Redemption League #1, As You Sow, Chapter 2

4

November 22, 2008

     Anakin stood outside the house of cremation waiting for Obi-Wan to show up. He had been hailed as a hero after his flight into the control ship. But now Qui-Gon was dead. Would he ever be trained as a Jedi?

     Anakin looked up when he saw Roxanne approaching him. Her face was hidden in the hood of a red cloak, but her hands were clenched at her sides. Anakin knew exactly how she felt.

     She stood next to Anakin, and he was surprised to realize that she wasn’t much taller than him. “Mind if I wait with you?”

     “Sure,” he answered.

     She stood there in silence for a minute. Then she asked, “What was the last thing he said to you?”

     Anakin bit his lip. “‘Stay in that cockpit.’ He wanted me to be safe.” He tried to make out her face in her hood. “What did he say to you?”

     Roxy sank to the ground and wrapped her thin arms around her knees. “He told me…to trust the will of the Force.”

     A silence stretched for a moment. Glancing at the red cloak he asked, “Are you a Jedi?”

     “I’ve been trained to be one, but I haven’t been chosen by a Master yet. If I’m not chosen by the time I turn thirteen, I’ll be sent to the Agricorps.”

     Anakin frowned. “Why would they do that?”

     Roxanne opened her mouth to answer then paused. “I’m not sure.” She smirked slightly. “Do you have a nickname?”

     Anakin felt quiet. “My mom called me Ani.”

     “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

     “I don’t know.”

     Another silence led on for a moment, but Anakin’s thoughts of home made him feel cold and tired. He decided to keep talking.

     “Do you?”

     “Do I what?”

     “Have a nickname.”

     She shook her head. “Not really.”

     Anakin thought for a moment. “Roxy.”

     She pulled back the hood. Her pale face had shimmery wet trails of tears on it, but her dirty blond eyebrows were raised. “What?”

     “That’s your nickname.”

     She mouthed the word to herself. “Roxy.” She smiled. “I like it! But you have to let me call you Ani.”

     “Sure.”

     “If you come to live at the Temple, would you like me to show you around?”

     Anakin had left all his friends on a sandy planet far away. He was more than grateful to find a new one. “Sounds great.”

     They smirked at each other. Obi-Wan walked up to them quietly, and scowled when he saw Roxanne’s cloak. “Where did you get that?”

     “It was in the Queen’s wardrobe. She said it was too small.”

     Obi-Wan shook his head. “Master Yoda will not approve.”

     “I don’t care.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Qui-Gon said he liked me in red.”

     Obi-Wan sighed. “Are you ready?” he murmured to Anakin.

     “Yes,” Ani and Roxy said simultaneously.

     They didn’t know it would be the first of many funerals they would be attending together.

 

The Jedi Temple, A Year Later

 

     “Roxy?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Aren’t you afraid of getting in trouble?”

     The twelve-year-old Jedi girl dropped her container of spray paint to look at her brother quizzically. Anakin was already taller than when they’d first met, nearly as tall as her. His Padawan braid was half undone and he had grease on his face from fixing his collection of droids that cluttered his room. She raised a dirty-blond eyebrow at him.

     “Ani, I’m not the one who sends pit droids into the Council chamber and sneaks off to the lower levels without permission.” She raised the paint can again and began to put a red design on the wall of her room. “Besides, this is my chamber. It’s not like I’m painting something obscene on the Council’s floor.”

     Anakin walked through her door, glancing at the comlinks laid out in a row that she collected. Some were in a state of half-repair while other had been painted bright red.

     “Why do you like red so much?” he asked, scrunching his face up. Whenever she was wounded, Roxanne would stare the blood for several minutes before applying a bandage. Eight days before she had taken some dyes from a shop in the lower levels and colored her tunic a shade of crimson that got her sent to Master Yoda for a lesson in humility.

     Roxy turned to him. “I don’t know. It’s bright, which is a change from all this brown.” She gestured to Anakin’s tunic and leggings, both a nondescript sand color.

     Anakin frowned again. “Obi-Wan said Jedi shouldn’t wear things that encourage vanity.”

     “What’s red got to do with vanity? I don’t like it because it’s showy. I like it because…” She frowned for a moment. “Maybe it’s the way I was made.”

     “I don’t care if Obi-Wan doesn’t like it. It’s just if you don’t like it for vanity, then the Council is wrong about it.”

     “Ani…” Roxy chewed her lip for a second, then stepped closer to him. “I could be expelled for saying this, but…the Council is good. And most of the time they know what they’re doing. But just because they mean well doesn’t mean they’re always right.”

     Anakin rolled his eyes. “But if you’re not always right then what’s the use of being good?”

     “You’re setting an example. If no one tried to do the right thing then the galaxy would cease to exist!”

     “But if you make a mistake even if you think you’re doing good then how do you know whether you are or not?”

     Roxy tilted her head. “Come again?”

     “If you think you’re doing good, how do you know whether you are or not?”

     A silence settled over the room. Anakin glanced everywhere, looking uncomfortable. Roxanne crossed her arms, her paint can on the floor, forgotten.

     “Good question. I suppose you’d know by the results of what you do.”

     “What?”

     “Well, if you’re doing good, then people will work together and be happy. If you’re doing evil then wars will start and fear will spread and with fear will come hate and darkness.”

     “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering,” Anakin muttered. “How can one person start a war?”

     “Not all wars are fought with blasters. Some are fought in our souls.”

     Anakin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

     Roxanne hugged him tightly. “Ani, I’m not trying to sound older. That’s just the universe. At least from my perspective.”

     Anakin nodded, embracing her back before drawing away. “Thanks.”

     She smiled. “Any time.”

     Anakin started to walk out, then called over his shoulder, “By the way, Obi-Wan says you’re supposed to come with us to the Senate in an hour.”

     Roxy stuck her tongue out at his back. She hated politics. Then she put the paint under her sleeping mat and ducked into the refresher. She splashed some cold water on her face and jumped. It felt freezing! She frowned at the sink. The red paint was washing off her hands, sending little scarlet rivers down the drain. She looked at her reflection in the viewing glass and blinked. Her face was flushed and getting redder as she watched. The cold water numbed her hands, but she didn’t even think of turning it off. Suddenly it was very hard to breathe. The light overhead blurred until all she could see was a haze of white.

     She felt no pain as she toppled over onto the duracreet floor.

     Spasms shook her muscles, but she moaned in pleasure. Electric tingles ran up and down her body. She could hear her heartbeat shaking her chest. A flood of pleasant heat seemed to spread with every thump of her heart. Then all it once it stopped.

     Roxy looked around, finding herself on the cold flooring covered in sweat. Her vision suddenly cleared. She blinked again. Too clear.

     She could see the grime in the corners of the floor, each and every grain in the duracreet, every ray of light from the fixture overhead. She held up her own hand and not only was every line of her skin as obvious as a planet, every vein beneath throbbed a rich blue. The skin of her wrist jumped slightly and she realized she was looking at her pulse. She started to stand up, trying to make her legs obey her, when another spasm overtook her. But this one was absolute agony.

     She started to scream but bit her lip instead, and she felt hot blood running down her chin. Her stomach cramped until she couldn’t breath, and her lungs refused to work. Her leg twitched involuntarily and she dry-heaved, wishing it would stop.

     It didn’t stop all at once, but slowed down gradually until the last mild cramp loosened Roxy’s stomach so she could breathe again. She glanced at her legs and her face heated up. Her leggings were soiled. Yet even though she felt disgusted, she couldn’t bring herself to move. She lay still for what might have been a minute or an hour. The ceiling overhead was white duracreet and she caught herself starting to count each particle in it.

     ‘Stop it,’ she told herself. ‘Get a grip, get cleaned up, and find out what happened.’

     She stood up, but slowly. It was as if she were moving for the very first time, each muscle stretching pleasantly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stared in disbelief.

     Her skin was nearly white and as smooth as polished durasteel, and her sea-green eyes glittered in richer shades of blue and green than she had known existed.  But what really caught her attention was her mouth. Her incisor teeth were elongated and when she put a finger to one it came away pricked.

     Roxanne stared at her finger, for the tiny cut vanished almost instantly.

     Jedi healed faster than normal beings, but this was ridiculous.

     A sudden thunder rattled the room. Roxy clamped both hands over her ears, trying to block the sound, but suddenly she realized it was only someone knocking on her door.

     “Roxanne!” Obi-Wan called. “Roxanne, are you ready to go?”

     “Coming Master!” she called, then plugged her ears again. Her voice boomed in her eardrums, but she realized that Obi-Wan must not hear how loud it all was. She raced back to her room and grabbed a fresh pair of leggings. “I’ll be out in a moment Master—I lost track of time!”

     There was a pause and Roxy thought she might have gotten away with it. She was wrong.

     “Roxy, let me in,” Obi-Wan said, softer now. “Are you all right?”

     “I’m fine, Master, I just had a bit of an accident…”

     But Obi-Wan was already in her room. ‘Dangit,’ she thought, ‘I forgot to lock the door!’

     Obi-Wan stared at her, halfway out of her tunic and about to take off her soiled leggings, her dirty-blond hair shining strangely even though she hadn’t groomed it that day. Roxy blushed and held her fresh leggings over her chest, even though she was flat as a board.

     “What happened to you?” Obi-Wan whispered, crossing the room.

     “I don’t know! I was in the refresher and I started having these feelings and it felt so good but then it hurt, and you look so strange and…and…Obi-Wan, what’s happening to me?” The last part came out in a bare whisper. The Jedi girl felt her eyes fill with tears. Obi-Wan gasped.

     “What now?” she cried.

     “Your eyes,” he whispered. “Your eyes are bleeding.”

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Romance, Science Fiction.

Tags:

Tides Ebbing, Chapter 2

2

November 22, 2008

NOTE: Nothing really happens in this chapter, so I apologize. The action will start soon enough, I promise. :)

     Father decided we would spend the night in that town to give the men some rest before plaguing the coasts of Cuba. The crew dispersed into the town for a night of debauchery while I went alone to a local tavern and sat alone at a corner table trying not to be noticed. The sickening smell of alcohol and sweat combined with the heat of the Jamaican night made the place miserable. And when people are miserable, they get irritable.

     I did my best to ignore the other pirates and sailors and drunks shouting at each other for no other reason than they were all in the same building until a one-eyed ruffian flung a dagger into the table inches from my hand.

