her neck, as well as several ear piercings all indicated a tomboyish type of girl. Despite that, her figure was very feminine, and at the moment she had her hands firm on her hips, glaring at me with intensely bright, green eyes.
"So?" She said, still waiting for an answer, "What happened? If that guy pinched your stuff, I got the license num—"
"That was my stuff AND my bike he made off with."
"Oh?" Her glare morphed into a curious stare. "In that case, I still think I can help you."
"Come again?"
She scoffed at me. "I said I can help you, if you want it."
This chick's just an ordinary kid, I thought. She's got no business with me.
"'S all right," I replied, and trying not to sound too sarcastic I added, "I really doubt that someone like you could help me out right now."
Suddenly, a fury lit up those eyes of hers, and she marched forward, standing on the tips of her toes to get as close as she could to my face.
"Listen to me, asshole, I'm not just another stupid bimbo prancing around town," she spat. I was taken aback, unaware that stupid bimbos like her even had the brain capacity to get pissed off. I stayed composed.
"I never said you WERE. All I'm saying is, I don't need your help, so don't get all worked up. I'm leaving now, so have a nice day, ma'am."
I turned to walk away, passing the girl as I went, but then froze in my tracks when she spoke in a low tone:
"What if I told you that an X House member was the guy that stole your bike?"
Now it was my turn to start staring.
"What did you say?"
The girl leaned over to take me by the hand and said, "Let's talk at my place."
I was skeptical, of course, but since I had nothing else to go on, I simply complied, following the young woman towards an apartment complex on the next block.
***
I was inside a very…colorful living space. I'd swear that the damn girl was a freak; I couldn't see how she managed to find her own bedroom, with the piles of clothes, dishes and random little devices and trinkets and junk she had lying around. But there were some noticeable items that caught my attention; old music CDs, a whole shelf full of them from the floor to the ceiling that were ancient relics a thousand years old, and three computers, the kind that a person had to type with a keyboard manually. In this day and age, with touch-screens and voice-operated systems, I didn't understand why this girl used keyboards and compact discs. But I didn't get the chance to question it, because she immediately dragged me next to the one clean spot in the apartment, her sofa, and shoved me onto it.
"Sit, stay, I'm gonna go grab you a shirt," she ordered, and skipped off to another room. A minute later she came back and tossed me an oversized, red t-shirt, which I immediately threw on.
"Thanks," I said.
"Don't thank me for that. I just didn't want you sitting around my house shirtless. I'm just glad you kept your pants on." She snickered, and I raised an eyebrow.
"Were you watching me the whole time?"
"From the moment you jumped out the motel window, yeah," she answered. "It was coincidence, really, 'cause I was actually spying on the guy who stole your bike."
"Why? What does an X House member have anything to do with you?"
For a moment, she lowered her eyes in thought.
"Well? I thought you were going to tell me."
She raised her head, saying, "I know. But now you're demanding that I tell you just how I myself am involved…I'm afraid that's a secret."
I'd expected her to say that much, but now I was more curious in her involvement than I was in getting my bike back. I decided to be sly about my questioning:
"Okay, well, tell me who the guy that stole my bike was."
"His first name's Enrique. He's the leader of one of X House's factions, the main drug unit. Apparently, there was an attack at the main HQ down south, three days ago. It was a mass murder spree by one of their own members, and all but one of them was killed. An outside spy had witnessed this event, and the news spread quickly to the other factions. X House's leader, Clyde Terrance, was the sole survivor, and his whereabouts are currently unknown. But the remaining factions are now on a desperate search for him…as well as on a manhunt for the mass-murderer."
I couldn't have been more baffled if I had made an effort. Who WAS this woman? How did she have access to this kind of information?
"Excuse me," I said, "Just how—"
"How do I know all of this? Well, all right, I guess I'll tell you my secret, just because you look so curious. Let's just say that…I'm a pretty good hacker. One of the only hackers left in the world, actually. I've got three illegally set up old manual computers so that I can bypass government overseers that keep watch on the new electronic systems that most other people use."
She twirled around a short lock of her deeply blue hair, an innocent smile playing across her lips. I knew the reason behind her smirk.
"And you, Metal, are the mass-murderer, enemy to every X House member in the country."
She even knew my code name. I just had to sigh.
"Yes, that bit of info you have is correct. But I don't feel obligated to tell you why I did what I did…other than I'm still after Clyde."
"And that's all you need to tell me. I can't say that I know for sure where Clyde is, but I can show you where your stuff is stashed." She smiled coyly.
I relaxed my stiff posture a little. "This Enrique knows who I am. That's got to be the reason why he took my bike—he's trying to lure me into a trap."
What lingered at this point now, was the question of what kind of trap was lying in wait for me.
***
The girl insisted that I should wait for at least another day, in order to make preparations. She was to come along, for she had a stealthy plan in mind for obtaining my bike without falling for Enrique's so-called 'trap', and perhaps even implementing another idea she had in mind.
"You should try and take down this faction, too," she said. "The drug scene around here has gotten way out of hand because of the X House, you know."
I didn't say anything to that. But then I realized that she was doing all the talk, so I asked her a simple question:
"You haven't told me your name yet. You know mine, so, what's yours?"
"My name…?" She gave me a puzzled look, as if it were a strange thing to ask. "My name is Maye. Yeah…"
She took her gaze off to another direction. "We've been talking a while. Are you getting hungry?"
"I guess. Can you cook?"
"Naw, are you kidding? I'd be a fatty if I could cook for myself. I usually order takeout."
I didn't object to that idea; I couldn't cook either. We ended up ordering pizza, but were suddenly left with nothing much else to talk about during the half-hour wait for food.
I had begun to drift off into a daydream-like stupor when a melodious sound floated through my ears.
"Guitar…?" I muttered, opening my eyes.
"Guitar," Maye answered. At first, I thought she had put in one of her old CDs, but to my surprise, she had actually picked up an acoustic guitar, and was plucking a familiar, classical tune.
"You can play Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' on guitar?" I said, thoroughly impressed.
"Yes. I taught myself how to play classical music. I can play anything, really. How else do you think I earned the cash to afford all my junk?" She smiled a half smile.
She sure likes to grin, I thought.
I listened to her playing, which had tones full of emotion, yet somehow relaxed and controlled. When the song finished, I granted her a little applause.
"Thankyouverymuch," she said in a mock-Elvis Presley voice, laughing.
The doorbell rang.
"Food's here!"
She set down her guitar, grabbed a ten-dollar bill from her pocket, and opened the door for the delivery boy, smiling politely while taking the pizza box out of his hands and replacing it with the cash. The boy gave her an odd look as he left (I couldn't think of anyone who still used cash, though it was still legal,) but Maye paid him no more mind, for she had already grabbed a slice out of the box and was ferociously chewing on it.
"Bon appetite," she said with a full mouth, placing the box in front of me. I grabbed a slice and ate it in silence, watching Maye pace around the room, grabbing another pizza slice, sitting down at one of her PC's, and chatting small talk and plans to me even though I gave her no replies. Eventually it got dark, and I finally said something.
"I'm getting tired. We have a long day tomorrow, and a tough job tomorrow night."
"That's true. Is the couch comfy enough for you?"
"Yeah."
"Good, 'cause I don't like sharing my bed. Unless you need a really good night's rest—I sleep like a baby on that thing."
"'S all right. I'll be fine here."
"Okay, then. Sleep well. I'm showering before I sleep—I know I'm sexy, but no peeking!" She winked at me, jogging off to the bathroom. I chuckled slightly.
"Right."
I stretched myself out on the sofa, pretending to drift off, listening for the sounds of Maye going into her room. Ten minutes went by, and then I heard a door click shut.
I watched the old clock that hung on the wall to my left, waiting for another ten minutes. When I was sure that Maye would be fast asleep, I arose from my lethargic position.
I reloaded my guns' ammo, and practiced a couple quick-draws. After that, I silently went to grab a black, leather jacket from Maye' coat rack, hoping she wouldn't mind as long as I brought it back, and stepped over to the open window on the other side of the room.
She'll get herself killed if she tags along. Sorry, girl. Gotta go alone.
A breeze swept past me as I jumped out, taking off into the night.
***
"UGH!"
So grunted the guard I had sniped from behind the drug faction building, which was just a huge hotel building that they had bought out. I darted over to the crumpled-up body and dragged it into a shadowed alleyway. Then I cautiously stepped through the front doorway, which, as Maye had mentioned, was actually the safest spot to enter—after all, one would usually expect intruders from the roof or the back of the building.
The inside still kept it's hotel lobby look as a cover, rather than being remodeled to look more like a gathering place for gangs; an impressive stone fountain, gushing water from a spout into the little round pool beneath it gave off a pale reflection in the dim lighting, and for a moment it obscured the view of a receptionist's desk and two elevators in the walls on either side of it.
A nice cover at that, I thought.
Like a noiseless wind without trees to rustle through, I half-walked, half-ran over to one of the elevators, planning to find the basement, when—
I cringed, nearly jumping when a hand tapped my shoulder.
"Shhh, Don't shoot."
I sighed, slapping my hand on my forehead.
"Maye," I whispered, "what the HELL do you think you're doing?"
"I should ask you the same thing."
"This is idiotic of you—"
"I'M not the one who's being idiotic, idiot. YOU'RE the one who took off without bothering to take the blueprint map."
I turned to face her as she held up a little device; after tapping a few key buttons, an image projected into the air. It was a map of the building, something I admittedly had forgotten about.
"Why didn't you show this to me before?" I asked.
"Because I knew you would try to take off alone."
Maye wasn't as much of a dumb bimbo as I had first thought. I sighed again, leaving out the sarcastic note to it.
"All right, you win," I resigned. "I guess I still need your help. And before you ask, yes, I DO plan on taking out this whole damn place, but only after I get my bike."
Maye folded her arms and nodded. "I understand. But tell you what; I've already got this place memorized, so if I lend you the map, will you go take out Enrique?"
"But—"
"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to your bike." She winked, walking past me to get to the elevator on the left side of the desk. "This lift goes to the lower levels, including the underground garage. The other one will take you to where Enrique is. But there are mobs of guards, so try to be stealthy about it. That way we can get this done without making a huge commotion…"
She trailed off, waiting for a response. I told her, "Sure. I'll be careful."
The elevator door slid open, and Maye stepped inside, quickly tossing me the map device after she did.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Hm?"
"I'll be needing my jacket back, as soon as this is over with." She grinned at me before the door closed again.
I looked at the still-activated map, confirming Enrique's location. I then followed Maye's example and went inside the other elevator, punching the code for the fourth floor.
I leaned back and waited as I felt gravity shift, the weight of the high-tech, claustrophobia-inducing box making it seem as if I was sinking and being lifted up at the same time. I shoved the map-device in Maye's jacket-pocket, the image's faint glow now smothered. I drew my right handgun, my semi-automatic fondly named "Storm", fiddling with it and performing a few fancy throws and flips here and there.
This is taking too long.
I folded my arms, wishing I had a cigarette. I remembered that I left an almost full pack in my duffel bag…which, of course, was still with my bike.
I thought of Maye.
She'd really better take care of herself.
A little mechanical beep sounded, and the door slid open, with two armed guards waiting on the other side.
"It's show time," I said, a slight smirk on my face.
***
There sure were a lot of guards for one building. Well, one floor. Even just for one section of one floor. My point is there WERE an insane number of guards, waiting for my attack, probably as Enrique had planned—but the guards were dumb, and I, on the contrary, was not.
One by one I took them down; but since Maye told me to be stealthy, my bullets would be saved for the ringleader. In place of gunfire was the sound of necks snapping, spines cracking, and bodies slumping to the hard floor, barely able to utter even a gasp before their quick, painless deaths.
"Sweet dreams," I cooed as I hand-chopped the neck of another guard.
I took occasional glances at the map, circling around the floor trying to find Enrique's room. I kicked down several doors, all rooms stashed with piles of drugs, and one room even held a gigantic safe which I assumed was where they kept at least some of the money.
Eventually, after taking out another two guys in my way, I found the rat I was looking for; though, apparently, I had interrupted something.
"Ugh," I groaned, "get a room, you two. One with better security."
Enrique and his whore both screamed, and the startled man tried to fumble around for something. But whatever it was, he never had a chance; one shot from me, and his brain matter smeared the walls, as well as the bedspread.
I nodded to the prostitute as I left, explaining, "That's what he got for stealing," and slammed the door behind me.
"Next item on the list: find Maye," I decided.
I wasn't sure whether her job was going to be as effortless as mine was, but I assumed that she was at least heading outside of the building with my bike by now. I jogged over to the nearest window, broke my code of stealth and charged through. Regardless of the shattered glass, I managed to avoid any scratches, and I just left myself fall, landing catlike on the sidewalk below.
Brushing off broken glass pieces, I once again took out the map, and puzzled over the location of the garage, which was a floor below ground. The garage exit was actually a block away from behind the building, so I started heading there.
As I turned around the street corner, I saw that I didn't have to go any further.
"Hey!" I called out to Maye, who beamed brightly as she rode my bike, proud of herself.
"Told you I would get it!" she shouted back. She hit the brake and waited for me to approach.
"Thanks," I said, panting a little. For some odd reason, all that I did inside the drug-house didn't tire me out, and yet now I felt weary and out of shape standing next to Maye, who hopped off the bike and gave it a pat.
"This thing's awesome—it looks custom made."
"Yeah, it is. I built it myself, actually. It used to belong to someone I knew. I added a bunch of parts, and I give it a good tune-up every couple of weeks."
She giggled girlishly.
"What?" I said. "What's so funny?"
"I didn't think you had any hobbies, or anything. Other than your job…whatever that is."
So, as I had guessed, she honestly didn't know about my real objective. Or maybe she was just good at pretending.
"So…" She gazed at me with wide eyes, fluttering her lashes behind her glasses.
"Nu-uh," I said firmly, "I'm not telling you what I do for a…living."
"Please—"
"Don't give me that. I'm thankful you helped me out, and I also did what you asked me, so I'm afraid I'm done here. I have nothing else to tell you."
Suddenly she seemed forlorn, though it was subtle.
"I see," she said softly. "But…"
I could have just hopped on my bike and taken off right then and there, but something, guilt, pity, whatever it was, forced me to stay and listen.
"But?"
Her eyes lit up as she enlightened me:
"I wanted to show you around the city. Not THIS part of the city—the exciting part. You know, not the run-down, hopeless part. I wanted to take you to the bar I work at, to watch me play some music. Me and my buddies always have a good time—you would, too."
I was surprised that she wanted to hang out with me so badly. We'd only known each other for what, a day and a night?
Though somehow, I couldn't refuse. But I didn't say anything right away, either. She prompted me:
"Would you—"
"Stay?"
"Just for another day or two. That's all I'm asking…"
I softened my seemingly cold expression, giving her a half-smile.
"Well, why not. I was in a hurry, but maybe not. I don't mind."
Then, she just laughed. A joyful laugh—it was strange, to me, how someone in such a shit-faced, crime-ridden city could be so profusely optimistic. Her cheerfulness was pleasant contrast to the surrounding dreariness, however; and so I, in my own little way, joined in, giving a good chuckle.
An idea struck me.
"Say," I started, "maybe we could—"
Then my eyes widened. I told Maye to move, but—
BOOM.
Maye's laughing face contorted into one of pain as blood surged from her chest, her heart. She fell forward, her eyes blank and her red-tinted glasses sliding off her nose; I caught her slender frame, knowing that one shot was all it took.
It was too late for her.
I gasped, holding the girl that was so vivacious, so full of infinite energy only mere seconds ago. I looked up in horrified rage to see Clyde Terrance, my target, ten feet away and sneering at the sight of a meaningless death.
***
October 13th, 10 A.M., I checked out of the motel room, walking outside along the parking lot to my bike in long strides. I settled myself on it, revving the engine, putting on gas.
"Come to the outskirts of Radial City," Clyde had said. "We will settle the score there."
I adjusted the red shades sitting on my nose, as well as the collar of the leather jacket on my shoulders. I revved the bike once more, so loudly that the engine's snarl echoed forth several streets down.
"Settle the score," I murmured, speeding away from Maye's city, the city I still had no name for.

Lament

2008-09-20T04:57:35Z

Lament
for the sky
...I don't know why
the stars vanished.
Out here
there is no moon;
In it's place
stands a bleary-lighted street lamp
barely rising above the suburbian households.
Faustian regret
for Orion, Cygnus, Pisces and Corona Borealis
who made up the heavens
...I sold my soul
to the blinding city.

ever more

2008-08-23T06:19:40Z

(This chapter marks the end of part one of book one.)

X:

Sarah felt someone jostle her awake. Reflexively, she reached her hand up and made an obscene gesture at whoever was trying to wake her.
"Let...me...sleep..." She mumbled, turning over on her side. But the sunlight had already forced her eyes open, so there was no point in her going back to sleep. She looked up to see who it was that shook her; Deacon was crouched low, dangerously close to her face.
"Boo," he joked. "Listen--"
"You PERVERT!!"
"Wha--"
"GET AWAY FROM ME!!"
Deacon received an inevitable blow from Sarah's boot; unfortunately for Deacon, she was aiming low.
"GYAH--!!!"
"Pervert! You were trying to rape me!"
"N-no...you..little..bi--"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence!! Now take THAT!!"
She swung her fist at his face, leaving Deacon with a slightly bloody nose, as well as a wounded pride.
"H-hey..." He sputtered, still trying to recover. "I WASN'T TRYING TO--"
"What's going on?"
The elfin boy had walked in on the quarrel, and after noticing Sarah's angry face and Deacon's wound(s,), he stuttered:
"D-Deacon! What did you do to poor Sarah?!"
Deacon looked mortified. "SARA--"
"He was trying to rape me! I was just punishing him!"
"Oh my!"
Deacon cut back in. "No! I was just telling her that--"
Kobi frowned. "That's no excuse!"
"YES IT IS!"
"He was touching me!!"
"NO, YOU'RE WRONG--"
"What are you all fussing about?"
It was Tirius. He looked serious, and at the same time, a bit confused. Sarah was in the position to strangle Deacon, while Kobi was attempting to split them apart. After noticing the elfin guard, they disassembled their frozen poses and stood normally in front of him. After a few moments passed (with Sarah burning her furious stare into Deacon's eyes,) Tirius spoke:
"E-everyone, including you humans, are to assemble near the temple, for our Priestess has had a great vision, and she wishes to tell it to her people, as well as her guests. As soon as you find the rest of your company, come to the temple."
Tirius then looked at Kobi and said to him, "You, Kobiyashi, are to follow me."
"But, why--"
"Just come, young one!"
The elfin boy reluctantly left the humans, trudging slowly after Tirius. A minute of silence passed, then Sarah wondered aloud:
"What does he mean, 'the rest of our company'?"
Deacon scratched his chin, pausing.
"What is it?" Sarah asked.
"...Dammit."
--------------------------------------
Skye's couldn't take it any longer. He opened his eyes, quickly turning away from the shining sun. Quite groggy, he had almost forgotten where he was. But after one glance at the sparkling lake, the memory of the night before returned to him.
"Ellora..." he mumbled, sitting up. He looked over at the tree where she had slept; she was gone.
Did she go back to the others?
Suddenly, one of the horned, long-legged creatures of the forest came trotting out from behind the bushes settled in front of him. The boy was startled, but only for a second; the creature just stared at him with its little black eyes. Skye stood up carefully, afraid to frighten this gentle animal. He approached it, but then it started to back away.
"Here...uh....little...horny guy. Yeah, those are some big horns of yours. It's ok..."
With a yelp, it leapt around and bounded away into an unknown thicket.
"Hey, you picked the wrong human to run away from!"
In a flash, Skye went after it. Along the way he knocked over dead logs, branches; going through the thicket in a blinding blur. Shortly, he found the creature, and screeched to a halt.
The horned-beast leapt away again, but now it was no longer in the way of a more fascinating sight.
The boy wondered if she had really come from what they called "Heaven"; she glowed in the morning sunrise, sitting upon a lonely stump overgrown with planted flowers and fuzzy grass. Her wings once again showed, and they moved and folded, loose fathers occasionally floating down to the soft earth. She was poised in a relaxed position, slightly hunched over, her elbows resting on her knees. Her face expressed that she was daydreaming; a look that he knew all too well.
But one thing stood out, above all else in her outer beauty; her lips were smiling.
It was the most beautiful smile that he had ever seen.
At that moment, as he stood there, still, silent, he gazed at her smiling face as if all of the happy days of his life had been gathered up into one moment, as if time had perpetually frozen in place, and all the world had stopped just for her. A single sound could have shattered this moment, any single movement, for that smile upon her face was precious, delicate, easily broken. Even so, he would have gathered up every piece of that smile, and, if it took until his life's end, put it back together. She could have been smiling there, in her same position, in the midst of a gory battle, a somber graveyard, hell itself, a void of nothingness, and all eyes, even the eyes of the blind would still be on her. If the world in all of its war-torn sadness, in its endless suffering, could glance at her if for only a second, it would all cease. There were a thousand-million things that Skye could have used to describe her, and that one smile, but there was nothing worthy, nothing his mind could conceive of.
He sighed. He slumped to the ground. His arms, limp. His legs, lame.
And she turned to him, as if she had already known that he was there.
Still frozen, still gaping, he failed to hear her speaking to him;
"Good-morning, Skye. Are you...are you alright?"
A few seconds passed before he could come up with a response, and stuttering slightly he said, "Um, h-h-hi. I-I'm fine...how about you?"
She stood and moved over to Skye's position; to his surprise, she sat down right next to him.
"Yes, I'm fine..." There was a silence, but then she spoke again.
"You were...at the lake last night?"
The boy suddenly realized his embarrassment from the night before, and blushed madly.
"I-I'm sorry! I was just walking around and I only caught a glimpse of you, honest! I didn't mean to--"
Ellora placed a hand over his mouth, shushing him.
"It's alright--I understand. I already knew you were there, anyway...so you don't have to hide it."
He had the feeling she knew; he was just surprised that she didn't seem upset. But the question he wanted to ask still lingered:
"Ellora...those wings of yours...are...are you an angel?"
She replied after a pause:
"I-I don't know, actually...it's...funny, but I don't remember anything. I can't think farther back then when I woke up in the room you found me in, trapped. That was a while ago...other than that, I don't recall anything else."
Ellora's wings slowly folded back, sunspots draping over them through the tree branches. She inched closer to Skye; his face suddenly felt hot.
"I...now, that I've seen your innocent eyes...I believe I can trust you...you and the others. I'm sorry that I've been acting so distant."
"Distant? You seemed pretty close to me. Just a bit shy, that's all."
She too, blushed. "You think so?"
"Yeah. It's no big deal..."
Once again, Skye was blessed with her heavenly smile. He felt himself leaning closer to her; his body was giving in, against his own will.
She made no move to get away; she was also leaning forward.
Their lips parted, faces close--
"Ellora!!"
"Skye! Ellora!"
"SKYE!! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!!"
Startled, the boy and girl jerked back; Ellora quickly hid her wings, a few feathers shaken loose. Skye stood up (hoping with every fiber of his being that his cheeks weren't still red) and called out to his friends:
"Over here, guys!"
In a few seconds, Deacon and Sarah popped out from behind the thick plant growth.
"What're you doing here, dumbass?!" Deacon yelled. "Thanks to you, we're gonna be late for this important elf-thing. We went looking through the whole damn forest just to find your stupid ass and--"
"What he said," piped up Sarah, "So let's go, guys!"
"O- okay..."
And so Skye and Ellora followed them through the forest, past the lake and back into the elfin city. Sarah informed the pair of where they were headed, and they continued to walk, noticing all of the other elves scurrying up the sacred path, on towards the temple. They followed the crowd, and eventually found a spot nearest to the temple.
"What's going on?!" Skye shouted, trying to make his voice clear over the chatter of the other elves. "Why're we here?!"
"That priestess chick wants to speak with the people, I guess," replied Deacon.
Then, all at once, everyone's voices ceased. The elfin priestess, in flowered garments covering her body from head to foot, emerged from the inside, accompanied by her faithful bodyguards. She called out to her people, in the elves' native tongue; clear, prominent. Unfortunately, the humans were completely lost when it came to understanding her words.
"What the heck's she saying?" Sarah asked quietly.
"I'll explain."
Out of the crowd, Kobi popped up. He huddled close to the humans in order for them to hear while his voice was but a whisper:
"She's addressing everyone in our native language, as you might have guessed. Over time we've picked up on the human language, and our own is dying out...but this prayer, what she's currently speaking right now, is one of the few memories we have left of our tongue."
"So then she'll be speaking our language again, soon?"
"Yes. Right about now, I'm sure..."
And just as Kobi said, at that moment, the priestess took a pause, and then she spoke in the humans' language again;
"Now, it is time for me to speak of why I have summoned you all here. On last night's moon, the stars granted me a vision--however, it is not a vision of great good, but one of great evil."
The crowd murmured, but then quickly hushed again as she continued:
"As you all know, the human world is seething in war, with many battles across Wika and Brenne Shal deciding each other's strength. Although I do not have a proper say in this war, I can tell you now that the forbidden land they are fighting over, the Demon world of Lia Manien, is a curious piece in a much larger puzzle. Whether one side wins or fails, or if they both end up destroying each other, this world's troubles will be far from over, for my vision has told me of a much greater power than both the kingdoms of the continents. It is a power of which I do not yet understand, but somehow, I do not even wish to understand it. But I did understand this; this new power arising from the shadows is quickly approaching. If something is not done, this country, as well as Brenne Shal, shall be swept away against evil's rushing current..."
Skye immediately knew; she spoke of the cult that Zero, the legendary Dragon Hunter, had warned them about. He also assumed that the priestess was keeping their story in mind during her telling of her strange vision. He listened again as she concluded:
"So, my dear friends, as children of the forest and the water and the wind, I believe that it is our duty, as well as our purpose, that we protect ourselves as well as much of this world as we can from this oncoming evil, whatever it may be. It may not come anytime soon, but we must prepare ourselves. Now as you go, keep these words in your hearts, minds, and souls; Tre'anuil, fuil, rochesta liat'aruin an se'uil."
"Kobi," Skye asked, "What did she say?"
"She said, 'Souls as one, dawn breaks through the dark.'"
They all could only hope.
----------------------------------------------
Another day had quickly passed by, but not without more discoveries and exploration for the humans. During the afternoon, Kobi had assigned for Skye and Deacon to go mushroom picking.
"You guys are going to stay at MY place tonight!" Pronounced the elfin boy excitedly, clapping his hands together. "And we're having my favorite dish—Boulder-Mushroom Stew!"
"'Boulder Mushroom Stew'?" Deacon raised an eyebrow. "What the hell kind of dinner is that?"
"It's made from boulder-mushrooms, carrots, potatoes, and a broth made from special herbs."
"That sounds yummy!" Sarah said, already smacking her lips.
"Blech!!" Skye and Deacon exclaimed simultaneously
"What's wrong?" Kobi looked as if he had never seen that kind of reaction before.
"Where's the fish?!" Skye yelled.
"And the steak and the sausage?!" Deacon glared at Kobi. "What kind of dinner goes without any meat in it?!"
Sarah then wound up her arm for the pitch; and WHAM, right up Deacon's jaw.
"An ELFIN dinner, that's what! Haven't you guys learned anything while we've been here? Most of the time, except in dire times when they would NEED to hunt, elves are VEGETARIANS. They are restricted to eating only fruit, vegetables, and dairy!"
"Well, we aren't restricted, it's just something we have chosen to do as a people..."
But Sarah went on, waving her arms around:
"And plus, with all the food you've already eaten today, you guys could probably use a light dinner! You could at least show some respect by not eating their whole supply! Sheesh!"
Before Skye and Deacon could even head out the door, the blonde yelled at them as if they had already protested, saying, "And no complaining! Go out there and get those boulder mushrooms! You guys aren't even doing the cooking, so you should be grateful Kobi gave you guys an easy chore! So get going!"
With one last peeved look back at Sarah, Skye and Deacon headed out in search of the mushrooms.
"Damn...she's scary," Skye muttered.
"I think it was a bad idea to take her along with us. She's so in love with this place, we'll never make it to the capital."
They came to a small clearing, and the side of a cliff.
"You think there are any mushrooms up there?"
Deacon gave Skye a glaring look.
"No Skye, we're not going up there."
"But--"
"NO."
The boy pouted. Deacon ignored him, and he started to turn back the other way.
"Besides, there are probably tons of those mushroom-boulder-thingies over by the lake. Now let's go--"
But Skye was already climbing up the cliff, like a spider scurrying up to it's webbed nest.
"ARRRRGH!! Dammit, dumbass! You never listen to me, nothing-for-brains! Don't whine at me if you fall from up there!!"
"I won't..." Skye was already at the top. He heard Deacon cursing from down below, and he snickered.
"Now, where are those mushrooms...?"
There was more growth up on top, with several bushes, and a few smaller trees. But to Skye's slight frustration, there weren't any mushrooms to be found.
"Aw man! I was sure that there would be some up here! Now I have to go all the way back down and--"
Suddenly, there was a movement, a shadow quickly whisking by behind him.
"H-huh?! Who's there?!"
He whipped around, but there was nothing there. He scanned around, but there was no trace of anyone, or anything, that could have been there.
"I...could've sworn...but, there's nobody here..."
Just to be sure of himself, he walked around in an inconspicuous fashion, still scanning the trees.
"Now, where are those mushrooms...?"
Then a breeze from behind ruffled up his clothes. He turned around, once again to find that there was nothing there.
"I...I guess it's a bit windy today. Yeah, that's it...Anyway, I should probably go back down to Deacon...he's probably still pissed at me..."
He walked back over to the side from which he had climbed up, but oddly enough, he still couldn't shake the feeling, the cold chill that ran down his spine as that breeze had quietly whipped behind him.
-------------------------------------------
"Mmmm! That was the best soup I ever had, really!"
"You're just saying that to be nice, Sarah! It wasn't THAT good..."
"Skye, where are your damn manners! It WAS good, and you know it. You're just whining 'cause you only got one mango."
"But that was dessert! It's not fair that I only got ONE!"
Kobi laughed aloud at the humans, delighted.
"Humans are so silly! At least now I know that next time, I'll be getting more fruit for dessert! Then nobody will be complaining. Ha ha!"
Then the elfin boy turned to Ellora, who, as always, had remained quiet.
"Did you like the stew?"
She shyly nodded, with a warm smile.
"I thought you would! After all, you are the chosen one, and you're a kind being."
Everyone suddenly quieted down.
"Wh-what did you say about Ellora? The chosen one?" Sarah asked.
"Ah," Kobi replied, "I guess no one has told you, yet. Everyone I know has been saying things about this girl." He smiled kindly at Ellora, who simply looked back at him, once again returning the smile. "Nice things, of course, but they've also been curious if she's the one..."
Skye turned to look at Ellora. He tried to hold it back, but couldn't help but blush as he remembered her angelic wings, and the most wonderful smile he had ever seen. But he turned to look at Kobi again, and hid his blush with a wide-eyed wondering expression, asking:
"Can you tell us about it?"
Kobi took a clay pitcher that was set in the middle of the room, on a tiny oak-made table, set with the now eaten meal and dishes. He poured some of the crystal clear water into his cup; after sipping it, he began:
"There is a story among my people that tells of a young one who lived long ago, in a time after strife, but with coming evil that would soon spread throughout the world. No one really knows much about the young one, but it is said that, in order to prevent this evil, and a great calamity that was about to befall and consume the world, the young one had called upon the power of the very heavens to stop it. In the midst of the battlefield against the evil, and the chaos all around, the young one had leapt up to a great height, towards the sky above that was covered and dense with storm clouds. A flashing spear-like bolt came down on the young one, piercing their heart; and at that moment, it is said that everything, all at once, ceased. The fighting stopped, and the clouds dispersed. Everything came to a standstill, and everyone had suddenly forgotten what the fighting was for. The evil was no longer spreading, and although everything around them was destroyed, to everyone's amazement, nobody had died during the fighting, or from the storms and quakes that had been going on. A pale light where the clouds had parted was resting on the young one, whose body was pinned to the ground beside a single tree that was left standing. The spear was shaped like a certain symbol of the good people's faith that they had worshipped, and the people said that it was the sign of a miracle.
"Some of the elves in my tribe say that this part is all a myth, and the whole story in general is just a myth, but it is also said that once the young one's soul had peacefully departed, they became what we call one of the winged beings--something that most humans would call 'holy.' And one day, catastrophe will come to this world again, and this being will appear again to save us again.
"But this is all just a story, really. When some of my friends' eyes had fallen on Ellora here, she had somehow given them the feeling that the story was true."
"I wouldn't blame them," said Deacon. "Everything's such a mess right now, I wouldn't be surprised if something like that happened again."
"Wow..." Sarah gazed at Ellora in disbelief. "You guys said that you found her--maybe it's true! She could be the one!"
Unexpectedly, Ellora spoke up:
"I don't remember anything about my past, but I don't think that any of this could actually be true. I don't think that I would be the one to save the world, if something like that happens..."
Skye knew that she was feeling something completely the opposite of what she was saying. He himself believed that this could be a vital clue to her past, and exactly how she was the key to the forbidden land; Lia Manien.
Kobi shrugged, shaking his head. "Well, whatever the story means to you, we don't really know much. But I've noticed something else, among your group..."
Kobi turned to look at Skye.
"Yes?" Said Skye, puzzled.
"Your hair. For some reason, I get the feeling that's a sign of some sort...I've never seen any human like you before. I know it sounds odd, but those daggers that you were carrying with you are not of this world, I'm sure of that."
The elfin boy shrugged again, laughing. "Am I crazy, or what? I guess that's what you get for being in tune with the earth, and the spirit world...eventually, you go insane."
Skye lowered his eyes; the others' were now staring at him.
"You know, I've noticed that, too," Sarah commented. "I didn't think that people could grow blue hair. It IS kind of strange."
Deacon looked at Skye straight in the eye, as if to say, "They're trustworthy. Go ahead."
Skye spoke up:
"W-well, you see--"
He was interrupted, as they all suddenly heard screams coming from outside.
"What's going on?" Said Deacon.
Seconds later a tall elfin warrior burst through Kobi's front door, panting. He had splashes of blood on his clothes, and his hair looked like it had been singed.
"Kobi!! We have to leave this place!! Everything's—"
"What is it?!" Kobi said, his brows furrowed in worry.
"It's all in flames!! We are under attack!!"
-----------------------------------------------------------
Everyone rushed out the door, hoping that it was just a joke. But the elf warrior wasn't lying, to their dismay.
Flames, nothing but orange and red heat, flickering with sparks spewing out, quickly spreading. There were strange soldiers in hulking gray armor, effortlessly slaying elf after elf. What elfin forces that were left had stayed behind from evacuating to distract the enemy, but not even their swift feet could outrun the gray-armored men, and with a few strides and a swing of a sword, the elfin warriors of Wika fell. These soldiers had no mercy even for the women or children of the forest; whoever wasn't able to escape was either consumed by the flames, or struck down.
Sarah yelled at Kobi through the screams and crackling of the fire, "We need our weapons to fight these guys!! Where are they?!"
"The temple! You all had to leave your things there--"
Skye had already taken off, a blue lightning bolt streaking through. He barely avoided the sword strikes of the enemies, trying to leap over pillars of raging flame. Up the sacred path he went, so fast that his feet were almost off of the ground entirely. He raced to the temple entrance, which was being licked by the fire, crawling up the once bright blossoms and vines, disintegrating the outside walls. Knowing he didn't have much time before the whole place collapsed, we went inside. Luckily, he found everyone's weapons resting on the leafy floor; he picked them up, and then, realizing that the priestess may still be inside, he called out;
"Priestess!! Where are you?!"
There was a faint moan, and he followed the sound, and ended up in front of Shakayla, who was sitting upright, clutching her chest. Tirius lay dead beside her, stab wounds through his chest. Shakayla, teary-eyed, looked up at Skye. She composed herself quickly, and said weakly, "The priestess is safe. She used all of her strength to teleport to a safer place, so there is no need to worry for her! You must go and get back to your comrades!"
"What about you?! I can't just--"
"Go, now! You and your friends are this world's only hope against this evil! Go before the flames consume you too!!"
A chunk of the roof then fell, and Skye had to leap back to avoid it. Shakayla was now blocked out of the boy's reach. He reluctantly turned to go, and he went more quickly than ever.
He managed to make it back, and saw that Sarah and Deacon had already begun to fight. Sarah was a ways off, battling with a thick branch of burning wood. She was managing, but she wouldn't last long without something to defend herself with.
"SARAH!!!" Skye yelled, taking her broadsword in its sheath and hurling it over to her. Luckily she caught it; and as soon as she did, she ripped out the blade and defended an oncoming blow, just in time.
"I've gotta find Deac!" Skye told himself. Carrying Deacon's axe on his back, he zipped around the area, using his own daggers to slice and slash at the enemies as he rushed past them. Eventually, he could see Deacon through a wall of flames, on the ground. He was gripping his shoulder, which had a deep gash, blood gushing from the wound.
"DEAC!!"
Deacon immediately noticed Skye, and got up, pretending to face the solider again. The armored knight raised his blade, attempting to thrust at Deacon's chest. But the former bandit deftly dodged the attack, and started running towards Skye.
"Hey! Where've you been?!"
Deacon ran past Skye, grabbing his battleaxe and taking position behind him. The blue-haired boy rushed at the enemy soldier, who was chasing after, and charged right at him. The soldier, with a strained grunt of effort, raised his blade in defense, trying to block Skye's fast slashes. But Skye's attack was merely a diversion; Deacon suddenly leapt up behind the soldier, bringing down the heavy axe on his head. Regardless of the helmet the soldier was wearing, his head was cleanly cleaved in two, and with a spurt of blood gurgling from his exposed brains, he fell, his body crumpled and twitching.
Deacon, panting, suddenly dropped his axe and clutched his bleeding shoulder.
"S-Skye, nice job there. But you should go back to Ellora and Kobi, they need your help..."
"I don't wanna leave you here, Deac!"
"You idiot! I can still fight! I just need a little break. Go!!"
The boy nodded, and then dashed off to find Kobi and Ellora. He ran back to Kobi's now burnt to the ground home, ashes still ablaze, and found both of them safe, with none of the strange enemies trying to attack. Ellora had collapsed from the intense heat, and Kobi had a longbow in his hands, his quiver left with only one arrow.
"Skye! We don't have much time left! Even if we stop all of these guys, we won't have time to get out of here! Where's Deacon and Sarah?!"
"They're coming! But are the rest of the people safe--"
Another scream almost made Skye jump, for it came from nearly right behind him. He whirled around.
"...What...?"
Behind him were the mysterious cloaked men, only two of them, and had left their hoods off. One of them, surprisingly, was a woman, who was cackling wickedly. The other was a tall, tanned figure, with dark eyes, blankly staring, and to Skye, somehow sad. Just who were these people? They were probably behind all of this, watching everything from a distance. He was afraid to move, in fear that they might spot him. Though the heat was scorching, he suddenly felt that same shiver down his back, the same feeling that he had felt earlier that day. Why here? Why now?
Then, the man and the woman turned around to face yet another who was with them. A dark shadow stepped out from behind the flames; Skye saw the faint glimmer of a blade--
"Hehheheheheheh....AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Skye could see the man's long, azure blue hair, glowing in the bloodshed, the sparks of the fires swirling about. The reason for his maniacal laughter became apparent, as a dark blade soaked with blood, adorned with the head of an elfin warrior, was raised to his face; gaunt, pale, now out of the veil of flames, twisted, crimson eyes of insanity wide and twitching, a grin, delighted in the carnage, the screams and the horror.
There was no mistaking it. This was the man Skye had been searching for, the one who had destroyed so much, the leader of an evil still unknown, threatening:
Akino.

gray

2008-08-23T06:14:15Z

Fog crept out this morning

drops--sweet dew

The only hue to
paint the day
was gray

2008-08-06T00:28:05Z

VIII:

The hall was scarcely lit. Purple wax dripped onto a lavish carpet, which Shadow strode lightly upon. He had been called some time ago, but due to problems caused by the annoying actions of petty followers under his command, compliance to his master's summoning came late. So he picked up his pace, and quickly walked down the darkening hall towards his master's room.
Shadow approached the tall double-doors, and gave a quick knock. "I have come," he said in his richly deep tone through the solid wood and metal.
A calm, somewhat quieted voice answered;
"Come in, my friend..."
The doors automatically drew open, and Shadow stepped in. His master beckoned him to come closer, and motioned for him to draw back his hood. He did so, though he was cloaked in black, still making his features difficult to see.
"You summoned me, master?" Shadow said, kneeling before him. The man he bowed to was also covered, but in the dark shadows cast about him. Only the dimmed sheen of his silver plate mail could be seen, along with his slender, black-gloved hands gesturing as he spoke;
"I have, I have! Ah, yes, there are so many of my followers who only wish to get a glimpse of me...but you, Shadow, my loyal friend, are the only one who is to see me on this day..."
Shadow's master rarely made public appearances. There were trustworthy followers of his sect, and then there were the spies. The ever-growing number of spies made him weary, and his trust in his own followers was slowly diminishing. Still, there were a select few that were allowed to remain in his physical presence.
Shadow further lowered his head in gracious respect for his master. The man seated in his overshadowed throne leaned forward, far enough to touch the face of his most faithful servant.
"There is no need for you, dear, to bow to me...now, raise your eyes to mine, for I have something important I must tell you..."
Shadow raised his head, and kissed his master's frail, gloved hand as he laid back into his seat.
The cool voice proceeded to explain:
"I need you to find our, shall I say, 'escapees', or at least, two of them. They somehow managed to break out of one of the bases I have set in Northwestern Wika. Find them, and do whatever it takes to bring them back to me..."
Shadow stood, and although he understood his task he questioned, "Who will stay with you while I am away?" He added, "And how is the excavation going?"
"I will have Rochelle stay by my side in place of you, as well as Galila, for she is to go with you also."
Shadow retained his neutral demeanor, but in his mind winced at the thought of taking that blood-obsessed, deceitful, lustful woman, Galila. After that thought, he listened as his master continued:
"As for the excavation...my workers obtain new relics every day, but what I am truly seeking never seems to show...but it's no matter, for once I have the angel, I may not need the relic..."
His master's voice was growing more faint as he spoke, and he could clearly see his fingers shaking.
"Are you well, master?" Shadow asked anxiously. His master replied, even more softly::
"...Since the last time I went out...I have been feeling weak..." But raising his voice he continued, "That will soon change, oh, yes! So very, very soon...I have said too much already. Now go, hurry, and find whom I am searching for! Begone, my dear!"
Shadow heeded his master's words, and after drawing his cloak closer to his body, he strode out the door at a hastened pace.
Just outside, he encountered his assigned partner, Galila. She greeted him in her smooth tone, her womanly figure striding up to him;
"How was master Akino? Is he still sick? Oh, that would be so terrible--"
Shadow interrupted angrily, "How dare you utter his name aloud?! No one, especially a lowly wench like you, has the right to speak it!"
"Well well, someone's in a bad mood." She wasn't upset by his anger, and seeing that, Shadow forced himself to remain calm; yelling was not going to make her go away.
"Sorry, Galila," he said, trying to sound genuine. "I'm merely upset--our master has yet to regain his strength. He weakens by the hour, and there's nothing we can do..."
"But Shadow, isn't that why he's sending us on this mission? If we find the brats that escaped on Wika, he'll have his power returned. Either that, or we'll finally get lucky and find that artifact..."
As they conversed, Galila and Shadow walked back down the hall, and started a descent to the next floor. After a short pause Shadow said to her, slightly disgusted, "What is that you're wearing? You look like a whore. Hardly fit for battle."
"Well I never! You are so rude--can't a beautiful lady dress up a little? And you know perfectly well that there's nothing that could possibly even touch me, anyway. Don't you ever have anything better to say to me?"
A daylight sun shone in through an oversized window, wide open with a small balcony. Galila followed Shadow into the light, waiting for an answer. After adjusting his cloak, revealing his bare back, his wings unfurled and stretched out wide. Galila stretched her smaller, bat-like wings as well, and scowled as her partner gave his answer.
"I'm afraid that's all I can say to someone like you."
And with powerful flaps that kicked up dust and rattled closed windows, he flew off, Galila gliding up after him.
-----------------------------------------------------
Skye yawned as the group walked across green fields. Green fields. And more green fields.
"Are we there yet?" He asked impatiently.
"And for the fiftieth time, NO," replied Deacon, swiping his hand across the boy's head and ruffling his hair.
Sarah and Ellora trailed behind; the afternoon heat made it difficult to move around easily.
"You guys could wait up for us, you know?!" The blonde girl shouted angrily. The boys halted in their tracks, and stood as if an eternity was passing by them
"Well, c'mon!" Deacon yelled. "We're waiting--"
Suddenly, Sarah shushed him loudly, saying, "You guys! Come over here, quick!"
The boys rushed up to her, and everyone crouched down in the tall grass.
"Do you see what I see?"
"No...what?"
"Just look! Right up ahead of us!"
They fixed their stares on a spot where they had passed a boulder earlier. And then, clearly, they could see something peculiar.
"Woah! Is that what I think it is?" Skye whispered.
"Yep, there's only one thing that could be--that's an elf right over there!"
The elf, a boy who didn't look anywhere past twelve or thirteen, was picking mushrooms that had grown on the mossy boulder. He was carefully plucking them off, one by one, and placing them in a small satchel that hung around his waist. The youthful lad had hair the color of the very grass he walked upon, and decorated clothes, his long-sleeved tunic being the most detailed. But what stood out most were the small, pointed ears poking out from the hair tufts on the sides of his head.
"We must be close to the village then," said Deacon. "Do you think he would help us get there?"
Skye wasn't nearly as worried.
"Yeah! Of course he would! Let's go say hi!"
They all stood, and casually walked through the tall stalks of green toward the elf. However, they had barely shuffled over a few steps when the young elf's ears pricked up. The lad turned his head, seeing the strangers that were walking up to him. Skye saw the somewhat alarmed look on the elf's face, and he attempted a fair greeting:
"Hello, elfin creature of this...this land here! We come...We come in peace!"
The boy seemed frightened; the group took one step closer, and then he suddenly bounded off.
"H-hey!! Wher're you goin'?!"
"Dumbass! You scared him away!!"
"Shut up you two! We can still follow him--let's go!"
They all ran after the little elf, Skye slowing down in order to let his companions keep up with him. Unfortunately, only one of them was still falling behind. Ellora struggled, and then with a yelp she tripped on her own foot, falling face-forward.
"Ellora! Are you okay?!"
Skye turned back, zipping up to her side. She had gotten back up, but her left ankle was now swollen.
"You must've twisted it...here, I'll carry you."
Skye hoisted her, letting her climb onto his back, much the same way she did when he first found her. Sarah and Deacon's cries of "Hurry up, we're losing him" were ignored; Skye easily caught up with them. As they ran, he grabbed their arms and exclaimed, "Hold on!!"
Skye was nothing but a blur as he carried his partners, chasing after the swift-footed elfin being. In moments they entered a thicket of trees; the beginning signs that they were getting close to their destination.
The elf boy, who constantly looked behind to see if the strange pursuers were still after him, made the mistake of stumbling over a gnarled tree root. Mushrooms and plants were flung to the air, and the boy was covered in dirt, but he knew there was no time to worry about those things. He still had to get away!
Only, by the time he had gotten back up, the blue-haired stranger and his companions had caught up to him. He was surrounded, nowhere to run.
"Now, as I was SAYING before you ran off," Skye said, as if he had only taken a short break and was now continuing the conversation, "We come in peace, and all we want to know is how to get to your village. We need shelter for a while--we heard that your people may be able to help us."
The elf was silent, but he looked curiously at the humans that surrounded him He was not quite convinced; but when his eyes reached Ellora, a sense of calmness came over him, and his rapid, panicked heartbeats slowed.
Then the elfin boy spoke:
"I-I'm K-Kobiyashi, of the Wikan Clan of elves. I believe your words, stranger...I'll take you further into the sacred wood of my people."
Everyone sighed in relief, and began to follow the young Kobiyashi as he kindly led them forward through the tree-lined path.
----------------------------------------------
As they went deeper into the forest, it was clear why the elves had chosen to be separate from the humans' corrupted, greedy, war-torn way of life. The outside world could no longer be seen, save the warm sunlight that drifted in through the leaves of the silver-tinted trees. A quiet whisper of wind blew, but nothing was disturbed. Several times Skye had spotted animals, some rarely seen anywhere else; a long-legged creature with black eyes, earth-colored fur, and twisted horns jutting from the sides of its head had been feeding on tender green stalks, and several small, plump, yellow-colored birds sang their sweet song from their branched perches. The group also could not help but admire the tiny, elegant bugs that fluttered about, their wings spotted with such bright colors they painted a rainbow wherever they flew. They passed a small lake, the only place where the treetops had parted. The water sparkled with every ripple, and more strange creatures were gathered to gulp down and bathe in it.
The elfin boy was quite surprised at the amazed reactions of these people; was the human world really depraved of scenes like these? It did not matter at the moment, however, for he somehow wanted the humans to enjoy the world of the elves, to enjoy the beauty that he saw every day, and that they saw so little of.
The sun, a golden disc, was soon setting, and the elf, Kobi, said, "We're almost there. Soon, you'll all be able to meet the high priestess of my people's village."
"High priestess?" Said Deacon, "I thought you elf-people would have a king or queen, or something like that."
"Well, you see..." said Kobi meekly. Despite his shyness he seemed a little less nervous around the traveling humans as he spoke to them;
"My people, not just in Wika, but in the continent across the ocean, Brenne Shal, both believe in a higher being, one who keeps peace and order throughout the universe. And that being is the one who created our true elfin queen, the one who watches and guides my people, and creates harmony in the sacred wood. But no one knows of her true form, or to put it simply, what she looks like. No one has ever seen her, or even knows where she resides in this world. But she's what you would call our 'Queen', but not as a ruler, but as our guardian."
After finishing his explanation he exclaimed happily as he looked on ahead, "Ah! We're here! C'mon, let's go--everyone will welcome you gladly!"
And he scampered on ahead, excited as can be. As the group of humans caught up, Sarah giggled and said, "He was talking so seriously earlier, but he's still an eager little kid!"
"Well," Skye murmured, "When you have a home to go to, it's natural to be this happy."
But Deacon and Sarah had already gone ahead, shouting for the elfin boy to wait for them. Skye turned to Ellora, who had been silent as always, and she blushed, a little smile briefly playing across her lips
"Let's go and catch up, Ellora."
They jogged up to Sarah and Deacon's position, and were completely in awe at the new sight that beheld them.
. It was as if they were in a city, a city made of trees older than the earth that they were rooted in. They towered over all, their wonderful, smooth trunks colossal. The branches seemed to curl in a nest-like shape that protected and held up many, many elfin homes. Most of these houses were embedded in the trees themselves, some made of the greens and leaves of the treetops, held together with wood and mud; others were made of tougher, durable materials, such as smooth, polished bone, with hand-woven silk curtains that draped down, serving as a front door. The most noticeable detail about the homes of the elves, were the autumn colors that they were painted with. Bronze-gold, a haze of violet purple, bright and yet deep shades of crimson red, and even a blended hazel-chestnut brown concealed the homes amongst the tones of the trees' trunks.
But that was not all that caught their already captured attention; the greenery that grew here was more plentiful than anywhere else they had ever been to. Plants, herbs, and flowers sprouted from every corner, and seemed to have resistance, for Skye accidentally treaded on a few, but they just sprung back up as soon as he lifted his foot.
"Oops...sorry..."
"That's alright, it happens to me all the time," said Kobi, smiling. "Oh, look!"
Skye, Sarah, Deacon, and a timid Ellora stood in disbelief as many ears and faces began to poke out from their hiding places.
"They're probably a bit scared," Kobi explained, "But we can pass through safely...they just need the consent of our priestess before they can trust you."
Skye hoped that he was right. He and his friends certainly didn't need any more enemies out to get them.
Kobi led them further into the city, taking them through a path that seemed to grow greater as they went. The other elves had gone back into hiding, but the group could still somehow feel their eyes gazing at them. After passing through more of the forest, they came to a winding staircase of roots, spiraling up into a thick canopy of leaves above.
"Our temple is up there," said Kobi.
Suddenly, Sarah protested;
"No way! How's a bunch of roots supposed to help us get up there! We're gonna fall!"
The elfin boy laughed, his eyes twinkling in delight. "Don't worry! I swear, upon all of my tribe, that you won't fall! Now come with me!"
And so they started the long ascension into the upper area of this elfin kingdom. It puzzled the humans at first, for the rooted stairs led up into the trees, which seemed like a dead end. But as they continued upward, more of Kobi's people could be seen; some crouched quickly under the brush, while others stayed where they were and looked on at the humans that walked up the sacred path. As soon as they reached the seemingly impassable thicket of branches, it became clear that there was still a way through; the branches formed a hole, letting the group go through.
And it was after they went through that they found the temple. A structure built only with flowers, the hundreds of colors were just as dazzling to their eyes as exploding fireworks. The temple was supported by more branches, twisted vines, and of course, the blossoms. It displayed the majesty and wonder that was the nature of the elves, something that could never normally be seen by outsiders, by mere human eyes. And yet, there they were; a group of young humans, staring in wonderment.
The group approached the entrance and was greeted by a pair of guards, one male and one female. The female wore circlets of roses, her clothes made of deerskin, and she held a long spear at her side. The male had armor and shoulder-guards crafted out of animal bone, reflecting the trickles of sunlight that leaked through the branches above. He too held a spear, and he raised it in caution as the group came close.
"What are you doing here with those humans, Kobiyashi?" Asked the male guard. "Why do you approach this sacred place where our priestess sleeps?"
"Yes," said the female, "She is not to be bothered until moonrise."
"But it's important that we see her," Kobi insisted. "These people need her consent to be accepted by us, so that they may stay in our land."
The guards looked warily at Skye, then Deacon, and then Sarah. Sarah waved and smiled, Deacon nodded, Ellora cast her head down, and Skye happily grinned. The male guard spoke again:
"These humans want to...stay with us?"
"Yes, but they promised only for a short time. They mean no harm, Tirius!"
Tirius once again glanced at Skye's group, whose forced smiles and friendly gestures were almost silly to witness. He leaned over to his partner, whispered something, and then said;
"Shakayla and I will let them pass--if they hand over their weapons."
So Kobi told them to go forward and leave their weapons by the entrance, though Skye gave up his daggers quite reluctantly.
"Please, take care of those," he said to the guards. "They're really important to me."
Tirius paused before answering. "You have my word."
And so they all stepped in behind the curtain of petals, hoping to meet the priestess inside.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IX:

The light, pleasant fragrance of flowers was present inside of the temple, and coupled with a cool evening breeze, the group's senses were enlightened even more. Rainbow lights showered over them, the light from outside passing through each flower petal as delicately as the tree leaves. There was no sign of a presence, not until a woman's voice greeted them;
"Welcome to our realm, humans. I see that one of our own has brought you all here."
Kobi then said nervously, "H-hello holy p-priestess--yes, I've come with these humans. Th-they need to speak to you to ask of your consent.."
And it was as if she had been a flower herself in disguise, for the priestess suddenly emerged from a curtain of the blossoms that were strung down from the ceiling to the floor. The priestess, upon first sight, was lovely; her hair was the color of the sun, as well as the colors of the many blossoms, and she was tall and slender. Her eyes seemed to laugh as a warm smile spread across her lips, and she said to them, "It has been countless suns and moons since our clan has had visitors from the outside. I humbly welcome you to this sacred wood, and ask that you please tell me your story."
She beckoned them all to come nearer, and as they stepped forward, a bed of flowers suddenly sprung forth.
"Woah," Deacon exclaimed. "How'd you do that?"
The priestess giggled, childlike "I have the power to heal plants, and spread new life when I can. However, it drains my energy, so I don't use my abilities very often. Mostly, I am just a guide for this village, in place of our elfin queen, whom we all love dearly."
"But...we aren't going to sit in them, are we?"
"Why not? Look closely."
She sat straight down on the bed of blossoms, and then stood right back up. None of the flowers were crushed, as Skye had noticed before when entering the village with Kobi. So they all sat in a circle; Sarah, cross-legged, was immediately fascinated, and stroked and slightly squished the petals between her fingertips, still amazed at how no matter what was done to the plants, they came out unharmed. Kobi eagerly sat next to the priestess, for even though the humans seemed friendly, he still preferred the company of his own kind. Deacon relaxed, and lying on his side he enjoyed the sweet flowery perfume (and the beauty of the elfin priestess.) Ellora looked more comfortable than she ever had been since her rescue; she sat in a relaxed posture, her eyes still curiously wandering over to her surroundings.
And so Skye began to tell of their situation. Who they were looking for, how they all had been captured and thrown into dungeon cells, the wizard who tried to catch them as they escaped, the legendary Dragon Hunter and his warning about the mysterious cult-like group and their leader, as much as could be told.
After some time had passed, Skye finished:
"And that's how we ended up here. Sorry I didn't get all of the details straight--"
"You got that right, numbskull! You were all over the place!"
"Hey! At least I talked--you didn't even try to say anything!"
"Why say anything when someone's already talking for you?"
Skye jumped up to tackle Deacon, and Sarah came between them.
"Ugh, you BOTH are idiots! We are in the presence of a race of people that hasn't been seen since the war started, a holy race of people, a PRIESTESS, and you guys decide to start a fight right in front of her! Show some manners!"
Skye plopped back down, and Deacon smirked. Skye turned away from him to see Ellora giggling slightly. The priestess laughed, her voice like bell chimes:
"Please, there is no need to be stiff and polite in my presence--Shakayla and Tirius, my protectors outside, have had many petty quarrels like yours. Now, after hearing all of this, I will agree to let you travelers stay."
Everyone's attention was focused again, and Sarah said, "You really mean it?"
"Of course," the priestess replied. "I could not force you to go while you are all in danger. It is against my nature. Kobi will show you all a place to rest--you look weary. The elves shall welcome you with open arms, as will our food and shelter comfort you."
They stood, graciously bowing down. The smiling priestess led them back outside, where Shakayla and Tirius still stood guarding. It was now nightfall, and the last rays of the sun had settled far behind their view. Skye asked the two guardians if it was possible to get their weapons back, but Tirius's reply wasn't favorable.
"Why do you need them back now, when you are all in a perfectly safe place? They shall be given back to you as soon as you depart from the forest."
Skye grumbled about not getting his daggers back, but was cheered up when an elf suddenly came running to them. The fellow greeted the priestess and said to her, "My priestess, there are rumors that there are humans here, and that they have spoken with you! Is it true?"
"Yes," she replied, gesturing towards Skye and his companions. "They are harmless, and only wish to stay with us awhile. The human affairs in the outside world have sent them here specifically, for now, and they have my consent to remain as long as they need to. So please, tell the others not to shun them, but to welcome these travelers with food and a place to rest."
Disbelieving, the elf scanned his eyes over the humans. Sarah waved, and the boys attempted to gain his attention ("We still come in peace--" "Dammit, what makes you think that'll work this time, dumbass?!" "Will you two just shut up?!")
Kobi stepped forward, saying, "They aren't anything like the humans that we assumed that they were. But really, they're friendly."
The elf nodded, and without a word he shot off, stopping many times along the way to inform the other elves. The elfin priestess laughingly asked for the humans to follow Kobi back down the rooted stair into the main village. Everyone excitedly sprinted after the elfin boy as he took off; the priestess sighed, with another giggle escaping her lips as she stepped back into the temple of blossoms.
----------------------------------------
"GIMMIE SOME OF THAT!!!"
"DAMN YOU BLUE BOY!!! THAT'S MY MUSHROOM!!!"
"Argh! Don't YOU ever get tired of this, Ellora?"
The shy girl shook her head. Skye and Deacon's antics seemed to delight her more than annoy her. Nevertheless, they all enjoyed the merry meal shared with some of the other elves. They sat on the ground like before; only, instead of a bed of flowers, fresh, springy grass kept them comfortable. The atmosphere was simple, quiet, and yet exotic at the same time, for the elves knew how to create, and their cleverly made and decorated homes were one of the many examples that reflected their lifestyle. The food was simple, but so well prepared that it was like tasting samples of a feast grander than a king's finest dishes. The elves themselves were grand in their own way, highly educated in the ways of the world and wise beyond human, mortal years. The tales told of days long past, times where living things co-existed in harmony, as well as the beginning strife that led to the current war, made it seem as if they had all been there themselves, as if visions had come to them. As the night went on, the elves' speech grew more mystifying, and even more elegant. After a while, Skye realized that was because the elves had transitioned from his language to theirs; what he was hearing was elfin speech.
"Hey, guys, are you hearing this? Man, this is so cool--"
But they had fallen asleep next to the dimming embers of what was a fire (elfin culture forbid the use of fire outdoors, but due to the rare occasion, setting up a small campfire was permitted.) Sarah lied on her side, curled up on the soft, velvety grass. Deacon was turned over, snoring and muttering in his sleep ("Elf beer...tasty…good...") Kobi had been asleep for a while, and he was rolled on his back next to Sarah, a boyish smile upon his sleeping face.
But Skye noticed one person missing.
"Hey," he said to one of the elves, one whom he had gotten to know a little. "Do you know where Ellora went?"
"The frail beauty that hardly speaks? I believe I saw her head towards the lake. You and your friends passed by it when you came here."
"Alright, thanks." The blue-haired boy got up and tip toed past his sleeping friends until he was outside of the village. He could hear night creatures scurrying about, their glowing, curious eyes hunting for smaller night creatures for their late supper; an owl briefly swooped down to snatch his meal, a lone rodent who was unable to burrow down into his cozy little home in time to escape.
Skye was not totally unaccustomed to roaming around in the dark. He would go exploring at all times of the day, especially places that he had never been to. His sight was impaired by the darkness, but only for some moments, as moonlight from the thin crescent shape in the sky streamed in through the trees, much like the sun did during daylight hours. The night sounds were peaceful, a delight to Skye's nature-loving soul.
Everything was so serene; the song drifting through the forest seemed to fit the scene perfectly.
"Wait...what's that?"
A gentle melody, sung by a mystically sweet voice, gradually grew louder as Skye came closer to the lake. Eventually he could see the waters, rippling in the oval-shaped lake bowl.
He treaded lightly, taking care not to snap a single twig. Who is that singing? He wondered. The curious boy crept up close, and hid himself behind a wide trunk. He leaned over slightly, peeking out.
"Ah...!"
White wings, shimmering, spread, and folded back to reveal--
"E-Ellora...?
She sang, naked, bathing in the glimmering lake. In Skye's eyes she outshone everything, in a comforting way. Her light was unlike any other he had ever seen before, that ethereal glow. She knelt down to cup water in her hands, and slowly raising them, she let the pure liquid wash over her face. She continued to sing ever so sweetly, gently.
Just like an angel.
Angel? Skye thought, unable to tear his guilty eyes away. Can she really be...?
Ellora began to step out of the lake, now finished bathing. Skye moved quietly towards another tree, trying not to get caught. He still stared as she slipped on a simple, thin, white dress, an item she had found aboard the Pluto. Her long, sunset locks draped down heavily; with her fingers she parted her bangs. Her wide, fair wings folded into her back, until they had completely vanished from sight. Cautiously she looked about, as if she had sensed someone was watching.
Skye wondered if he had been noticed, but to his relief, she merely sighed and sank into the grass, her head rested on a small patch of daisies that just happened to be growing there. In a moment, her faint, soft breaths told the boy that she was already deeply asleep.
Skye came out of his hiding spot, still crouched low, inching his way towards her. He stopped ten feet from her, and then insisted to himself that he should stay out here with her (even though the whole forest was perfectly safe.) So, after affirming himself, he curled up on the ground, still in fascination with just one question; Who was this strange beauty that lay so close to him now?
-----------------------------------

Game

2008-08-04T17:57:41Z

In the Game of Fame
the frail of mind
cling to their
shining knight; status

'S been a while; Chapter 6 & 7

2008-07-24T20:42:57Z

VI:

Soft grass was pressed under Skye's body as he lay under the afternoon sun. He could still feel the sea serpent's oozy blood on his hands, hot and sticky. He opened his eyes to find Deacon and the girl nearby. Deacon, in particular, looked dejected and hopeless. That blurry view of their beloved ship was no vision; the only possession left that would have kept the memory of the bandit gang alive was now lost.
"I wanted to go down with the ship," said Deacon, his voice a little hoarse. "But Rammon would've wanted me to live. Plus, I still have to help you, and this pretty little lady here." He pointed with his thumb at the girl, who looked quite nervous for some reason. After a second's silence, to the boys' surprise the girl opened her mouth to speak.
"I-I'm sorry I hadn't said anything earlier…m-my name is…"
Skye and Deacon leaned in a bit closer to her, somewhat excited. If she could speak their language, then perhaps she knew something about the 'He' Rammon had mentioned.
The girl blushed slightly; with her head lowered she said quietly, "...Ellora."
Her voice floated to an ear as if a zephyr was slightly brushing the cheek. She didn't speak anything after that, but, at the very least, she had finally opened up a little.
Deacon noticed Skye's face light up, but Ellora was now blushing like mad, and if the curious boy started bombarding her with questions, there was a good chance that she could panic. So he interrupted and said to the shy girl, "It's alright. You don't have to say anymore. And PINHEAD here.." He wrapped his arm around Skye's head tightly and ruffled his hair. "I'll make sure he doesn't pressure you."
Skye got out of Deacon's grip and fumed in embarrassment.
"Dammit..." The boy muttered, then saying aloud, "I think we should start heading for the capital. It's all we can really do now."
"Yeah," Deacon nodded. "We have to cover as much distance as we can before dark. And sooner or later we'll have to find a place to sleep."
Deacon and Skye stood, brushing off dust and blades of grass. But Ellora would not move; she briefly stared at the ground, then with a sigh she collapsed. Skye did not hesitate to scoop her up and offer to carry her. So they started off, walking westward across the field.
-------------------------------------------------
The sun sank behind the distant sea, twilight's shadows fading. The travelers had many miles to go before the capital would be reached; so far they had made it close to a small, unnamed village settled behind a forested path in four days time. But they carried no money, so their hopes of finding warm, soft beds to rest their heads on were out of reach. They decided to stay just outside the village, and they camped in a grove of trees next to a tiny spring. Their thirst was quenched, but their hunger lingered. Skye managed to awaken the girl so that she might drink from the spring, and she did, greedily gulping the liquid. The poor thing was more than half-starved; the last time that she, or any of them had eaten was before the Pluto had been sunk by the acid-spewing sea serpent. All of the rice, dried meats and fruits had gone down along with the vessel.
And so they had been sustaining themselves on water from little brooks that they just happened to pass by, and bitter leaves from non-poisonous bushes and other various plants. Deacon and Skye both knew that they would not last the trip to the capital, especially not the girl, as long as they had no food.
Late on the fourth night in that little grove of trees, Ellora was curled up in Skye's lap, desperate for warmth. He too was shivering; he had bathed in the spring to wash away the monster blood from his clothes and body; but the night breezes that blew constantly through the trees chilled him to the bone. He refrained from falling asleep, for tonight he would have to keep watch.
Deacon had gone to find firewood. Unfortunately, he returned with barely enough to fuel a spark. Nevertheless he made use of it, and managed to get a flame going. Once the fire had grown to a decent size, Skye carefully and gently scooted over with the resting girl to the fire. Ah, that wonderful warmth! If only there was something tasty to roast over the crackling flames. His stomach growled loudly, and Deacon noticed.
"Hey, are you okay?" Deacon asked concernedly. Of course, he was just as hungry, but Skye was still a growing boy, already toothpick-thin. Deacon, now a grown man of twenty-one years, had lived through times of famine as a boy, and could go (with effort) without food for many days. However, Skye and the poor shy girl needed nourishment. They weren't going to last too much longer. So, when the blue-haired boy answered in a shaky voice, "I-I'm alright, don't worry," he knew that a plan was needed.
And he quickly came up with one.
"Skye, listen up. I have an idea. Tomorrow, we'll go to the village and ask for work. Hopefully that'll give us food and shelter, and once we're ready, we can set off towards the capital again. We might even be able to find some info while we're at it. How does that sound?"
Skye nodded in agreement. Deacon added, "Tell you what--I'll keep watch tonight. Go to bed, you wuss."
Deacon sighed, realizing that the boy had already nodded off. He propped himself up, borrowed one of Skye's daggers for protection, and thoughtfully stared into the fire, waiting for sunrise.
-----------------------------------
A hazy sun came up, and Skye awoke. He groggily sat up, and blushed when he saw the girl, Ellora, still curled up in his lap. Her hair had become tangled, but it shone under the thin rays of light, spread about. He didn't have to shake her awake; she fluttered her eyes open, and gasped when she realized she had fallen asleep with the boy. She quickly got up and moved away from him, leaving him puzzled.
Skye heard a chuckle from nearby from Deacon, who then, a second later, burst out into laughter.
"She doesn't seem to like you much," he said, still laughing. "'Can't blame her."
Skye felt tempted to strangle Deacon, but was too weak to even stand. Instead he made an obscene gesture and yelled hoarsely at him.
"Yeah, well, I don't see her running to you. Now when are we gonna get some food, dammit?!"
"Real soon. I went into the village earlier--I think it's called Brook Town--and I found us a part-time job at a bar. I told the owner we just wanted some food. He told me to come back later today, and he'd be all ready for us. So C'mon, it's time to go!"
Skye eagerly hopped up, and Ellora stood up, following the boys silently.
They stepped into Brook Town, a lively community that had been untouched by the chaos of war in the northern regions of Wika. Colorful houses and shops lined the streets, with an inn well known for its service, traveling attractions such as musicians and poets, and even wandering warriors willing to demonstrate their skills for a small price. The continuous hustle and bustle was a good cover for anyone who wanted to eavesdrop on conversations and rumors, which is exactly what Skye and Deacon wanted. Besides finally getting a bite to eat, they may hear something about the mysterious burning of Tu'ual.
The threesome made their way through, kindly refusing offers to buy trinkets and wares from traveling salesmen (and brashly declining "offers" of another kind,) looking for what Deacon described as "a small pub by the name of the Brass Goblet, next to the only weapons dealer in town." It was common to see at least one place that sold and crafted weapons, sometimes specializing in one type or all kinds. Soldiers, mercenaries, and bounty hunters were the most frequent customers of such places; in these days carrying a sword and wearing armor were becoming more and more of a necessity during the battles across the country. Skye was somewhat disappointed that money was being spent on weapons of warfare than anything else; there were other needs that Wika had, desirable needs to be fulfilled. Why, instead of sending out more soldiers to die in the fighting, currency could be used to send Brenne Shal's and Wika's counsel to negotiate in safe territory, or it could be used to start rebuilding destroyed property or lives or--
"C'mon, Skye! Do you want to be late for a part-time job?! Get your ass over here!"
The boy emerged from his string of thoughts, wondering why he hardly spoke his mind out-loud. Deacon thought he was stupid; why couldn't he just say anything? Before he had the chance to get lost in thought again, he hurried inside the Brass Goblet.
Inside was the average bar; men gathered around wooden tables, guffawing loudly, telling stories of eventful everyday life, extraordinary tales of battle while laughing in the face of danger. Also, rumors and secrets were being whispered, of legendary beasts and treasures, and political truths and lies about the direction the war was going, and of course, the condition of the king. All sorts of things could be heard;
"I hear that the king 'as some disease, and when he dies Wika's goin' under--"
"No, no, no! Ye got it all 'rong, 'ee has a curse, put on 'im by a sorceress--"
"I thought 'ee was already dead, I did--"
"Hey, lookit that pretty little lady, eh?"
"Woo! Why don'tcha come over here, sweetheart?"
Most of the customers' attention was now drawn onto Ellora, who just innocently, shyly huddled herself close to Deacon and Skye.
"It's okay," the boy said comfortingly, "They're just a bunch of drunks. They won't lay a finger on you if I have anything to say about it."
They waited for the owner patiently, and after a few minutes he finally came out, gestured a "C'mere" at Deacon, and they both disappeared to the back. They're probably just getting ready, I guess, Skye thought. Why further discussing was needed he couldn't figure out, but he waited, leading Ellora over to the barstools at the counter. They sat down, and Skye tried to listen to specific chatter regarding anything important. But now he felt as if it was impossible to pick out anything. So instead he leaned over, his elbows resting on the counter. He glanced around at the various beverages; ranging from the cheapest beer to some of the finest wines, some priced at more gold than was possible for a commoner like him to buy. He assumed that the king perhaps ordered some of his drinks from here, or maybe other wealthy lords and ladies. The Brass Goblet was not just another run down pub, Skye concluded.
After having a look, he turned his attention to the girl. But someone else caught his eye. He raised his head to get a better look.
A man in an enormous, forest-green trench coat, and a large, mud-colored, western-style hat, sat hunched over at the far end of the counter, in his hand a glass mug of foamy ethanol. Locks of hair were visible from underneath the hat, but it was difficult to tell the color, for he was seated in the darkest corner of the room. The man lifted the mug, and in three gulps he drowned the glass. He set it aside, next to what Skye now noticed were at least eight more empty glasses. The boy had of course seen men drink this much before, but there was something about this particular stranger, something else that fascinated the boy enough to want to keep watching him.
The man stood up. Skye gasped in amazement; the man stood nearly as high as the ceiling! The giant figure stepped out of the shadows, stepping toward the boy.
Did he spot me watching him? No, he was looking the other way. I hope he didn't think I was just staring at him!
But the truth was that Skye was staring at the man, as much as he hated to admit it. As the man approached him, rapid thoughts and excuses ran through the boy's mind, excuses to keep from getting in trouble with this man seeming twice his size.
The man stood over Skye, casting a large shadow. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few silver coins, and set them on the counter. Without a word, he strode out the door, his heavy footsteps creaking the wooden floor as he went.
Skye was relieved, but now quite curious. Who WAS that? Was he a regular customer? Was he just another warrior or bounty hunter, stopping by for a drink? Somehow, the boy did not think so.
Before Skye could finish his thoughts, Deacon and the pub owner emerged from the back. As soon as his eyes lied on Deacon, he could not contain his laughter.
"WAHAHAHAHA!!! What the hell is that you're wearing?!"
"...Shut up."
"No, really, did you forget to shave today, or something? HAHAHAHAHA!!"
"You won't be laughing for much longer, smartass. You're wearing one of these, too."
"...Huh?"
"That's right. It's required. You can't work here if you don't wear it. And I'm not willing to share the food I earn with you."
Skye sighed, and reluctantly followed the owner to the back room. In there was the horrid uniform; from a distance, it looked like a mountain of brownish fur. To Skye, it looked like a heat suffocation nightmare.
"It's to celebrate the town's fiftieth anniversary of huntin' the squirrlox! Brook Town's famous for making the finest squirrlox fur coats and boots, and the whole town's celebrating the occasion today."
Skye felt sorry those poor animals had to perish in order to make this glob of fur they called a coat.
"Do I...really have to...?"
"If you want yer grub, then yeah, you can bet you hafta."
Hesitantly, Skye threw on the mass of fluff, and cursed Deacon in his mind for having them take this job.
-----------------------------------
It turned out, however, that their part-time job was not a horrible as they had thought. Despite their obvious embarrassment (furry suits weren't all that appealing,) they greatly enjoyed servicing the customers. The barkeep was lenient with them, and they made chit chat with people as they handed out drinks and foodstuffs.
Ellora, in the meantime, was working in the kitchen, watching the soups and various dishes, as well as acting as dishwasher. The chef had been missing for the day, and until Deacon had come by playing the pitiful beggar willing to do anything for a piece of anything, the owner had planned on closing early. But with three able-bodied workers, business would roll along as usual.
Skye was enthralled by the adventures told by the old, tough men and travelers that came and went. While listening to these action-packed danger stories, he took every chance that he had to procure clues to the burning of Tu'ual. In one conversation started by a gruff sailor (who went by Thomas,) he learned the location of Wika's capital.
"Wow! You beat three sea snakes?!" Exclaimed the boy after hearing another story told by the sailor.
"Well, sea snakes aren't that difficult to kill, if you're an experienced warrior like me. Three is nothing, compared to the horrors my other fellow seamen have had." Thomas was a man in his mid-thirties, clad in tough leathers and a silver chest plate claimed to have magical properties. In his struggle with the trio of sea snakes, the armor had given him protection from the serpents' deadly acid.
"But still," said Skye, "That's gotta be the most amazing thing I've ever heard!"
"You've said tha same thing fer all our ramblings, ye little rascal!" The men bellowed, laughing, giving Skye a good SLAP on the back. As soon as the noise died down, the boy found his chance to ask, "Say, do you guys know where the capital of Wika is? Me and my buddy Deac haven't been around the mainland much, and we need to find the quickest route there."
"From the town, I'd say, you must head Northwest, past the mountains," replied Thomas. He added, "Why d'ya need to get there, eh?"
Skye wanted what happened to remain a secret, even after hearing the stories of all the great men there. He started to make up an excuse;
"Ah, well, you see, I can't--"
Suddenly, the front door flew open, a female voice crying out:
"Ah!!! I'm sorry!! I'm late!!"
The young girl dashed past them; Skye did not get a chance to actually see what she looked like, for she disappeared behind the back room door almost as instantly as she burst in. Seconds later, she emerged again, along with Ellora; in fact, she was shoving the startled-looking girl out the door, frantically apologizing.
"I'm sorry! Get out--I can handle the cooking! Don't worry about it!"
As the hurried girl ran back into the kitchen, Ellora stood there, quite confused. Skye excused himself from the group of men, and he walked towards the counter, asking Ellora what had happened. But the startled girl merely shook her head, and pointed to the kitchen. Skye nodded, and out of curiosity (of course) he went into the kitchen himself.
Wonderful smells wafted about the room, and Skye could not help but sigh at the thought that whatever was cooking, he might get to eat it. He looked around until he spotted the girl; she had an iron skillet in one hand, shaking and flipping what looked like stir-fry, and in the other a wooden spoon, stirring a bubbling stew. The boy, unable to resist, drifted towards the tasty smells.
As he approached her, however, he was not greeted by the delectable food. Instead, a heavy boot slammed hard on his face, sending him flying against a pantry door full of wine bottles; in turn, the pantry door flew open, and the bottles came down crashing, the fruity smell of wine mingling with the other scents.
The girl, her attention now away from her cooking, turned and yelped, "Oh my God! What did I do?! I killed someone?! And look--he was a new guy, too! OH. MY. GOD!"
She set the utensils aside and rushed over to help the blue-haired lad, who was drenched in red wine and a bright red bruise slapped on his left cheek. Taking care not to step on the broken glass, the girl reached out her hand to the boy and asked with her voice still raised, "Are you alright?! You're not really dead, are you?! You better get up! C'mon!"
Skye, being quite dizzy from the blow to his face, sat up, wobbling slightly, and with the girl's help he heaved himself up to a standing position. The large and now heavier fox-squirrel coat made it more difficult, now that it was seeped in alcohol.
He finally had a better look at the girl; and, was it a view!
She was almost about Skye's height, golden-blond hair that was tied up, a few loose locks hanging over her forehead, a waitress uniform (a squirrlox day version,) and--making Skye blush so hard he was a bright red cherry--melon-sized breasts.
"Hey, are you okay?" The girl asked him again. "You can quit STARING at me."
Skye thought that he himself deserved another boot to the face for that one. He quickly turned his head away, stuttering, "I-I'm fine! S-sorry 'bout that!"
The girl frowned. "Barkeep's gonna be so mad…" She brushed the pieces of glass that were still stuck to the coat. "This thing cost ten gold!"
Skye made another attempt to apologize. "I'm sorry, It was my fault, I--"
"You should be sorry! You idiot, Barkeep's gonna take this out of your pay!"
The boy thought about his long-awaited dinner, vanishing before him.
"Uh, can't we just wash it, or something?" The boy was desperate; he didn't want to end up begging for his meal.
"No, it's already lost its value. We're just gonna have to toss it."
The boy sighed. There goes my dinner...gone...woe is me…
The girl helped him undo the coat. She rolled her eyes at the pitiful look on his face.
"I'll take the blame. You can relax."
Skye's plate full of food popped back into view again, but seemingly, it was to be at this young lady's expense.
"Are you sure?" Skye asked. "I could--"
"No! Barkeep won't be as hard on me because I'm a girl, and I've worked here for a long time. Use your head!"
For a moment, Skye felt as if she were a female Deacon. He shuddered slightly as she walked away in a huff.
------------------
For the rest of the day, Skye took orders and walked about without his uniform. He snickered to himself, for Deacon still had to wear the hot, stuffy mass of fur. But after the sun had set, and few customers remained, the air grew chillier; Deacon ended up with the last chuckle, he himself being comfortably warm.
But all that Skye cared about was the time when Barkeep would finally call them into the kitchen. Ellora waited with the boys, and she giggled as Skye made up stories about what sort of feast was waiting for their empty stomachs.
"When I entered that kitchen, Ellora, it was like a garden of meat and cheese and stew and everything you can imagine; there were full cabinets of wine, beer, and more wine, and the smells were so good I could already taste everything!"
The boy shivered, sneezing. Deacon laughed;
"You're gonna die from a cold before you get a chance to taste the 'Food Garden of Eden.' "
"Shut up! At least I wasn't broiling all day in a suit, unlike you, Mr. Smartass."
Before another petty argument could come to a steaming boil, the moment Skye had been waiting for came;
"C'mon part-timers! Time to eat!"
The two starving boys were nothing but a blur as they rushed into the kitchen, Ellora calmly following behind. They practically dived onto the table that was set up; leftover chicken legs, hearty vegetable stew, still hot, and cold, frothy beer. The boys fought over every drumstick, every bite of stew, every drop of drink; it was clear to the Barkeep now that they weren't lying about being starved. Even the mild-mannered Ellora got her share of the meal, and she ate gladly.
As soon as they had slowed down and drowned everything with a swig of beer, Barkeep felt inclined to make conversation.
"So," he started, "You boys never told me why you really needed just a part-time job here. Are you headin' somewhere?"
"Yeah, to the capital," Deacon replied, nibbling on a bone. "We're looking for someone, or, something, as we'd like to say."
This reminded Skye of the information the sailor, Thomas, gave him.
"A sailor told me today," he said, "That the capital is northwest of where we are, beyond the mountains."
"Then you boys've got a hard journey ahead of you," said Barkeep. He lowered his voice, speaking in a grim tone. "Up on that mountain there, is battleground."
It was as if he had spoken of an ill omen. Wherever there was battleground, the only way to get through was to fight, to kill, no matter which side one had to fight for.
"Mere traveler's wouldn't make it past," Barkeep continued. "You' be dead before you knew what killed you. Up there, some soldiers kill even some from their own squad, for a battle that goes weeks on end. And the constant cold drives them to eventually only wanting to keep themselves alive--and that means killing anything else that moves."
Skye had never seen a battlefield, nor any place where Wika's and Brenne Shal's armies had fought each other. He could only imagine the horrors of war; clearly, the battles on the mountain were one of them.
Barkeep saw the look in the boys' eyes. "You kids aren't gonna go up there, are you?"
Deacon hated to lie, but nothing would stop him from finding whatever had destroyed his home, and the bandits, his family. The girl needed protection from whatever it was, too, and her mystery had to be solved as well. So he answered:
"No, we'll take the long way around. We may be in a hurry, but I would like to avoid a battleground, if at all possible."
Barkeep sighed with relief. "I'm glad you guys're gonna take the safer route. It'll take ya longer, but it's better than getting caught in the bloodshed."
Skye figured out that Deacon had lied; he kept his now obsolete objection to himself. Ellora remained quiet, but not unaware.
After a silence, Barkeep spoke again.
"Well, I'm glad for all the help ya gave me today. Did you guys meet any interesting fellows while you were here?"
The warrior clad in the western hat and forest green trench coat popped into Skye's memory. Perhaps he was a regular customer?
"I did see one man," said the boy." He sat in a dark corner at the end of the counter. I didn't exactly meet him, but he got close to me when he paid for his drinks..."
Barkeep raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see who you're talkin' 'bout...he wore a long, green coat right?"
"Yeah! And he looked almost seven feet tall, maybe more. He was huge!"
"So, the Dragon Hunter was here...I haven't heard of him bein' around for near fifteen years now."
"'Dragon Hunter'?" Deacon piped up. "Who would want to go around killing dragons?"
"Well, 'Dragon Hunter' is this town's nickname for 'im. Fifteen years ago, this town was attacked by a red dragon--a fearsome creature, fifty feet high, not counting when it stands on it's hind feet. The monster was flyin' 'round the town, spittin' up great balls 'o fire all over the place. People were gettin' killed, the town was in flames, and the worst part was that the soldiers the king sent to protect this town--our own soldiers--they turned tail the second they saw the beast tearin' and burnin' up everything. We thought all hope for this town was gone.
"But I was there 'n the middle of it all, and I watched as a man emerged from the shadows, tall and strong, his blade brandished. It was the strangest thing, for as soon as he came out, the dragon stopped his rampage. But it didn't leave—instead, it flew down to meet the man.
"Now I had gone to hide behind what was left of a brick wall, and I was shakin' in my boots--but I stayed to witness what happened next. The man and the dragon were face to face with each other, neither one looking afraid. And even though the red dragon was so much damn bigger, the man seemed as big and powerful as the beast.
"The dragon breathed fire, and not just a fireball, but a hot river of it, just shootin' out of its throat. The man just stood there, gripped the hilt of his weapon, and took the full blast of the fire. I didn't think he would come out of something like that alive. Then what really dazzled my eyeballs was this--the hulking red fire-breather all of a sudden split clean in two!
"Guts were flying everywhere--guts and blood--and I was covered in 'em. I got myself to stand up straight, and when I looked up, the slayer of 'ol 'Big Red' was standin' right in front of me."
Skye was listening with an intense look on his face. He was burning to hear more, even though little was left to tell. Making an interruption he asked, "How does everyone know about the Dragon Hunter if you were the only one watching?"
"I was gettin' to that part," growled Barkeep, with a wide grin. "Now let me finish.
"The man stood, with eyes a dark blue, deeper than any ocean, any sea that I have seen. His face didn't show emotion, not even a little bit, as he said to me, 'I hope you and the people of this village can live in peace, however long that may last. I must leave, now.'
"The voice comin' outta someone that handsome (but not as handsome as me) was deep, like his eyes. But I had never seen someone with such a look on the face before as he had. As he left, people were cheerin' for 'im, but not another word came outta his mouth. After that, we were left to rebuild and repair what we realized wasn't that much damage done in peace, like he said, and we never saw him again.
"He's known the whole world over now; after we adopted his nickname, we were able to ask news of 'im from other travelin' warriors. We've already heard many of his deeds--very good ones, if I might add. He's a hero to us all."
Skye--and now Deacon--were more interested than ever in this mystery warrior, the Dragon Hunter. If he wandered the world, and was still in town, he might know something about the burning of Tu'ual.
But before any more stories were told, a noise could be heard at the front door, someone bursting in. A booming voice called out; "Where's this little troublemakin' missy's parents?! Eh?!"
Then a familiar voice caught Skye's ear;
"GRAHH!! Lemmie go, you big, ugly, stupid--"
"SHADDUP, GIRLIE!"
Skye and Deacon quickly rushed out; in the bar room, a tall man in a chain mail suit was clutching the blond haired girl--the one who had helped the blue haired boy earlier that day. She disappeared sometime before Deacon, Skye, and Ellora were called to dinner, and the boy had been wondering where she had gone.
After telling Ellora to stay where she was, Barkeep emerged from the kitchen, immediately yelling at the guard who had the blond girl by the collar of her shirt:
"What the hell are you doin', buddy?! What's goin' on?!"
Then, being the gruff man that he was, he turned to the girl and yelled at her as well:
"Sarah! What the hell were you doin'?!"
Sarah yelled back, "Pops!! I didn't do anything wrong!! This guy's being unfair!!"
The guard explained, struggling to hold her arm (while she was still screaming, "LEMMIE GO!!")
"She was caught in the marketplace, tryin' te steal some goods. We can't let a nasty little thief like 'er get away with it."
Sarah pleaded, "I'm innocent! I told you already I--" But the guard had enough of dealing with her begging; with another "SHADDUP" he took the hilt of a sword he was carrying, and it came down on the side of her head. Everyone gasped, but no one dared to draw weapons in protest. At least, except for Skye.
"Hey!" Cried the boy, drawing both of his daggers (which, the whole time he had kept by his side.) "Why won't you believe her?!"
But the guard didn't listen; instead, a strange smirk spread across his whiskered face, and turning his head slightly he called out;
"Come on in, boys! We've got more trouble than expected!"
Three more guards stepped in; apparently they were already stationed just outside. There was an air about them that made them look like more than guards. They all wore a strange, slightly smirking expression, as the guard holding Sarah did. They each drew their swords, which glinted in the dim light that illuminated the room.
Deacon put up his bare fists, his only weapon at the moment, and Skye still held up his daggers, steady. The guard holding Sarah then declared, "You, blue boy, are now arrested fer threatenin' an officer with a weapon. Take 'im in, boys."
Skye zipped around the guards in attempt to reach Sarah; he knew he was too fast for them. But to his utter surprise, one of the guards caught him firmly by the collar of his vest, and swiftly knocked him out with a hand-chop to the back of his neck.
"Hey!!" Deacon threw his heavy squirrlox coat at one guard, temporarily blinding him. He then dashed up to the guard holding the unconscious Skye, and tried to uppercut his jaw. But the third, undistracted soldier came up behind Deacon, grabbed his arms, and twisted them back until they were pinned together. The guard holding Sarah said, "Take him in too. Anyone who stands in our way doesn't get off easy."
Deacon, stronger than Skye, made a good effort to escape from the guard's hold on him. But the other guard, who previously had a mass of fur covering his head, was free; he managed to dash up to Deacon and gave him a hard punch, right in his gut. Deacon doubled over in pain, and felt himself being picked up and dragged by his arms. In seconds, he too was unconscious.
As the traveling warriors, customers, and Barkeep helplessly watched the girl and the boys being dragged away, Ellora stood outside the kitchen door, afraid for them.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

VII:

Fearfulness swept over Skye as he walked in random circles, searching for his parents. The crowd's hustle and bustle was not helping; the more people that poured in, the more lost and frightened he became. He cried out desperately:
"Mama! Daddy!"
But no matter how many times he called out, neither his mother nor his father came to him. This realization sent him on the verge of tears; he tried to choke them back with little sobbing hiccups.
In the maze of people, everyone seemed to be too busy with their own lives to even bother helping the boy, and they ignored him when they passed him by. But the five-year-old lad managed to swallow his tears, standing up straight and never giving up on his search. He pushed and shoved and wiggled his tiny body through the more gigantic bodies, looking for a way out of the maze. As he struggled to get through he could see the crowd thinning out; soon he would find his family.
And once he emerged, his efforts were rewarded with a pair of soft, loving arms coming to scoop him up tenderly, and soft, lipstick-covered kisses smothering his cheeks. Another pair of hands were stroking his hair, a deeper voice comforting and just as loving as his mother's. He was the happiest little boy in the world again, back safe in his parents' gentle loving care.
Yet another voice approached them, another boy's, urgent and worrying. Skye felt another hand trying to check up on him, but it was quickly brushed away by his father's. The other boy's voice grew silent; Skye turned his head to look...
---------------------------------
Skye felt damp, cold. He awoke to the faint sound of wind echoing along the walls, and a voice, whispering to him:
"Hey! Wake up. C'mon...wake up!"
He sat up abruptly, and found himself up close and face-to-face with the blond-haired girl, Sarah. Startled, she backed away from him and said, "Don't do that! You were freaking me out there for a second. I thought you were hurt."
Skye brushed the sleep from his eyes, and looked at the dripping, cave-like walls surrounding them. He noticed that he and Sarah had been placed in a cell; the iron bar door confining them in gave it away. Despite knowing that he asked Sarah, "Where are we?"
"We're at home, with a nice freplace, and those rats over there are actually my pet cats," she answered sarcastically. "Where do you think we are?! We're in JAIL."
"But...where?"
"Now that's the one thing I don't know. I just woke up an hour ago. We could have been asleep for hours, even days. We could be in another town."
"But...weren't those officers in charge of patrolling your town? We should still be there."
Sarah's face cast a worried, contemplative look. "That's another thing I don't know. I've never seen those guys before in town. Even if they just took over the previous officers' job, I still felt a bad vibe coming from them..."
The boy understood. There was something he had sensed about them that seemed questionably suspicious. But his immediate thought and the next words he blurted out were, "How are we gonna get out of here?"
Sarah stood up and walked over to the iron bars that held them in the small cell. She rapped them with her fingers, saying, "These things would be hard to cut through. We don't even have any tools or anything to try and get out with."
Skye patted around where his belt should have been--the daggers were missing. But even so, he wasn't out of ideas.
"I can get us out," he said cheerfully.
"Huh? And how are you gonna do that?"
"Just stand back and watch. I have an idea."
Sarah took a few steps backward, and so did Skye. He crouched slightly, as if ready to pounce. One step forward; and to Sarah's amazement, in an ultra-quick blur the boy charged at the grate; the extreme force of his swift kick violently shook the cold iron, and it all loosely toppled to the floor.
The boy was proud that he had managed to get them out, but the girl suddenly ran up to him and--
Smack. The slap on the back of his head, as it felt to him, could have been just as strong as his kick. With a yelp of pain, he retaliated by yelling:
"Hey! I just set us free!! What was that for?!"
"That was for making so much noise!! What if the officers heard us?! We could just be thrown into another cell!"
"Oh c'mon, they didn't hear that--"
"What the hell is all that racket going on down there?!"
The arguing pair immediately shut themselves up. They would either have to run now, or be caught. Sarah quickly whispered, "I saw your friend being carried to his cell a little while ago. We should try to find and free him, too."
"What? Deac's--"
She grabbed Skye's arm. "Let's go! Hurry!"
They started running down the hall, Skye moving at a slower pace so that Sarah could keep up. She was still quite baffled at Skye's risky, yet convenient maneuver. Questions such as, "How did he get so fast?" and, "Didn't that hurt him?" ran through her mind briefly, and were then shoved aside until there was a better time to ask them.
They raced around a corner, and down another hall lined with holding cells, each with moisture dripping down the cold, stone walls. This place was almost as dreary as a real castle dungeon; the only thing it seemed to lack was a torture chamber.
Skye screeched to a halt outside a highly noticeable wooden door, for that instant curiosity of his had gotten the better of him. Sarah told him to keep going, but the boy was already in the room. A heart-pounding minute went by; and Skye emerged with his daggers once again sheathed at his sides, a large broadsword with a wooden handle in a plain leather sheath, and a medium-sized battleaxe.
"I knew I would find my daggers somewhere," he said with a grin. "And this is for you."
He tossed the broadsword for her to use; after catching it she said, "What'll we need these for? We aren't fighting anybody!"
"Well, I thought we'd need 'em just in case those bad-vibe weirdoes show up. And once we find Deac, I'll give him this." He pointed to the axe, and Sarah nodded. They were ready to go.
The dungeon was laid out like a labyrinth, deep, large, and with confusing twists and turns. But the most confusing aspect of it was the sets of prisoners they discovered in one row. They would have been able to spot Deacon amongst them right away, if not for the dreary darkness that seemed to linger. It was also difficult to find Deacon due to the pleas of the men locked in the cells.
"Save us!" One cried.
"We'll do anything!" Said another.
"I can give you gold, ships, anything you want, just please let me out!"
Skye and Sarah pitied these people greatly; however, it would be wrong of them if they let out the prisoners guilty of real crimes, even if they were treated unfairly. It would be too hard to figure out who was telling the truth, and who was just another lying scoundrel ready to dispose of his rescuers once he was free.
And so Skye and Sarah reluctantly ignored the men, still searching in the dimness for Deacon.
An idea popped into the boy's head; all he had to do was call out for his friend.
"Deac!! Deacon, where the hell are you?!"
To his relief, he heard the former bandit call out from the end of the hall:
"It's about time, you little blue-headed bastard! Get over here!"
Skye and Sarah nodded to each other, and ran over to greet Deacon. He was alone in his cell, sitting cross-legged, his back against the wall in a lazy fashion.
"You could've at least TRIED to escape!" Skye told him.
"What's the point of that, when I know you're strong enough to just break out and come for me? Like you just did. See, you're here already. Now bust me outta here!"
Out of habit, the boy used his mighty kick to crash another iron grate in attempt to get Deacon; he was now free. He saw the battle axe in Skye's left hand, grabbed it and exclaimed, "Oh, is this for me? You shouldn't have!"
"Yeah yeah," Skye hurriedly replied, "We have to get out of here and go back to Ellora. I had a bad feeling about those guys that captured us. I don't want her to get arrested, too..."
Sarah was puzzled. :"Huh? Why're you so worried about her?"
"No time to explain," replied Deacon. "Blue-boy here's in a hurry--and so am I. We might tell you later. For now, let's just go."
Before they could turn around, the sound of echoing footsteps neared them.
"Shit!" Skye cursed, his voice hushed. "I think they've found us!"
----------------------------------------
The gray halls were stricken with a sudden silence. The nightly breeze that seemed to echo was now just a low whisper. The trio readied their weapons.
"What if they decide to--d-do away with us?" Said a trembling Sarah.
"They can't do anything," said Deacon. "These guys aren't officers.
"How do you know?" Skye asked.
"When they threw me in the cell, I woke up, but I still pretended to be knocked out. The guy who was holding me started talking to the other guy with him. They were whispering, but I managed to catch bits of it. From what I was able to gather I pieced this together: they said something about a 'master', someone who was leading them, and hundreds of others. Their leader was searching for someone, and the people locked up in here are being interrogated."
The trio moved backwards into the shadows, behind a corner. The footsteps of the fake-officer drew closer.
"What was the name of their leader?" Skye said.
"They wouldn't say," Deacon answered. "Apparently they've been forbidden to speak his name. All I know is that they are looking for someone, and they are trying to catch as many people as they can to interrogate in order find the person they're looking for."
Sarah was as confused as ever, and said nothing. The only thing on her mind was how much she just wanted to leave this place, to go back home to Barkeep. She hoped that they would get moving.
"C'mon," Skye whispered, "Let's keep going. Maybe we'll lose 'em."
"Maybe you won't," said a voice."
The startled party jumped, turning to face the voice behind them. It was one of the false officers, a heavily cloaked one; his face was completely hidden under a hood.
"I'm afraid your escapade ends here," said the cloaked man, his voice light but serious. "You're all coming with me."
Skye zipped behind the man, and with a cry lunged with his blades. But they merely bounced off, to Skye's shock. Literally.
A jolt of electricity surged through the boy's insides, and he was thrown back against the opposite wall. The sparks lingered for a second, then disappeared. A faint light glowed around the man, then quickly faded.
Deacon was in disbelief; he had never seen anything like this before. Nevertheless he prepared an attempt to knock the cloaked man out of the way; but Sarah reached out and grabbed his shirt, stopping him.
"Don't!" She said in warning. "He's a magician--you know, he can use magic! He has a shield up!"
On the other side of the hall, Skye was struggling to stand. The electric shock he received was still tingling in his arms and legs, rendering them numb. He had heard of magic, and magicians, but he had never thought that they really existed; this experienced proved that they did.
"Now that you know that I can use magic," said the magician, "Which is far more able than anything you could try to combat against me with, give up now and come with me."
Sarah and Deacon said nothing, as if they were ready to accept. But then Sarah screamed, "Never!!" and rushed toward Skye. Deacon dodge-rolled around the corner, and stood firm as Sarah helped up the wounded boy. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pushed him with words.
"C'mon Skye, run!"
And despite the numbness he ran with her down the next hallway of dungeon cells, Deacon following a few seconds after.
But the magician was not going to let them go that easily; he raised a staff hidden in his cloak, and silently murmured a spell. A second later he was raised off of the ground, levitating. He flew after the determined escapees.
Down the long hall, Deacon could see a door, and he automatically assumed that it was the exit. Turning his head to look behind, he noticed the magician swiftly floating after them.
"C'mon!!" He yelled at the other two, "Run faster, dammit! We're almost there!"
Skye still felt weak, collapsing every few seconds, Sarah having to lift him back up. She was forced to shove him forward;
"Dammit, run!! RUN!!"
The magician charged up another spell; a small, glowing white orb materialized in his right hand.
"Light Beam," he whispered. The orb jetted, a small stream of energy rapidly heading towards Skye and Sarah.
In the instant before the light hit them, the boy used what strength he had to dive out of the way, taking Sarah down with him. As it passed Deacon, he barely dodged it by leaping backward clumsily, trying to keep his balance. The beam hit the door, instantly demolishing it. Everyone except the magician ducked as bits and pieces of wood flew and scattered about.
The magician was approaching, but instead of stopping, he continued forward, heading out the exit.
Shaking bits of wood and stone off, Skye, Sarah, and Deacon stood, wondering whether to stay where they were or to take their only chance of escape. Skye decided to take the risk; he bolted out the exit, ready to face the magician who could still be waiting out there for them.
"C'mon!!" Skye shouted out, scanning his surroundings left and right. It was forest area, similar to Brook Town's forests. For all he knew, they could still have been in Brook Town, but for now he assumed that he was far from there.
He waited for a few minutes. But no one emerged from anywhere, so he thought it was now safe for his friends to come out. He called to them, and a wary looking Sarah stepped out, followed by Deacon, who was tightly clutching his weapon.
"Wh-where are we now?" Asked an ever so startled Sarah.
"I...have no idea," Skye answered. "I thought we were in Brook Town, but if you don't recognize this spot, then I'm not sure."
"Wherever we are," said Deacon, "We have to get back to Ellora. She'll be in danger if she's not with us."
The possibility of the frail girl already being found by her pursuer was already high. No matter where they were, Skye realized that they had to get back to her.
Exhausted from being chased out, the threesome began moving away from the prison building. Barely a few steps out, another figure was stepping out of the shadows of the trees in front of them.
"Dammit!" Deacon cursed, "He's still here--"
The shadowed figure spoke:
"I'm no pursuing sorcerer. There's no need to fear me. "
Deacon relaxed his shoulders, and along with Sarah and Skye gaped in awe at the man who stepped out into the light.
"No way--"
"It's--"
"Ah--!"
The legendary Dragon Hunter, his hat tipped over his face.
-------------------------------------
The man, who towered over them, spoke urgently:
"Come with me. We can't stay here."
After hearing this man's famous story, the trio knew he was trustworthy. They silently followed him into the small forest clearing, until the trees provided enough cover to block them from sight.
The Dragon Hunter raised his hand, signaling them to halt. He took a moment to listen, but for what, Skye didn't know. After a minute, he turned his head to a thick tree-trunk and said to it, "You can come out now. I found your friends."
To Skye and Deacon's relief, Ellora lightly stepped out from behind the tree. She shyly walked over to them, and when she was close to him she whispered a grateful "Thank you" to the Dragon Hunter.
"Why did you help her?" Skye asked, and, overwhelmed with curiosity added, "And how did you find us?"
The man tipped his hat up, revealing his deep azure eyes. He raised an eyebrow and said, "I know you. You're from the pub. You looked like you wanted to say something...either that, or you were just staring at me."
A trickle of sweat dripped down the blue-haired boy's forehead as Deacon gave him a look that said, "Great--now you've done it. You've pissed him off already."
Skye stuttered, "Uh, w-well, I mean, I, oh man…"
But the warrior just placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and said with a slight smile,
"I get it all the time. Now, there are some things I need to discuss with you, with all of you. I don't have much time."
So they gathered around in a circle, and sat on a patch of grass in the middle. The warrior began:
"To answer your first questions, I helped her because she came to me. She ran away from the pub, and found me just as I was leaving town. After she told me what happened, I sensed there was something amiss...and once I found where you were being held, I knew that I had to help you."
"That's what I'm wondering," Sarah piped up. "Where are we, exactly?"
"You all had been captured and taken to this land, near the Wikan Elfin Clan's forest."
"Elves?" Said Deacon. "We have elves here?"
The Elfin Clans of Wika and Brenne Shal were the only beings not at war between each other. They wanted to live their lives in peace, and the countries' kings had agreed to leave the Clans out of their struggle, as long as the elves themselves were not conspiring to take the forbidden land for their own. For many years since the war began, the elves had not left their territory, for fear of somehow getting involved even though they had security. After being hidden for so long, it was no wonder that Deacon, barely in his twenties, was unaware of their existence.
The warrior tipped his hat back down; the sunlight from above the treetops was too much for his eyes to handle.
"Yes, elves. And for now, the Elfin Clan's forest is your only safe haven. You need to get yourselves there before nightfall, before he finds you..."
Skye instantly saw his opening to finally ask.
"Who's 'he'?"
In answering, the Dragon Hunter lowered his already deep, solemn voice.
"There are very few outside his close circle of servants and followers that know him, but for those who do...they call him Akino."
The blue-haired boy suddenly felt a twinge, as if something had touched his brain. He could not recall it, but somehow, the name was familiar. Had he met someone with the name before? No; other than the people of Tu'ual, and the bandit gang, he hardly knew anyone else.
Deacon and Skye opened their mouths to speak, but the warrior shushed them.
"We can't speak anymore here in the open...you all must now head over to--"
"Wait just a minute!" Exclaimed Sarah, alarmed, "I have to get back home! Why do I have to go with them?!"
The warrior said calmly, "I'm sorry...but you've gotten yourself involved now. You can't go back."
"But...but--!"
The nameless man stuffed his hand into his giant coat pocket, and took out a folded strip of paper. He handed it to Sarah, who seemed flustered.
"Your guardian--Barkeep--wanted me to give this to you. Read it, and I think you'll understand."
She took it from him, and carefully read the note.
"What does it say?" Deacon asked.
"It...it...Barkeep wants me to go with you guys...more of those weird soldiers showed up in town, and they're looking for us..."
She turned back to the warrior and said sheepishly, "Alright...I guess I'll go with them."
"Good."
Everyone stood back up, and the Dragon Hunter gave them some final words of warning;
"You all need to hide for a while. The Wikan Elfin Clan's forest should do. If the enemy finds you there, then I suggest that you immediately head towards your original destination, the capital of Wika. Am I mistaken?"
"Y-yeah...that's where we were headed."
"And one more thing--take care of Ellora. She needs you, and you may come to need her someday."
Skye looked over at the silent girl, and she looked back, blushing and quickly turning away. He turned back to the warrior and said, "H-hey! Uh, wh-what's your name?"
Without turning back, the warrior answered, "My name matters no more to me...but if we meet again, you may call me Zero. Now farewell."
And he disappeared into the clusters of trees, back into the shadows. Now with a new destination in mind, they set out North. It was now sunrise, and if what Zero said was true, then they had very little time to waste.
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Chapters 4, 5

2008-07-14T16:54:01Z

IV:

Rammon and his five loyal men used the blueprints they had to find the Captain's Quarters, The Captain of the Guard's mainstay during visits to Tu'ual. They fought numerous elite soldiers along the way, but there were far fewer than expected. The lack of guards made the trip to the Captain's Quarters a quick and easy one. They passed through a hallway on the first floor, past the foyer and the courtyard into a stone tower. As the men made their way up the tower, Rammon gave them a brief pep talk;
"My bandits; my comrades; my friends. We are on our way to starting a revolution, a better life for the people who are suffering under this chaotic war. Us taking over this fortress is only half the battle; keep that in mind. I just want to let you know that whatever lies ahead, I, Rammon du Cresa, will never back down.
"I am old, too old...It's only fitting that perhaps this shall be my last battle."
The other men were silent. They knew, especially Stanley, that Rammon's death was nigh. But he would die with honor, they decided, and if they had to they would die alongside him. However, Stanley thought it strange that Rammon somehow knew this would be his last battle. Perhaps he knew something that they didn't? Whatever the case, the bandits loyally followed Rammon without question.
The group headed up the passage leading to the top of the tower, where they would meet only one of the men--but a major factor--that stood in the way of bringing peace to their country. The Captain of the Guard of the country of Brenne Shal; once he was gone, the first steps to ending the war would be in their grasp.
When the bandits reached the top, a grisly scene awaited them.
"...My God!" Exclaimed Goodwin, a stout man with fuzzy hair and a stubborn face. "What's happened here?!"
Soldiers, guards, and other men of lower rank had been brutally slaughtered; some torn to pieces with entrails spilling forth. The faces of these poor souls were frozen in terror, with nowhere to run from their killer. Blood smeared the walls, further painting this picture of crimson death.
But before anyone else could gasp in horror, Rammon drew out his weapon, a long sword that curved into a sharp hook at the tip. His face was wrinkled with anger and anticipation; he had a feeling of what lay ahead.
The old leader turned to face his comrades, and the bandits unsheathed their weapons. Then they walked toward a blood-spattered door, for behind it was the military leader they sought. Rammon charged at it, and with a mighty kick brought the door crashing down. The bandits stepped into a dark room, a voice greeting them;
"Welcome...are you...here to see the Captain?"
The bandits stood still, glancing around, eyes alert in the darkness. The hot, thick scent of blood still lingered in the air.
"Show yourself!" boomed Rammon fiercely, unfazed by the smells and the scene on the other side of the doorway. "Coward! There is no need to hide in the dark. Come forth and fight!!"
"Oh...I am afraid that the one who will need a hiding place in the dark...is you."
Suddenly, several torches in the room burst into flame, spewing out sparks that scattered on the floor. The fires illuminated more blood, more death. And, twisted in an unusual position, with legs crossed and back arched into an intense stretch, was an elite soldier. However as torchlight combined with the light of the moon brightened the room, it was known who the soldier was.
"This can't be...!" whispered Rammon. There, drenched in a red-brown pool of his own blood was Falien Cronch, also known as the Captain of the Guard of the country of Brenne Shal. Despite the heavy protection his rounded steel armor gave him, a gaping hole through his side showed that even he was no match for his murderer.
But the question of "who" had already been answered, for the man that had welcomed the bandits in his placid tone emerged from the shadows, clutching a blade smothered in flesh, bloody.
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After two hundred steps, Skye lost count. It did not seem possible that a tower in this mediocre-sized castle would stretch up so high; it was puzzling. But Skye kept climbing, glancing backward to check for any soldiers that might be stalking him. From the time Rammon proceeded with his group inside to the moment Skye had uncovered this hidden passage, Skye's courage and enthusiasm was at a minimum. But as he finally reached the top of the tower, his whole spirit lifted.
I made it! he thought, I'm gonna make a name for this country by getting this treasure!
He took another few steps forward from the top step, and a cool breeze brushed his skin. Shadows on the gray, stone-brick walls were broken as thin strips of moonlight shone. Skye turned his head to his left, and spotted a doorway. He followed the stream of light and excitedly hopped towards its source.
Suddenly, a wave of wonderment swept through him. The shining light came through a small open window; but what lay beneath it had the boy completely entranced.
Wrapped up in a ragged, dusty, white sheet, was a young girl.
Skye crept closer to get a good look; the girl lay on her side, unmoving. Was she dead? Was she asleep? The boy tiptoed towards her even more; close enough to touch her if he wanted. Something made him afraid to touch her, but it was a curious kind of fear; like a fear of doing or saying something, but wanting to do or say it anyway. Skye stood over the still body, undecided on his next move.
But that move was decided for him. Another chill breeze from the open window swept past, and the female body shivered. Skye gasped, but he could not run away, or jump back, or move whatsoever. All he could do was stare, wide-eyed..
Her face was of an indescribable beauty, with an expression of sereneness more tranquil than the blossom trees that bloomed in spring, the stillness of a forest, or even the ocean tides bringing in waves to the shore. She was frail and thin; it was as if she could be blown away by the wind drifting around the room. Her paleness was ethereal; so much that Skye wanted an even closer look at the sleeping beauty. She, in fact, was asleep; Skye knelt down next to her, and set the lantern down leaning towards her face. He felt deep, silent breaths that came out of her parted lips, and then he was convinced that she was alive.
He tried tapping her shoulder, which caused the girl to tense up and pull the thin, ratted sheet closer to her body. Skye did not want to leave this poor, shivering thing in a place such as this. He decided that somehow, he would bring her with him and escort her out.
So, as gently as he possibly could he whispered, still beside her, "Hello...please wake up...I'm gonna get you out of here..."
The girl lightly fluttered her eyes open. Without speaking, without reacting, she tilted her head upwards to look at the one who had woken her. Her eyes of deepest azure widened a little in surprise at the stranger sitting beside her.
"I'm going to help you," Skye said. "Don't panic; just please follow me."
The girl raised her fingers to briefly wipe the sleep from her eyes. She watched Skye stand up, and then tried to do so herself. She was like a newborn animal, shaking and wobbly as she tried to stay balanced while clutching the sheet to her chest. The sheet was the only article of clothing keeping her covered, and she gasped when she fell clumsily, letting it float away.
Skye too uttered a small cry, and covering his eyes he apologized for looking.
"Ah! No! I'm sorry I--I didn't mean to--it wasn't--"
But the girl just remained where she was, half-sitting, naked in the stream of moonlight. Skye slowly lowered his hand, and peeking out he could see her distress; she made another attempt to stand again, but he quickly stopped her.
"Don't get up," he said, "I can carry you, if you're too weak to walk."
The girl nodded, and Skye, nervous and embarrassed, helped her climb up onto his back. He hoisted her up, and bent over to pick up the lantern. Unfortunately, the oil keeping the wick aflame was nearly gone, reduced to a mere blue-colored haze diminished in size. So he set it back down, now troubled on what to do for a light.
"Dammit," he mumbled, "Not now! I still have to find the treasure! And I can't get back without a light..."
The girl, somewhat less confused as to what was happening, tugged on Skye's vest to get his attention.
"Hm? What's the matter?" He asked. The girl pointed her delicate forefinger out towards the doorway, and Skye went and exited the room, taking care not to let her slip off his back. When they were in the hallway, she then directed Skye to the far end. He carefully moved in the dark to where she pointed, and after groping the wall for a minute he found another door, unlocked. He opened it, and his nostrils were suddenly filled with a strange, but familiar scent. He had ended up outside again, on top of a bridge settled on a high wall. The wall was connected to another tower (or, as Skye would put it; the second highest part of the building,) and an orange-colored glow could be seen from the only window at the top. A heavy smoke wafted from it--
"Fire?! What the hell going on? Is Rammon up there?"
He thought about leaving the girl at this spot temporarily, and he started to gently lay her down, but then he heard a voice coming from behind him:
"Is anyone there?! Dammit, when I find you..."
The boy knew it might be Deacon, finally catching up to him. However, his realistic reasoning also said that it might be the elite guard, hunting him down after killing Deacon. He couldn't risk his, and the girl's life for mistaking a guard for the doubtful bandit; so he told the girl to "Hold on tight" and shot up to the second tower. In barely a second he made it, and he felt the girl shiver not from the cold, but from surprise.
"Are you alright?" He asked, "I didn't mean to scare you, if I did. Thanks for showing me how to get out here. Now I gotta see what's up in this tower."
The door leading inside was already open, indicating that someone, or a certain group of someones had let themselves in. The door creaked open as a breeze blew past, and though a fire may have been started, Skye wanted to confirm if Rammon was inside, or better yet, the key to the countries' extreme conflict. So he stepped forward, and inside of the tower.
---------------------------------------------------
Thick smoke chocked and burned Skye's throat as he headed up the stairs; he struggled to hold his breath, but the girl seemed unaffected. He asked if she was okay --he realized then that she had passed out from the heat of the fire. Flames licked the tapestry decorating the walls, and sparks flew at the boy, making it all the more difficult for him to climb the steps. He used the last of his energy to zip up to the top, and nearly toppled over when he screeched to a halt.
Bodies, many of them, were laid out along the hallway, all the way into another room. The smell of burning flesh made Skye lurch; he quickly moved past the dead soldiers and into the only room at the other end of the hall. More corpses were searing on the floor, but Skye cried out at one familiar face:
"Rammon!!!"
Rushing to the old bandit's side with the unconscious girl still on his back he knelt down to see Rammon in critical condition. The bandit had several slash wounds across his chest and forehead, his left leg had been completely severed off, and a long sword was impaled through his side. These fatal injuries inflicted upon Rammon gave Skye the assumption that he was dead; then, unexpectedly, he stirred slightly, twitching his right hand until it was moving. He reached up towards Skye, and managed to place his bloody hand on the boy's arm, resting it there. In a feebly unfamiliar tone the dying bandit managed to speak;
"...Listen to me, Skye...A horrible thing has happened...everyone...everyone here is dead..."
Skye looked around in horror, seeing the dead bodies of his comrades; he set the girl down and ran toward a window with a tight feeling in his chest, and cried at the sight down below.
The town was burning...everything burning to cinders. The pleading screams of the townsfolk, the crying and pleading of children...The terrified shrieks of soldiers and bandits alike, all being consumed by the flames. The sky was filled with musty gray smoke, orange-red light illuminating it.
The boy, knees shaking, stepped back from the scene outside. He stumbled back to Rammon, hardly able to contain his tears.
"W-why..." croaked the pain-stricken boy. "Why...did this happen...?"
Rammon took what strength and will he had left, and spoke again, one last time.
"A wicked man has done this. I never knew he would come here...looking for the key to the Demon world..." Grasping Skye's hand he continued; "That girl you have with you...she is our last hope...please, keep her safe from the enemy...keep her safe...from him..."
With those last words uttered, Rammon slowly shut his eyes. The wrinkles and creases lining his worn face relaxed, his mind and soul satisfied, ready for lasting rest.
Skye, steadily regaining his courage, silently vowed to protect the young maiden he had found by chance...or fate, whichever one had decided to drop by. The boy took Rammon's arms, crossing them over his chest, which was a way to show respect for the dead if there was no place available to give a proper burial. Skye wished that he could have done so for all of his fellow bandits, but time was running short; the fire had now spread to the very room he was in, and his only option was to use the window as an exit.
So he rushed to lift the girl, securely holding on to her legs and having her arms hang loosely, at least, around his neck, so that she would not slip. He jogged back over to the window, and after breaking through the glass with a strong kick, he stepped up onto the sill, and leapt forward.
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V:

The little boy opened his eyes, and stared straight into a campfire. The heat was warm and soothing on his cold, rain-soaked-to-the-bone body. He eagerly reached out his aching hands toward the flame, but felt them being pushed away by another hand. The boy gasped, turning his head to see a grizzly bear of a man. He had hair from the roots of his head to the tip of his chin, with bushy eyebrows and a long, fuzzed mustache, making it difficult to tell his expression.
The man mumbled something in a language that the boy could not interpret, but after he spoke he handed the boy a bowl with a tantalizing smell wafting from it. The half-starved boy took the bowl, and greedily slurped up the delectable stew inside it. When he had finished, he looked up at the man, trying to find the words to say "Thank you." But the man shook his head, and, somehow knowing that the boy could not speak his language, pointed to himself and said, "Stanley."
The little boy then understood, and plucking up courage he too, pointed at himself, proudly exclaiming, "Skye!"
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The sixteen-year-old shuddered. This memory of meeting Stanley for the first time caused quiet tears to streak his cheeks on his already tear-stained face. Stanley was gone, and so were the other bandits. There was no one left.
He realized that he was still here, still alive. Why? Where was he? Then he remembered the girl; the waif-like maiden whom he had found inside of the castle tower. What happened to her?
Skye was lying on his side, and so got up to get a clearer idea of where he was. The sea stretched out before him, his toes caked with yellow sand, and rocky inlets jutting out in the distance gave away the location. He was outside of Tu'ual, near the arched cliff the Pluto was settled in. The ship was still anchored in the shadows of the looming rocks, swaying ever so slightly as the ocean waters rippled and splashed against it. The boy started towards the vessel, wondering if the girl had taken refuge there.
As he shuffled his bare feet through the sand, he averted his eyes from the direction the town and where the village once stood. Those places were nothing more than piles of smoldering ash, the last wisps of the thick smoke rising into the bright blue sky. He quickened his pace, darting straight to the ship.
The rope-woven ladder hung off the side, which piqued Skye's curiosity. Was there someone besides the girl he had rescued up on deck? After all, she could not have easily made it up without someone throwing down the ladder. He scrambled up the ropes, and lifted himself over the side and onto the hard, wooden floor. Looking around, he saw no one, but the unmistakable smell of fried rice floated, making his stomach growl ferociously. He followed the scent down below deck, into the kitchen where the food was stored. The boy cried out when he saw a familiar figure relaxed on the floor, with a bowl of the hot fluffy grain in his lap.
"Deacon! What happened, how did you get here?!"
The young bandit shoveled a forkful of the food into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. He seemed to have had sustained injuries; some bruises along his forearms and burns streaking his cheeks were visible. The wounds had not been treated, so Skye asked if he was "alright".
"...Alright?" said Deacon, lowering his fork. "Do you really think that I'm alright?"
"Well..." Skye started to say. "I...I don't know..."
"You know damn well what I'm feeling!!" Deacon slammed his fist on the floor, standing up. "If we hadn't been fooling around, doing all that shit, following Rammon, that guard wouldn't have caught us and warned the rest of the elite! Your goddamn plan killed Rammon!"
"Then who started the fire?!" Skye retorted angrily, "Would Brenne Shal's soldiers destroy their own property,?! Would they?!"
Deacon's infuriated expression loosened. He was listening, so Skye continued:
"The Captain of the Guard is dead, Deacon. I saw Stanley, Rammon...and the others are gone too. The elite didn't kill them--the elite themselves had already been killed."
"Then who killed them?!"
"I...I don't know. All I know...is that--"
Again, Skye reminded himself of the girl. Calmly he said to Deacon, "Did you see a pale-looking girl around here at all?"
"What? You mean Miss Orange Hair?"
"Orange...?"
Deacon headed toward the door, saying, "C'mon. I'll show you where she is."
Skye obediently followed, and pondered how to explain what Rammon had said to him. Perhaps he should say nothing; then again, he could not let his friend believe that the king of Brenne Shal's own men destroyed Tu'ual. Once they found the girl, he decided, he would explain it in the best way that he could.
The boys climbed down the rope ladder, and Deacon pointed up to the summit of the highest cliff eastward. "She's up there," he said, "I don't know how she could have gotten up there, as weak as she seemed. Do you want to go check on her?"
"Yeah," replied Skye. "I hope she isn't hurt..."
Perplexed as to what Skye had anything to do with the strange girl, he continued forward and led the young boy to the base of the cliff. It was carved in an upward slope, lined with jagged boulders and a few scraggy shrubs wilting under the sun. The boys made their way up, occasionally hopping over a large rock here and there. Upon reaching the top, the girl was found.
Skye could now see how Deacon had given her that nickname; her long, flowing locks were as orange as the skin of the actual fruit, with hints of red and brown adding to the gorgeous glow that brightly shone. She was sitting on one of the smaller boulders, gazing dreamily out into the open sky above. She still had the white sheet wrapped around her body, tied in a knot around her chest.
Deacon stayed put where he was, but Skye shyly approached the maiden. Before he could utter a word, the girl turned to look up at him, as if she was expecting him.
The blue-haired boy said, plucking up courage:
"H-hello. I was just wondering if...you were okay."
The girl said nothing; instead she stood up, and gestured at Deacon (who apparently was not good at being unnoticeable.) She looked at Skye again, and then he seemed to understand what she was trying to ask.
"Oh...well, that's Deacon," he said as Deacon stepped out and came up to them. "And...I'm Skye."
The girl nodded in acknowledgment. Then the boy added, "What's your name?"
She remained silent, lowering her head, somewhat afraid. Deacon helpfully spoke up, "It's fine. You don't have to say anything. We're just here to help you--we don't want to hurt you. Right now we're making plans for what we want to do next, so all we're asking of you right now is that you come down from this cliff and to the ship with us. Aren't you hungry? You can eat while he and I figure things out. Whaddaya say?"
The shy girl hesitated, but nodded. The boys offered to help escort her down, and she took Skye by the hand as he led her down the cliff-side. It was a somewhat slow process, for she struggled to pull herself over a couple of the boulders, even with Skye's help. By the time the pair had come to the foot of the cliff, Deacon had already been waiting for them there. They all headed back towards the ship, and while they walked Skye continued the discussion from earlier.
"...Rammon said that I have to protect this girl. He also said that I have to protect her from 'him',"
"Who's him?" Asked Deacon.
"I have no clue...but...whoever this guy is, I know he's the one who burned Tu'ual."
"...Are you sure?"
"Yes! It's the only explanation we've got."
Just then they were approaching the rope ladder on the ship. It seemed that it would be too difficult for the weak girl to climb. Deacon offered to carry the girl up, but Skye objected.
"Hey! I'll do it. I can carry her up faster." I won't let Deac show off this time.
Skye quickly scooped up the girl in his arms and took a running leap, rocketing high up over twenty feet until he landed smoothly on the wooden deck. For a moment he was proud of himself, but realized after a moment that he was still holding the girl (who looked rather surprised at his amazing feat.) He gently let her down, and she gave him a small bow of thanks.
Deacon had made it up and was standing behind the blue-haired boy. After telling the girl where the rice was, he waited until she had gone to the kitchen before he tackled Skye to the floor.
"Gyahh!!" Skye yelled as he was being pinned down, "I'm not gonna say sorry!!"
"Well you better before I decide I wanna twist your scrawny little arms off!! You haven't let me help her out one bit--"
"You don't need to! There are tons of other girls out there that would be plenty excited to meet you and have you be their rescuer, or something. Don't ruin this chance for me!"
"Ha!" scoffed the bandit, "How do you expect to have a hope in the world with her if she won't even tell you her name?"
He let Skye go free, and the boy knew that his "rival" was right.
"Yeah..." he said, "I'm just supposed to protect her. There's no use trying to make her a catch, right?"
"Sorry. I just think that we have other things to worry about right now..."
Skye nodded in agreement, and so doing they both sat down to discuss.
---------------------------------------
"I should probably tell you what happened to me back at the castle," said Deacon. "You know, when I was fighting that elite?"
"Yeah. How did you get out of there?"
"Well, after you left, the soldier managed to break my not-so-handy butcher knife, and was about to chase after you. But I threatened him:
'Don't leave just yet buddy!' I said, 'if you don't finish me now, I just might use me "secret weapon" to call the rest of my buddies to raid this palace. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"At first, he didn't believe me; but as I started to reach into my pocket for this 'secret weapon,' he began to take me seriously."
'All right,' he said to me, in his stupid, refined tone of a stupid voice, 'I do not think that scrawny little brat that escaped me could do anything to harm the Captain anyhow. I shall do as you request, and finish you here, you thieving filth.'
"I wondered why he didn't think that the Captain of the Guard wasn't safe. I realized that he didn't know that Rammon's group had already broken in; and so I took advantage of the situation."
"'Well, then, fight me!' I exclaimed, in all my bad-assery. 'I can still take you on!'"
"That big, ugly, clunky bastard laughed at me, still trying to make himself sound sophisticated while cracking up, and that was my chance to strike. All along, I had another knife, a real one, tucked away under my shirt, attached to my belt buckle (clever me.) Not being as quick as a certain someone I know, I executed a sloppy, but damaging strike to his sword arm. I injured him pretty badly, but in exchange I got this cut, right here." Deacon pointed at his left arm; a cut not too deep had been engraved into his flesh.
"We almost locked weapons again, but a bright light coming from the windows caught our attention. Then, as if he didn't even notice me anymore, the elite rushed up to one of the windows, and yelled out something like, 'No!! This cannot be!! Everything is burning!! I must hurry to my comrades!!'
"And without another look at me, he left. I was shocked too, and wondered if he was just trying to trick me. But then...I looked out...and realized that he was dead-on."
Deacon slumped against the mast, his head down. "When I had made it outside, I tried to save them...you know, our 'mates. But they were already gone...All gone. I don't know if you saw, but they all died protecting the townspeople...I never saw what happened to the village, but after waking up this morning and seeing that pile of ashes, I knew. I'm sure you knew too, Skye..."
The blue-haired boy felt Deacon's sadness, his grief. But he had to make sure of something;
"Deacon...so do you believe me now?"
The bandit nodded. He felt that since he could not think of any logical explanation for it, he wouldn't deny that Tu'ual was burned to the ground by a force, a power that he had never heard of. It was something that neither of them could fathom, but at that moment one thing was agreed upon between them;
"I want to find the one who did this to us...to everyone," said Skye.
"I'm with you," said Deacon. The boys stood, and immediately prepared to set sail. With no clear destination or thought, the journey ahead would be rough indeed.
---------------------------------------
An hour later, around midday, the Pluto was making its way north, still near the coast but far enough away as to not attract any unwanted attention. Deacon was made captain (of course,) and Skye was the right-hand man. It had been Deacon's dream to be leader of the bandits of Tu'ual; however, Skye and himself being the only two remaining members, the position gave him somewhat of an empty feeling. He had always known that someday Rammon would pass on, and leave his position as leader to the young man; but he had also hoped that he would have been granted the honor of leading the whole gang, and instead of mourning their leader, celebrating his acknowledgeable, accomplished life. That dream had been snatched away from Deacon, and though he knew that Skye would do his best to fill the space that had manifested, it would never feel exactly the same way.
The "Captain" had a magnetic compass at his side and a tattered, water-worn map spread out in front of him. He glanced at each one every so often, already fixed on a destination. But he had his mind on something else too, and felt inclined to ask Skye about it. The lad had just finished loading the cannons (skinny he was, but that never stopped him,) so while he took a break by leaning against the mast, Deacon called to him;
"Hey, cannon boy!"
"So that's my new nickname, huh?"
"Well I wasn't gonna call you by that weird-ass title you gave yourself!"
"Oh, so 'Right Hand Man Skye' is weird?"
"Yeah! It's so plain. You just half-assed it."
"Well then, you try! Give me a title!"
"How about...'Skye the Blue-Headed Half-Assing Weirdo?"
Skye shot up to Deacon and shook his fist. "Dammit Deac!" He said, "I'm changing the subject! What did you want from me, anyway?"
Deacon grinned widely; then it loosened as he said, "You still haven't told me anything much about that girl. Are you sure that having to protect her is all you know?"
"Yeah...I can't get her to say anything much."
"Maybe she speaks a foreign language?"
"I don't think so. Whenever I ask her if she needs something, she understands and points to whatever she wants. I think that she's just not ready to talk yet. I mean, I found her locked up in a tower, alone and shivering. She was probably feeling traumatized already...maybe we just need to wait"
Deacon nodded in agreement. "Where is she now?" He asked.
"Still down below...I don't wanna force her to come out if she doesn't want to."
Skye leaned in front of Deacon to get a look at the map he was holding.
"Did you figure out where we're going yet?"
"Yeah. We're heading north, and once we land, we're gonna head to the Capital."
"You mean Namen?"
"Yep. "
"But that's so far! It'll take weeks to get there!"
Deacon shoved the complaining boy out of the way. "Quit your whining! If we wanna find out who was behind the burning of Tu'ual, then scouring for rumors is the only thing we can do right now; and city gossip's the best way to find a clue. Plus, there'll be villages to stop at along the way, so it's not like we'll be walking nonstop."
Skye scratched his chin in contemplation. "I guess that's true, but--"
Before Skye could finish, the orange-haired girl came bursting through the door, dashing over to and looking out the side of the ship at the open waters. She quickly shifted her head, searching, and then stood completely still. If her hair had not been fluttering helplessly in the ocean breeze, one could have mistaken her for a statue. Skye ignored Deacon for the moment, and jumped down to see what the matter was.
He walked up to her, curiously looking at her face; her eyes were fixed firmly on a certain spot up ahead. He wondered if it was an island, but other than the long string of coast they were following from a distance, there was no other land to be seen.
Skye had already given up on questioning for the time being, so that was not an option; though he was in surprise for a moment when she suddenly grabbed his arm. Skye's reflex was, of course to ask what was wrong, and he did, with no verbal response from her. However, he noticed that her eyes were fixated on the water, as if she were expecting something to jump out.
And jump out it did.
A colossal sea snake emerged from the watery deep, it's lizard-like head and beady, red eyes open, staring at the tiny figures gasping in horror. It stretched out straight up, until it completely towered over the ship. It raised its head high, giving an ear-piercing, high-pitched cry.
Skye wanted to cover his ears, for the roar of the creature was deafening. But the poor girl was frightened; he held onto her and quickly moved out of the way. He carried her to a cabin door, told her to hide, and then he rushed over to Deacon.
"Deac!!" Yelled the boy, "How the HELL do we get away from this thing?!"
"We have to sail to the beach! But I need a distraction! Help me out!!"
Skye would never have even fathomed before Tu'ual fell that he would have to fight a sea creature, but now it was different. Skye nodded, drawing his blades. He would need a tactic to battle the monster.
The serpent's body stretched high, but only as high as the crow's nest settled on the mast. The only chance Skye had of being able to hurt the creature was to get to its head, for the body of the sea snake was covered in scales harder than diamonds. I'll climb to its head, and stab the thing's eyes out!
Skye swiftly darted up the wooden mast, his feet perfectly balanced. He hopped into the crow's nest, and was face-to-face with the snake. The monster bared its fangs, its mouth wide open. Flecks of spit flew out, and to Skye's surprise the slimy saliva dissolved whatever it landed on!
"Woah!" The boy side-stepped out of the way as the gooey acid landed on a part of the nest, the wood disintegrating and giving way to a hole. Half of the platform was now gone, and Skye was panicking.
Dammit dammit dammit!
But then he noticed the monster shut its jaws, and slowly lower its head.
Now's my chance!!
Skye jumped off, crouching in mid-air, ready to land atop the flat, scaly head of the serpent. Unfortunately, his landing was not as smooth as he had hoped; the shiny slick scales caused him to slip as soon as his feet had set. But as he did, the creature lifted its head once again, and Skye was able to grab hold of one of the glowing green scales. One of the monster's eyeballs rolled back to see what tiny, mortal insect had managed to cling on. Skye then saw his opportunity; and with his left hand he raised his dagger and made a downward stroke, slashing the gazing eye of the sea snake.
The great serpent screeched, thick, blue monster blood gushing, its head flailing wildly in attempt to shake off the boy. Skye frantically tried to hold on--failed to cling on to the creature--he was falling--
And then there was a woosh of air, and hands had grabbed hold of his arm. He was carried away , so fast that he had barely caught a glimpse of the demolished Pluto sinking into the blue.
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Chapters 1-3

2008-07-08T05:16:48Z

Here are the first three chapters. If there are questions, don't hesitate to ask. Don't hesitate to comment, either, whether you want to tell me I'm doing a good or that I'm doing a bad job.

The Chronicles: Angelicus

BY:

~Winsom~

In the future, two countries named Brenne Shal, the land of the East, and Wika, the land of the West, rivaled for power over the Northern land of Lia-Manien. The rulers of the two countries constantly made threats to abolish their peace treaty, and in doing so made the people who lived in each country fearful and full of anger and hatred for the opposing country. This enmity that formed itself in the people sprouted and gave birth to a terrifying war, one unlike any other that had taken place before.
Small villages with innocent people were on the verge of falling into the chaos, and in one small island near the eastern coast of Wika, untainted by the bloodshed, lived a young boy...
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I

