| Sara 的个人资料Life As a Teenage Writer照片日志列表 |  工具  帮助 |
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3月14日 Huh.I stepped back, and look at that--things were clear. I am overemotional. I am contradictory. My emotions turn on a frikin' dime.
Kind of funny if you think about it, but I as sure as hell wish it would stop. Maybe then I could be me, and a good friend. Clear and obvious and predictable, like a stereotypical character I'm always thinking of. It'd be better than the moody person I am now.xD
Sorry Kaggr. Sorry Kanna. I'll try to be better. I promise. I'll never be as open as a book, but I'll try not to bottle stuff up. Easier to let it out slowly. Probably healthier, too.
Anyways, this one's for you. I have no idea what the heck I'm doing, but hey, that hasn't stopped me before.
This story starts like this.
Lovely beginning.
It ends like this.
Now I'm just kidding.
My name is Catherine Sienna Rosabelle Marie White. I am possibly the most insecure person you will meet.
So, here's me in a nutshell: I'm confused, I love Gerald Butlar and Leonardo DiCaprio, I hate shaving my legs, and hate my thin, bleach-blond hair.
Compelling story already, isn't it? In other words, I am your average, run-of-the-mill Catholic teen.
Except for one thing: I am a gay run-of-the-mill average Catholic teen.
Now, even if you don't know anything about religion, or the Catholic Church, the Vatican, the Orders, or so on and so forth, everyone knows that the Catholic Church believes a marriage should be between a man and a woman.
Now, if it makes you feel any better, I agree completely with that statement--marriage is between a man and a woman. A union is formed between two of the same gender.
Hey, it solves all the problems, right?
I know a lot of people who tell me that they knew they were gay when they were kids. I was not one of those lucky few. My gay-ness struck me like....
...well, a bus. Almost literally.
There is no villain in this story--'cause I am my own worst enemy. You have no idea what damage you can do to yourself or to others. There is also no romance.
And no worries--this story is not a graphic account of gayness. It actually has very little to do with it at all. It just gave me a reason to basically say to heck with it all.
My story begin in February, on a day that every teenager dreads secretly.
Valentine's Day.
I go to a Catholic School caled St. Catherine's. It's an all-girl high school, and so Valentine's Day is rather....dull. We have a Mass, we give each other friendly Valentines, and then go back to work. I had gotten there late and had missed the Mass. I had brought Valentines for everyone, but when I arrived, they had finished handing them out, and I didn't get the chance to. Also, there were none on my dull gray plastic desk.
Such a nice thing to come to after having by braces tightened.
I sat down in the uncomfortable, stiff-backed black plastic seat and listened to the teacher lecture. My mind, however, were on the girls in the next row, who were giggling over the candy they got from their friends.
I had done everything I could to fit in, and yet I was still treated like an outcast. I wore loads and loads of makeup, mostly around my eyes; I wore the plaid green and blue skirts instead of the more comfortable sweatpants; and I had even died my mousy-brown hair blond...and badly! To someone looking on, I would have blended in perfectly with the manicured, blitzed-blond crowd.
Maybe it was through foresight that they kept me away. I didn't see any other reason.
As the day went on, things got progressively worse. My Math test came back with a big red 'F' on the first page, and my history quiz was not much better. My English teacher put 'See me later' on the front of my essay.
Around lunch I gave up on trying to put a positive spin on things and kind of gave up. If I made it through the day, I would survive. If I didn't, I hoped someone would bury me next to Andrew Llyod Webber, whenever he died. I love that guy, too!
All of our classes at school looked the same. Each was in a gray-green brick building with simple blue doors. Inside was gray with either wooden desks or plastic ones. Textbooks could be there, or not, and there was always a whiteboard or a chalkboard.
Boring, boring, boring. It was a wonder anyone graduated at all, with how many people fell asleep in classes.
By the time the last class came around, I was staring at the clock with the desperation of a stranded woman. MOVE! I wanted to scream. Once or twice, I almost did. It didn't help that I was in Religion--the most boring class of them all. I've been a Catholic all my life. I now know more about the ceremonies than the priest does, and they're still teaching it! I already knew the Bible backwards and forwards. All they had to do now was train me to recite it for doggie treats, and my humiliation and irritation would be complete.
That was...weird. Anyways, I might continue tomorrow. Night, all.
6月5日 PainPain. Such an interesting concept. How can you define it? It's something that hurts, right? There's different kinds of pain, though -mental, and physical. Of the two, which is more painful? I'd go with mental -it lasts longer.
However, the moments after the worst month of my life, I could say I was completely numb. Who wouldn't be? I had been abandoned by my parents...no, not abandoned. They had sold me to the government, simply because I could talk to my twin. When he wasn't there.
For pity's sake, he made things fly and he was only sent to a special school!
Now, don't get me wrong: I love my brother. I'm just a little jealous that he was the favorite. Only after he turned out to be abnormal was I pulled into the spotlight. And I hated it. My parents, who had always ignored me before, now became my best friends. They bought me everything.
Until, one day, I started to talk to John as if he was in my room, when he was half way across the country. Before I could even blink, I found myself dazed and confused in a white lab where if they weren't wearing white lab coats, they were in police coats.
Now, two years after, I still can't remember how I escaped. But I do remember a lot of people dying. And I don't feel sorry for it.
After I had escaped, I stumbled out onto the streets dressed in only a hospital gown. I was bald, cold, and ill. It was there that a gang of other gifted people found me. They took me into their run-down apartment, clothed me, and helped me get better. They were my family for a year, until I got put in jail.
Then, like my parents, they abandoned me.
So forgive me if I don't trust -if I feel like I have no reason to. I'm numb, but I hurt. I feel the pain of my past.
Go figure.
-Kait 4月9日 The Shadow ChildI should be doing homework. Lord knows I have enough. *eyes pile up to knee* That's what happens when you are ill for two days, I suppose. But I have a need to write something dark. I have written so many stories about Henuki that I cannot use him, and he is one of my few characters who qualifies as...well, dark.
The only other character I can think of is Naomi Krad. I've always been enchanted by how she turned out, I admit. I just used her to double with one of my other characters, and she became...well, unique. Just recently I have figured out what her past should be.
I seem to have an obsession with orphans. When I was in preschool, a teacher asked me where my parents were. My responce? "They died." Go figure, eh?
Now, I'm quite happy to have parents. But around three-fourths of my 38 characters seem to lack them. And the ones that do are my favorite.
Interesting how things turn out.
Anyways, here it is. Even though I should be working on something else...Oh well. I have another day. And it's only four things.
It was dark, so dark...there was nothing to help her. Nothing to comfort her when she so badly needed comfort.
It had always been that way, even when they had been alive. The wood cabin had always been covered in black drapes, the windows were never open to let in light. The area around the cabin had always seemed to attract shadows. It was shrouded in mystery, but the shadows had never completely taken it over. Something, or someone, had always kept them at bay.
No longer.
It was noon, but the cabin and the area around it seemed to have been plunged into complete darkness. The shadows had taken over, and greedily devoured everything they touched.
Except one thing.
A small figure, hardly visable, was curled up in the middle of the floor. Black hair fell like a curtain over it's face, and small, pale hands clutched at black clothing. The shadows did not know what to do; at times they would race forward, and then retreat. Sometimes they slowly crept up, then backed away. Each time they went back, one could see what the small figure was holding.
Two bodies lay on either side of her. Both had black hair, both had dark, sightless eyes. One was a female, the other, a male. Each one was pale, as if they lacked blood.
A sob was choked out of the figure's throat as it raised its head. It was a girl, no more than twelve years old, with the same pale features as the bodies on either side of her. Trembling, she flexed her grip on the pieces of clothing, but did not let go. After a moment, she released the male's shirt and waved her hand over him until she encounted something hard and smooth. Her shaking increased as she jerked her slender hand back.
The shadows sensed an opportunity, and rushed forward. The girl's head went up, and teary purple eyes flickered with something that could only be known as rage.
"Back!" she cried. Her voice shook, but did not crack. "Back! You cannot have them!" As the shadows retreated, she lowered her head so her hair covered her face once more. "They are mine," she whispered. "You cannot take them..." She drew in a shuddering breath and stood. She was small, and certainly not threatening, but for once, the shadows did not move.
After a moment of silence, a single transparent hand reached out to the female's body. The girl whirled around and said something in a voice that was not her own. An inhuman scream of pain rang in the air, and the hand vanished. The shadows moved back as the girl fell to her knees once more.
"I am the master now," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been screaming. She fought back a sob and looked up once more. "You will listen to me, shadows. They have passed the control to me. You will obey!"
The shadows moved back again.
She crossed her arms and hugged herself to stop herself from shaking. "I am the Child of Shadows," she said quietly, as if reciting something she had heard so many times, but had never had the chance to say. "But the shadows are not my friends." When she finally looked up, the shadows were gone...along with the bodies of her parents. She had lost her first battle against the beings she was supposed to control.
Weeping bitterly, she allowed the darkness to engulf her as well. 2月10日 American TranslatorFebruary 9, 2006
Kabul, Afghanistan
"DUCK!"
Henry was all too happy to oblige as yet another fire of bullets whizzed over his covered head. He had learned that, in the Middle East, there were two rules that ensured survival: follow all directions, no matter who gives them, and stay away from American soldiers. For the past sixteen months, these two unspoken rules had saved his life more times than he could count.
Unfortunately, he had already forgotten rule #2, for standing next to him was a Spanish man dressed in army green. The soldier was probably one of the few in the middle of the...for lack of a better term, religious battle. Most were attempting to calm things down...around the edges. Henry couldn't blame them. Normally, wars between religions -or different parts of the same religion- worked themselves out. A classic example was the war between Christians and Muslims.
Henry's mind drifted back to the situation he was in, and he chuckled. Then again, perhaps it wasn't quite over...
The soldier sank down next to the twenty-year-old translator. Both were sitting behind the remains of a wall and a few sandbags. Henry pulled out a canteen and offered it to him.
"Thanks, sir," he mumbled, taking it. He took a long draught before handing it back to Henry. "Whatcha doing here? You don't look like a soldier, or a Muslim, even if you are wearing their clothing..."
It was true. With Henry's black hair, sun-darkened skin, and slight beard, he looked just like a Middle Eastern citizen. He had decided to use that to his advantage, and so had put on the standard Muslim clothing for a male. This included a head cover, a robe, baggy pants, and a tunic.
Henry pulled off the head cover and gasped softly. "I don't know how they wear those things," he said, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "And as to your question, I am a translator for a group of reporters. I got...seperated."
"Bad place to get seperated, sir," he said, his Spanish accent barely detectable. "I'll help you get back once this is over."
Henry nodded and took a drink from the canteen as well. "I greatly appreciate it." He put the canteen in his bag and glanced at the soldier. "Do you speak Spanish?"
"It's my native language, sir," the soldier replied eagerly.
"Lovely. I wanted to practice it, you see. I'm just starting to learn..." He slipped easily into Spanish. "And it might be comforting for you to hear it."
"Very!" He frowned. "If I may say so, sir, you do not sound like you are just starting..."
"I am a fast learner." That was true...to some degree. Henry had the magical ability to read, write, understand and speak any language fluently. He didn't have much control over it; it had to be triggered by an accent or a few words.