     When I said people get irritable in miserable heat, I was including myself, and it didn’t help that the knife had cut into my feverish thoughts of Tamecia.

     I pulled the knife out of the table and stood. The idiot who had flung it looked at me with his one eye and laughed.

     “’Twas a mistake sir, it was,” he giggled.

     The pistol in my belt wasn’t loaded, but the man didn’t know that. I drew it and held it out at arm’s length. “A mistake that you didn’t kill me, you mean.”

     The man froze at the sight of the gun. “All in good sport, sir!” he stammered, his one eye darting towards the open door.

     “Get out,” I muttered, lowering the gun and sulking back to my table. The pendant was cool against the skin of my chest. A humid breeze whispered through the open door of the tavern, barely strong enough to rustle my hair into my eyes. There was a scuffle near the door as the one-eyed man pushed his way out of the tavern.

     I put my pistol in my sash and stared into space. Somehow I had to see her again.

    “Mongrel!”

     I looked up at the sound of my hated nom de guerre to see Bloody Jacque, my father’s first mate, standing in the doorway with a pistol in one hand and the one-eyed man’s throat in the other. His narrow mouth was in a perpetual sneer thanks to the scar at the corner of his upper lip.

     “The captain wants you,” he shouted, even though the sight of the strangling man in his grip had silenced the entire room.

     “Why?” I asked, standing up.

     Jacque narrowed his bloodshot eyes and roughly flung the one-eyed deckhand out into the street. “Just get on the ship.”

     I clutched the pendant. What had I done this time?

     The Jamaican night was somewhat cooler on the beach near the docks than in the tavern. A sea breeze whispered over the white sand. The turquoise waters were nearly the same shade as the sky. A yellow crescent moon hung on the horizon, casting shadows on the waves. My father’s ship, the Thief’s Revenge, lay anchored just offshore, a great black heap of wood and rope held together by the barnacles on her hull and the dirt on her decks. If we had brought in any booty Captain Delaney would not have tolerated such disrepair, but when there was gold to be had he let all else go.

     I climbed into a dinghy that had a large leak in the stern and rowed to the ship. The ropes had all been taken up for the night, but when the guard saw me he let down a ladder. I tested the first rotten rung and fingered the hemp it was tied to, but none of it gave out beneath me. Once I was up the guard took the ladder and nodded towards the captain’s quarters at the aft of the ship. With a deep breath I opened the door to my father’s quarters.

     “Shut the door,” said the captain with a grumble.

     “Yes, father.” I did so, and the room plunged into darkness.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Historical Fiction, Romance.

Tags:

Chapter 19: A Plan…(The Story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

3

November 20, 2008

by raven14

I looked around me. Sven was riding on my right, and a big, burly men was on my left. How hard could this be?

Hard.

                                                                                   ~

Two boys, a man, and a woman each sit on a galloping horse. They rush toward a city…they don’t have much time.

                                                                                   ~

My plan was ready. Now I just had to carry it out…

We stopped suddenly, and the burly man told me to get off his horse. He walked over to me to enfore this command.

“Get off the horse now,” he said, reaching up to grab me. I knew exactly what was going on. They were afraid I might still try to run, and they were going to tie me up. I had to put my plan in action!

Suddenly I kicked my horse in the flanks. It set off at a wild gallop. My hair streamed out behind me, and I hung on for dear life. I could hear the men shouting and giving chase. I had to be faster than them…

I knew what else I had to do. I summoned heat out of the air…and formed a large fire orb in my hands. I threw it over my shoulder, glancing back briefly to see where to aim. Then I sat forward and hunched down…Here it comes!  I thought… It hit the ground and exploded. The men screamed- but the wall of fire didn’t stop them for long. They just made their horses leap over it, and were soon on my heels again.

What was I to do now? Get into the crowds, and then jump off my horse? People will help me, surely! They wouldn’t watch a girl be chased and killed or hurt by twenty men. They wouldn’t!  But the truth was, they probably would…probably…

I didn’t know for sure. I had to chance it. I raced into the town. More screams filled the air as people lunged out my way. This was it. I had to jump now!

I sprang from my horse- and just before I hit the ground, a sharp, fiery pain spread through my shoulder. They had shot me with an arrow. I could feel it embed itself in my flesh.

I hit the ground hard, and gasped with the pain of my back, shoulder, and fall combined. People just ran around crazily, not doing anything sensible. But then, what would I have done if a girl came racing into town on a horse like a madwoman and then jumped off of the horse? I wouldn’t have any idea what was going on.

“Help!” I screamed, standing up. “Those men are trying to hurt me!”

The people turned to look at my attackers on their horses, galloping toward me. But they decided they shouldn’t believe me when my attackers, now on foot, chasing me, shouted, “Stop her! She’s a runaway!”

I turned and fled down the street, every part of me screaming in pain. My breath became ragged…but I had to keep going! But where would I go? How far could I make it until the pain killed me, or I was caught again?

“Aaleyah!” I heard someone shout above the madness. I looked frantically around, and saw a person standing up ahead of me. How on earth did they know my name? That didn’t matter- what did matter was that I would have to dodge them somehow. They were probably waiting to ambush me or distract me…

Then the person ran toward me with his sword drawn. I screamed again and tried to dodge him, but suddenly others were following him- another boy, and a man.

I suddenly realized- it was Adan, Shastara, and Japheth! They had come to rescue me! I nearly fainted with relief…then realized something else. How could three men hold off an entire mob?

Adan and Shastara were alive?! I looked at the two of them more closely- it was indeed them! They hadn’t been killed after all! Was it possible?

The fact that there was a huge mob in front of them didn’t bother them; they just rushed at the crowd swinging their swords. The peasants instantly stood aside- no one had said there swords and actual fighting involved in this chase. They were done now. They didn’t want their limbs sliced off.

However, the barbarians who had been holding me captive for the last two days didn’t hesitate to meet them, also brandishing their swords. They jumped off their horses, and the real fight began.

Should I keep running, or stop and catch my breath? I feared if I stopped too long, I wouldn’t be able to move again.

I never got to decide, because suddenly I was being dragged backward. Someone had an iron grip on my arms, and try as I might I couldn’t get away.

“Adan! Shastara!” I screamed. But then my new captor kicked me, jolting my whole body and causing me such pain that I blacked out.

                                                                                        ~

When I awoke, I was lying down on a small bunk. The room I was in was also small, and the walls were wooden, as was the bench and the chest inside. The door to the room was closed…and when I tried to get up, I found I was tied to the bunk.

A suddenly lilting and lurching motion tilted the room. I nearly vomited. The room became stiller than it had been before, but a gentle rocking motion continued. I heard shouting from outside the door, something about sails and a deck…

Sails. A deck.

I was on a ship- probably the ship the barbarians had been trying to get me on. They had succeeded. There was no hope for me now.

All was lost.

I was really, and truly a goner.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Black Bird, Blue Sky – Chapter One

4

November 18, 2008

“These are your bones

These are your children’s

Your hopes are hopeless

There is no home for the homeless”

Skeletons of cornstalks, fields of them, stood on either side of the refugees. The words were scratched into the face of a rock, a dark prophecy. A ragged shred of a farmer’s straw hat, drifting slowly across the barren ground, reminded everyone how futile scarecrows were against the Crows. How futile was everything.

Myrl stiffened.

“Someone’s coming!” She shouted.

Discontented mumbling soured the conversation, curdling it with spite and distrust. She shouldn’t have spoken. She had been dense to think they would have listened. Her head dropped to the beaten trail, loose dust coloring her face brown and stinging her eyes. They would never trust her, never listen.

Someone was coming, of that she was sure. She had sensed the rippling presence of a crowd for a long time, and now she was sure. They were moving faster than this rabble of worn refugees. Were they refugees also or were they enemies? The possibilities tumbled in her mind, half of them ending in massacre and all of them inevitable.

Suddenly she froze. With them was a Crow, she felt it. Her mind wheeled, forgetting to weigh the possibilities against probabilities and overwhelming with only one chance – death. Crows, the creatures that had picked her hopes clean of flesh and left only bones. Now her own body would be left as her past, the spoils of a Crow’s white claws, the lust of a Crow’s gray eyes.

“Heinanei!” They were here now, and a rich voice called out to them with a common greeting. “We are refugees, victims of Crows, who search for shelter.”

“Witch, she knew they were coming. Sorcery! Witch!” A voice hissed barely behind her ear.

Distrustful, snide mutters closed around her like a noose.

The owner of the rich voice appeared behind them on the path. His coal black body was muscular and beads of sweat marked him with exertion. The people around her became tensely quiet, barely whispering, as if they wanted to disappear from stranger eyes and ears.

“Who are you?” Her tribe’s ruler stepped forward, his chin jutting up nobly.

“Raj Jarejo of the Ogaji.” Raj, the word for a man ruler, even though everyone knew the real Raj and Raja lived in castles. But they were far away from here, too far to hold true power or respect in tribes of the wastelands of Cormorant.

“And I am Raj Jorashi of the Shier.” Raj Jorashi’s eyes glittered with old hates and an awoken lust for revenge. He was slender and light-cinnamon colored, a slight figure next to the unison of dark muscle and flesh beside him.

“We are equals now, Raj Jorashi,” the man said in his deep voice. “I am no better than you and you are no better than me.”

Myrl’s concentration evaporated. She felt the Crow’s eyes watching them, training itself on victory. Looking for her. The hairs on her neck prickled as she imagined It diving for her neck and saw the Shier, her home tribe, let her fall as they fled. She saw herself dead.

Her eyes carefully probed the cornfield, gently, trying not to startle the murderer into premature flight. Then, under a flash of black, were pale gray eyes. Her heart shot a jolt of panic through her body, poisoning her blood, even though she had expected it. Death has pale gray eyes.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to listen to conversation.

“You think you can walk in and take over our tribe, force us to merge with – with Ogaji?” The muscles in Raj Jorashi’s neck were tight under his skin.

“I only wish for our tribes to travel together in peace,” the man said evenly. He was handling the negotiations well. Already he was winning, for he was the only one keeping his head and heart in balance. Myrl decided that this observation was evidence enough that she was calming. She looked back at the Crow — there were those piercing gray eyes, almost blue. Suddenly her eyes took in the whole picture. A face!

It wasn’t a Crow. It was a boy, a boy with pale gray eyes and ruffled black hair. A boy who felt like a Crow. Suddenly their eyes met, both afraid of the other, both relieved and shaken. For a moment, she felt she could see inside him — the bitterness that they both shared. Then she dropped her face back to the dust, afraid that he, too, could touch her soul.