Palm trees swayed with the always gentle, always peaceful wind that blew across the island. Ocean waves crashed upon cliffs on high ground, while other waves just stretched along the white-sand beach, shrinking back when they had reached their limit.
Inside one of the many wooden houses with palm-leaf thatched roofs sitting on wooden decks built several feet above the ground, sleeping with a thin blanket over his head, was a blue-haired boy. He had been asleep for some hours late into the morning; the sounds of the ocean outside were a lullaby, soothing him into his deep slumber. But he knew sooner or later he would have to wake, for Rammon would come for him anyway. So, after stretching his arms outward, yawning, Skye ruffled his turquoise-blue hair and hopped out of bed.
"Ahhhhhhh...." he exhailed. "'Hope I'm not late for another meeting with the guys...I better get dressed."
Out of all the things left in the abandoned home of a villager, or a number of them who had once lived there, Skye had found a large wooden chest the most useful. He kept what little clothing items he had in it: a vest, some tattered shorts with a belt to strap around them, his beaten-up sandals, and some socks to wear when the months grew chilly.
Still a bit groggy he shuffled across the floor to the chest, kicked it open, and grabbed his garments. He quickly slipped everything on (except for the socks--winter was still months away,) and bolted out the front door just a few feet from his hammock-bed.
Outside he relished the cool breeze, gulping breaths of air. He scanned the beach, glimpsing at the palm trees, the patches of grass, and then the rocky cliffs that lied on the far western side of the island. It was at the top of those cliffs where which he needed to be at the moment.
"Well crap," he said to himself. "I don't wanna work to make up for being late. Oh man..."
And a blinding blue streak shot up into the cliffs, in the blink of an eye; he ran faster than the speed of sound, his mates often calling him "Bullet." Even to himself, this amazing ability was a mystery.
So in mere seconds he was at the height of the cliffs overlooking the small island. He screeched to a stop, clumsily but well enough to not accidentally skid over the side of the ocean-carved formation, and jogged a little further up to find his group; the infamous bandits of Tu'ual. .
The leader of the bandits, Rammon, was a heavyset man with dark eyes, scruffy long gray hair and a fluffy old man's mustache (and a demeanor that never quite gave anyone a good first impression.) He did not take notice of Skye until the lad was crouching in front of him, an eager grin spread on his face.
"Rammon!" said Skye. "What are our plans for today?"
One of the other bandit members, Deacon, a man with shoulder-length hair the color of dirt with a bit of orange splashed on it, grabbed Skye by the collar of his vest and yanked him backwards--nearly pushing the boy into the fire pit that was currently heating breakfast. Deacon firmly held Skye by the tattered collar of his vest and scolded;
"If you wanted to know so much, you should've been here earlier for the meeting like you were supposed to!"
Deacon was taller, stronger, five years older, and he had the position as Rammon's right-hand man. So often he would show off his authority by picking on Skye. The blue-haired boy was the youngest of the gang, and what he wanted most often was Rammon's--and everyone else's--respect.
Unfortunately, the lad made the mistake of retaliation;.
"Yeah? Well I can't even count how many times I've seen YOU late!"
Deacon reacted, throwing Skye face down in the dirt, and was ready to give him a lecture. But their short scuffle was interrupted by the laughter of the other bandits, including the hearty bellow made by Rammon himself. Rammon's loud guffaws were enough to embarrass both Skye and Deacon, so they both separated. Skye sat down in a patch of grass inside of the bandit gang's circle, and listened as Rammon explained to him the plan they had decided on earlier that morning;
"Alright, if you wanna hear it that bad, then I'll tell ya. Don't fight with Deacon over it; he'd clobber your scrawny hide anyway."
As the bandits chuckled, Skye scowled at Deacon. They all began to chew on grilled fish while Rammon continued;
"You know how soldiers from Brenne Shal's capital took over Tu'ual, and their country's king built a fancy-shmancy castle there? Well, inside that castle is all of the money that was cheated out of Tu'ual and several other villages when taxes were raised. The king of Brenne Shal and his soldiers use that place to hold the king's fortune, but also as a sorta 'getaway' from the battles raging on in their own country."
Skye, as well as everyone else, despised Brenne Shal's king. Theseles Morion, had Wika in a pressured state, for it was said that the king of Wika, Paleneus Oselon, was gravely ill. If Wika's king were to die, then Brenne Shal would have control, and property rights to the unkown land of Lia-Manien. Skye had always thought that creating war over a land that no one knew about was selfish, even though his own country was involved. Nevertheless, he would die fighting for Wika; it was the only home he had ever known.
"So," said Rammon, "We are to get into Tu'ual, and infiltrate the palace that mindless, greedy pig king Theseles has built for hisself. We're gonna take back the money stolen from Tu'ual, and all of the poorest villages in Wika, and give it back to the people, with whom it belongs!"
Rejoicing, the other bandits along with Deacon gave a cheer that served as the words to their one mission:
"Defend Tu'ual! Defend Tu'ual to the end!"
After exclaiming their statement of the freedom so embedded in their hearts, the bandits poured each other's drinks from a single bottle and took a swig of the alchohol. But Skye could only sit on the little green spot; silent, heart beating with contained excitement.
-------------------------
Later in the day the bandits made preparations to set sail to Tu'ual's village. They would travel in the cover of night to stay hidden, assuming that Brenne Shal's Captian of the Guard sent out ships to patrol the waters outside the village.
Skye could be seen down by the shores of the island, lounging around, leaned against a palm tree. As if the breeze blowing was not cool enough, the tree's lengthly fronds cast a comfortable shadow on the boy. He sighed, impatient to set off.
Meanwhile Deacon was lifting heavy bags of cooking rice; Rammon insisted that if the plan was delayed, for one reason or another, they should take the time to stock up on commodities for a longer stay.
Skye turned his head and, seeing Deacon walk by with a heavy bag of rice,, called out to him:
"Hey! Are you finished loading yet?! We should get going now!"
Deacon's attention was caught . He called back, angrily:
"You lazy bastard! Get up and do some work! We'd have set sail damn sooner if you had helped us a bit!"
Skye sprang up from his position, aggravated. "What?!" he yelled, "I've already loaded five bags of rice and nearly all the weapons! Quit nagging, you she-man-hag-wife-son-of-a-cat!"
Deacon decided to drop their short-lived conversation (but only after refraining from strangling the little bastard;) he just grunted and concentrated on his task. Skye kicked over a mound of sand, and then leaned on the palm tree's slender trunk. All he had to do now was to wait until Rammon gave the signal that the ship was ready to set sail.
------------------------
"Hey, blue boy! Time to go, Rammon said ship's ready!"
Skye was shaken awake by fellow bandit, known as Stanley. The sun's last rays were waning as the night sky was beginning to show, and stars were faintly appearing, twinkling. The boy sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then stood up and started following Stanley to the deck of the Pluto. It was a medium-sized vessel, but it was large enough to hold a crew of over a hundred men, with many cabin rooms above and below deck to hold them. The ship's great mast stood tall and steadfast, holding the ropes that kept up the large crimson colored sails, as well as a lofty crow's nest for a lookout. The front end had a massive cannon attached; it could catapult cannonballs of steel and iron at one-hundred-fifty miles per second, capable of causing much destruction to an enemy ship. Of course, there was the wheel used to pilot the ship's course, and the only person who had control of that task was Deacon. Rammon considered him trustworthy enough to take care of it, and when Rammon died in battle (he refused to perish any other way; to him, it was the most honorable way to die,) Deacon would take charge of not only the Pluto, but its crew as well.
Skye climbed swiftly up a rope ladder dangling off the side of the ship, hopped aboard, and then rushed to see Rammon, who was standing beside Deacon up on the rear portion of the deck. He glared briefly at Deacon (who in turn glared back) and greeted the old leader.
"Hey! We sailin' now?" Skye said energetically, stretching his limbs and throwing fake punches at the air. "Are you gonna give me something to fight with, since we might be facing soldiers, maybe even an entire army?"
"Well, we'll see," said Rammon, a thoughtful look on his face. He was deeply in thought, which was unusual for his gruff and normally hearty and happy demeanor. Skye dropped his playful act, but his insides were tingling, longing for combat experience.
Rammon turned to Deacon and nodded, and he knew that it was time. Rammon then called out to his men, and ordered that the ship's anchor be raised and the sails be let out. A few bandits helped to turn the crank to lift the heavy anchor; A few more men, including Stanley, unhooked the ropes securing the sails, rolling them down. With a strong wind now blowing the sails fluttered and puffed out, ready to let the ship travel wherever the wind would pull it to. The ship slowly drifted away from the beach, and with Deacon's guidance was veering west to Tu'ual.
The crew was relishing the ocean air, the wind, the night sky. But Rammon had his mind elsewhere, and seeming even more troubled he went down below deck to his cabin. Meanwhile, Skye was talking with Stanley, a man in his mid-forties. He was a good friend to everyone in the gang; Skye admired him for his tales of when he and Rammon had first formed the bandits of Tu'ual. Adventures through the wild jungles far to the south; a journey that almost led them to a forbidden land of demons; battles with rival bandits who turned out to be assassins on a mission to kill the king of Wika...These stories and many others Skye never tired of hearing, and he hoped that someday he would go on even greater quests and fight even more perilous enemies than these. Now he felt that he was getting a chance to be a part of an important mission, one he would like to make a story of someday.
Stanley was tired after the long, laborious day, so he stood up from his spot in front of Skye and ruffled up his hair.
"G'nite, kiddo," he said, "Don't stay up too late thinkin' about t'morrow. Deacon might come over to pick on ya."
And he went into his cabin, leaving Skye alone on deck. The relaxed his muscles, and he thought about just curling up right there. But before he could barely shut his eyes, Deacon shouted:
"Hey numbskull! Rammon wants to see you in his cabin. You should go down there now."
Skye was confident; Rammon wants so see me for once? he thought, He must want me to do something important, or maybe he wants to give me a powerful weapon, or teach me a move, or make me in charge of something, or--damn, well whatever it is, he must have a good reason for wanting me!
With those hopeful thoughts in mind Skye walked over to the door leading down below deck, and into Rammon's quarters.
---------------------------------
The old bandit leader was ensconced on a cushioned chair, but despite feeling comfortable, he had a troubled mind. He patiently waited for Skye; that very second the boy was jogging down the stairs, then--
There was a knock on the door. Rammon told Skye to come in. He entered the room with a question, "What is it? Why did you wanna talk to me?"
"...Have a seat. I need to tell you somethin' important."
So Skye plopped down on the wooden floor in front of Rammon, eagerly awaiting to hear what he had to say. Rammon then reached over behind his back, and pulled out two things: a pair of daggers sheathed in leather sheaths on a belt, and a red bandanna. He handed them out to the boy, who was staring in disbelief. Skye, trembling with curiosity, took the items, and immediately thanked Rammon.
"What...why are you giving me these?" he said, slowly pulling out one of the daggers. He gasped, for he had seen nothing like those weapons before; the hilt on each blade was engraved with symbols and writing completely alien to him. The blades themselves were made of a material that emitted a glow eerily similar to the northern lights, and shimmering different colors that he had never seen. He was filled with awe; how did Rammon get a hold of something like this?
Rammon spoke, and Skye snapped out of his wonderment-trance.
"You're wondering where those came from, and how I got them," said the old bandit, "And I won't deny you the truth. Ten years ago, when Stanley found you cold and drenched t' the bone in the rain, he brought you to us and I assumed that you were just another orphan made into by the battles over land in Wika, but we were mistaken. You were carrying these things with you, and as soon as we realized your strange hair color, and the even stranger weapons, we knew you were different.
"But 'twas only after you showed us your talent, your 'ceptional speed, it came to me; you're from another world."
All of this was very sudden; to Skye, it was more surprising than he had hoped.
"A...another...world?" said the boy, looking back and forth between the weapons, and the bandit leader. "I still don't understand...how could I be from another world?"
Rammon was finding this more difficult to tell than he thought it would be. He knew that Skye would not understand right away. Nevertheless he continued:
"...Every night after that day, you cried over the names of your family in a language I couldn't understand. After a while you talked in your sleep in our speech, about the day you would go back to save your family, and return to your planet. That was how I knew; and eventually you forgot all that, and you got used to stayin' with us.
"I've been wantin' t' say this for a long time...I'm gettin' old, and I just wanted to have this talk with you now, before I die someday in battle. Now don't say anything; just go and think about what I've said. That's all I want you to do right now. S' go and git to bed now; we got a mission t' do t'morrow!"
Skye took the weapons, and the bandanna, and silently went back upstairs.
On deck he rested against the mast, unable to close his eyes. He fastened the belt with the twin daggers around his waist, and carefully tied the bright blood-red bandanna around his forehead, his long bangs now loosely hung over it.
These were the only things he had left from a time and place that seemed now long erased from his memories.
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II:

The Pluto drew closer and closer to Tu'ual, which lied on the very eastern edge of the Wikian continent. Deacon had been piloting the ship without a compass; no matter where the crew was, he could always find Tu'ual, even if he were on the other side of the world, of Gaia. So this instinct of his made him the most reliable person in the crew when it came to navigation.
As he flipped the wheel left and right, staying on course, he noticed the first rays of the sun peeking out on the horizon, giving the sky a faint glow, almost the color of purple mist. The destination was almost reached, for just ahead were the shores on the northeastern side of the island, where Rammon had said was the best place to sneak in without being detected by ships of Brenne Shal's Navy crew. Twenty minutes later, Deacon could see that there were no other ships in sight, other than some fishing boats tied up to a small docking area.
Earlier, Skye had taken over another bandit's position as lookout, and he was high above the mast inside the crow's nest. Noticing Skye's position, Deacon called;
"Hey blue boy! Do ya see a good spot we can anchor?"
Grumbling but without complaint, Skye used his keen eyesight to pick out a place that was well hidden, but easily found by their own members. After a minute of careful searching he shouted back to Deacon;
"I see a place near a low cliff arch near the fishing boat dock. Ninety degrees North to the shore from there."
"Good! Now go wake up the rest of those lazy bastards would ya?"
Stepping over the side of the little enclosure that was the nest, Skye grabbed onto the mast, and digging in with his feet he nimbly scuttled down to the deck. This little maneuver made him seem almost cat-like, swiftly running down a tree trunk. A few feet from the bottom he jumped off, landing somewhat clumsily almost face first onto the deck. But he got right back up, and went down below deck to wake the sleepy bandits and their leader.
He ran to a large room, the floor wet and slippery from some loose water that had splashed through from the outside. He took care not to slip, and then yelled at the top of his lungs, "RISE AND SHINE PEOPLE!! WE'VE MADE IT TO TU'UAL!!"
And every bandit was now fully awake; hearing that they had arrived at the village perked their spirits. They all leapt out from their cots, hammocks and blankets, excitedly running upstairs while pushing and shoving the young lad out of the way.
"Hey--Watch it--Stop--Wait for me--!!" The trampled-on Skye trudged upstairs last in line after the others.
He nearly passed by Rammon's quarters, and coming to a halt at the door he gave it a few knocks. No answer. He tried again, this time calling Rammon's name. Still there was no answer.
I guess he's still thinking about last night, the boy thought.
Assuring himself, Skye headed on upstairs. The sun was now fully shining, and they were already anchored at the spot under the arched cliff, creating a good cover in the shadows.
"Hey Deacon!" Skye called, "Nice spot you picked!"
"But you picked it!" Deacon corrected.
"Yeah, but you didn't crash her or anything. You're a good pilot!"
"Pilots fly airships, idiot!"
Skye just laughed out loud, in a happy mood; not even thoughts from the night before could have dampened his high spirits.
----------------------------
Everyone (even Skye) worked laboriously to carry some of their supplies and weapons, including those they planned to give out to the villagers in Tu'ual. Rammon had finally come out of his cabin to give directions, and as soon as everyone was ready to head into town, they set off.
Most were discussing and imagining the success of their mission as they trudged down the sandy path. Skye and Deacon each carried two full sacks of rice, talking about their so certain victory over the enemy country.
"I sure don't really wanna have to take sides," Skye said, "But I'm tired of watching our fellow countrymen suffer at our enemy's hand."
"Yeah," said Deacon, "Cheating poor villages out of their money by raising taxes that were supposed to go towards rebuilding them, and making them better places for people to live...and instead that greedy bastard king Theseles just took it all for himself and his army..."
"And," added Stanley, who also walked with them, "They say it's all for the sake of the war over the forbidden land. No one really even knows what that place really is, or what's in it, but for some reason, that's what this whole thing's been all about."
Skye and Deacon agreed, and began to ponder it over;
Just what was in the forbidden land? Why were two once peaceful countries now engulfed in war and bloodshed fighting over it? These were the questions that no one could answer, but everyone thought about them nevertheless.
A little ways down the path, a man with two children, both little girls, were on their way back home after fetching water from an underground wellspring. Skye looked on ahead; when he saw them he called out, waving his arms wildly in the air. The man and his children waved back, and when the bandits caught up to them, Rammon and the man shook hands and greeted each other warmly. The man was the head of the village in Tu'ual, and he and his family knew Rammon's group well.
"So Rammon! You've finally come back for a visit!"
"Yes, we all have. I've been looking forward to seeing you and the village again, Joseph. And..."
The next few words Rammon spoke were barely murmured; Skye couldn't catch them. But after speaking to Joseph, Rammon beckoned at the other bandits to continue and come along; they would follow Joseph and his two little girls back to the village. Skye jogged up to the girls, and they both cried out with joy.
"It's Skye! It's Skye! He's come to see us!" shrieked Katta, a curly brown-haired girl in delight. "Yeah! Skye's come to play with us!" cried Rumi, younger but with the same hair as her sister's.
"Now now girls," said Skye, explaining to them, "There's a very special, important job that the the gang and I have to do after we visit. I won't be able to play today."
"Aw!" said the first girl, "What about uncle Deacon? Can't he play with us?"
"Sorry Katta, Rumi. We can't play at all today."
The youngsters then put on their best puppy-eyed faces, with big bubbly teardrops forming. Skye laughed, quite convinced now by their playful-begging act.
"Well, maybe just a little bit...you guys want a piggy-back ride?"
"Yeah! Yeah!"
Skye scooped up the two children into his arms, and they both scrambled to get on his shoulders. He held on to the girls and the rice bags tightly, and with a quick nod at their father he took off, blazing down the path.
Deacon sighed next to Stanley, saying, "Man, if I knew he could run that fast with something heavy like that, I would've had him carry my stuff."
Stanley chuckled. "Well, that kid's got one hell of a talent there; his speed. I would even say it's some kind of power, a gift from God."
"Hmm...well, I think he's just a showoff. But I gotta admit...he sure knows how to treat people."
Deacon thought of the compliment Skye had given him earlier. He shrugged, flipped his hair back out of his eyes, and then he continued on with the rest of the group.
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"Woah! Hee hee!"
"Skye we're here!"
"Alright! I'm gettin' ready to stop!"
Skye stomped his feet, sliding and skidding to a halt. He almost slid into a house; fortunately he came to a halt in time, quickly jumping to the side to avoid it. Past the greeting sign outside an open gate that proclaimed "Welcome all!" he let the girls down. They both giggled excitedly, begging Skye to take them running through the forest a few miles away.
"Sorry girls," he said, "I gotta wait for the rest of the gang to get here. I know, you could go home and tell your mom that grandpa Rammon and his buddies are comin' to see you all."
"Okay! See you later Skye!"
And the girls dashed over to a nearby home, a one story building, made of bricks and with a tiled roof. The other houses in the village were similar; some smaller, and some with rooms added on for other families to stay in. Skye was familiar with the people living inside these homes, and he was eager to see them all again. But for now he had to wait for the rest of the group to arrive, though he did not have to wait long; he could already see the other bandits and the village head just a little ways away.
The boy leaned up against the wall of a solid stone house--a rare thing to see in most small villages--and patiently waited for the bandit gang. He fiddled with his items in the meantime, adjusting his bandanna, shaking the sand out of his sandals, and carefully unsheathing one of the mysteriously crafted daggers. At first he just stared at it, his eyes entranced by the unknown metals used to forge the weapon. Now that it was daylight, the shimmering, mystifying colors were even more strangely beautiful to look at. After a minute or two, he gripped the hilt of the blade, raised and pointed it out straight ahead.
Maybe I should practice with it, he thought. I haven't used a weapon like this before. I need a target.
The village was settled near the beach, so the ground was flat and dry, all swept up with sand. The forest areas and the town near the castle were too far for Skye to go wandering off just yet. Tu'ual was almost a bare place with no plants, except for the occasional palm tree.
So with not many choices for practice targets, Skye said to himself that he could always practice some other time--that night, perhaps, when the bandits reached the forest on the way to the castle. He slid the blade back into its leather sheath, just in time for the bandits' arrival.
Rammon and Joseph were leading the group, with Deacon following close behind. Skye, still carrying the rice bags slung on his back, went to greet them and told Joseph that his daughters were at home. The village chief nodded, and jogged over to the one-story building, grabbing a horn hanging on a hook on the front wall. He lifted the horn carved out of bone to his mouth, and a deep rumble rang out as he blew into it. The sound was loud and clear enough for everyone to hear it; villagers, some sleepy-eyed, a few grumbling, and some farmers that had long since been awake to tend the crops and their wives and children gathering water from an underground well, stepped out to see why their chief had summoned them. But the moment their eyes set on Rammon and the bandits of Tu'ual they gave a shout of joy. The now awakened villagers swarmed around the bandits, cheers and words of praise and welcome all around.
Sky looked puzzled; Deacon on the other hand was eagerly flexing his arms for the young lady admirers who had come to see him. Skye stared at him jealously as the ladies sighed and screamed over his buff physique and charm. Noticing Skye's envious leer, he swooped up one of the women into his arms and gracefully kissed her tender lips.
This was clearly a taunt, or so Skye thought. He directed an obscene gesture at Deacon, and stomped off to join the chat some of the bandits and Rammon were having with Joseph's family. Though over the noise of the crowd of villagers and other bandits, the boy could barely hear even Rammon speak:
"...Tonight...must discuss...setting off."
"Yes...the......castle."
It seemed that Rammon and Joseph were to have a meeting of some sort before heading off to the castle. Skye decided that instead of investigating with other people he would try to listen in on the conversation itself later on. For now, he would just prepare for the trip and visit with the friendly people…and forget about Deacon for the time being.
---------------------------
The bandits were treated to a fine welcome and an offer of hospitality by every villager, but the bandit gang insisted that the only place they all could stay at was the local inn; The Seasnake, home to the finest brew in the land. Despite the villager's kindness, the bandit group could not resist the most refreshing beer that no other pub or inn had to offer. So at the Seasnake the bandit's stayed, and that night there was a merry feast to motivate the upcoming mission--and to celebrate their certain success.
However, to Skye and Deacon it seemed that success was not so certain, for Rammon, their once confident and fearless leader seemed doubtful and troubled. Skye remembered the bits and pieces of Rammon and Joseph's earlier conversation. He knew they were going to discuss something later on, but he realized that he did not want to eavesdrop alone. As jealous and annoyed as he was at Deacon's previous flirting with the women, he had to tell someone about the discussion, so he reluctantly decided to speak to the self-absorbed ladies' man.
In the midst of the happy bandits, fat on meat and drunk on cold beer, Skye pushed through and stepped over his fellow mates and found Deacon half-asleep next to a table, his head lying on his right side. Upon a closer look Skye saw that Deacon too was drunk; the blue-haired boy kicked him over, knocking him off his chair. Deacon caught himself before he hit the floor, and standing up he shouted, his speech slurred;
"Wat da hell do ya want blueboy?! You wittle fweak I oughts ta--"
"Shut up Deac!" said Skye, grabbing his arm, "Rammon's gonna have some sort of talk with Joseph tonight, and I have a feeling it's something really important. I'm gonna listen in on them, and I want you to come with me."
"But I was asleep ya wittle bastard! Lemmie go back ta bed--"
"No! Now come on!"
Skye yanked on Deacon's arm, practically dragging him through the crowded inn. After a minute or so he let go of Deacon's arm, and he just followed Skye without protest. They snuck through an open door to the inn's back room unnoticed, and after passing by one room full of supplies they began to hear voices other than the cheery loud bandits back the other way. The voices came from a room just down the hallway, so the two boys quietly crept toward the doorway, and when they were barely a foot away from it, they knelt down and listened as Rammon and Joseph began to speak.
-------------------------------
Rammon and Joseph both sat on soft, decorated cushions, settled on the floor. The room was dimly lit by candles spread out, set against the corners of the room. A certain silence hung, one not even broken by the noise of the other bandits' jovial feasting. Joseph offered a pipe to smoke; Rammon accepted, taking the long glass tube and breathing a small puff of fragrant tobacco. He handed it back to the village head, and after a short pause he finally started;
"Joseph, my friend, my comrade, what have you to say of these dark times that are certainly upon us?"
"Ah..." replied Joseph, "I suppose you want more information on that treasure the king's keepin' locked up, no?"
"Yes." Rammon took the pipe from Joseph and again he smoked a little, letting the small gray puff flow out of his nostrils. Then he said, "I need to know if you found anything out this past year."
"I've got bits and pieces here and there. 'Hope it's satisfying enough."
"Of course it is. I need to know all I can."
"Alright then. I'll start by saying this; if you and your gang are headin' to Castle Shamel, then you either grab the treasure, or you overtake the place and take back everything that belongs to the people, as originally planned. Don't try for both. You'll only get yourself and the others killed."
Skye and Deacon were now scooting closer to the doorway, waiting to hear more about this "treasure" that was indicated.
"I understand your concern," said Rammon, "But the treasure being kept there will only give our opposing country the perfect chance to completely invade Wika. Not even our own king knows this, and you and I both know that he shouldn't. A thing like that locked up in Shamel has enough power to corrupt either side. If that happens, the whole world will suffer."
Joseph set down his pipe. He raised his head a little, speaking in a low tone. "And you want to know what the treasure has to do with the forbidden land, no?"
"Yes, now please tell me everything you know. And don't make me get off track again."
Joseph laughed, and he agreed, continuing;
"One of the last spies we had left went to eavesdrop on the Captain of the Guard, who has been staying at the castle for eight days. Our spy had sent us several messages, and his last letter arrived yesterday. There were many details, mostly about the enemy army's current condition, but the thing most important that was included was these words: 'The Key to Lia-Manien is hidden within the topmost chamber.' I suppose that meant the room in the highest part of the castle, but what was this about the treasure up there being 'The Key'? and what's this, 'Lia-Manien'?"
"I believe," said Rammon, "Lia-Manien is another name for the Forbidden Land. The Forbidden Land's true name was forgotten, but that p'ticular name has always been used, just not among us common folk."
Joseph chuckled, taking up his pipe again and having another puff. "Heh, you could say that again," he said, exhaling. "Forbidden Land's easier to remember."
After having a short laugh, it grew silent. Skye and Deacon were wide-eyed with fascination; and Skye whispered:
"You hear that Deac? If something that powerful gets in the hands of king Theseles, then we're all screwed!"
"Yeah," said Deacon, "I wonder why we can't just go and grab the treasure as well as take over the castle...it just don't make sense..."
"Let's just keep listening."
Joseph looked at Rammon, straight-faced.
"Just don't do anything reckless while you and the crew are in Shamel, you hear?"
There was a pause, creating some doubt inside of the village chief. But Rammon gave his word to his old friend, promising to fix his mind only on the mission that lay before his bandit crew. After the two old men took a last hit of tobacco from the pipe, Rammon stood, and walked toward the doorway.
Skye and Deacon quickly sprang up and sprinted back down the hallway to the bar. They barely made it in time to split up and go amongst the other bandits to mingle in. As Rammon walked into the room, the two boys behaved as if they hadn't even left the bar It was clear between them that the story about this strange treasure unknown to many was a mystery worth looking into.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