"I see...what is your name, sir?"
"Henry. Just..Henry. And you?"
"Miguel. Pleasure to meet you." The two shook hands as more bullets went over their heads.
"How long have you been here?" Miguel asked, smoothing his black hair away from his dark skin.
"Little over a year. You?"
"I've been here for three years," the soldier replied. His brown eyes had a sad cast to them. "I have a family at home. Two kids, too."
"Ah. I'm sorry."
"Do you have any family? Brothers, sisters, parents...?"
Henry shook his head. "No. I'm an orphan. Hence, no last name." As he spoke, loud shouts could be heard once again, and there was the sound of a fuse being lit. "I suggest we leave."
Miguel was two steps ahead of the translator. He grabbed Henry's arm and quickly pushed him out of the way before diving after him.
There was an explosion where they had just been, and the two looked up, then at each other.
Henry smiled faintly. "Shame there wasn't a photographer there, hmm?"
Miguel blinked, and then laughed softly. "Yes. I know some people back home who wouldn't be amused by those pictures."
"Same." He stood, picking up his things and his head cover. He put it on and turned to the much shorter soldier. "Thank you, Miguel. You saved my life."
"You gave me some peace." He smiled and glanced back at the fighting groups. "When do you think they'll stop?"
"I really don't know," Henry admitted quietly.
This is based on an actual incident that I looked up. It did happen on the 9th. But please try to remember this is fiction, and so, not all of it is true. I may of even exaggerated a few things. The article was found here: lhttp://www.wral.com/apworldnews/6880279/detail.html. That was my only source.
2月1日 MistrustMy gradual decline from his favor started long before he became obsessed, I believe. Truth be told, it was my fault. I didn't let the boy get what he wanted.
Mind, in doing this, I helped him survive. Yet another reason for my low status -he never wanted to live in the first place.
Apparently, an old warrior like myself doesn't get any thanks for helping.
I'm still not quite sure why I helped the boy in the first place. Perhaps it was pity, understanding, or just plain hope that he was the leader I looked for. Half-drow as he was, he had the temper to match any dwarf's, and some skill with black-smithing. Even without knowing anything about him, I could tell he would do anything for someone he cared about.
You might be confused, reader, by my reference to this strange 'he'. If you are human, it is very likely you have never heard of my former pupil. He planned to destroy you all, but instead, he ended up saving a human girl not so different from himself.
But, I am getting ahead of myself. My job is merely to record the old him, so that he does not become lost under the many layers that form this cold, hardened elf.
I first met him many, many years before, as I prevented him from killing himself, although it wasn't by 'cutting' or any other vile ways you humans use nowadays. You see, attacking a group of hardened, armed knights who's only goal in life was to kill all elves would have been suicide. After the boy had kneed me in a rather sensitive area, swore quite profoundly at me and nearly killed me with his spear, he finally calmed down. At this point, I was irritated, and would have been happy to let him go...save for the curiousity that will one day be the downfall of us all.
"Where did you learn to swear like that, lad?" I asked the now-limp youngster. He glanced up me with irritated silver eyes. I spoke only a little elvish, and the little I knew was nearly uncomprehensible because of a thick, burly accent.
"My mother," he mumbled. He had a light, slightly reedy voice that was filled with some despair.
My eyebrows lifted into my just-graying hair. "Really? How interesting..where is she now?"
"Dead." This was sobbed out; the younger lad was not afraid of showing emotions. Strange how things can change..."All of them are! Let me go!"
The struggle began anew, and I was hard-pressed to keep a good grip on the boy before he killed me to get to the men. I couldn't blame him; my family had also been killed by humans, and I had once felt the same things he felt now. Only I had not been filled with a killing rage that was common in both drows and dwarves. Instead, I had felt an incredible amount of sadness, and the urge to curl up and die.
After the boy had once again discovered he could not quite get away, he slumped down once again."Let me go," he said, begging this time. I shook my head and pulled him up.
"Killing isn't the answer, lad. Come with me, and we'll write a letter to your people. Maybe they'll take you in."
Some hope flickered in his eyes. "You think so?"
I chose not to answer. In the end, his hopes were crushed. I trained him to be our leader, and as I did, he started to get the crazy thought that killing truly was the answer.
But, dear reader, I do not tell you about that. My job is merely to tell of my old friend, Henuki. 12月19日 Me, Water, and the WorldYou know, there are only gloomy stories about global warming, so I decided to do a cheerful, go-lucky inventor who is quite happy to go with the flow...literally!
"Well, sir, that should do it!" I proclaimed as I slapped my hands together and admired my handiwork. I had just finished repairing a water pump for a man with many children, but no wife, and no money. The pump itself was a rusty old thing: the plastic had been patched, like the fabric, and the metal had started to rust off. It was one of the first ones ever built, I had noticed instantly, and some might consider it an antique. Me? A pump is a pump. They all work the same, no matter how old they are.
"Are you quite sure?" the man asked, a few more lines appearing on his already creased face. The man was pretty old; his brown hair was turning gray, and he had many wrinkles on his face. I figured he was around seventy.
Seemingly, salt air makes us live longer.
I flashed him my famous crooked grin. "Yes sirreeee. This should keep you afloating for a few more years." I chuckled. "Get it? Afloating?"
He just looked at me, and my grin faded.
"Oh, c'mon. Did your sense of humor leave with the land?"
"Some might accuse you of making light of a dire situation."
"Woah, woah, slow down there! You are using too many words for a PHD graduate! And who says its a dire situation? Those doomsayers who preach about the end of the world? Poppycock! Its not dire until we run out of water. After all, everything here runs on water, true?"
The old man-who probably was a PHD graduate, judging by the way he spoke-nodded. "Yes. All thanks to the great inventor, Samuel A. Foog."
I laughed and pocketed a wrench. "Yup. Great guy, isn't he? Total wacko, but he's cool."
"Some say he's the most brilliant man since Einstein."
"Now now, I wouldn't go that far. He's cool an` all, but not as cool as Mr. Crazy-Hair himself."
"You talk about him like you know him."
"Who, Mr. Foog?" I grinned. "Of course I know `im. He's my best bud from good ol' highschool. Me and Samuel go way back, man."
Seeing the man's skeptical look, I decided it was time to go. I packed up my tools, shouldered my pack, said goodbye, and shifted my arms so my nametag-which read 'Goof A. Leumas'-showed, then walked out of the concrete building, and directly onto the wood 'porch'.
All around me was ocean, instead of the close confinement of the all-concrete building. I breathed in the scent of salty air and sighed in content.
Some missed land. I certainly didn't. I had lived on one of the last islands for most of my childhood, and had always loved water. So had good ol' Samuel A. Foog, whom I had also known at the island.
How did I know him?
Easy. He was me.
Need proof? Read my name backwards.
Ha! You see it.. right?
Wait a minute...you don't see it? Honestly, people!
Goof is Foog spelled backwards. A...well, that's self explanitory. 'A' isn't a word, although it seems like it can be at times.
And 'Luemas' is Samuel spelled backwards, too! See! You get it!
Okay! I admit it! Spelling my name backwards to keep my 'secret identity' hidden was not the most brilliant thing to do, and it certainly isn't something you'd expect from the man who decided that everything should be run on water, and made it so it would work. So sue me! From what I've heard, all the other inventors were jerks. So I won't be one..so there.
With a slight shake of my head, I walked toward my boat, which is a lot like your modern-day raft things...only its white, made out of plastic, and doesn't have a motor. Plus, there's a storage area and nice, cushy seats. And we use a lever to steer it.
My invention, thank you. I just haven't put this one into mass production yet; I don't think people will like the fact that you have to pedel to make it go.
I can't blame them! When the world is covered in water, would you want to go anywhere by pedeling?
-Note: Athletic people....don't say anything. Pleeeeaaaase.
I placed my blue toolbox in the storage compartment in the back, then got into the front and started to pedel. At this rate, I would have been able to run a marathon...if we ever made a track. But we didn't have one, simply because people didn't view sports as important. Most of us are couch potatoes now.
I can't help thinking that we just wanted an excuse.
(Note to athletic people-PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! IT WASN'T MY FAULT! I even came up with the water powered treadmill...never caught on...shame, really...it was wicked sweet...)
Anyways!
As I pedeled, random thoughts ran through my mind. I won't say them here, in my journal, because they are just too random too.
Dude, some of those thoughts scared me.
Wait... That was the point, wasn't it?
Oops.
And that's all for now! I hope this was amusing! But now, I am going to bed. Night! 12月11日 TutoringMost people get their first jobs at around sixteen or seventeen, and the jobs are usually at McDonalds or something like that.
I got my first job at twelve, and started at thirteen. It was a nice job, as far as teenage-jobs go. It payed ten bucks an hour, two days a week. Hey, it wouldn't pay any bills, but I didn't have any. And with my grades and birthday money, I would soon have more money than I knew what to do with. Plus, the job seemed easy. The kid was nice; not the best reader, but nice all the same. I accepted the job at the end of seventh grade -it was the end of second grade for the kid- and said I would start the beginning of next year.
Summer passed, and I spent the first month of school struggling to get my new part-time job working. I finally got to meet with the kid's parent, and I arranged the dates. I even agreed to mention anything the kid needed to work on to the parent, and then ask the teacher what homework the kid had to do. For the first couple of weeks, it went along smoothly. I had to pull the kid -who shall now be known as 'Jimmy'- out from under tables from time to time, but it was nothing large.
Jimmy, it turned out, was not slow....he was incredibly brilliant. You know those Sulivan tutoring places? The ones that brag about how well trained their teachers are? Well, he tricked one of the 'highly-trained' teachers, I found out, by hiding under a desk and crying when they tried to get him to take a test.
Apparently, none of the teachers had a little brother, like me, or didn't feel it was right to pull him out from under that desk.
I quickly learned that my job wasn't to teach Jimmy. My job was to sit on him; literally, at times. My main problem was that he would often beat up my little brother, Kelvin, who chose to do his homework while I fought with Jimmy. Truth be told, I wasn't quite sure how to fix that. I would yell, threaten to call the principal, haul him over to his chair, pull him out from under desks....the list went on.
To this day I am not sure if what I did was exactly legal. It doesn't seem right to pull a kid out from under a desk....or hold him down until he does his homework. There was even a time when I wrestled with him for fourty minutes for a piece of paper, when he should have been studying.
Did I forget to mention that Jimmy's father walked in on me fighting with his son? Both of the times I was mortified: what must he have been thinking, seeing a 5'5, almost frail-looking girl hauling his son around? There was another time when I threatened to get the principal, and out of the blue, the principal was standing by the doorway, looking very confused.
Oops.
Luckily, nothing came out of the situations.
But the most funny thing that came out of my tutoring experience was when the preppy girls in my class had afterschool detention. Because I take voice lessons, I can shout very loudly. I had left the door open that day, and Jimmy had decided not to behave. So, I was shouting. I peer out to close the door, and the two girls gave me very odd looks. I nearly busted out laughing.
You see, I had a reputation of being the 'quiet girl'. You know, the ones you see who always have their face in some kind of book? So me shouting must have been a shocker for them.
I admit, I was positively gleeful over the expressions on their faces.