“Our tribes will travel alongside each other,” Raj Jorashi said, compromise in his voice. “I will speak to my people.”

“Good,” said the dark man, turning his back to Raj Jorashi and walking back to his people, a symbol of trust. Never turn your back to your enemy.

Myrl looked back into the dead stalks, and the boy was still watching her with an intense expression. This time she held his stare, as dark bodies began approaching from the trail behind them and her own people moved away. She didn’t move, because who was she to judge a people because they were different when she was not accepted in her own tribe because of who she was?

And she didn’t want to lose the boy. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was creeping out of the corn, joining the dark people around her. He looked so pale next to them, his skin as white as a Crow’s claws, as her skin.

All of a sudden he was next to her.

“You look like a Crow,” he said abruptly, gauging her reaction with the tiniest expressions in his eyes.

“So do you.” She held her face erect and expressionless, bowing as it was custom for women and girls to do.

“Witch children,” a dark woman said, sneering at them. The injustice towards them was from both tribes. Myrl’s resolve melted and her eyes rejoined the ground.

She heard the boy’s voice calling.

“Ami! Ami, come!”

She heard small, light footsteps trotting over the dirt and looked up. A little boy was in Rave’s arms, a little boy with the coal black skin and eyes of the Ogaji. Suddenly the boy turned and looked deep into Myrl’s face. His expression held something that frightened her in a child so young, but she couldn’t define quite what it was. He must be only five.

“Who is she?” The little boy asked. His voice was sweet but weak.

“A girl I met,” The older boy, the crow-boy said.

“She looks like you, Rave. I’m hot.”

“Everyone’s hot in this forsaken place,” he said harshly, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. Automatically Myrl did the same. Her hand came back wet.

He put the little boy down, and the boy ran up and grabbed Myrl’s hand. She flinched – she had not been touched with a friendly hand for a long time, not since her mother died. The boy let go but stayed near her.

“I’m Ami, what’s your name? You are pretty, and you look like my brother. Do they call you a Witchchild, too? You aren’t really a witch, that’s just what people say to try and make you jealous. I think you’re smart.”

“I – Myrl. Myrl Shier.” Otherwise she was speechless.

“I’m just Ami, because Rave says that you should only take the name of your real tribe, and he doesn’t think he’s really Ogaji. We have the same mama, so I’m not Ogaji either. Are you really Shier? You look white, like my brother, and your eyes are different. I think you have special eyes. I wish I had special eyes.”

Myrl stood there, motionless, while her mind weighed thoughts. It could be that he was trained to give friendliness, and then his brother would strike. Perhaps he was a spy, trained to tunnel information from an unsuspecting victim.

She glanced back into his trusting eyes as he chattered along. Those were the possibilities. A probability was that he was just a child, who decided she was safe. But how did he know? She could be a liar, a thief, a witch, just as everyone believed who had seen her face. She tried to keep distrust out of her expression, but she saw in the older boy’s eyes that he suspected her true thoughts.

“Mama had to go away, but she left me here with Rave. Are you hungry?”

There. The food would be poisoned, it was easy enough to see the strategy now. Why would someone want to poison you? She asked herself. It didn’t make sense, she realized. She wasn’t important enough to want to target. And she was starving.

“Rave will give you some food, won’t you Rave?” Ami looked up trustingly into his brothers face. A pang struck her heart. If only someone could look at her that way. But she wasn’t loveable, she was a liar, a witch. “Right, Rave?” The strong reluctance in the older boy’s face made her instantly change her plan.

“No, Ami, I’m not hungry.” She walked away, her composure taut and strong, her eyes carrying the bitter indifference that she had learned to mold into her face when she was rejected. She looked like this most of the time, and had squeezed her soul into the mold, although it still slipped out and became emotional. For now, she could almost believe that she didn’t care what people thought about her.

“Myrl!” A hand caught her arm. She twisted away from it and turned towards her enemy. The older boy.

“What?” Every muscle she owned, every bone, was ready.

“C eat with us. I was rude.”

She stepped back tremblingly as her body abruptly relaxed.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically.

“You didn’t scare me.” Her chin jutted up in the air pridefully.

“Alright,” he allowed. “Do you want to eat?”

“Alright,” she gave in before her mind took over the questioning. “I’ll come with you.”

He led her back to the place they had stood before, and revealed Ami waiting patiently. He glowed when he saw them.

“You came! I was afraid you wouldn’t, I thought you didn’t like me,” he said, giddy with childish joy.

“I like you,” Myrl said shyly.

“I like you, too!” Ami dimpled.

Those words fed her like no food ever would.

Pronounciation

in order of appearance

Myrl – Mer-ul

Heinanei – Hey-nah-nay

Raj – Rah

Jarejo – Hare-ho (the j makes a h sound, as in spanish)

Ogaji – Oh-gah-hi

Jorashi – Hore-ah-shee

Shier – Sheer

Cormorant – Core-more-aunt

Ami – Ay-mee (like Amy)

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Tides Ebbing, Chapter 1

6

November 11, 2008

Chapter One

 

     My father was always bad-tempered. As I grew I learned to read his moods and stay out of his way. Eventually I got strong enough to fend for myself serving as a deckhand on his ship, boarding other vessels and fighting my way out of jails when my father deemed that booty held more worth than my life.

     You may think that as the captain’s son I would have been treated gently and had as easy a life as could be had at sea. But in fact the opposite was true. My father despised the child he had unintentionally sired in a night of drunken revelry, and he never attempted to hide the fact. So when the meaner tasks of sea life needed doing, it was I who scrubbed the deck, emptied the privy buckets and picked the maggots from what little stale bread was left. And when water and food began to run low, it was my ration which was cut first.

     In part his anger was simply part of the captain’s role. We often sailed with inexperienced men who would have mutinied many a time if the threat of flogging had not hung over their heads. But his hatred began and ended with me, the burdensome baseborn mongrel he was forced to live with. How I came to be on his ship when he detested me so, he never said. There were any number of things my unknown mother might have done with me. Why my father had taken me aboard rather than leave me land bound is a mystery I never expect to know the answer to.

     But such questions left my mind the day I first laid eyes on Tamecia.

     We had made port off the coast of Jamaica to take on water and fabric for the sails. I lingered near the market, away from the other sailors, wandering aimlessly through the crowded street. The dark-skinned natives walked about in tattered clothing wound around their heads and bodies so they looked like they were wearing homespun sheets. The language hurt my ears, going up and down in pitch until I was certain there were no more notes to hit. I stepped past a woman with black spots on her face trying to sell me a charm that would ward off the anger of the sea god when I looked up to see a flash of gold amongst all the brown.

     She looked British, with skin bronzed by the sun. The olive coloring accented her hair, which was bright gold and wavy like the ocean at sunset. She was dressed in what appeared to be handkerchiefs of various sizes and colors haphazardly stitched together. The smudges of dirt on her clothes spoke of months without washing and her bare feet were black with soil. She turned away from the woman showing her a handkerchief obviously of English make so that I could see her face in profile. Her eyes were a dark brown and her eyelids were painted with kohl. Her wide cheekbones were reddened by the sun. Her mouth was small but her lips were full and pink. In her hands she held a necklace—a gold bead shot through with green on a thin cord of tightly wound thread. Her eyes fell on me, and her eyebrows bent together as though she remembered my face but couldn’t quite recall my name. I met her gaze and nodded slowly, my black unkempt hair falling in my eyes. Her expression cleared and she nodded back, winding the cord of the necklace around her hand and stepping in my direction. Self- consciously I brushed some dirt from my ragged shirt and tightened the strings at the throat, realizing I hadn’t washed in over two months since the last time we’d made port.

     Up close I could see the different patterns of her makeshift gown. There were red paisley prints from America, tiny bits of white lace used by English ladies, tattered scraps of sail, black and gold weaves from India, embroidered patches from a woman’s needlework, and even a piece that looked like the leather cloth used by some pirates to clean their pistols.

     “You are not from around here,” the girl said. Her voice had the local accent, a rhythm like the tide coming in and out, but the timber was strange, lighter than the throaty tones of the dark-skinned populace weaving around us.

     “No,” I replied. No further words presented themselves as necessary.

     Her brown-eyed stare was at once reassuring and unnerving. I shifted my booted feet about in the dirt, trying not to stare back and yet unable to look away. I tried to guess at her age, but every time I thought her sixteen her forehead, already lined with worry, made me think her at least twenty. Then I would notice how small those dirty feet were and I started the circle all over again.

     She unwound the necklace from her hand, holding it up to the light. A gold aura engulfed it.

     “It’s beautiful,” I said. And well I should know. As a pirate’s son I was well acquainted with jewels.

     She nodded, a lock of golden hair falling across her eye. Then she stepped close to me, until I could smell the salty, earthy scent of her, and tied the pendant around my neck.

     “It will protect you. Never take it off.”

     I looked at her in surprise, fingering the charm that must cost a fortune to such as her.

     She smiled, and her teeth were the color of old pearls. “Don’t worry. I can afford it.”

     “What’s your name?” I asked, sensing from her tone that she was about to take her leave.

     There was a moment as she turned her back to me when I thought she was not going to answer. Then her voice drifted over her shoulder.

     “You may call me Tamecia.”

     And with that she vanished into the throng, leaving me fingering the pendant and breathing deeply to catch the last of the salted-earth smell lingering in the air.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Historical Fiction, Romance.

Tags:

Chapter 18: An Uninvited Friend (The Story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

1

November 10, 2008

by raven14

“Adan! What happened?” Mara cries as she and Japheth rush to their son.

“Aaleyah…we were attacked…she’s been captured!” Adan says through gasps of breath.

“Who is this?” Japheth asks, making the stranger boy lean on him so Adan can catch his breath.

“This is Shastara, an old friend of Aaleyah’s. But Pa, we have to go after her! They were barbarians…from the land of Garah! They must be taking her to the king…he’ll kill her, Pa!” Adan says, trying to go to the barn to get a horse.

“Calm down, son!” Japheth says, grabbing his son by the arm. “You’re in no condition to travel. Now sit down and let your ma look you over.”

“There’s no time for this!” Adah yells. But he is made to sit down anyway.

Time is wasting…

                                                                                       ~

“Just a few minutes now, dearie, then we’ll reach the docks!” said one of the barbarians. I spat at him, and my big wad of spit hit him square in the face.