III

Rain lashed down on the boy as he aimlessly wandered. Shuffling his feet through the sand he struggled to keep from tripping. The cold droplets blurred his vision, and in his confusion he could not tell even right from left. He stumbled and staggered, until at last he collapsed, his face hitting the wet sand. Clutching the things that were given to him by ones he loved, he closed his eyes and waited for the storm to pass.
----------------------------
"Ah...!!"
"Skye! What is it, lad?"
Skye sat up, mumbling groggily, "Sorry, Stanley...it's nothin'...weird dream, that's all."
"Well then, Rammon says break-time's over. So get yourself together. We have to make it before sunrise."
"Oh...alright."
The night of Rammon and Joseph's discussion, a brief on the bandits' mission was announced, and they got their things together and set off. The group trekked across the dry fields, heading for the forest near the castle town Shamel. For six hours they walked until they finally made it; the path to the town established by the king of Brenne Shal and high-ranking officers of the Guard.
The town was formerly a part of Tu'ual; however, after war had been declared by the rival countries, the famous battle of the Tu'ual people took place. Brenne Shal's Captain of the Guard sent his third squad out to invade and gain control of the entire Wikan coastline. Thousands of troops sailed on battleships to the Southern, Western, and Eastern coast of the Wikan continent; the East coast being where Tu'ual was located. The proud seaside people had already made preparations for the attack, with over one thousand soldiers ready to defend their homeland. The five thousand enemy troops began their assailment, but the unexpected surprise of Tu'ual's own troops left them momentarily stunned. The bravery of Tu'ual's people had driven away the enemy. Unfortunately, four days later, the village and the town were ambushed by elite soldiers of the Guard, the town taken over and declared a state of Brenne Shal.
Because of this story, Skye admired Rammon and Stanley, for the battle of Tu'ual was led by them fifteen years before. The takeover of the town and various other villages inspired the forming of the Bandits of Tu'ual, and the mission of the bandit gang to free the helpless people was now soon going to be fulfilled.
Skye reminisced this tale in his mind, while drawing his daggers from the sheaths tied to his belt, swiftly slashing sideways and jabbing repeatedly at an invisible enemy soldier. Suddenly he felt a hard jab to his back, and noticing Deacon he turned to face him.
"Idiot," he said, "They already took off without us. Hurry up and move!"
Skye glared at Deacon, gently rubbing his shoulder blades. He nodded, sheathing his daggers and dashed off to get back within the group. In less than a second he had caught up. He turned back to face Deacon, who was now behind, and smirked, taking pleasure at the one thing he was able to do better at than his friendly rival.
Eventually Deacon caught up, and the two boys traveled along with the group together as if nothing had happened. They were the only ones other than Rammon who knew about the mysterious treasure, so they both made a notion to stick together for the time being.
Another two hours passed, and the group arrived at the outskirts of town. Even from behind the trees, the castle King Theseles' working servants had built was visible. On the outside it seemed a dreary building; a gray and gloomy place with guards stiffly standing at their posts all over. The town's colorful houses and shops seemed out of place near the drab-looking block of a palace.
"This is it," said Rammon, crouching low to the ground. Out of a large pack he carried he lifted a buttoned flap and took out a folded paper. He unfolded it, revealing a detailed map of the castle.
"Last night a spy sent a carrier pigeon with this castle blueprint," Rammon explained, laying it out flat on the ground. "Only a few of us will actually head inside--the rest will be needed to serve as a distraction to the guards posted nearby. And when I say 'distraction' I mean it; don't let anyone notice the team sneakin' inside.
"The people I need with me are good ol' Stan, Roberto, Malkian, and Goodwin. This team here'll worry about what's inside of the castle later, so the rest of you just make sure that we get in safe, 'right?"
The bandits all agreed, and the designated team members stepped forward, Stanley providing them with weapons. A small portion of food was to be taken by all the bandits, so that it could be provided to the people in town when the mission was successful. They all took dried meat, fruit, and rice and kept it in convenient pouches, tying them around their belts.
As the other bandits prepared, Skye grabbed Deacon's arm and led him behind a large berry bush. Crouching, he whispered;
"We aren't gonna be left behind. We have to get inside the castle."
"You're a bigger idiot than I thought!" Deacon whispered back angrily. "We can't disobey Rammon!"
"But we could help him!"
"How?! There are guards out there, armed ones. How do you think we're supposed to even get in? We'll be noticed by the soldiers and our own gang!"
"But we have to! I know we shouldn't abandon our comrades, but if we can get in there and find the treasure while Rammon and his group fights off the Captain of the Guard, we would have the right cards in our hands!"
"...You mean..."
"We can use the treasure's power to stop the bloodshed! Isn't that what you want? What everyone wants?"
Deacon fell silent for a moment. After some thinking, he stood up, saying;
"I do want the war to end...I'll go with you. But if we get caught, I'm lettin' 'em kill you first."
"Deal. Now c'mon, let's go."
They headed back to the group, and followed their team towards the town entrance. Once there, Rammon led the bandits around, calling each man by name and pointing out a position. Skye and Deacon were given posts next to a house near the castle gates--a perfect spot for the boys to carry out their own plan.
-----------------------
The moon cast its luminous gaze upon the town, scattering shadows in the nooks and crannies of alleyways and homes. Stray cats and wild animals from the forest roamed the streets, scrounging around for a meal. The people slept as the clock struck three, unaware of the bandits that were about to carry out their plan.
Stanley, Roberto, Malkian, and Goodwin stayed beside the old bandit leader, ready to give signals to other bandits standing nearby, including Deacon and Skye. Guards stood at every entrance, and the plan to act as decoys was top priority for bandits positioned near the castle gates, and others were set up to "silence" any other soldiers patrolling the area.
Skye impatiently stood behind one of the shops, waiting for Rammon's team to give the signal that they were heading in. A silence hung in the nighttime air, only to be broken by a lonely coyote's howl. The instant the beast raised its pitiful cry at the yellow orb, Rammon's team finally made their move. The five bandits stealthily shuffled through the grass that grew around the castle gates, moving towards the walls surrounding the gray building. Tall, leafy trees also circled the castle, and Rammon, taking a strong metal hook tied to a thickly woven rope off of his belt, twirled it high above his head a few times, hurling it at the thickest, highest tree branch. The metal hook latched on, digging itself in. Rammon pulled his heavy, but surprisingly agile body up the trunk, and in a few seconds he was settled at the top.
Down below and open-mouthed, Skye was watching Rammon as he gradually tiptoed over to Deacon's position in front of a flower shop. The boy silently crept up, and tapped Deacon lightly on the shoulder, whispering, "Hey! Did you see that?"
Deacon was not as happy to see Skye; "What the hell are you doing?! We're not going in yet, are we?"
"We will soon. I want to see what the other guys and Stanley are gonna do first. We don't want them to notice us."
"Blue boy, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you barely have a plan, and even if you did, it probably wouldn't be the most genius thing ever."
"So? All we have to do is watch and see where Rammon goes in, and after we wait a minute while everyone else is distracted, we sneak in! That doesn't sound hard, does it?"
"No. But I still think you're being a dumbass. Go back to your post and give me a signal when you think we're ready to go in."
Skye grinned confidently and quickly ran back to his post across the street. He peeked around the corner of the wall to see if Rammon had taken any other action; the bandit leader was still waiting for his chance to alert the others.
Time seemed to drag on as everyone waited. Barely ten minutes had passed, but it was all that Skye could take. He was about to step out from behind the wall, when suddenly a chill wind blew. The impatient boy tried to hold it in with every single fiber and bit of flesh in his face; he struggled and covered his nose--
And then he sneezed.
If not for the stillness of everything the sneeze would have been an insignificant sound, barely noticeable by anyone. However, the could-have-been miniscule noise echoed for all to hear.
"What was that?!" shouted a voice. Skye pressed himself against the wall; a guard's clanking footsteps were rushing towards him.
Rammon, still crouched on the thick tree branch, realized Skye's error and hastily gave the signal to the men in his group. It was time to move out!
-------------------------------
The soldier was quickly approaching, and not even the shadows blanketing over could hide the nervous boy.
I'm going to die, he thought, unable to move. He strained the muscles in his neck so that he could tilt his head slightly, and stared at the flower shop across from his building. He spotted Deacon, who had an arm outstretched towards him. Skye did not understand at first, but focusing he saw Deacon's fingers twiddling quickly in a snapping motion.
"He must be signaling me!" Skye said to himself, and no longer fearing the guard, checking the building next door, he used his skill, dashing to Deacon in a half-second and following him through a narrow path behind the shop.
"Why're we goin' this way?" asked Skye.
"We won't be seen this way, probably," replied Deacon. "I saw Rammon head for a doorway while knocking out some guards, and I think this is a shortcut to that door."
They followed the short path, and ended up a few feet away from the tree Rammon had climbed onto earlier. Deacon pointed out that Rammon had to jump over the protective wall, and immediately Skye insisted, "I can make that jump. Hang onto me."
Deacon felt unsure; being taller and heavier than the sixteen-year-old, his size and weight might prevent Skye from getting over the twelve-foot-high wall. But before Deacon could tell him this, the determined boy, his back turned to Deacon, grabbed his arms.
"Hang on tight!" he cried excitedly, and in one bound he leapt high over the wall, coming to a not-so-graceful landing in front of some unconscious guards.
"Ugh..." groaned Deacon, "Get...off...me..."
"Heh heh, sorry..."
Skye sprang back up, and when Deacon stood again he said, "This is the door. Let's go and get this over with already."
So the pair dashed through the open entrance and into the hallways of the castle.
---------------------------------------------
It was pitch black. The hard marble floor made the boys' footsteps echo as they ran down a long hallway. Not a single torch or candle was lit, making it difficult for Skye and Deacon to navigate. The only sort of light they had to go by were slivers of moonlight showing through small arched windows high up on the walls.
When the boys entered the foyer, and had sprinted up a long staircase and had gone down another hallway towards the east-wing, Deacon noticed something odd.
"Hey..." he whispered, "...Where are all the guards?"
The least what the two of them could have expected was a bunch of soldiers waiting to catch them, or someone else attempting to break in. However, even through the darkness, it was plain that there was no one at a post, or on patrol.
"Maybe they went out on a midnight stroll?" Skye whispered back.
"Why don't you ever take anything seriously?!" Deacon yelled, no longer worried about attracting attention from the enemy. "Something weird is going on. Why would the Captain of the Guard not send any of his troops here to watch this place?"
"Well...I don't want to try to think about it now, Deac. Let's just try to find the treasure before Rammon completes the mission."
"But where is it?"
"Don't you remember? Joseph said that it was hidden in the tallest tower."
"Hmmm..."
"What?"
"Did you actually see any towers standing around here? Outside? This place looks like just a boring old building—nothing castle-like about it."
Skye paused and held his chin. He pondered, and after a minute he confirmed his thoughts;
"Maybe...maybe this place is the tower," he said excitedly, "Maybe the highest part of the castle is where the treasure is!"
"What makes you think that?"
"I'm not sure. I just wanna go with my gut on this--we have to try something. We have to find it!"
Deacon nodded, and they confirmed that they were approaching the east wing of the castle. But they were blind in the shadows of nighttime, and they needed a light.
So the boys hunted for one; a lantern, a torch, a candle--anything would be useful. They found a dining hall and a cookery nearby, and they split up to search both areas. A candlestick was found (after Skye had stumbled over a chair, falling to the floor and in the process spotting the candle under the lengthy, fine dining table,) but there was nothing to light the wick with.
After finding the candle and going into the kitchens a few doors away to get Deacon, just as he stood up from rummaging through the cupboards and jogged to see what Skye had found, a voice called out from nearby.
"Who's there?! Who is making all of that racket?!"
Skye quickly went to look, sticking his head out of the doorway in the dining room. A soldier carrying a small lantern and armed with a broadsword strode down the hall. The soldier seemed different from the pathetic guards standing outside the building; he had more plates of armor, as well as a buffer build. Skye inferred that the soldier was a member of The Captain of the Guard--so he was no low-rank squire.
The now anxious boy ran back to Deacon and gave him a description of the soldier. Deacon nodded, saying, "Yep. If he's got more armor stuffed on 'im than necessary, he's got to be a high class knight. We shouldn't mess with him.
"But he's walkin' down the only way out! We'll get caught!"
Suddenly the clanking of armor was heard, and the sound echoed, becoming louder and louder.
"And just how did you manage to sneak past our defenses, you troublesome thieves?!"
-----------------------
The darkness was now illuminated, thanks to the soldier's lantern. However, the situation was dangerous; there, an elite member of The Captain of the Guard stood, high ranked and expertly trained in nearly all fields of combat, with armor made of tough, silvery steel. It was hardly fair for Deacon and Skye, the former of whom was unarmed, and the young lad who barely knew how to swing a sword let alone the weapons sheathed at his sides.
As the guard approached them, one hand on the hilt of his broadsword, Skye threw the candle in his hand aside and clumsily pulled out his daggers. The instant the soldier saw the faintly colored gleam of Skye's blades, he quickly drew his weapon and set his lantern down on a worn chair gathering dust in the corner of the room.
"Feh, you aren't worth my time, you little runt," spoke the soldier. He stepped in closer, and Skye raised his weapons defensively in front of his face. The knight gave the boys a word of warning;
"If you want to stay alive, then you'll quietly come with me outside."
"N-never," Skye countered boldly, "We came here to get something..and you aren't gonna get in our way!"
"Yeah, ya bloody, clanking shit!"
The soldier silently fumed, glaring at the two boys. He stepped up to Skye, swinging his sword sideways in attempt to cleave his head. But the boy was quick; in an instant Skye was behind the guard, and he swiftly dodged out of harm's way as the solider turned and brought his sword down. The heavy blade clanged as it hit the floor, but the attack was recovered as the knight swung it upwards, narrowly missing the boy, a fraction of an inch away from slicing his chin. Unfortunately, as he avoided the strike, Skye lost his balance and toppled over. The second he hit the ground, the soldier once again brought his broadsword down--
Kiiiiinggg! Shhhik! There was the sound of clashing blades, and Skye saw Deacon with an enormous butcher knife, toe-to-toe with the soldier, halting the broadsword's swing. Deacon's arms shook with the force of the enemy's weight on the weapon; nevertheless, the stubborn bandit shoved the knight away, forcing him backward. The elite soldier quickly regained himself, but Deacon once again leapt at him with the knife. The blades gleamed as they were caught in a steadfast hold, and Deacon yelled at Skye in an urgent tone;
"Idiot!! Don't just sit there!! Grab the light and run!!"
Skye glanced sideways, and seeing the lantern resting on the chair he got up and dove towards it, and the split-second he grabbed the light he dashed lightning-quick out of the kitchen, through the dining hall and back through the east-wing entrance.
--------------
The lantern-light made finding another stairway less difficult; Skye had made a mad dash in the opposite direction of the east-wing, and had come to a stop in front of a stairway leading into the upper west-wing.
He sighed, panting and cold with sweat. "That...was a close one..." he murmured to himself, trying to assure himself his own safety. He felt concerned for Deacon, but there was no turning back. He had to find the treasure, the potential key for bringing the war to an end.
After regaining himself, he swallowed a deep breath and marched up the stairs. In one hand he carried the lantern; in the other a drawn dagger, glittering yellow by the light. He made a promise to himself that he wouldn't lose his nerve, but after a few minutes of slowly treading the steps leading in an upward spiral, he began to assume that the elite guard was now hot on his trail. So he quickened his pace, and jogged up the steps.
What seemed like hours passed, and soon at last he reached the top. To his dismay, however, he had reached a dead end. All that awaited him was a windowless room with no doorways or a hallway. Simply, there was nothing there.
"...I don't believe this!!" Skye said angrily, forcing himself not to shout. "What am I supposed to do now?! I can't go back, or else sir-clanks a lot is gonna have my hide! God-DAMN--"
In his frustration he threw the lantern, smashing it against the wall. It was a surprisingly durable little thing; the glass protecting the flame cracked, a piece of it chipping off, but that was all the damage it took. Even more surprising, though, was the wall directly in front of Skye slowly sliding open. The heavy marble wall inched its way across, sidling itself aside, and eventually it came to a halt, revealing a passageway with steps leading up to an unknown area. Skye silently said a thank-you prayer, and sheepishly approaching the new staircase, bent down to pick up the lantern (the wick inside it still aflame) and cautiously began to climb.

Experiment

2008-07-08T04:53:58Z

From now on, in between poems, I'm going to post chapters in a book I've been trying to write for almost two years. Recently I've been going back to the earlier chapters of the story and editing, so that it sounds a bit more like how I write today. But, since I'm young an inexperienced, my writing won't always stay the same. I may find myself editing even more, but I can't spend too much time on it, otherwise I'll never get it done. I plan to make it into a trilogy, maybe even longer. It would take several more years, but I really want to see this project through. I don't care if it takes me TEN years, because I always try to finish what I start to the best of my abilities. As I'm typing this, I have edited six chapters, out of about fifteen written so far (I still have more to write.)

Here I post the first three (which is a lot at once, I know,) but afterwards, I will only post one chapter at a time. How often I'll be churning out chapters depends on how long it takes me to finish writing them.

I know it seems kind of silly to do this, since no one reads my journal anyway. But it's something I've been thinking about, and it's driven me to the point where I just HAVE to carry it out. So I'm going to, starting with the post I'm making after this one.

The Dark Adonis

2008-07-03T05:54:36Z

He struts proudly
one moment,
Slinks around gloomy
or stalks his prey
in the next

He stares at you
intensely,
inquisitive,
cocking his head sideways.
Now he gazes
longingly, penetrating.

His moods swing
wild
from childlike
to angry
to melancholy
to utter insanity,
glad beyond all reason in the
Kingdom of Chaos,
and passing out into perhaps some
dreamy comfort.

No denying
his sweet charms;
tricky, seducing,
daringly loving.

He plants his
kiss
And then you're completely
gone.

There was a time...

2008-07-03T05:26:08Z

when we were happy--
I can't recall.
Where'd it all go
wrong?
I was an innocent child
and you were the
charmer.
You said I was
lovely.
I said you were
gorgeous.
At first I loaned you
all my attention,
willing to take it back
anytime.
Then I sold it
in exchange for the slightest sound
from your lips.
But we were never in
Eden.

Time FLEW

You grew bitter
tired
sick
distressed
discouraged.
And you fled
into safer territory
that was far from me.

Writer's Block: Gender Bender

2008-06-15T00:19:20Z

Do you ever want to be of the opposite sex? If so, what attracts you to the idea? If not, what repels you?

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Sure. The idea of becoming the "opposite sex" is an idea that many people are already living out. But if there was a way to just magically wish myself into becoming someone else...I would do it.

lowly growl

2008-06-15T00:15:09Z

...a lowly growl, a howling
lingers
hovers over the traveler's head
...instead of heeding the warning
he moves on
through the freezing, desert night

youth

2008-06-12T06:33:00Z

Young American teen boy
fawns
over the young American teen
girl--
or boy?
Nothing seems to matter much.

Man oh man, it's been so long

2008-05-29T06:06:22Z

But I have poetry, poetry at last..

There are only
two (2)
kinds of
people.

There's "Us"
and there's
"Them."

"They"
are the cheaters,
the liars,
the backstabbers,
the foreign,
the unknown evil.

"We"
are the do-gooders,
the honest,
the valiant,
the familiar,
the comforting hand.

Yet
"They"
are the ones who say
Welcome

And
"We"
are the ones who say
Get the fuck away

Writer's Block: Where am I in the garden?

2008-05-14T04:12:00Z

What vegetable or fruit do you relate to most?

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Hmm..

I'm a tomato. It's not always certain that I'm a vegetable or a fruit, but I'm used in all kinds of things nevertheless. I'm common yet unusual. Some people like the tasty sauces and such that I'm in, but hate the real thing.

Been a while

2008-05-14T03:58:33Z

QUITE a while, actually. getting a...a..MySpace was a mistake. But that was only to keep in touch with other who don't use this site, or forums or IM or anything else, pretty much..

Anyway, I recently wrote a few songs. I have the melodies in my head, so it'd be kind of hard for others to picture these words as a song. But they kind of suck, anyway, so I don't expect great praise from them.

Here's my most recent one;

'And...' (I thought about making it in the key of A)

And I'll
give you my sandals
just for a day,
My toes like to feel the ground
anyway
'Cause we should always do
whatever that it is we like
to do.

And I'll
give you my Honda
just for a while,
I like to walk and walk
for miles and miles
'Cause we should always go
Wherever that it is we like
to go.

*Humming, whistling for a few beats*

And I'll give you my hand
just for tonight
I like to stay with you
and say that "it's alright"
'Cause we should always say
Whatever that it is we like
to say

So why don't you come on out
to play
Today
Okay?

*Whistling for a few beats*

at home

2008-05-03T06:33:04Z

When the
fire dances
room remains cold
An arctic chill
lingering
hovering
numbing
No one can hear
there is no talk
just frozen hell
the vast blizzard tundra

"I'm a nervous wreck"

"Tension's killing me"

"I hate feeling this freezing."

Been a while

2008-04-30T03:46:50Z

Since I last wrote anything. The inspirational flow...or whatever you call it, hasn't been coming to me.

But I did write a poem while thinking of a dear friend of mine...

You are
my poison
my antidote
my killer
my savior
my scars
my healer
my nightmares
my sweet dreams
my chains
my freedom;

The narrow closet
and the universe as a whole,
the uninviting stare
and the smile of welcome,
the deathly silence
and the music of my soul

You are,
the undying rain
and the sun
that awakens me again.
-----------

As I was writing this, part of "The Ghost Song" came to mind:

"Awake
sweet dreams
my dear child
my sweet one...
Choose the day
and the sign of your day
and the day's divinity..."

worry

2008-04-23T03:04:34Z

I am troubled immensely.

My situation is a mess, no matter what it may seem like to those on the outside.

I feel very much alone.