Anyways, as time went on, I learned more about Jimmy. I learned he wanted to be in the military, and that he held some respect for me.
I also learned he could be polite when he wanted to be. When it was his birthday, his grandmother came, bringing cupcakes. After he had finished handing them out -I got one, too- he asked her politely if he could help her carry the remaining cupcakes to the car.
I admit, I was impressed.
Jimmy was a neat kid. A bit crazy at times, sure. But he certainly wasn't just that way. He was truly a person, even if he was only in third grade.
But even children can teach us something, can't they?
By the way, every event in this story is true. Jimmy is actually Timmy -the boy I tutor-, Kelvin is Kevin, my brother, and the narrator is...me! Woot! Please tell me what you thought of this... BroodingThis is a fictional story to let me brood in an odd fashion. And I will not tell you who is speaking. Some people call me cold. Others say I was a genius. Key word was. I don't particularly agree with either statement. I am cold, yes, but only because I'm afraid to lose someone I care about. Perhaps I am clever, but if I was a genius, I wouldn't be sitting here in this hard seat wondering about this. I would be out, putting my talents to good use, instead of worrying over them like I used to worry over my mother's comments. They meant so much to me, and I would spend hours trying to figure out the exact meaning of what she said. She was a diplomat to the end, my mother. She could repeat the same phrase in seven different ways, and you still could never figure out what she meant. She rarely gave praise, and when she did, it wasn't just for one thing you did right; it would be for everything. Gods, how I miss her. No, no, to just say I miss her would be an understatement. I would gladly burn down the entire world if someone said that's what I had to do to see her one more time. Although she died when I was young, I didn't just see the good side of her. I saw the bad, too. I saw how she used to cry over my father, whom I didn't know. All I ever saw of him was the painting that hung on the wall. He looked a lot like me, complete with the silver eyes and square jaw, but his hair was white, and my hair was black, like my mother's. I even knew why she cried: my father had left her soon after she had me. I saw her angry as well. She often ranted about a Council member and my various cousins, how they wouldn't help her simply because her son -being no fool, I knew she referred to me- was half drow. I never asked her why this made a difference. It wasn’t important at the time. When I turned nine, I started to wander into the forest, taking my makeshift spears with me. I found I had quite good aim, and soon found that I need a sleigh to carry some of the animals I caught and killed. The killing, for some odd reason, always bothered me. I always, always sought to make it as painless as possible, and often found myself whispering a prayer once it was done. That was the only thing I never told my mother; I feared she would find it a weakness. By my tenth birthday, I was going out every day to get food, and rarely found time to play with the other children who had been my 'friends' two years before. Now I wished I had, because then things might not have turned out so badly. I might have been adopted, instead of banished. Now, now, I don’t want to seem pathetic. By gods, I don’t like to be pitied. It simply isn’t me. Not that it matters. The only one to read this will be one of the dwarves or some elf attempting to see into my mind. Well, congrats, if it is the latter. You have stumbled upon my last diary entry. I have returned to the abandoned mountain to fetch my things, some supplies and money. After this, I don’t know where I’ll go. Perhaps I’ll go to a tavern, to drink my problems away; or a costal town to find a boat. It is time for me to go. Now and Always, Henuki 11月25日 Oh dearHm...who to use...who to use...*looks at short stories* So far, I have used Ruth, Henuki, Alyssa, Feanor, Selenia, Elia, Neil and Dominica. Those are my main characters. So who could I write about? I can make up an entirely new character...oooorrrr I could write about another rather snappish character. You know, I think I'll do that. And about how she gets in trouble.^____________^ Aren't I evil?
-----------------
How Enelya Became a Thief
*long pause, and a white-blond haired girl dressed in ragged gray clothing walks into room* Sara?
Me-Yes?
Girl-I'm not Enelya.
Me-You aren't?
Girl-No, I'm Emma. Remember, the banished necromancer?
Me-um...I think I remember you.
Emma-You THINK?!
Me-Oh, YEAH! I remember you now! You sure are thin....
Emma-The story, idiot.
Me-.......................I know, I know, don't rush me. This is the story after all.
Emma-No, its not.
Me-Yes, it is.
Emma-Nu uh. Because I never became a thief.
Me-That does pose a problem.
Emma-DUH!
Me-Be quiet. I may be stupid, but I'm not-.......................wait.
Emma-..........................xDDDDDDDDD
Me-I did not just say that!
Emma-DID TOO!
Me-DID NOT!
Emma-*runs off screaming 'did too'*
Me-And that's all folks! *salutes, then chases after Emma, while curtains close* 11月15日 Life is ShortSelenia is my shapechanger character, who is also a noble. She stars in Time of the Shapechangers, and gets stuck in halk form later. But this is far before that...it starts when she's twenty.
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Not much is more boring than listening to diplomats, Selenia thought with a yawn. They circle around the subject until someone has the courage to speak up.
The woman was seated right next to the end seat, her long-fingered hand tapping the dark red wood. She was dressed simply, with a long silver skirt and a white blouse. Her jet black hair was tied into a ponytail, but a single lock dangled over her intense silver eyes. Her skin was fairly tan, and she appeared to be about twenty.
She watched her hand again, smiling as fur appeared on it, then vanished. She had changed her eyes to cat eyes, but because no one was watching, so it was for her own amusement only.
Her eyes shifted back to normal instantly when she felt a hand lightly trace a line around her neck. She shivered and looked back. A man stood behind her, a grin on his narrow face. He was her opposite, with dark brown eyes, light skin, blond hair and a stocky, short build compared to her tallness and slenderness.
She smiled at him. "Joseph," she murmured, motioning to a seat next to her. "What are you doing here? This place doesn't suit you."
"Indeed it doesn't," he agreed, looking over the overdressed men, and the one man who wore a crown. He took the seat she had offered, kissing her briefly. "But I figured if you have to live through it, I might as well too. And then... I have something to ask you."
She nodded and turned her gaze back to the man with the crown. Only a few minutes passed before she felt Joseph tap her shoulder. She glanced at him. "What is it?"
"They're discussing the 'shapechanger' problem," he murmured, frowning. "Do they really think of us as a problem?"
"Does the fact that the king is sitting as far away from me as possible answer that?"
"Of course. It was your choice to tell him in the first place."
"What's the point in hiding it?"
"Its what most people normally do."
"I'm not 'most people'. I'm a shapechanger, I'm female, and I'm noble. He better learn to live with it."
"Selenia!"
"Yes?"
"You aren't listening!"
"Of course not!"
He sighed in frustration and banged his head against the wood. Still, no one looked over. Selenia knew why: they were shapechangers. Shapechangers were hated because they were a minority. It was just a fact of life.
Besides, she didn't care about the foolish politics. She was better off without them. She could easily be happy in her cabin with her animals.
But she didn't want to be alone.
She slid a glance at Joseph, who was listening raptly. What she had said before was wrong; he was perfect for politics. When she had first met him, he had been so careful to say something that meant something else that she had spent hours after the encounter figuring out exactly what he had meant. What had embarrassed her about it was that she was supposed to be smart.
A faint smile hovered on her lips, and he glanced at her curiously.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head and hugged him. "Nothing," she murmured. "Nothing at all." 11月12日 Time to TalkI first realized I was in trouble was when I felt someone grab the back of my collar and hoist me to my feet. I wasn't really surprised that whoever had me had such brute force, after all, I had given at least three people bloody noses, and the boy who had called me a 'geek' was stretched out on the floor, his one good eye (his other eye was swollen shut, because I had hit it pretty hard) stared up at me in wide-eyed terror. To the person holding my collar, it must have seemed like I was a wild girl.
I love my reputation. It makes people leave me alone. Well, except for the good ol' principal and the dope who had started the fight in the first place. How idiotic can people be? I have a record, for pity's sake! I would have skipped into a jail quite happily if it hadn't been for that clown of a principal. But noooo. Instead, the stupid guy had to go and set me free, and then force me to go to his stupid school where I can 'learn' to get along with people like me and people who are different.
God, gag me. People don't like me, and I don't like them. Period. That's the way it was, and it will always be that way.
Well, the one exception is my brother, John, who also goes to the school. He looks like a goth, but is not as wacko as the real goths. And if he was, I'd disown him. Why? Because I don't like goths.
Anyways, back to my not-so-great situation. Here I was, dangling in the air and staring down at the ground as the person who had a grip on my collar dragged me to the principal's office. Oh goodie. Now I get to listen to his preaching about the good person inside me. John agrees with him, and I can't blame him. I wasn't always rough. But then again, I was never into that princessy stuff either. It makes me sick to see super-skinny girls dressed all in pink. When I was on the streets, we didn't have much to eat, and yet here are these girls purposely starving themselves. When I first came here, I made the mistake of asking John who they were when they were walking past. Then I had to listen as they each said their name as if they were royalty.
I'm getting distracted again, aren't I? I do that a lot.
The person set me down by a tall, white door, and I briefly considered trying to run. But running wouldn't accomplish anything, for then I'd just be dragged back again, so I placed my hand on the smooth surface of the doorknob, twisted it, and opened the door.
It was a circular room, with a few chalkboards scattered around. All the chalkboards had numbers or something on them, and I was surprised to see that one of the chalkboards had a picture of a computer, and then me, with a line connecting them.
"Kaitlyn," I heard a gentle, man's voice ring in my ears. I winced. I hated my full name. It sounded so.......girly.
I turned to to the principal, who was about as different from me as could be. He was sturdily built, tall, with curly brown hair, light green eyes and pale skin. I was short, skinny, with straight black hair, dark blue eyes and tan skin.
"What is it?" she demanded.
"You started another fight. That's the third one this week." He shuffled a few papers and stood. My scowl deepened.
"What do you care?" I demanded.
"I care because you have given seven kids bloody noses, three others black eyes, and one who's nose is broken. C'mon, Kait. I didn't pull you out of jail only to have you beat up people here."
"Then why did you?"
"Because of your talent." He set the papers down. "Because of that microchip in your head. Because you were endangering others." He walked over to the blackboard.
"I've had enough," she said, whirling around and walking out.
"Kait!" he called, but she ignored him. She knew she would regret it later, but she ignored him.
There was nothing else she could think of to do. 9月26日 One down, so many more to go.Darkness. The blackness of night that covered the forest like a mantle, muffling the sound and blocking out the light.
A Slayer's work was conducted in the eerie silence of the night.
Unless we found our prey.
Then the silence was a mere memory.
I stood at one end of the clearing, crucifix in one hand, stake in the other. My hair, as black as a vampire's blood, fell over my face, moved by an unseen wind.
My opponent faced me. His black hair was also mussed from the wind that howled through the trees, bringing an uncanny whistling sound to my ears. His lips were curved into a smirk that revealed his long fangs: fangs that were not different from my own. Black eyes bore into mine, as if looking into my soul: searching for weaknesses.
I wasn't about to give him any.
Black and red liquid trickled from the wound on my neck down to my white shirt, where I could see it. It was my blood, of course. Not quite a human's, but not a vampire's, either.
It wasn’t either, it was both, like me. I had the speed and strength of a vampire, but I didn't need to drink blood, and things that hurt vampires didn't hurt me.
I was the ideal Slayer.
And that made me hate the job even more.