He growled and slapped me. I bit him hard, leaving him howling with pain, and then took off running. In less than three seconds, he had grabbed me around the ankles and brought me down hard on the ground. I was completely winded. It reminded me of when Abbas had captured me…except these men were worse. Much worse.

He then proceeded to kick my back, right where I had been stabbed only two days ago. I screamed and tried to stay conscious.

“Sven! What are you doing?” one of his comrades said, coming over and grabbing him by the collar. He was about my age, and seemed to have a soft spot for me. He easily towered over my short, tubby attacker.

“I was- she just-” he stammered. He got no farther than that.

“Touch her again Sven, and I’ll tell Korin. And you know he won’t deal kindly with you,” my rescuer said menacingly. He then shoved Sven away from me. Sven took off running like a dog with its tail between its legs.

My rescuer, whose name was Thor(pronounced Tore), came quickly over. He gently helped me sit up against a tree. I could feel something warm and sticky running down my back- blood. That great pig had made the scab on my back break open when he kicked me.

Thor helped me to clean off my wound. He talked kindly and softly to me the whole time. He was one of the only ones in the group who knew the Kirian language- my language. I appreciated it, but if he was hoping I would be his best friend, it wasn’t possible. He was, after all, part of the group that had attacked me, Adan, and Shastara. And killed them. No. This boy, kind as he was, was not my friend.

I had to keep reminding myself of this. He was so kind and likable…His face almost reminded me of Adan’s. He was handsome; I wouldn’t deny it. But lurking behind his kindness, there was something else- pride and too much confidence in himself.

“There. That should make you feel a bit better. I’ll make sure that rodent doesn’t bother you anymore,” Thor said as he finished helping me.

“When we get on the ship, how long will it actually take to get to…where are we going exactly?” I asked.

“We’re going to where the king lives-Garah. By ship, it will take about four months,” Thor said.

I tried not to choke. Four months ? Was I so important that we had to travel for four months at sea to see some king? Why was I so important? Why were they going to all this trouble for a mere girl they had captured?

Then I stopped. A small smile stole over my lips. I had fire on my side. They didn’t. It had been awhile since I had used it, and it had left me weak, but if I could escape these men, I would.

“Ah. Thank you so much Thor,” I said, smiling brightly at him. “Why am I so important to you all though?”

“Thor! Gehv sorn sala!” a voice called. It seemed that one of the barbarians was ordering Thor to come somewhere immediately.

“I have to go,” Thor said to me. He retied my ankles and wrists, and sympathetic and guilty expression on his face, as if he really didn’t want to do what he was doing. But he knew he had to tie me back up, and after he had done so, he left. I was alone again.

                                                                                     ~

“Do you know that without the proper care, you could lose your arm?” Japtheth says to the stranger in his house.

The boy just looks at him and says, “I can take care of that.” He touches his injured arm- his left arm- and a green light covers the whole thing. In but a few moments, his arm seems as good as new. The slash left by the sword has faded to a white scar.

“You’re a healer!” Mara exclaims, staring at him.

“Yes,” the boy replies. “Adan, I can fix that leg of yours if you’ll let me.”

Japheth and Mara watch as the stranger heals their boy’s hurt leg, just as he healed his own arm. There haven’t been real healers in the land for centuries!

“See Pa? Now I’m not even really hurt anymore! We have to go after Aaleyah! They have a two days’ head start. We have to stop them before they get to the ocean. When they do, it’ll be too late to help her at all. Please!” Adan pleads, standing up.

“We’ll go son, don’t worry. Mara, you’ll have to come along. I’ll need your help should we do battle,” Japheth says. His wife nods, her eyes understanding. The little group prepares to leave…

                                                                                    ~

A breeze blew through the tree tops, causing the trees to sway gently. I shivered; I had lost my cloak in the struggle. It seemed not two seconds had gone by then Thor was placing his cloak on my shoulders. When I didn’t shrug it off, he rode off atop his big horse with a satisfied expression on his face. I was cold; I might as well use it. Although I did feel a bit bad…

What are you thinking Aaleyah? These are you captors, for goodness sake! You need to escape them, not become emotionally bonded to them!  They owe you a cloak- after all, they did capture you! Think! my mind screamed at me. I wasn’t sure why I was acting like I was.

As I sat on top of the horse I had been given(by Thor) as we went along in our slow procession, I thought back to all I had lost. Pictures of my loved ones’ faces went through my mind…my parents, Aaliyah, Mara, Japheth, Adan, Shastara…I missed them all so much!

I had to get away before we got to the ocean. I had to. There would be no possibility of escape if I didn’t.

A plan started to form itself in my mind. I could do this. I had to do this…

 

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Chapter 17: Shadow of Doom(The Story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

4

November 8, 2008

by raven14

I  couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it. I refused  to believe it.

I wasn’t a captive again. I wasn’t going to be hurt or made a slave. It wasn’t real; I was simply having a nightmare.

But when I woke up in the morning, with my back to a tree, and my whole body aching and throbbing, especially my back, I knew only too well that I wasn’t dreaming. This was real.

My shadow of doom had caught up to me. It always did, it seemed, in one way or another.

“Why hello, filth! Good morning,” my captor said to me. I glared up at him. I wished I could kick or slap him…

He and his men were also barbarians, just as Abbas and all my other old captors had been. But these men…these were different. Their accent and dress was not recognizable, as was the case with their language. Where had they come from? And what king were they referring to? Why and how  could I be important to some king? How did he even know I existed? What was going on? Why was it always me that these things happened to?

It was all my fault that Adan and Shastara had died. They couldn’t possibly have survived an attack like that. If I did manage to escape these men, I could never go back and face Adan’s parents. They would hate me for being the cause of  and turn me away. No; now I was really alone.

I wished so much that I could die. I didn’t want to live anymore…live with this great guilt and sorrow on my shoulders, bearing down on me so heavily. It was just too much.

How could this be? Some of my closest friends had died yesterday, and I could do absolutely nothing. I was completely and totally helpless.

Why? Why? Why? It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be true…

But it was.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Chapter 16: Catching Up(The Story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

2

November 7, 2008

Author’s note: Hey ya’ll! I’m glad to see some of you have gotten your little old musies back :D  Anyway, I’m not “feelin’ it” with this chapter. It’s… missing something, or it’s boring or dumb. Tell me what you think. Sorry I’m so pesimistic :D

-raven14

by raven14

 

“Give me some room! Get back!” I awoke to hear someone shouting. Then I realized Adan was carrying me in his arms, and there was a big crowd pressing around us.

Wait. I was…alive? I had been stabbed in the back! How could I possibly be alive-

“She’s waking up,” I heard another voice say. That voice was so familiar…yet it wasn’t Adan’s  or anyone else I had recently met. It was a voice I had heard a long time ago…

I opened my eyes…only to find myself staring into the face of Shastara. Shastara?? But he had left a long time ago…

“Hi Aaleyah,” he said, a worried smile on his face.

“You know her?” Adan asked.

“We…met a long…time ago,” I managed to get out. My back felt quite a bit better, although it still throbbed.

“Ssh, don’t talk. I’m going to get you home,” Adan said, gently lifting me onto a horse. He swung up behind me and I leaned back against him. Shastara seemed to decide to follow, as he got on his own horse and came to ride alongside us.

“But Adan, what happened?” I asked. My mind felt so foggy.

“You were stabbed…you nearly died,” he replied, his voice cracking.

“Then how am I still…here?” I asked.

“This boy saved you. I don’t know who he is. Aaleyah…Abbas got away. I’m sorry,” Adan said, casting a rather wary glance at Shastara. He may have saved me, but I could tell Adan wasn’t entirely comfortable about him yet.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Shastara,” Shastara said politely.

“Ah,” Adan replied.

“And you are?” Shastara asked. Tit for tat.

“Adan,” Adan responded brisquely in one word.

“How do you two know each other?” Shastara asked. I wished I could be a part of the conversation, but my throat was so dry.

Clearing my throat, I said, “The two wouldn’t happen to have any water would you?”

Both boys quickly looked around in their packs, and both offered me a canteen at the same time. I took Adan’s; it was closer.

After I had filled myself to bursting with water, I felt more ready to speak.

“Adan, this is Shastara, an old friend. I and my sister were traveling with him and others to Il’Karris when…” My voice broke off.

“So how do you two know each other?” Shastara said, motioning to the two of us.

“As soon as you and the others left, Abbas Haddad found me. I tried to fight back, but my…powers made me very weak and sick. They left me to die in the woods. After many days, I was attacked by a wolf. Then Adan found me and took me to his house, and he and his family nursed me back to health,” I replied before Adan could.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left you! This is all my fault!” Shastara said, remorse and guilt all over his face.

“No Shastara-” I began. A wave of pain washed over me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. “It-it wasn’t your fault.”

“She’s really pale. We need to get her somewhere where she can rest,” Shastara said to Adan, seemingly ignoring my comment. Adan agreed, and they both spurred the horses into a gallop.

Suddenly I heard a whooshing sound. Something was flying through the air- arrows…

“Get down!” I screamed, pulling Adan off of the horse with me. We fell to the ground and rolled.

Now a barrage of arrows flew through the air. I heard a shout and saw one buried in Shastara’s arm. He fell from his horse.

Then men- many men- came rushing out of the trees, yelling and screaming. Adan jumped to his feet and drew his sword; Shastara did the same. I just lay there, in too much pain to think.

I didn’t see what happened; I just heard… and then I felt a iron grip on my arms. Something- someone was pulling me backward…

“Adan!” I screamed. I saw him turn and start to come to my aid, but then three men surrounded him and he was stuck parrying their blows and defending himself. I couldn’t see Shastara now either.

I kicked and bit the hand over my mouth, but to no avail. My wrists were tied behind me, and I was blindfolded and gagged. I was then thrown over a horse, my stomach resting on its back. Blood rushed to my head…then something hit it and I felt and knew no more.

                                                                                ~

“Japheth, they really should be back by now,” Mara calls to her husband from the kitchen. Worry fills her heart…

“Calm down Mara; I’m sure they just got caught up talking to some friends or-” Japheth breaks off abruptly as he looks out the doorway and sees something.

Adan walks up to the house, supporting a boy with his arm. Blood and dirt cover both of them…and Aaleyah is nowhere to be seen.

                                                                                   ~

When I awoke- it seemed like I was doing these days was passing out and coming back to consciousness again- I felt something against my back…probably a tree. I was sitting up, but I didn’t know where I was because I was still blindfolded. At least the filthy gag had been removed.

My throat hurt again. I yelled anyway. “Hello? Is anybody there? I demand you untie me right now!”

I heard someone’s voice chuckle and say, “You’re awake! We won’t untie you right now. We will take you to the king though, and what he’ll do to you no one can know. But it won’t be pretty.”

My back began to throb at that very moment. I gasped aloud as the pain all came back to where only numbness had been before.

“Ah, so you are hurting. Oh well. That’s just too bad. You’ll not be getting nice treatment from us,” said the voice with an evil sense of humor.

“Where are you taking me?” I said, trying to slip my thin wrists out of the ropes that bound me.

“I said already,” said the voice. After that, no matter how much I screamed and raved, no one answered me.

I was left alone now to ponder over my fate. I imagined all sorts of gruesome things that could be about to happen to me. I was sure that Shastara and Adan were dead now because of me. Everything seemed to happen because of me.

Why did I have to exist at all?

 

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Tags: , , ,

Chapter 11: A Want For Revenge

1

October 22, 2008

Author’s note: Hey ya’ll. Here’s some more Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn.

Happy reading!

GIVE ME YOUR CRITIQUES PUUUUUUUULEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

-r14

by raven14

Time went on. The need for revenge pressed heavily on me. This fact scared me, but I felt only pure loathing and disgust in my heart when I thought of Abbas Haddad walking around, free. He had killed my sister, and he was going to pay. If I ever saw him again, I wouldn’t hesitate….

I had been sweeping before I became lost in my thoughts, and I resumed it with vigor.

Suddenly I heard footsteps. Adan rushed in, blood and dirt on his face.

“Adan! What happened?” I gasped, dropping the broom and running to him.

“Raiders…my parents…in the barn…” he could hardly talk; he was so out of breath. “They took…my parents…”

“How did you escape?” I asked.

“I don’t know…but they took- they took my parents! We have to do something!”

“Calm down Adan. We’re going after them,” I said. It seemed strange that Adan’s parents could be taken. Their powers were so…powerful. But that didn’t matter now. We had to save them.

“Where does your father keep the weapons?” I asked quickly. Then the smell of something burning reached my nostrils.

“They set it on fire. We can’t save it now. My parents…” Adan moaned. He seemed to have lost all sense of urgency. He wanted to stand there and…just do nothing.

“Adan! Stay with me! You have to have a clear mind! I need you! Standing here isn’t going to do anything!” I pleaded.

Resolution came into his face.

“Where does your father keep the weapons?” I asked. Adan ran over to one of the walls, and removed some planks of wood, revealing weapons hidden behind them.

He took a sword for himself, and gave me a bow and arrow. I had been practicing for the past few months, and was very skilled with it now. I slung the quiver over my shoulder; it was full of arrows.

“Ready?” I said. He nodded, and we raced out the door.

Adan had managed to get the animals out of the barn, and they ran freely all over the place now. We grabbed two horses and jumped up on them. We would have to ride bare-back.

We set off at a fast gallop. The horses didn’t seem to mind the pace, but I clung on for dear life.

Somehow, we would save Adan’s parents.

I didn’t know how, but we would.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Chapter 10: Life Goes On(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

1

October 16, 2008

I remained with Adan and his family while I healed, which took a very long time. I had been very sick, and the wild dog attack had given my fever new heights to aspire to.

I helped out around the house and their little farm as much as I could. I think they appreciated it, and I felt better about being able to do even something small in return for their kindness. During this time I got very close to all of them. They became like my extended family.

I was still very weak, but my strength slowly came back. My back was healed, although it had many scars.

My powers got stronger every day. Before when I used them, they made me very weak. Now when I used them, I felt almost stronger each time.

I thought about Aaliyah and my parents every day. How I missed them! If only they could…but I stopped myself. Why dream about the impossible?

I felt so…guilty. As if their deaths were my fault somehow. Why couldn’t I have been the one to die? Why couldn’t they be alive right now? Why must they die instead of me?

I wondered if anyone had ever found Aaliyah’s body, strewn as it was along the side of the road. If so, had she been given a proper burial? What type of people had found her? These types of thoughts went through my head all the time. As soon as I had found somewhere else to live on my own, I would make a proper gravestone, even though I wouldn’t actually be able to bury Aaliyah beneath it. I would put her name and date of birth and death on it, and that she had been a beloved daughter and sister.

At that moment, a voice pierced my thoughts. I had been sitting beneath a big tree in front of Adan and his family’s house. I hadn’t realized that there was someone else standing beside me.

“Aaleyah?” I heard. I looked up to see Adan standing there, gazing at me with his big blue eyes. A lock of his brown hair hung in them. He reminded me so much of Shastara…I missed him too. I wondered what had become of him and the others…

“Am I needed for something?” I asked.

“We’re going to have supper soon; my ma told me to let you know,” he said, coming to sit beside me.

“Oh. Thank you,” I said, turning back to admire the glorious sunset.

“What is wrong?” he asked. Was my face really that readable? He had gotten to know me well, and could always tell what I was thinking. Right now I was just so…sad.

“I…I can’t explain it exactly. It’s as if I feel peaceful, and then right behind that feeling there is a stormy sea inside me full of worries and sadness,” I replied. It was indeed hard to explain.

“I understand that feeling. I’ve felt it many times,” he said, staring at the sunset like I was.

“It’s just that I miss my family so much. I would give anything to have them back…I just feel so guilty. I feel like somehow their deaths are my fault. They rest on my shoulders. Why couldn’t I have died in their place? If it would bring them back, I would die in an instant. It’s just such a burden to bear…”

“It’s not your fault Aaleyah. You had nothing to do with their dying. And I, for one, am very glad that you are alive,” he said.

A secret look passed between us- a look only we could understand.

I was so thankful for Adan. He was such a wonderful friend.

“Adan! Aaleyah! Supper’s ready,” Adan’s mother called.

We quickly got up and headed for the cottage. A special bond had formed between me and him at that moment.

                                                                       ~

It had been four months since Adan’s family had first taken me in, making it almost half a year since Aaliyah’s death. I knew I should think about leaving.

Why did it always seem that I was telling people I could no longer stay with them? First Shastara and the others, and now Adan and his family…

“Mara,” I began one day as I helped her (Mara was Adan’s mother) get some bread dough together, “there’s been something on my mind.”

“And what might that be dear?” Mara said kindly. She was such a sweet woman; she really was like a mother to me.

“I have been here for a long time. I fear too long. It is not my point to run you and your family into poverty because there is an extra person to feed and buy things for,” I said.

“Nonsense! We’ve loved having you here! Truthfully Aaleyah, you’ve been the daughter I never had,” Mara replied, ceasing to knead the dough and turning to look at me.

“I know, and I’ve loved being here! I am so  grateful to you and your family.  But I don’t want to be a bother to you,” I said.

“That’s silliness! You’ve been a wonderful help, and, well, you’ve…” Mara began. Her voice faltered. “You’ve been the daughter I lost,” she finally got out.

“Oh Mara..”I murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, thank you. But I mean what I say Aaleyah. Please don’t leave us. It is our pleasure to have you with us,” she said with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“If you are sure Mara,” I began, “then I would love to stay with you!”

Mara then gave me a big, motherly hug.

As soon as we had let go and started on the bread again, Adan came in.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked us.

“Aaleyah’s staying!” Mara burst out, unable to contain herself any longer.

Adan’s whole face lit up as he smiled at me.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Tags: , , ,

Awake: Preface

6

October 12, 2008

By Miracle

What you know is not the truth

What you see is not what’s there

What you believe is not reality

There is not one lie that can save you.

Velvet was dolefully silent as she knitted the yellow yarn into a square. An oppressive shroud of gloom hung over the sky, tainting the sunlight with gossips of night. She felt a darkness in her heart, as dark as the storm clouds that choked the sun from the sky. For a moment she paused her row, feeling a gnawing tense of waiting.

Abruptly the screen door started banging back and forth and a gust of wind tore into the house. A haunted flavor cast itself over the room and she shivered, walking across the floor to the foyer, starting to latch the door closed. Her footsteps echoed eerily on the wood panels.

Halfway through the task she saw the boy, watching her from the driveway. When their eyes met, she felt as if she had seen him somewhere before. She forgot about the door and it slipped out of her fingers, resuming its wild beating.

Perhaps–if she had recaptured the door, locked all the windows, and hidden herself somewhere far away where reality could not touch her, then maybe she could have escaped her destiny. But maybe not. It was impossible to know, but the one decision she did make would change her life forever.

This decision, the turning point of her life, was built on one word. The motive of this word was only curiosity, but the path it sent her down was filled with invisible worlds of terror and ecstasy.

“Hello?” She called out to the boy, who was watching her with an immortally strange look on his face, a glance inconceivably poignant, a look that shook her to her core.

The boy walked towards her with the grace of a fairy. He paused inches before her face and waited.

Velvet stared at him and instantly felt awkward and dull. His wild blue eyes were vivid and unnaturally blue. His skin was clear and flawless, as white as a newborn lamb’s fleece, and his features were pristine and exquisite. His whole body was filled with an electricity, a supernatural energy that set him apart from anyone she had ever met before. It was hard to look at him.

“Velvet,” he said. His voice was as perfect as his face. “Velvet.”

“What?” She felt a mounting sense of apprehension. Suddenly she wished her parents were home, and she never wished that.

“You are not alone,” he said, staring at her intently.

“I know I’m not alone,” she said, hoping he was blind enough not to realize that she was lying. Her hand began sneaking towards the door as it wildly flaped like a gosling trying to fly for the first time.

“No. There are goblins. Do you see them?” The boy looked around him at the grass and the trees. Her eyes followed his almost reluctantly, but she saw no fantastical creatures. Of course she didn’t see any. Wasn’t that one of the first signs of a madman? Seeing things that were not there? Her hand found the screen door and she swung it shut, locking herself away from the mad child.

“That will not keep them out,” he said. “You’re in danger! You must come with me.”

She ran to the kitchen, her heart pounding. The wind howled in the windows and sounded like it was tearing apart the tree. She grabbed the phone off the counter and tried to decide if it was really important enough to call 911. The boy had not done anything against the law, had he? Were you allowed to call the police for a stranger standing on your front porch?

The screen door started banging again and her heart took an awful plunge. Now nothing was between her and the strange boy and his mad hallucinations. She heard it beating against the door frame and her adrenaline raced faster and faster. Then it stopped. She felt like her heart had stopped along with it.