Unsurprisingly, it was he who made the first move. He lunged at me, and I sidestepped, pocketing the crucifix. What was the point? I wouldn't need it.
The vampire stumbled for only a moment before whirling to face me again. He was taller than me: much taller. But that had never made a difference before.
My hand tightened almost convulsively around the stake, and I lifted it slightly as he lunged at me again. I shifted my stance a little, then moved out of the way and drove the wood into his heart.
He froze, as I knew he would, and I turned away so I wouldn’t have to see him crumble into ashes. He screamed, and it rang in my ears like a bell, and even after it stopped it continued to repeat over and over….I sat down and placed my forehead to my knees, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could just forget the sound.
Minutes-or were they hours? I no longer knew-passed before I was finally able to stand. And although the scream had gone, the thought that always haunted me still lingered.
What if he had once been human? that little thought asked me. What if you just killed someone you could have saved?
For I might have been able to save him. I had been bitten once, and forced to drink the vampire’s blood. Using a cure, I managed to get rid of my desire for human blood, but not the fangs. And my blood was forever tainted by the same blackness that hung around me.
A sigh escaped my lips, and I pull out a mirror from my pack to look mournfully at my reflection.
My skin is as pale as any vampire’s, and my deep-set green eyes stare back at me with no trace of the turmoil that is in my head and heart. And my fangs… the only feature I have that shows I am not quite human.
Slowly, I look away from the mirror and down at the pile of dust at my feet. One vampire down. So many more to go.
And as I watch the dust blow away on the wind, I wonder if my job is really worth risking my life. Is it worth it, to protect others from those who were once human?
I wish I knew. 8月12日 The Lugonzbi Stone: Chapters 9-13Chapter 9: The Council of Elders
Jen wasn’t ready. For one thing, she hadn’t known what the ‘Council’ would look like. She also didn’t really know if they would let her stay or not…she could only hope they were kind and understanding. But as soon as she stepped into the tent, her hopes were squashed, for none of the old elves-they all looked like old, with their gray hair and wrinkled faces-were smiling, and their backs were rather… well… stiff against the backs of their tall-backed wooden chairs. Morèwan sat down on one of the log benches, but when Jen was about to sit, the earth mage shook her head. So the girl remained standing, though she was wondering why. There were eleven people in the room, including Jen and Morèwan. The one at the front of the table seemed to be the leader, for his chair was larger than the others, and it also seemed to be more cushioned. Plus, he had a very large beard. Why that made him look like a leader, Jen would never know. It just did. The elf with a beard stood up and motioned for Jen to sit down in the seat across from him, which was a fairly small, stiff wooden chair without any cushioning. Jen simply studied it for a moment before slowly shaking her head. It looked suspiciously like one of those chairs that tied you up when you sat down in it.. The bearded elf didn’t look too happy about this, but he said nothing more to her and turned his gaze to Morèwan. He spoke to her, his tone rather sharp. Eventually, the earth mage nodded and turned to Jen. “Council Leader Valdamir insists on you sitting down,” she said calmly. Even though Jen highly doubted that Council Leader Valdamir had said that in so little words, she sat down slowly in the seat, which was quite uncomfortable. She spent most of the time that Valdamir was talking to Morèwan just shifting in the seat, trying to get comfortable. Of course, when Morèwan turned to Jen, the girl had stopped shifting, but she still wasn’t comfortable. “Council Leader Valdamir,” Morèwan began, “Wants to know how you met The Stone Lord.” Jen blinked. “The who?” Morèwan frowned. “You don’t know who the Stone Lord is, child?” “No, I don’t,” replied an irritable Jen. She disliked being called ‘child’. “He is also called Henuki,” Morèwan said slowly. Valdamir shuddered as he heard the name. Jen nodded slowly. “Ah, yes, him!” And so, she spent the next ten minutes or so telling the Council of Elders-which was the name she had decided to give them, seeing as they were all so old-and Morèwan what had happened in the dwarves’ mountain. She added the story of Henuki’s past, and was puzzled when she noticed that the Lead Elder had paled slightly. Once she was finished, the Council Members started to talk to each other loudly in elvish. Jen listened to it for a while, then asked loudly, “Can I stay?” No one answered. They were too busy talking. “Can I stay?” she asked again, only a bit more loudly. This time, everyone went silent, and ten pairs of brown and green eyes turned to her. Of course, that made her slightly uncomfortable, so she didn’t say anything else. Morèwan turned to Valdamir and translated Jen’s question. The Council Leader thought for a moment, then nodded. “Haldamir!” Valdamir called. Jen frowned slightly at Morèwan’s odd expression. Was the earth mage jealous of Haldamir…? And if she was, why? The second-in-command entered a few minutes later and stood by the entrance, hands folded behind his back. “Yes, Council Leader?” As he spoke, he bowed his head respectfully to Valdamir, who smiled and nodded. The Elder said something to Haldamir in rapid elvish. Throughout the entire time, Haldamir just nodded. Eventually, he turned to Jen and offered her a quick smile. “Follow me,” he whispered to her. “I’ll take you to the place you’ll be staying.” He smiled at her again and walked out. Jen glanced at Morèwan, then laughed and walked out. The earth mage’s face had turned an interesting shade of green… Haldamir glanced at the girl curiously once they were both outside the tent. “What is so amusing?” She shook her head. “Its nothing. Now, where am I going to stay…?”
Chapter : 10 Caught in the middle
From her vantage point on the hill, Jen could see the two opposing armies quite clearly; along with the camps, leaders, weapons, and everything else.
Two weeks had passed since Jen had come to the elves’ camp, and many things had changed. Henuki’s army had just come a week ago, and at that point, everyone in the camp had raced around, doing everything they could to prepare for the fateful day when the two armies would meet on the cleared area close by. Henuki had purposely moved to this spot so that most of the elves would have to fight on the ground, instead of in trees. Jen had found this hill a couple of days ago, and often observed both sides from it, seeing as it was the divider line between them. The girl sighed and pushed her thoughts away, then focused on the scene in front of her.
Morèwan’s army was clad entirely in green, and every elf carried a weapon. There weren’t many black or red haired people in the Earth mage’s army, and so from where Jen stood, the army looked like a swirling mass of green, blond, brown and peach blobs.
The girl leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and propping her chin on her palms. She was careful not to break the bow Haldamir had given her; a slender weapon that seemed to be made of yew. The second-in-command of Morèwan’s army had taught her how to use it, then said if she was lucky, she would not need to use it.
Jen doubted that she would be lucky.
She let her gaze wander over the army of elves, and spotted Haldamir gathering all the troops to his large tent, most likely to give them a pep talk. Jen debated whether to go over and listen, or stay where she was and think. Eventually, she chose to stay and watch the armies. Anything other than making herself more aware of the terrible situation she was in right now.
As Jen watched, a sudden thought struck her, and a frown crept onto her lips. Why did Haldamir have to do all the work while Morèwan just sat back and did her magic tricks? she wondered. Why didn’t Morèwan fight?
Jen laughed; a short, almost regretful sound. What did it matter? It wasn’t like she would ever find out the answer to such questions.
I’m just nervous, she decided. It’s just the feeling of being poised on the brink of war, and unable to do anything but watch. She sighed, and gently placed the bow on the ground before getting up and starting to pace.
After a moment, she stopped, and turned to face the other army; Henuki’s army. The contrast between the two companies was so complete it was almost frightening. Nearly every dwarf had dark skin, and there were many different colors of hair color. While the elves wore no armor, the dwarves wore pieces of leather or metal, depending on the age of the wearer. Also, the dwarves didn’t carry bows, but long swords instead.
A dark figure weaving in and out of the crowds caught her attention, and she strode over top the edge of the hill to get a closer look. “Goodness,” she gasped, peering at the broad face to see if she was right. It wasn’t the fact that the leader of the dwarves himself was out -he didn’t seem the kind to miss a battle- but more that he seemed to be encouraging his troops. Two figures trailed behind him. One was Dandin, but she didn’t know who the other was.
She was not sure how long she watched the armies. You could say she wasn’t even paying attention to anything, just staring off into space, pondering what she had seen and what had happened to her. Perhaps that was the reason for her startled reaction when Embers came up behind her.
“Jen?” a soft voice said behind her, sounding uncertain. The girl jumped, and whirled around to face the red-haired elven woman.
“Oh, Indis, it’s you,” Jen said. A small, ironic smile fit itself on her lips briefly before fading. “Why aren’t you with the army?”
It was Embers’ turn to smile. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t call me that,” she replied teasingly. Over the past weeks, Jen had formed a friendship with Embers and Haldamir.
Jen grinned. “It seems to be what others call you, so why can’t I?”
The elf grew solemn. “Only the people who do not know me, or talk to me in elvish call me that, child,” she murmured, her gaze distant.
The girl was puzzled, but she didn’t pursue the subject. “You never answered my question,” she said, mainly to break the uncomfortable silence that seemed to be hanging between them.
“And which one was that?” Embers asked. It was obvious that her attention was elsewhere, and Jen really saw no point in asking her again.
“Never mind,” she muttered, a soft sigh escaping her lips. There was a moment of silence, which Embers broke by saying suddenly, “I have never learned how to fight. Haldamir and my brothers tried to teach me, but I never paid any attention. The whole thing seemed so… barbaric to me. I mean, why do people glorify people killing others? Was it because they couldn’t stand the truth that war is terrible? Was it because they wanted their comrade’s deaths to be viewed as honorable, instead of cold-blooded murder? I just wish I knew.” The elf stood at the top of the hill for a moment, as if thinking about what she had said, then abruptly turned around and walked away.
Jen stared after her. Well, she answered the question, was her first thought, then she managed to turn her thoughts to what her friend had said. War was not glorious, as she had known already, but why did someone start pretending it was? Eventually, her thoughts turned to the two opposing forces, and a soft sigh escaped her. She didn’t want to fight for the elves, for in some ways, she agreed with Henuki. Humans could be greedy, rude, mean, controlling and even scared of what was different. But that didn’t mean that they should be eliminated from the planet! Sure, Henuki was a bit rash: after all, his village had been burned to the ground a little under 1000 years ago… still, she thought that humans hand to change, for the good of the other races.
Jen started to pace, no longer paying attention to either of the armies. Suddenly, she jerked around to face Morèwan’s army. Why did they even bother to fight for the humans? The elves liked the humans even less then Henuki. Jen had a hunch that it had something to do with a sense of duty; a feeling that they had to do something….well, except for Morèwan. Morèwan had a completely different agenda.
The girl’s heart clenched in her chest painfully, and she wished that someone could be there to make her think of something else, anything else.
“Oh, curse this!” she cried in frustration, and stamped her foot… just as she heard a trumpet blare from the dwarves’ side. Almost instantly, the two armies started to run to their chosen positions. “They are starting the war,” Jen murmured, almost not believing that it could happen. With a soft sigh, she started to walk down the hill. There was no point in staying on the hill, for there was no safety there.
Chapter: 11 The Battle and Retreat From the very beginning, it was hard to think of it as a war. For one thing, only half of the elves’ army used daggers, so only that half of the army was on the ground, approaching the dwarves. The other half were in the trees, arrows knocked on their bows. It was a large clearing toward the middle of the forest. The ground was mainly brown, though there was an occasional patch of yellowed grass or a stump. It was almost like the area had been cleared in preparation for the war that would determine the future for all races.