The phone still clenched in her hand, she walked back to the foyer. The door was still open, but it had frozen in place, as if held open by invisible hands. Wind broke into the house like a bucking horse, but the door was unmoved. She did not know what to do. She could not call the police for her door acting strangely.

The boy was gone, but she did not feel relieved. She felt desperately afraid, but she did not feel alone. Evil seemed to be crawling all over her home, a dangerous companion. She felt as frozen as the door was.

Suddenly her mind was overwhelmed with foreign thoughts.

That boy would have destroyed me. That boy would have killed me. That boy would have ruined me forever. He was mad. I’m mad. I shouldn’t be afraid. This is good. This is good. I am safe. I am safe.

That thawed her. She plunged her hands over her ears, dropping the phone with a heavy thud onto the floor. These were not her thoughts. What was happening to her? Then the voices stopped and she found herself on the floor. She reluctantly stood back up. The door had swung closed and the winds had stopped. Everything was quiet. The only sound was the clock, ticking with endless consistency.

Poor, abandoned child. The thought crawled into her mind. Nobody else understands you. Nobody understood her. She was an oddity that nobody knew. She was impossible to understand. The thoughts toddled into her head, awkward and strange.

Then she heard the roar. It sounded like a leopard, catlike, flexible, and somehow safe and warm. The voice left her, and she surrendered to the warm arms of exhaustion, slipping to the floor.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Modern Fiction.

Tags: , ,

Chapter 8: An All Too Familiar Face, And a New One Besides(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

3

October 11, 2008

Abbas clamped his hand over my mouth as he put a dagger to my throat. I didn’t even have time to react other than screaming. I was caught.

“Greetings, old friend!” he said, grinning evilly. “You missed me so much you just had to see me again, didn’t you?”

I tried to run him through with my sword, not caring if I died, when it was wrenched from my hand. Abbas had brought his three friends (that had survived the fight) with him. But how had they escaped? Shastara said we had left them tied to a tree. They couldn’t escape without weapons or-then I remembered. When the wagon had exploded, the weapons had too. There were tiny pieces of them scattered about. Abbas and his men must have used them to cut the ropes somehow. This couldn’t be happening.

“Now, if you promise to be quiet, I’ll remove my hand from your mouth,” Abbas said casually, as if this were a normal situation-to be holding a dagger to a girl’s throat while you muffled her words by putting your hand over her mouth.

I didn’t answer. A plan was forming in my mind, so I decided to pretend to be compliant.

He did remove his hand… but the moment he did, I screamed Shastara’s name at the top of my lungs. I hoped he would still be close enough to hear…

The instant after I screamed “Shastara!” for the first time(I was drawing in breath to scream it again), Abbas used my sword hilt and thrust it into my ribs. It felt like being punched by a metal fist. I collapsed, gasping. I didn’t think there was any air left in me.

Through a haze of pain, I could hear more horses. Shastara and the others came back! I thought. My hope soared.

But I must have imagined it, because a few seconds later the sounds stopped. My hope plummeted. I wasn’t going to be rescued. I was going to be taken captive again, or worse…

Then suddenly I knew what to do. I didn’t want to, but it was the only way…I could feel the heat pressing in on me- heat from Abbas’s and his men’s bodies, heat from the air….I simply had to call it and it would come, and I could send it rushing into something else. Someone else.

I gathered the heat..it formed an orb in my hands! Abbas and his men leaped back shouting…but they had nothing to fear from me. At that moment something strange happened. Every ounce of energy and strength in my body fled suddenly. I fell back to the ground, unable to use my legs any longer. They felt like jelly.

“Try that again and I’ll slice your throat!” Abbas growled, kicking me as I lay there. I couldn’t move at all.

I could feel all the heat pressing down on me. It felt like I was being roasted alive! I had to get cooled off somehow, or I  would explode!

I finally found the use of my arms and hands, and I grabbed handfuls of snow and spread them on my face. I felt instant relief, although it didn’t last for long.

                                                                         ~

Shastara and the others had been much too far to hear me. I didn’t know why I would even think that they could. I was captive again, and I was deathly ill.

My fever raged as Abbas and his men once again decided what to do with me. They were so afraid of me they didn’t even want to touch me. But in the end, after wrapping cloth around their hands many times, they picked me up and carried me deep into the forest. I had wanted to go farther in to the fores, but not like this.

They left me lying on the ground, thinking if my fever didn’t kill me first, some wild animal would. Apparently they were going to take the supplies, and the one horse that had been with me, and go to the nearby town and decide what to do from there.

I was so sick I couldn’t lift a finger to stop them. I just had to watch them walk away. I gradually grew worse and worse until I was hardly breathing.

                                                                ~

I don’t know how long I lay there in the snow, burning with a fever, or how I survived. It must have been a long time-days-because when I was finally able to move again the moon was full. It had been a quarter-moon when I had first been brought here, although I wasn’t sure how I remembered that.

I was still weak, and there was no food around. All I could do was eat the snow that lay around me.

It seemed Abbas and his men were right about my fate. The fever hadn’t killed me yet, so the greatest probability was that an animal, starving from lack of food(it was in the middle of winter) came upon me and decided to feast on me.

And that was the very thing that happened. As I stood supporting myself on a nearby tree, I heard something growl. My heart leaped into my throat. I was as weak as a newborn babe, and I didn’t even have a weapon to defend myself with!

I heard the growl again, louder this time. I slowly turned my head to look over my shoulder…only to see a wolf or wild dog flying through the air at me!

I screamed as I was thrown to the ground. The wild dog, as I recognized it to be, took its huge paw and swiped me across the back with it. I screamed again as its claws went deep into my skin, ripping my flesh open, along with the still-tender scars I had from being whipped.

This is it, I thought. Here comes death…I hope I die quickly… and then just as quickly, the wild dog was off my back as if something had leapt at it and knocked it to the ground.

I managed to lift my head and saw a boy, about my age, rolling around on the ground with the dog, wrestling it. He had a dagger, and after a few moments of nearly getting teeth sunk into his neck, the boy stabbed the wolf with the dagger. He pushed it off of himself and stood.

It lay there on the ground writhing for a few moments, then went still. The boy took his dagger out of the wolf’s throat and wiped it on the ground. Then he turned to me.

He quickly ran over. “Hold on,” he said. His handsome face was full of worry.

“I’ll try,” I gasped. But I wasn’t sure if I would be able to…

 

 

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Tags: , , ,

Chapter 5: A Change of Destination(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

6

October 3, 2008

AN: Hey people!!!

So here’s the latest chappy in my story(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn-still needs a title). I don’t really think it’s so great, and I know you’ll be able to think of some critiques! I prob. would if I was reading this and I wasn’t the author :D

Tell me what you think!!!

by raven14

I could see nothing. Everything was pitch black. My eyelids were heavy; I couldn’t open them…I felt those icy fingers that could belong to only one thing- Death. They had almost completely closed about my heart.

Then I heard a voice- Aaliyah’s voice. “Hold on Aaleyah. All is not lost. Hold on.” 

I could see her. We were standing, facing each other in a forest. The snow sparkled in the sunlight, but strangely, I wasn’t cold. I was just awed at the breathtaking beauty around me.

“I want to be with you. I don’t want to live any more,” I said. I walked toward her.

“No Aaleyah; you can’t now. Hold on. You can’t give up yet,” she said, taking a step back.

“But I want to! There is no point for living,” I insisted. Why didn’t she understand? Why wouldn’t she let me stay?

“Just hold on Aaleyah. I love you,” she said. Suddenly I was whooshing backwards, away from her. I hear the wind rushing in my ears.

“Noooooooo….” I cried. My voice echoed. I tried to stop and run back to her, but in a moment, she was gone.

                                                                           ~

“Aaleyah! Wake up; you’re just having a bad dream,” I heard someone say. Was it Aaliyah?

I eagerly opened my eyes, and then shut them as fast as I could. I was under a tree, and Karysa,  (a girl who had been traveling with us) not Aaliyah,  was bending over me! We were in the same seemingly endless woods. I didn’t want to be here! I wanted to go back to that beautiful place where my sister was…

“No, no, no!” I cried. “This isn’t real! Leave me alone! I want to die!” I said.

“No you don’t ! Calm down, all will be fine,” Karysa said soothingly.

“Yes I do!” I said loudly, too loudly. What I didn’t know was that now Abbas was on his way to deal with me. “Let me die, I beg you!” I cried.

Then I heard an all too familiar voice- a voice that I never wanted to hear again. I instantly recoiled at it.

“Beg do you? Interesting,” he taunted. “I think I can have that arranged,” he said, beginning to draw his sword out of its sheathe.

“Don’t touch her!” Shastara yelled. He was suddenly in front of me in a protective position.

“I wouldn’t actually kill her, but if I really wanted to, a mere boy like you couldn’t stop me,” he said. He resheathed his sword.

“Well Kirian filth, how do you like being so close to death?” he said to me.

“I’m not close enough in my opinion,” I replied saucily.

This turned the sly, confident smirk on his face into a deep frown.

“I can’t wait to be rid of this one!” he said angrily, turning away. “The first town we come to, let’s sell her there. Or leave her on the side of the road like her piece-of-filth sister.”

This made me so mad I sprang up to try to get at him, but my back had different ideas. The pain nearly made me pass out again, and I fell back down, gasping.

Once again the smirk returned to his face. I could tell he very much loved to get under my skin. I had been foolish to react; all I had done was given him pleasure.

He walked away, yelling to his men to get everything moving again. Most of us had just woken up. Dawn’s first light was now spilling over the hills, bathing things in a soft golden glow.

“Aaleyah, this has to stop. They are going to kill you,” Shastara said quietly as we were led back to the wagon. Once inside, our wrists were tied again.

“I want them to!” I said.

“No you don’t,” he said.

“Just leave me alone! I want to die. I am weary of life. There is nothing you can do to-”I began. But I never got to finish, as racing down the hill behind us came about thirty men, all on horses. They were screaming and brandishing swords!

“We’re under attack!” I heard Abbas yell to his men. “Get your weapons!!”

I heard shouts of surprise as the barbarians saw their enemies come upon them. I heard blood-curdling screams as men were killed. Even now blood splattered on us as we huddled together in the wagon, praying we weren’t noticed.

After a few more minutes, the sounds of fighting ceased. We heard someone shout, “Surrender!”, and it was all over.

Abbas and three more of his men were kneeling on the ground, their hands in the air. Everyone else who had been in their company lay dead on the ground. It seemed like hardly any of our attackers had died.

Then I heard another voice shout, “Check the wagon and see what goods are there!” I was sure that, upon being found, I, Shastara, and the others would probably be dead in less than ten seconds.

Footsteps approached the wagon. A face peered over the side…and then we heard an exclamation of surprise.

“There are children in here!” a man yelled as he came to climb inside the wagon. “It looks like they were being held hostage.”

“How many are there?” another yelled back.

“Two boys and four girls! And not too ugly at that,” he said, pinching my cheek. This I could not stand. I swung my leg out, tripping him and causing him to fall out of the wagon. He lay on his back on the ground for a few moments, and then abruptly stood up and got back in the wagon. He came right over and slapped me in the face.

“Don’t try that again filth!” he snarled. His anger-reddened face got even redder when he heard the laughing of his companions.

“See what else there is, and try not to get beat up by the children while you’re at it,” I heard as I blinked back tears. That great lug, dumb as he was, certainly didn’t lack strength. My cheek stung.

His face got even angrier, and a vein in his neck bulged out as he tried not to explode in anger. He began to search through the crates and barrels in the wagon.

Oh Aaliyah, I thought, why couldn’t you have let me stay with you?

“There’s food, silk, and-” the man began. He stopped as if unable to believe what he saw in a crate he had opened.

“What is it?” one of his companions called.

“Weapons! There are swords, bows and arrows, daggers-you have to see this!”he said, his voice still full of disbelief. I couldn’t believe it myself! All this time, we had been sitting in a wagon full of weapons! We could have freed ourselves or put a sword to Abbas’s throat and demanded we be let go! But then, being weak with fatigue and hunger, not to mention being half the size of Abbas and his men, we would easily have had the weapons wrenched from our hands. And then there was the matter of us not even knowing how to use weapons.

His companions came running, clambering over the side of the wagon. I drew back as far as I could as one man nearly climbed on top of me in his excitement to reach the weapons.

Suddenly Shastara’s little sister began to shriek. One of the great pigs was standing on top of her hand as he tried to push his way through! He looked as if he must weigh the most out of anyone!

“Shut up!” he growled, about to kick her. I dived in front of her, and nearly screamed as a huge foot came slamming into my wounded back. I lay there, about to pass out again…when suddenly, a large orange flame formed by my hand! I screamed and rolled away from it, falling out of the wagon as I did so. It was so strange! It was an ordinary flame, and it had just…appeared there! As if someone was setting a camp fire in the wagon instead of on the ground…

The heavy man stamped it out, and then began blaming everyone around him for setting it. They all had no idea what he was talking about; they had just been admiring the weapons! He finally stopped, although his face said he still suspected one of them.

No one even bothered to try to get me up off of the snowy ground. Shastara tried to say that I needed help, but one of our new captors just told him to be silent or he would regret it.

Finally, one by one, Shastara, his sister, and the others were kicked off the wagon. Why the men didn’t put the crates on the ground and examine them there, I didn’t know. All I did know was we had to escape, one way or the other.

Shastara came over and helped me stand. Surprisingly, no one was even guarding us- although had we tried to run, we would have easily been stopped.

Suddenly I felt so mad! We were treated like livestock, taken from one place to the other, to be sold at the market! These men were pigs and I despised them!

About five seconds later, it was as if I felt something flowing out of my hands, which were still tied behind me. I felt like I was floating… I watched in horror, as from my behind my back, coming from my hands, a jet of blue fire flew towards the wagon.

As soon as it struck, the wagon exploded. I screamed again, and we quickly dove to the ground. Pieces of wood and weapons flew everywhere, narrowly missing us as we huddled on the ground.

The rest of the new captors came running with shouts. What had happened? Was there some sort of sorcerer around?

Suddenly I felt much weaker than before. I was so weak I couldn’t move any part of my body at all.  

Then the men took one look at us, and ran away screaming. They quickly got on their horses and galloped away. I looked down at myself. I was indeed floating; hovering ten feet off the ground! I was completely surrounded by the same yellow-orange flame that had first been on the wagon. I must have looked like a big ball of fire. I could feel the heat radiating out of me. I seemed to draw heat out of the air as I floated there.

What was wrong with me? I began to float gently to the ground. My legs were like jelly and I collapsed.

“Aaleyah! What did you do?” I heard Shastara say as he cut the rope off my wrists. One of the jagged pieces of a sword had served for the boys to free each other, and now they came around freeing us.

“I..don’t…”I mumbled. I was so tired…I couldn’t talk…The others just stared at me with horror in their faces. They were glad their captors were gone, but they were not glad at the thought that they had been traveling with a girl who seemed to be a sorceress.

“I didn’t..I didn’t try…” I couldn’t get a whole sentence out of my mouth! It was so frustrating. I wanted to tell them that there was nothing wrong with me. I was no sorceress! There must be one somewhere else putting a spell on me! But try as I might, I couldn’t talk.

My eyelids slowly closed. The darkness overwhelmed me. I heard Aaliyah’s voice. She was singing…it sounded so soothing and beautiful…and after that, I knew nothing.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Tags:

Chapter 4: The Slave Market(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

4

September 30, 2008

Author’s note: I don’t know how those of you who read this can do so without thinking that it shouldn’t be posted on here in the first place :D  PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE tell me if you find any mistakes, boring parts, parts that need more explaining, etc.!!!!!

Please tell me what you think!!!!!! Your critques are SO helpful! Even if they say I need to learn how to write:D

by raven14

After those awful months, during which I lost both my parents and my sister- my best friend- I lived in a trance. Nothing mattered anymore. I had thought life was over when my parents died. Now it was completely empty, meaningless, and void of all purpose for living. I didn’t care what happened to me now.

I thought again about how Aaliyah had been cruelly dumped along the road. Even if she had been barely alive when she had been dragged beneath a bush, the cold temperature would have killed her soon after. There was no chance at all that she was alive. I knew it; I just didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it…

“Eat!” I heard a voice command. I looked up and realized one of the barbarians had been trying to give me food this whole time. I turned my eyes back to the ground. I wasn’t hungry. I knew I was growing painfully thin, but I didn’t care. Finally, after glaring at me, the man realized I wasn’t going to eat no matter what he did, and so he left.

We had been on the road for two months now- two long, cold, and miserable months. When winter had struck before Aaliyah’s death, it had struck hard. There were probably three feet of snow or more on the ground each day, making it impossible for us to walk behind the wagon anymore. Now at least we were all allowed to sit in it, although we were still tied up.

Suddenly bits and pieces of a conversation drifted toward my ears, although it was in the barbarians language. I was beginning to grasp the meanings of the different words they used, but I didn’t understand everything I was hearing. ”She’s not eating anything at all! She’s getting thinner and thinner! That scum won’t sell for much if she has no flesh on her bones!” I heard a man say. It souned like the man who had just tried to force the food on me.

“I am aware of that Caiphus. I have eyes,” I heard another voice say. That was the leader, whose name was Abbas Haddad. His name, “Abbas”, meant “stern or lion”. That certainly described him. He was probably one of the sternest people I had ever met.

“What do we do?” Caiphus said.

“Let me take care of it. For now I want you to tend to the horses. Obviously tending to the prisoners is too hard for you,” Abbas said. I smirked. That must have gone over well with Caiphus. I could imagine him getting all red in the face.

Then the smirk quickly disappeared. Abbas was now approaching me, and he didn’t look happy.

“Kirian scum, my man tells me you won’t eat. Is this true?”he said with a scowl on his face.

“It is,” I replied cooly, looking straight into his face. I wasn’t going to show my fear of him.

“You will eat, because I say you will,” he said sternly, glaring at me.

“No, I will not eat,” I replied in the Ashan language; his language, “You can try to make me, but I don’t care. I won’t do it. You can threaten to kill me, but that would a reward for me. I would rather die than live anymore.” I said all of this calmly and resolutely, keeping a straight face;  not letting any emotions show. I really didn’t care. In truth I would truly rather die then stay on in captivity.

“Ah, but there you are wrong. You will eat, and you will do what I say. I don’t care if I have to hold you down as my men shove food in your mouth. You will submit to me,” he said angrily, grabbing my chin and forcing my face up so that I had to look into his eyes.

“You do not scare me,” I said. “Try what you will.” With that, he spun on his heel and left. He did not like to be told no. My eyes dropped back to the ground. Then my more sensible side kicked in. What would he do to me? It could be horrible. But then, I didn’t care. I wanted to stop existing, so what did it really matter?

“Aaleyah, don’t mess with these men. They won’t hesitate to kill you,” someone beside me said quietly in Kirian. I was surprised. I and the others hardly spoke it anymore. We weren’t allowed to speak in it, in case we were conspiring to run away. I looked back up to see Shastara staring at me with concern in his striking blue eyes.

“I don’t care. They can kill me. I want to die,” I said firmly.

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

“I do. All that mattered to me is gone; everything I loved was taken from me. Why continue to breathe, and know that every breath you will ever take again will be that of one captive and alone?” I said. He didn’t get it. His sister was alive. He didn’t understand.

“My parents died too. Don’t you think I know how you feel?” he said gently.

“You aren’t alone! I am, and I always will be,” I replied. I fixed my gaze on the roots of a nearby tree.

“You aren’t alone Aaleyah,” Shastara said. He took my hand and squeezed it.

“No you’re not,” I heard another quiet voice say. It was Karysa speaking. She had been one of the girls who had been traveling with the rest of us before- before catastrophe had struck. She smiled encouragingly and squeezed my hand too. I didn’t reply.

Normally these kind acts would have touched me. But now I was hardened and cold.

I heard footsteps. Abbas and three other men had returned.

“So Kirian scum. You think you can ignore me and do as you please. Let’s see about that, shall we?” Abbas said. He made some signal to his men, and I was then roughly dragged from the wagon we were sitting in.

“Leave her alone!” Shastara said, making a move as if to help me. He instantly received a punch to his ribs, which winded him. He fell back, gasping. I gave him a look that said, Don’t try to help me. I don’t want you hurt for my sake.

Abbas had brought some of the better food he and his men enjoyed with him. He hoped to weaken me, but it wasn’t going to work.

“See this? This food is better than anything you have been offered so far. You may this every day if you will submit to me. Well, what do you say?” Abbas said, offering a piece of food to me.