Henuki stood at the front of the dwarvish army, sword in hand. He knew this place. The 990 years that had passed rid the area of the ashes of the burned town, but he still knew it. Gods, how could he not? His village, his home had been in the exact same spot he now stood in. Only a fool would forget what had happened so long ago, and though Henuki was many things, he certainly was not a fool. Standing in this place brought many painful memories to the surface; ones that he preferred to drown with wine, rum, ale, beer… what ever kind of alcohol was near. But there was no alcohol; this was war, and it was too late to retreat now. Henuki dug the heel of his boot into the soft ground, all the while watching the approaching green army. He wasn’t worried, oddly enough. Heck, he hadn’t even bothered to wear armor. What was the point? He would either die or he wouldn’t. Personally, he liked the former option.
He spotted a flash of white behind a tree, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, hoping he hadn’t seen correctly. Could he have possibly seen the girl, hiding behind the same trees he had so long ago, only to see what she hoped could not be true?
It all came back to him in a flash: the knights, burned village, screams, smoke rising above the trees, snow under his sandaled feet. It painted a vivid picture in his mind, so graphic that he nearly staggered in shock. “Not now, Henuki,” he muttered to himself, “Wait ‘till the war is over to have flashbacks…” And so he became the Stone Lord once again; patient and cold. Of course he was patient. He had waited for 990 years to come fight this war at last. Waiting a couple of hours or days to remember what had happened so long ago wouldn’t kill him. Z Z Z Jen could only watch helplessly from her hiding place as the two armies engaged in battle. Green mixed in with the gray, brown and black and arrows rained down from the trees. Jen could only use one word to describe it; chaos. She wanted to stop it, and somehow, she would figure out a way to. But how to was the question. Running out into the middle wouldn’t help any…or would it?
Jen bit her lip, watching Haldamir, who had chosen to fight on the ground. He was currently in combat with Henuki, who had sheathed his sword and now used a black dagger. The elves and dwarves both had a disadvantage. The elves only could fight up close because of their short daggers, and the dwarves could only fight from a distance because they had long swords. It made a very boring battle to watch.
Haldamir was not doing so well. Henuki clearly had the superior skill, and now had Haldamir’s knife in his other hand. The Stone Lord had an almost crazy look in his eyes as he stepped closer to Haldamir, both daggers raised. Jen cried out and pushed through the battle until she reached them. Henuki raised one dagger, as if to throw it, but Jen pushed Haldamir down as Henuki threw Haldamir’s dagger. Unfortunately, it landed in her shoulder blade. She screamed, pain nearly blinding her, then fainted. Z Z Z Henuki stared down at the girl as Haldamir got up. The Stone Lord’s blood rage had faded, and he was just beginning to realize what had just happened. Haldamir knelt by the girl’s side and yanked the dagger out, cursing.
“You idiot!” the elf exclaimed, glaring at Henuki. “She was just a girl! That dagger was poisoned!”
“Poisoned?” Henuki repeated stupidly. Then what he had just done struck him like a blow. “Oh, Gods, no,” he whispered, falling to his knees next to the girl. He may have done exactly what Dandin had told him that he would do: he may have killed a child.
“Yes, poisoned!” Haldamir snapped. “She was only twelve, for goodness sake! She saved me from you.”
Henuki cringed, feeling like a young boy. Twelve. Dandin had been right again; she was only two years older than he had been 990 years ago. “Why did you poison the blade?” he asked, glancing at Haldamir.
“I was hoping to use it on you!” Haldamir snarled, inspecting the girl’s wound. Henuki said nothing for a long time, then stood up. “What are you doing?” demanded Haldamir, looking up at the Stone Lord. “Something I should have done a while ago,” Henuki murmured, then shouted in dwarvish, “Retreat! Dwarves, retreat to the mountain! The battle is lost!”
Haldamir stared at Henuki in shock as the dark elf gently picked up Jen’s limp body. “Do you think Morèwan could heal her?” he asked.
Haldamir nodded slowly, also standing up. “I suppose,” he said slowly, only to realize that he was speaking to air. Henuki had already left. Haldamir cursed and followed the other elf, who was at least a half-head taller than any of the other elves.
Chapter: 12 An Unknown Source of Comfort
Jen woke in a haze of pain. She had no idea where she was, or why she hurt so much. Still, she didn’t make a sound even as she pulled herself upright, one hand on a wooden pole that was by her bed. She turned her head slightly to look around, only to gasp as a jolt of pain ran from her right shoulder blade all the way up to her neck. She fell back on the soft pillows, her eyes still closed.
“I’m not sure what we can do, Stone Lord. The poison has spread… it is doubtful she will survive,” a female voice said quietly. Jen frowned. The voice… it sounded so familiar… Could it be Embers? She was having a bit of difficulty understanding anything at the moment. She wanted to ask why they were talking about poison, and a person surviving, but she couldn’t move her mouth. And wasn’t the Stone Lord Henuki? Why would he be with Embers, who he had captured? This was probably just another dream… but it was different than the others, which had all been nightmares.
“Surely you have some herb that can combat the poison,” a man protested.
‘He sounds desperate,’ Jen mused in her detached state. ‘I wonder why…’
“We have already given them to her, but they don’t seem to change anything. Besides, you threw the dagger quite hard. She is weakened by the blood loss.” A different woman this time. This one had a much calmer voice than Embers, but she managed to sound scolding at the same time.
“I did not know what I wanted to do,” the man said softly, sounding utterly miserable. “Or what I was doing…”
“You’re right, you didn’t,” Embers snapped. “And now Jen…” She trailed off. Jen could tell that the elven woman was about to cry. Frowning in concern, Jen tried to push herself up with her right hand. Suddenly, she felt warm liquid trailing down her back from her shoulder blade. Then came the pain. The terrible, terrible pain. She made a small noise that was between a scream and a sob and fell back on the bed. She heard the man curse and stride over to her. She heard a slight rustling as he knelt by her side, then a cool hand on her forehead.
“Its all right,” a soft voice told her soothingly, brushing her hair out of her face gently. Jen, slowly sinking into an oblivion of white hot pain, clung to that voice like it was a lifeline.
“Don’t leave, please,” she whispered.
“I swear that I will not leave your side,” the man replied quietly, his melodiously accented voice still soothing. “Now rest, young one. You have had a long day.”
Happy that he would stay by her side, the girl surrendered to the weariness that had been struggling to claim her.
Chapter: 13 The Surprise
After what felt like an eternity, Jen finally emerged from the void. Sight returned gradually, and at first, she could only see the foot of the bed she was in. But eventually she could look around the tent for the first time.
The tent’s fabric was made of a white material, and there were many beds scattered around. At first, Jen thought she was the only one in the tent, but then she turned her gaze to her bedside, she realized that the man who had comforted her during the few times she had woken up was sitting in the chair next to her, asleep.
And he wasn’t who she had expected him to be.
He stirred, as if he sensed her eyes on him, but didn’t wake. His unbound hair fell to his shoulders, and for the first time, Jen could see his pointed ears.
She slowly stood and was surprised to find that the wound that had once caused her so much pain was now only a dull ache. She dimly wondered how long she had been asleep, then pushed her thoughts away for later.
Henuki shifted again, only this time he woke. Jen-who had turned to face him when she had heard the rustling-found herself staring into silver eyes that were wide with child-like fear. To Jen’s disappointment, that revealing emotion faded, and was replaced with concern.
“You should not be up,” he said softly as he stood up.
“You were the one who helped me,” she commented with a frown. “But you were also the one who hurt me… how can you be both?”
He didn’t speak and simply pushed her down. His callused hands were gentle, even though she could tell they were better for blacksmithing or something like that rather then for healing teenagers.
The Stone Lord turned about as someone stepped into the tent. It turned out to be Embers, and he relaxed instantly.
“Henuki, your trial is in an hour..” the elven woman started to say, then stopped when she saw Jen sitting on the bed. A smile spread across her features, and she instantly walked across the tent and hugged the girl tightly.
“I missed you,” Embers murmured at last, pulling back. “You were unconscious for two weeks! Henuki never left your side…”
Jen blinked and looked up at the male elf, who had been watching silently. “You did? But I thought…”
“Not everything is as it seems,” Henuki said simply. Embers smiled as Jen just shook her head.
The elven woman then turned to Henuki. “As I said, your trial is in an hour. They would’ve let me protest against you, but they learned that I wouldn’t..” She smiled thinly. “Anyways, I came to wish you luck.” She hugged Jen again, then left.
The girl looked up at Henuki. “A lot has happened while I was unconscious,” she said slowly.
He nodded and sat down in the chair, folding his hands behind his neck and stretching out. “Yes, a lot has happened,” he agreed. “And I am guessing you wish me to ‘fill you in’.”
Jen smiled and nodded. “Exactly.”
Henuki nodded again. “Understandable. You are curious.” He lowered his hands and leaned forward. She noticed that he had now folded his hands in his lap. “After you-“ he paused as he tried to figure out how to phrase it-“fainted, I called a retreat and carried you to Morèwan’s tent, then surrendered myself to the elves. They would have put me into a prison tent and executed me on the spot, but they still had you to tend to, and Haldamir had demanded that I would have a proper trial. He also ordered that I would be allowed to have my own tent and I could look to see how you were doing.” The elf chuckled. “It certainly has been amusing to watch the elves scamper around, and none of them will look at me. Most seem to think I am a murderer…”
Jen frowned. “But… aren’t you, in a way? I mean, you did start a war, and surely some people must have died…”
Henuki shook his head. “No, Jennifer. There were two who were wounded, and one of the two was you. No one died.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It was not even a war to begin with. I had just hoped to beat the elves back enough so….”
“So you could get the humans,” finished Jen. Her voice was soft, and she seemed sad. “But why would you do it…?”
He met her gaze steadily, and for a moment, she could detect a trace of sorrow. “Is it really that hard to guess?” he asked. “Is it that hard to understand why I do things?”
“No, its not,” she replied, shaking her head. “But…why would you hold a grudge for so long?”
His smile was sad. “I had nothing else,” he said softly, then when she didn’t answer, he sighed and stood up. “I must go now. I hope to see you after the trial, though it is not likely.” He bowed gracefully, turned and walked out, his cloak billowing out behind him.
Jen stared after him. She sighed and shook her head, then slowly stood up and walked to a mirror, only to stare in shock at the girl staring back at her.
It looked like she was years older. Her face had a gaunt look to it, and she had large bags under her eyes. Her white-blond hair was straggly, and someone had cut it so it rested at her shoulders, instead of at her elbows.
She sighed softly and brushed off her white shirt-seemingly, someone had changed her clothes as well- then started to walk out of the tent. She was slow, after all, she was still healing, but she would have to live.
She looked around and frowned. Henuki had been right, everything was in utter turmoil. Elves were running all around with bows, arrows, daggers or fabric in their hands. None of them seemed to have any idea what to do, and no one was directing them.
She paused as she saw the former leader of the dwarves step into a large tent that she had seen before, then hesitated. What was she doing? She didn’t want to see the trial of the man who had destroyed her belief that no one was truly evil.
But then he had made her believe in it again.
Jen scowled blackly at that thought, then walked into the tent after Henuki.
------ Hahahaha! I am EVIL! Because I shall leave you there! Hahaha!*coughs and shifts* Sorry. I'm tired, and I'm trying to stay up till two. That's how I finished the ninth chapter... I was bored. Anyways, please comment, I like suggestions.
8月8日 Kait the HackerOkay, so most of you are probably wondering who Kait is. Like most of the other stories I've done, Kait's story is based on a role play character of mine. This story isn't set in medieval times, so its more of a science fiction story...anyways, read and enjoy!
To most who knew her, it wouldn't be surprising that Kait had fallen asleep in front of her laptop, which was displaying some odd program on its screen. She was curled up in her blue rolling chair, her black hair falling over her dark features. She was sleeping peacefully, and one hand supported her head, which was resting against the keyboard. Her white shirt was slightly worn, but it didn't have any stains. And her legs were curled up beneath her. She wasn't that old: perhaps sixteen. The girl stirred slightly as some rays of light hit her eyes from the open window, which the desk was in front of. She opened her dark blue eyes and looked around, blinking rapidly to try and wake herself up. She stood-groaning as long-inactive muscles protested-and looked down at her watch with a soft sigh. She was going to be late for breakfast, but she didn't really care. Despite the fact that she had just gotten a lot of sleep, she still looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes, and she yawned as she walked to the door of her room. Why was she so tired? The nightmares, of course. The nightmares that had plagued her for two years. She sighed softly, and instead of opening the door, she just rested her forehead against it. Well, that and the fact that the police still weren't happy with her for hacking into their system...But they had deserved it! After what they had done to her... Against her will, her hand raised up and lightly touched the scar that was on the back of her head. They had placed a microchip in part of her brain. Her hands curled into fists, and she scowled. Even though it had been a while since it had happened, she was still angry.. She pushed her thoughts away, and opened the door, then walked out. It was time for classes now...she sighed and silently walked down the steps.
7月29日 Chapter 7&8 of The Lugonzbi StoneChapter 7: An Old Friend
After Embers had told Jen the story, the girl had been quite eager to get a move on. The elven woman had simply agreed quietly, and they had started to walk through the forest. Neither of them talked, and the silence hung between them like a weight. It was almost as if the two had talked so much before that they no longer had anything to talk about. It was an odd experience, one that Jen didn’t really like. They had walked for about an hour when Embers suddenly stopped and raised her hand. Jen nearly ran into the elvish woman, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Do you hear anything?” Embers asked the girl softly. She paused as she remembered something and shook her head. “Never mind. Its probably nothing….” She slowly started to walk again. Jen followed her. It didn’t take long for whatever Embers had heard to show itself. For the two had only taken two steps before an elvish man dropped down in front of them and pointed an arrow at them. He was the one Jen had met earlier-the one who had tried to convince her not to go with Dandin-but she saw none of his formal warmth. Instead, he had a frown on his face, and was watching them intently. “Haldamir,” Embers said in a low voice. “Do you really need to threaten your cousin?” She lifted up her hair to show her pointed ears. The elf blinked and lowered his bow. “Embers?” he asked in disbelief. “But… you were captured by the Stone Lord!” Embers grinned. “Yes, and I escaped, with the help of Jen here.” She gestured to the girl as she spoke, and Haldamir’s gaze instantly moved to her. Once again, an expression of complete bafflement crossed over his features. He unstrung his bow and put the arrow in his quiver, then shook his head. “The girl who went off with the dwarves helped my cousin escape,” he mumbled. “This will be difficult to explain to Morèwan….” “Don’t tell me you are still working for her!” Embers exclaimed, some annoyance in her voice. “She’s annoying, and you do all the work. You should be leading them, not her.” “She is the one who united the tribes,” Haldamir replied wearily. “The council granted her control. There is nothing I can do.” Embers scowled, then turned to Jen, who had simply been listening with a baffled expression on her face. After all, she didn’t know who this ‘Morèwan’ was. “Would you like to see a real elf camp?” the elven woman asked. The girl nodded eagerly. “Yes.” Haldamir laughed and led them to the elvish camp.
Chapter 8: Morèwan
It only took them about a half an hour to get to the elf’s camp, and that half hour was the most enjoyable time that Jen had had since she had come to this strange place. Haldamir mostly talked to Embers, but he spoke in English-or what sounded like English to Jen-so the girl could understand, and then he would often explain things to her. There were even times that Embers would make a joke, and they would all laugh. However, when they finally reached the camp, the two elves fell silent. Like everything else in this world, it was not what she had expected. She had thought that there would be small buildings in the trees, and elves climbing down by using ladders. What she saw was quite familiar. The camp was set in a large clearing where the ground was trampled flat. Many different colored tents were set up in various places, and only a few elves walked around. There were two large tents set up in the middle: one was green, and the other was gray. Basically, it looked like a campsite or something like that, not a place where a war would take place. Altogether, Jen was not impressed. When Jen had thought of Morèwan, she had pictured a kind-looking woman who could help her with her problem. But as she followed Haldamir and Embers, she realized she didn’t know anything about Morèwan. Oh sure, she knew that Morèwan would lead the elves against Henuki, but that was it. But it seemed, like everything else in this world, Morèwan wasn’t the person Jen expected. The first thing Jen noticed as the woman walked towards them was the fact that she was young. While the girl had been expecting a woman who was at least thirty, Morèwan appeared to be in her early twenties. She was short, and her hair-which was brown with green streaks-, fell to her hips. She had a rounded face, the same slanted eyebrows that Embers had, but she also had high cheekbones. Her skin was tan, and even though she was young, it had a weathered look. Forest green eyes were framed by thick eyelashes. She was dressed simply in a loose brown tunic that was tucked into her dark green skirt, which was held up by a leather belt. How did Jen know this woman was Morèwan? Simple: because every elf she passed showed some form of respect for her. “So, Haldamir, you managed to free Embers,” Morèwan said softly, her face expressionless. She turned her gaze to Embers, but instead of looking at the girl next, her eyes rested on Haldamir again. Jen managed to hold in her indignant comment and chose to watch instead. “I did nothing, Morèwan.” Haldamir sounded quite awkward, and… timid? Why would he be timid? He was taller than Morèwan…was there something that Jen didn’t know about the woman? “Then who helped you escape?” Morèwan’s question was directed at Embers this time. The elven woman smiled and gestured to Jen. “This girl did. She helped me escape Henuki’s prison.” For the first time, Morèwan’s gaze turned to the girl. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Haldamir in shock. “You brought a human here.” she murmured. She didn’t sound angry, or surprised; she just said it like it was a fact. “The Council will not be happy.” Haldamir frowned. “But… didn’t you hear Embers? This girl got her free…” “We shall have to talk to the Council about it,” Morèwan said coolly. She turned her gaze to Jen. When she spoke, her voice was cool, and Jen got the feeling that they wouldn't get along well. The girl glanced at Embers, and was surprised to find that the elven woman looked worried. Embers noticed her gaze and managed a weak smile, then said softly, “You’d best go with Morèwan. It’ll be fine..” Jen hesitated, but when she noticed that Morèwan walked away, hastily followed her. This ‘Council’ couldn’t be that bad. No matter what would happen, she would be ready. 7月6日 Elia's storyOkay, now I'm in a goofy mood, but also a sad mood, so I'm going to write something that will be rather..odd.
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It was nearly dawn, and the dirty tavern was nearly empty. A weary barkeep stood at the counter, and a young woman who looked to be about eighteen was sitting in the middle of the tavern. She was giggling, and had three empty mugs in front of her. Judging by the way she was teetering in her seat, and the fact that she couldn't seem to stare at anything for a long time, she was drunk. Her hood was pulled over her face, and a pack was dumped on the termite-infested table. A wooden stake had fallen out of it, for it was open, but she didn't seem to notice.
The barkeep sighed and looked at the woman. She was certainly an odd one. He had never seen her there before, and yet she had managed to beat most of the men in a drinking contest. And the one time she had smiled, he could've sworn he saw fangs. But she couldn't be a vampire...she wore a crusifix around her neck, and she carried the weapons of a Slayer around with her.
He slowly walked over to her and gently pulled the half-empty mug out of her hand. She looked up at him with wide, unfocused eyes, and for a moment, he felt a flash of sympathy for the girl. She had come here at dusk, and had instantly ordered the strongest drink he had. It was obvious that something had happened that she hadn't liked, and she wanted badly to stop thinking. Still, he did want to sleep at some point, and this girl would get a nasty hangover if she didn't stop.
"What are you doing?" she asked. She had a light voice, and her words were only slightly slurred.
"You have to stop drinking, dear," he said quiety. "Its almost dawn... what was your name again?" She had told him, but he couldn't remember.
"Elia," she mumbled, pushing a black lock of hair out of her eyes. "Elia Slayer."
The barkeep frowned at that. So, she was a Slayer. But what was she doing in this rundown place?
"What are you trying to forget, Elia?" he asked slowly as he sat down across from her. Her green orbs met his brown ones and he could detect a trace of sorrow.
"He left me," she murmured, almost child-like. "He left me for another, after he promised me..." She shook her head. "I just... I don't..." A tear ran down her cheek, and she wiped it away.
Oh, so it was boy trouble. The barkeep leaned forward. "Listen, Elia. Just forget him, all right? Live the life you were supposed to live."
She didn't speak, and simply pulled down her hood, revealing a pale, delicate face. Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and it fell over her shoulder. "I don't want to though," she murmured. "I can't forget him. It.. doesn't seem right." She shook her head. "He accepted me even though I was a failure. And then he left for another..." She closed her eyes in pain, then opened them and stood up. "But I will follow your advice. I will go on... and perhaps I'll stop others from feeling the way I do now." Her smile was sad, and the barkeep once again saw her small fangs. She tossed him a coin, then vanished.
7月5日 A sad storyI'm in a sad mood. So I'm going to write a sad story. You don't have to read it, and this is completely random. Actually, its based on my role play character, Alyssa. But to the story...
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The clanging of metal against metal rang in Alyssa's ears as she fought her way through the battlefield, along with screams of pain, anger and fear. Even though she had been a mercenary for a year, she could never get used to the sounds of war. In fact, for days after, their cries would ring in her head, and she would often get sick just remembering it.
But it was her job. And she was good at it.
Many said that being a mercenary was not a good job for women. In fact, Alyssa was the only woman mercenary that ever existed, and she could tell why. Dealing with the constant nightmares... only men would be stupid enough to do it.
So why was she one? Simple: she hadn't had an option at the time. And it certainly gave her freedom, though that was partially because most thought she was 'Al', a fifteen-year-old boy who had taken up the life of a mercenary. No one thought of her as Alyssa, the seventeen-year-old girl who had once been an innkeeper's daughter.
"Alyssa!" a man cried, and the woman stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't even notice when she got cut on the shoulder, and automatically blocked a strike aimed at her head with her sword. She hastily recovered and fought off her opponent, then raced toward the sound. She didn't even notice that her boots were soaked with blood.
Soon enough, she found herself in a place where bodies littered the ground, but no one was fighting there. There was a man standing in the middle, staring down at a body that appeared to still be breathing. A cry tore from her lips as the man raised his sword to strike the killing blow, and without thinking, she ran toward him and knocked the sword out of his hand. She placed her sword at his neck, not even noticing that the cap that had held her hair up had fallen off.
"Go," she said harshly. She didn't bother disguising her voice, for she was beyond caring. Perhaps the man noticed that, for he hastily picked up his sword and rushed back into the battle. Instantly, Alyssa dropped to her knees so she was kneeling by the body's side. "Jack," she murmured. Her eyes were locked on his bloodstained face, which was so familiar, and yet... now that it was so pale, he looked like a different man. His eyes were closed, and for a second, she thought he was dead. But then she saw his chest rising and falling slowly, and she started to search for wounds.
And then she wished she hadn't. For as soon as she had moved his cloak, she had seen a deep gash running from his shoulder to his waist. She swallowed hard and started to move his cloak back, then found her hands caught in his. He had opened his eyes, and he was now staring at her.
"Alyssa," he whispered. "You came."
"You called me," she whispered back. "I just wish I had come earlier..." To her surprise, a tear ran down her cheek and fell on his face. She hadn't cried for three years...
He raised his hand and placed it on her face. "Don't cry, Al. You know it was bound to happen sooner or later. Now I want you to honor my last request." Considering he knew the wound was fatal, he was quite calm.
She nodded. "Anything..."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Don't let this happen to you Al. Give up being a mercenary... find something else. I don't want you to die.." he winced "-like this."
Alyssa hesitated, then nodded. "I'll try," she murmured. He nodded, and she watched helplessly as her friend, teacher and love died. And as she watched, she realized that she couldn't do what he had asked. But she didn't know why she couldn't. She simply sat there for a moment, then stuck her sword into the ground next to him, picked up his sword, and went back into the battle. 6月24日 Dadum... feel like writing.I am actually writing something that isn't fantasy! :o Okay, okay, its shocking. I get the point. Anyways, it is called... Phantom of the Role play!!*silence* -_- Honestly, couldn't you people be a bit more enthusiastic?xD -------- From the beginning, Elinor had been a computer geek. She had owned a computer since first grade, and she knew her way around the internet better than most programmers. She never hand wrote anything if she could type instead, and always carried a small Sony Picturebook around with her. Her grades weren't perfect, but they weren't bad either, and she was always the first one to turn into a project. Her parents always worried over the fact that she had no friends at school, but when they asked her about it, she would merely say, "My friends are on the internet", and that was that. By now, you are probably thinking, "Oh great. Another cliche story. Where's the action? The excitement?" Personally, I can't blame you. But you see, Elinor had broken the main rule when it comes to talking to people on the net: she had told someone she was going to meet with him. Now, you have to understand, Elinor was not pretty. She had bushy brown hair that was usually put into a ponytail, dark eyes that were frammed by large glasses, and usually wore modest clothing. She had a heart shaped face, a long nose, thick eyebrows and ears that stuck out. She was also slightly overweight, and was at least 5'9. She was not a popular girl, and had never wanted to be one. She wasn't even interested in having a boyfriend. However, the boy she had met three years before-when she was twelve- had changed everything. *** Muwhahaha. I shall write more later. Toodles! 5月4日 The Lugonzbi Stone, Chapters 4-5Well, looks like I need to put up the last two chapters that I have done. Well... I have chapters from the end of the book done, but I can't release those yet. I still need to figure out how it goes from this part to that part... but when I finally finish the middle, I will be delighted that I only have to cut and paste.^^ So once again, sit back and enjoy the longest finished part of the book, chapters 4 and 5. ------ Chapter 4: Betrayal
Jen looked up at the large doors in shock. They were huge; with silver threads decorating it in a strange pattern. But right smack in the middle of the doors were symbols, not runes, which were impossible to read. The first one looked a little like an ‘H’, but the rest were indecipherable. She was still staring at the doors when Dandin stepped next to her silently. “In Common, it says ‘House of Stone’,” the dwarf said suddenly as he stared at the doors. His voice was soft, and slightly mournful. “We used the elvish letters to spell it. The ultimate irony.” Jen stared at him, but before she could ask what he meant, the doors were opening. Dandin pushed her in gently, then stepped in after her. The doors shut again, leaving them in utter darkness. She fought down the old fear of the dark, then Dandin muttered something, struck a rock, and a torch flared to life. In the flickering firelight, the dwarf looked gaunt; old. But that passed quickly, and soon he returned to himself. “We’ll go this way,” he informed her softly and gestured to a hallway. She nodded, and he started to walk. After a moment of hesitation, she followed. In a couple of seconds, they entered a large hallway. Jen paused in mid-step and looked around in awe. They had entered a huge chamber; with beams as tall as some buildings and a domed ceiling that harbored many carvings. There was a large counter with steps leading up to it right in the middle of the room, and chairs were strewn about. In fact, many items other than chairs littered the floor; including knives, swords, poles and spears. But none of it took away from the magnificence of the hall itself; which was surely the most amazing thing ever made no matter what race you were of. Even after that moment of silent awe, Jen could only find two words to describe it. “It’s huge!” Dandin grinned. “Yes, it is isn’t it? My grandfather built this as a council hall many thousands of years ago. Before the age of the Stone Lords…” His smile faded. “C’mon, this way,” he said quietly, and walked through another door. Jen stepped in after him, and found that the ceiling was only about a foot above her head. This room appeared to be more of a bedchamber than a hall, for there was a stone bed placed against the wall. Considering the size of the chamber itself, the bed was quite large. There was a table in the middle of the room, and a throne positioned right up against the back wall. In front of it was a tall figure dressed entirely in black, pacing up and down the floor. Dandin looked at Jen, then turned back to the figure. “Henuki!” the dwarf shouted as he took a step forward. “I have brought you what you asked for!” The figure whirled around, and banged his head against the ceiling. He said something loudly that sounded much like a curse, and looked crossly at Dandin. His black hair, Jen noticed, was tied into a ponytail, hiding his ear’s shape. Other then that, he was simply dressed. A black cloak billowed out behind him, and a sword hung by his side. He was hunched over, as he must have been at least 6’7. Or at least, that was how tall Jen thought he was, after all, she was around 5’4, and the ceiling was very close to her head. “What is it Dandin?” the strange man asked, then saw Jen. He jumped, and smashed his head again. Jen giggled as he rubbed his head and sat down in the chair, muttering complaints under his breath. Once he had regained his composer again, he waited for Dandin to reply. “I think you know, Henuki,” the dwarf replied slowly. He took a step forward, and dragged Jen along with him. The man- if Dandin was correct he was called Henuki- nodded. “Yes, I do. So, you managed to find her? I was told by at least ten dwarves it was impossible.” He didn’t seem very amused by it, but more sullen than anything else. Much like a child who didn’t get what he wanted, although Jen didn’t much see the point in comparing this tall man with dark skin to a child. Eventually, his words sank in, and she looked at Dandin in bewilderment. “You were looking for me?” she exclaimed, “Why?” “Because I told him to,” Henuki said calmly, making Jen’s gaze leap to him. The dwarf lowered his eyes, as if in shame. “Fine then, why did you want me?” she snapped. “Because I belief you will play a major part in the future,” the man replied, his silver orbs meeting her glare steadily. “Dandin brought you here for one reason only, and that was so you could rot in my dungeons. Guards!” Jen gasped, and whirled to face the dwarf. “Tell me that is not true!” she whispered. Dandin hung his head, and she closed her eyes in pain. She didn’t even bother to resist as the guards took her by the arms and pulled her out of the room.
Chapter 5: Embers
They threw her into the cell without a word, and locked the door behind her. The girl merely stayed sprawled on the floor, sobbing quietly, until the smell drove her to her feet. “Gosh, do they even wash this place?” she muttered, wrinkling her nose and looking down at the urine-smelling floor. Her tears were forgotten, and replaced with a cold anger. “No,” a woman drawled. “Why should they? Most of the people Henuki meets are killed before they can ever make it here. You and I are lucky; or out of luck. Take your pick.” Jen looked around. “Who said that?” she demanded, sitting down on a stone bench. The owner of the voice stepped out. “Me,” she said simply. The girl observed the newcomer in silence. She had filthy red hair that rested on her shoulders, and green eyes that were filled with bitter amusement. Her dress was ragged and torn and her skin was amazingly pale. She also had pointed ears, but that didn’t bother Jen that much. Her amount of awe had been used up for the day. “And what would your name be?” she asked calmly. The elfin woman raised her eyebrows. “Why do you expect me to tell you, human?” she replied, her voice as cold as ice. “Because I’m sick and tired of people telling me lies or nothing at all,” Jen snapped, folding her arms over her chest. The elvin woman smiled. “That had nothing to do with our conversation,” she informed the girl. “Whatever. I don’t care any more!” Jen exclaimed. She threw her hands up into the air, then lowered them to her side. “Well? Are you going to tell me your name, or will I have to give up?” The elvin woman seemed surprised by this outburst, and she stared at Jen with new respect. One corner of the girl’s mouth twisted upward in a smile that was more out of grudging amusement than anything else. “Indis,” she said finally. “I am called Indis. Or in your tongue, Embers.” “Embers,” Jen repeated. “That is an odd name.” Embers scowled at her. “I never asked your opinion,” she retorted pointedly. Jen didn’t find that worthy of a reply. It was almost amazing how quickly she fell into the patterns of the word-duels, when she had only fought with her 7-year-old brother before. Well, and her enemies at school, who suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal. Although she hadn’t even been in this new world for a day, the idea that there was a bigger picture was already fitting itself into her mind. And somehow, she also knew that she had been captured by the wrong side. The wrong side of what she couldn’t say, but she definitely knew it was the wrong side. Jen glanced at Embers again. So strange… this whole world was strange. Elves, dwarves… why, she bet there would be magic here too! Suddenly, the girl grinned. “Embers,” she whispered. “Do you think there is a way to get out of here?” The elfin woman looked at her like she was crazy. ‘And she’s probably right,’ Jen thought. ‘What am I thinking? Magic? And how are two unarmed people supposed to get out of a dungeon if one doesn’t have magic?’ She sighed softly, and looked around the dimly lit cell. Then, yet another idea hit her. There were no torches! And if torches didn’t light the room, then there had to be a window! In her eagerness, Jen nearly fell off the bench instead of jumping off it. She didn’t care when Embers’ raised her thin eyebrows. If she could figure out how to get out of this dungeon, then she could be captured a million times and meet two thousand Embers without caring. That thought stopped her in mid-step as her anger and sadness came racing back. Yes, she would care if she was captured again; especially if it was by the same person. Jen scowled. “Well, that’s certainly a depressing idea,” she muttered sourly, running her hands over the cool, stone walls of the cell. Now that she was over her shock at Dandin’s betrayal, she could fully observe the cell she had been put it. A little hole was tucked away in the corner, and a little green area surrounded it. The purpose of that hole was very clear, and Jen intentionally stayed away from it. The window that was their only source of light was also in a small corner of the room, and Jen was disappointed to realize that it was barely as big as her head, and it would be impossible for either Embers or herself to fit into it. The floor was the only truly messy thing, and even that wasn’t really filthy. It just… smelled. There were stone benches scattered around the room, and Jen guessed that they were supposed to be used as beds. Just then, a scraping sound caught her attention, and she spotted Embers kneeling by the bar door that was the only apparent way out of the prison. Two trays had been pushed through a slot: both with bread and water on them. Jen absentmindedly noticed that one had more food on it than the other, and she was honestly surprised when Embers handed that one to her. “I was instructed,” the elven woman said dryly, “to give this to you. You have a friend in high places, both figuratively and literally.” Jen ignored her, and looked down at the tray with a sigh. Yes, she had gotten a larger portion, but the food looked quite nasty. What she would give for a cheese pizza. She closed her eyes and pictured it. Her eyes snapped open, however, when Embers gasped. “What did you do?!” the elf exclaimed as Jen stared down at her cheese pizza. “I… I don’t know,” she stammered. “I mean, I just pictured it in my mind, and, and… it appeared, I guess.” “You guess?!” Embers cried as Jen slowly started to eat the pizza. “How can you not know?” Jen chewed her food and prepared to answer, when she suddenly tasted cold, stale bread instead of the warm pizza. She gagged and spat it out, making Embers shake her head in amusement. “It changed back,” she commented, pointing to the water and the bread. “I wonder why… or what made it to change in the first place.” Embers eyed Jen thoughtfully, then pointed at the window. “Close your eyes and try to picture it as a bigger window, with bars,” she said, her voice slightly stern. Jen nodded and closed her eyes, focusing. When she opened them, the window was quite large, and had no bars. But when Embers poked a piece of wood that had fallen off the bed through it, the window abruptly went back to the way it had been; with the piece of wood stuck under a bar. Embers glanced at Jen, eyes gleaming. “Interesting,” she said. *** “Henuki, have you gone mad?” Dandin exclaimed, glaring at his former pupil, who was currently pacing the room. The dwarf was not quite sure, but he thought that the elf looked slightly guilty. “Many people have accused me of being mad,” Henuki said eventually as he turned to face Dandin, “so you would not be the first, and probably not the last. And one girl makes no difference; it is the price of war.” Dandin stared into Henuki’s silver eyes, which were so cold, and yet angry at the same time, and shivered. “‘One girl makes no difference’?” he repeated in horror, “Henuki, she’s only two years older than you were-” Just before Dandin was about to say what had happened to the elf at ten, he found himself lifted up, and staring directly at Henuki’s face, which now looked quite angry. “Say nothing about it!” he hissed, “If you value your life, you will say nothing more about the girl, or my past.” He dropped Dandin and whirled away from him. “Gods,” Dandin whispered as he stood up, eyes wide. This was not the Henuki he had known, not so long ago, who had been simply a grim boy who had learned all too soon that even elves could die. Now he saw Henuki as the elves did; cold, angry, having nothing to loose, and willing to kill anyone who got in his way. But that was not the only side of Henuki- he could pity others, or show mercy… if only Dandin could figure out how to reach that other part of Henuki, which had seemingly vanished as soon as he had caught Embers. Henuki turned back to Dandin and waited for the speech that the dwarf was about to give. “So, you are willing to kill or orphan children, like the humans did to your village?” Dandin demanded, “Are you going to go do the exact same thing that the humans did to you?” The elf’s eyes gleamed. “Yes,” he replied coldly, then suddenly looked at the door, eyes wild. He let out a soft oath as he swayed, then fell back against the stone floor in a faint. *** Embers clapped her hands together in satisfaction. They had been practicing for a good half-hour, and had discovered that Jen could change things into something different, but only temporarily. They had practiced on the bed, the small corner, the door, the window and at long last, the wall, turning them into different things. It was when they had practiced on the wall that Embers had come up with an idea. Jen would turn the wall that was the only thing between them and the outside, then they would escape. Jen was not sure it would work, but was willing to try. “Eat,” Embers ordered, jerking Jen out of her thoughts as the elf pushed a piece of bread into her hands. “We can’t have you fainting if we want to get out of here.” Jen smiled weakly. “I suppose you are right,” she murmured, nibbling on the bread. “You know that I am,” Embers replied sternly, standing up and walking over to the door. She frowned as saw the lack of guards. “Odd…” she said thoughtfully, “Usually they stand right here, exchanging stories, assignments and other such things…” “Who?” Jen asked, glancing up at the elf curiously. Embers shrugged and turned back to the girl. “I’ll tell you later,” she said, “Now, shall we get out of this dump?” Jen nodded and dropped the bread gratefully before standing up. She turned to the wall, and built a mental picture of it in her mind. She then imagined the wall with a large hole through the middle. The girl waited for a mere split second before opening her eyes, and felt a great amount of satisfaction as she saw the large hole. This passed quickly, then a wave of weariness overtook her. Her sight blanked out, and she dimly realized she had fallen on the floor. This only lasted for a moment before her awareness also faded out. *** Embers cursed softly and knelt by the girl’s side. “Dang it,” she murmured, then looked up in surprise as she heard a new, gruff voice told the others in Common, “The Stone Lord has fainted.” “What?!” the two guards exclaimed, then there was a small clatter, which Embers guessed was them dropping their swords. There was no noise after that. “Perfect,” Embers murmured, picking Jen up and stepping out of the hole and into the forest. *** By now, the bedchamber was completely filled with dwarves, who were all crowding around the unconscious Stone Lord. Dandin had managed to push himself to the front of the group. He knelt by elf’s side, an odd expression of anger and concernEven when he wasn’t awake, Henuki could look quite forbidding. Still, there was a trace of sadness on his broad face. “Get back!” Dandin shouted in annoyance as two other dwarves pushed to the front. The two blinked, then meekly stepped back. Dandin was the eldest, so most had to pay him some respect. Just then, Henuki stirred. His eyes fluttered open, then he pushed himself up to his feet and without hesitating, strode over to the door and pushed it open. All the dwarves in the mountain followed him down to the dungeon. The elf pulled the door open to Jen and Embers’ cell, then stepped inside. Dandin heard quite a few gasps as the dwarves spotted the large hole in the wall. Henuki examined the wall for a moment, no expression on his face. He murmured softly in elvish, “The girl did this… Interesting. There will be no point to catch her again if she can get out.” He walked out of the dungeon, a brooding expression on his face, just as the hole in the wall vanished completely. It didn’t take long for Dandin to realize that he and Henuki were the only ones who thought that Jen had used magic to get out, and the other dwarves would take Henuki’s fainting and not going after the girls as a sign of weakness. The Lugonzbi Stone, Chapter 3Because one of my friends urged me to do so, here is where the third chapter shall be.^^ If you haven't read the other two, you might want to. I think it will get a bit confusing if you don't... Anyways, sit back and enjoy the third chapter of the Lugonzbi Stone. Feel free to comment! ------- Chapter 3: Strange Wanderers
By now, Jen had been wandering in this accursed forest for what felt like hours, and still hadn’t found a path or a traveler. She had often heard noises that sounded like trees falling, or someone cutting through the underbrush. She was resting by a gnarled white tree, when she had heard gruff voices speaking in a strange language. Jen quickly climbed the tree, just as the owners of the voices came into the clearing.
“I may be the Stone Lord’s mentor,” the grey-bearded dwarf replied crossly, “But that doesn’t mean I know what goes on in his head. My recommendation is that we don’t even bother to look, just stay out for a couple of hours and then return to the mountain, saying we couldn’t find her.”
“Hmmm, wonder why they spoke in English at the last minute.” Jen muttered, climbing down from the tree.
“Look! There’s that girl who the Stone Lord told us to look for!” the red-bearded dwarf exclaimed excitedly, pointing at Jen.
“They’re looking for you?” the elf said skeptically, looking down at Jen with raised eyebrows. “Well, that’s new.”
“You stay out of this elf!” the red-bearded dwarf growled, glaring at the much taller immortal.
“I am the protector of humans dwarf, and I must do my duty,” the elf replied, and reached back into his quiver…. Only to realize it was empty.
“Oh look, the elf has no weapons, what a shame.” The red bearded dwarf sneered, then was silenced by a glare from Dandin.
“Look elf, we have no quarrel with you,” Dandin said, a large smile on his homely face. “All we want to do is help this girl get out of the forest, is that a crime?”
Despite what the girl had heard the dwarf say earlier, she found herself believing him. With his warm brown eyes, it was very easy to trust him, despite Jen’s best efforts not to. The elf sighed, and looked down at Jen. “Miss, I can’t exactly force you to come with me, so you can go with them if you want.” He said softly.
Jen glanced up at him, then at the dwarves. It was quite obvious that the red-bearded one was sulking, but Dandin was beaming at her, as if the choice was already made. “Um… I think I’ll go with them,” Jen murmured after some thought. The elf nodded, a bit sadly, and started to walk away.
“Well then, now that that is decided, let’s get going. I’d hate to keep you here longer than you have to.” Dandin said, smiling fondly at Jen; who returned the smile, although hers was a bit more shy.
“Let’s go,” the red-bearded dwarf muttered, a small scowl on his lips. Dandin slapped his forehead, as if he had just remembered something.
“Where did my manners go!” the dwarf exclaimed. “I’m so sorry miss; this is my friend, Leias.”
Leias grunted as a response, then started to walk, not giving Jen a chance to reply.
“He’s always like that,” Dandin muttered to the girl, and the two quickly followed. **** The group walked for a long time, Leias never saying a word, and Dandin talking nonstop. Soon enough, they arrived at the base of a large mountain. Jen looked up, and stared for a long time at the tip of the mountain, which, unlike the ones at home, was not covered in snow. In fact, the whole mountain was odd, as it just seemed to jut out of the ground, much like a cliff, only with a gentler slope up. The setting sun was framed behind it, but instead of making it lovely, it made the mountain look more….sinister. The sides of the mountain seemed to be covered in ash, and it had the appearance of an evil beacon shining for all to see for miles and miles. Jen found herself suddenly wishing that she wasn’t so out in the open, and that the forest had not receded so suddenly.Dandin paused, looking up at the mountain. His eyes had a slightly troubled look in them, as if he did not want to go there. Jen wasn’t too thrilled about the idea herself. But when the dwarf spoke, she was more than positive that something was wrong.
“Well, here we are.” Dandin’s voice had an almost regretful tone in it, but there was also a hint of…. Fear? There was no real way to be completely sure, and Jen dismissed it as a childish fantasy. Still, she couldn’t help voicing her surprise at their location.
“Here?” she asked, sliding a glance at the grey-bearded dwarf.
“Yes, someone can help you here,” he replied quietly; but would not meet her gaze. Jen felt a smothering panic rise in her breast, and she hastened to squash it before it engulfed her. She opened her mouth to ask who in the world would want to live in this barren place, but just then, two other dwarves charged up and pointed their long swords at her. She took a step back in alarm, and Dandin strode in front of her. He raised up his hands in a peaceful gesture, then spoke to the men rapidly in a guttural language.
A long conversation followed those words, but poor Jen couldn’t understand a word of it. She listened with a baffled expression on her face as they continued to talk, wishing desperately that she could know what they were saying when they gestured to her. Eventually, the two black-bearded dwarves nodded. They lowered their swords, turned around, and started to walk towards the mountain. Jen dimly noticed that Leias was following, but for some reason her mind couldn’t seem to grasp the fact.
Dandin turned back to her. “We’d best follow,” he said with a shrug. Jen nodded, and followed him as he started to walk towards the mountain. |
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