I said nothing. I just stared off into the distance, ignoring him.

Abbas made another signal to his men, and I was dragged over to a tree and forced to sit against it. Abbas’s men took long, thick ropes and wrapped them around me and the tree many times, so that I could not move at all.

I knew what was coming, and I clamped my shut as tight as I could.

Abbas put some gruel on a spoon, and lowered the spoon toward my mouth.

“Eat!” he commanded. I refused to open my mouth.

Then he tried to force it open. I was clenching my jaw shut so tightly I was afraid it would stay that way forever.

In the end though, he got it open. He shoved the spoon into my mouth. I spit the gruel out into his face. He yelled and struck me across the face. He tried again, but to no avail. Finally, with a growl, he left to get something.

He must have given his men yet another signal, because I was untied and thrown to the ground. There were two trees very close to each other. One of my arms was tied to one tree’s branches, and my other arm was tied to the other tree’s brances. I was now suspended from the two trees by my arms. I hung there and wished I could just die. I heard Shastara try again to come to my aid. Then I heard a sword being taken out of its sheathe, and I realized that Shastara probably had a sword at his throat, daring him to try to save me again.

“So, you still won’t submit to me?” Abbas said, looking me in the face. He was trying to scare me into submission.  

I wouldn’t reply.

“Fine then. Have it your way,” he said, uncoiling a long whip and coming around to the other side of me.

I knew what was coming, as before. I braced myself… I heard the whip before I felt it, and when I did feel it, I nearly screamed. The pain was so agonizing! But I couldn’t give in. That was what he wanted. Rather let him whip me until I died. That was what I wanted.

After giving me about six lashes, he finally gave up, throwing the whip onto the ground beside me.

“Don’t think this is over wench! I’ll break you yet,” he said angrily, and then he stomped away to his horse. I was surprised he would actually whip me. If he had any chance of selling me at all, killing me with a whip didn’t benefit him. I then figured that at this point, he didn’t really care as much about selling me as he did about breaking me to his will.

I was in so much pain, although the barbarians certainly didn’t care as they cut me down from the trees and dumped me into the wagon. I groaned, and they laughed at the sound, calling me “Kirian scum” and “filth”.

“Aaleyah!” I heard Shastara say. I felt strong, gentle arms beneath me, and then I was lying on my stomach. Karysa took some of snow on the wagon and spread it over the bleeding welts on my back. I gasped sharply. Then she gently began to wipe my back with small strips of cloth ripped from the bottom of her dress. My dress was tattered, and now my back was more exposed than before. It was my fault; I knew it. But I almost welcomed the pain as an escape from my thoughts- thoughts of my family, thoughts of freedom…

The wagon jolted forward again. Every little bump on the road and jolt of the wagon was agony for my back. But I didn’t care.

The edges of my vision began to go dark. Unconsciousness was coming. I only hoped that I would never again wake up. I wanted to die. I welcomed death’s icy fingers closing about my heart…

Everything went completely dark. I wondered if this was my last look at the world.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , , ,

Chapter 3: The Shadow of Death(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

5

September 29, 2008

YAAAAAY!!! EVERYONE SCREAM AND SHOUT!!! RAVEN14 IS POSTING MORE OF HER ENTIRELY BORING AND TRASHY STORY!!!! LET’S PARTY!!!!

Seriously :D , if you think this story stinks out of this world, tell me. Coz’ I kinda think that, esp. when I read you guy’s(improper grammar/spelling/ punc. there, sorry) AWESOME stories.

So, whoever votes this story off of WE, tell me fast.

And while you’re at it, tell me what you think.

:D

by raven14

Finally, long after the sun had gone down in the sky, we stopped again. Everyone collapsed, exhausted. Even some of the barbarians looked as if they couldn’t go another step even if forced to. For that I was glad.

We (what do you readers suggest i say? children, kirians, teens, what? coz not all of them are teens. so i’m sorta at a loss for what to say. suggestions are helpful :D anyway, for right now i will just say ”we”) were each given a small hunk of bread, a small piece of cheese, some salted pork, and some water. I was surprised we got that much. I had expected a sip of water, maybe a few bites of bread- certainly not this. But of course I was thankful, as were the others.

We were untied, but a close watch was kept on us. We rubbed our sore wrists, which were all chafed and raw. My right leg ached so much I didn’t think I could stand if I had wanted to-and that was not to mention that as it continued to get colder throughout the night, it became even worse.

The barbarians, of course, each had a blanket. They were also dressed warmly for such cold temperatures. We had expected to be at our destination by now, sleeping in a warm inn under many blankets, so we were not nearly as prepared.

We were given one- one thin, tiny blanket to cover all seven of us. We huddled together on the hard, frozen ground as much as we could, attempting to keep each other warm. Aaliyah and I slept with our arms around each other, as much for comfort as for warmth.

~

I awoke to something wet and cold on my face. I opened my eyes to see soft snowflakes falling on us. The ground was covered in a thin white blanket. My clothes had absorbed so much snow they felt frozen stiff.

The winter had really begun now, and it had been predicted to be a much colder winter than last year’s winter was, hence the snow so early on. It was only, if I remembered correctly, the fifth day of the eleventh month. Snow never came this early for us.

Our legs were so cold that we could not feel them, so one of the barbarians at least built a small fire so that we could warm them enough to be able to use them again. The snow melted off of us, running down our bodies in little streams of water. It was surprising we weren’t dead.

I was so afraid we would all get frostbite. My father had once been trapped in a blizzard all night, nearly losing all of his fingers and toes. Thinking of him created a sharp pain in my heart. If only he was alive, and on his way to rescue us…but it wasn’t true. I would never see the father I had loved with all my heart again; neither him nor my mother. I missed them so much…

Thankfully he had been found in time to be able to keep them. In our case though, no one would be rescuing us, and this fire would probably be one of the only fires we got to warm ourselves near all day. I just hoped the barbarians realized that we could not go as far as them without collapsing or worse.

Finally, after being given some warm, yet tasteless, gruel as breakfast, we were ordered to get up again. We were given warmer clothing, and Shastara’s little sister was at last allowed to ride in the wagon. It appeared the barbarians weren’t completely mindless.

We were tied to the wagon again. By this time it was so cold we couldn’t even feel our raw wrists being cut into by the ropes again, so in a sense, for awhile, the cold was to our advantage.

The wagon slowly went forward again. The barbarians had cleared a path through the snow for some miles up ahead, and continued to do so, so the wagon went more smoothly then it would have.

With each step our shoes sunk in the snow, getting completely saturated with it. I glanced at Aaliyah. She looked very sick. She never had been able to be out in really cold temperatures. She had a form of lung sickness and was still getting better from it, meaning that the slightest too-cold tempertature could be fatal. I was really scared for her. Even now her breathing was turning raspy and heavy. I walked over to her side, looking into her fever-glazed eyes.

The snow continued to fall softly about us. I looked up the gray sky and hoped with all my might that blizzards weren’t coming soon in this unnatural winter. That would be all we needed.

Suddenly Aaliyah stumbled and fell. She didn’t move. The wagon was now dragging her along.

“Aaliyah!” I said. “Please, stop! My sister is ill!” I shouted.

“Shut up and keep walking!” I heard one of the men shout. Then I heard a whip crack as one of the men came over with a scowl on their face. Then he saw Aaliyah on the ground and left. He was probably getting the leader.

“Aaliyah, please wake up!” I cried. The wagon stopped and I shook her by the shoulders. She didn’t move or open her eyes. Her breathing was so slow it was almost non-eixstent.

The leader and another man came over.

“Let go of her,” the leader said to me.

“Not unless you let her ride in the wagon! She’s very sick!” I cried, gripping her even tighter. Then I realized with increasing terror that Aaliyah was no longer breathing.

“Aaliyah! Wake up!” I said frantically. I shook her harder. No response was given.

“I said let go!” the leader growled, signalling to his man to pry my arms off of her.

“Kai!” the leader shouted. Another barbarian that I remembered from before came running.

“This one’s as good as dead. Untie her and leave her in the bushes by the side of the road,” he said to Kai.

“No!” I screamed. “Aaliyah!” I received a slap in the face from the leader, and then he held me back tightly in his strong arms and covered my mouth with his hand. My screams were muffled.

I tried my hardest to wiggle out of his arms, but I got nowhere. Kai cut Aaliyah’s ropes, and then dragged her over to the side of the road and hid her in some bushes. She was now concealed from all of our sight.

“Let’s keep going!” the leader commanded. He released me with a shove and then walked away. The wagon pulled forward again.

“No! She’s not dead! Go back for her! Please!” I screamed. I was completely ignored. “Aaliyah!! Aaliyah!!”

“Shut up!” Kai said as he came up to me. He punched me in my ribs after he was sure his leader wasn’t looking, and then he climbed onto his horse and galloped to the front of the line.

I would have fallen but for Shastara suddenly coming beside me and supporting me. I stumbled on, gasping for breath. I was sure some of my ribs had been broken.

I looked back to where Aaliyah had been thrown. I couldn’t see her.

My heart was broken. Aaliyah was dead, lying strewn under a bush. I heard a gut-wrenching sob, and realized I was the one who had made it. The tears began to flow down my face.

This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be dead. I needed her to be alive.

But she wasn’t.

I was alone.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , , ,

Chapter 2: Decisions(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

4

September 18, 2008

Author’s note: Tell me what you think. I personally think that I need to “go back to the drawing board” for this chapter. I’m not the best at writing, so any critiques/advice you have are much appreciated.

by raven14

We all sat in a circle on the ground. Our captors stood a few feet away, arguing over what to do with us. They were, after all, meager robbers(although very skilled in their ways of ambushing and the like). They hadn’t expected to find seven children amongst the things they were stealing.

One of the boys who had been traveling with us could understand their language. He quietly translated to us what they were saying.

“They are talking about what to do with us. I can’t understand everything they’re saying, but it sounds like they can’t make up their minds what to do with us. Now the one that seems like their leader is telling them all to be quiet. He’s saying that they should…” Here the boy, who’s name was Shastara, stopped. His voice faltered, and he seemed unable to go on.

“What is it?” I said.

The barbarians had turned around and were coming back towards them. Instantly Shastara clamped his mouth shut. His countenance became stony; his face closed up.  The rest of the children did likewise, fixing their gazes on the ground and closing their mouths….all of them but me. I glared at the men with what I hoped was a fiery glare.

“Fiesty are we?” one of the men said, observing my glare. Apparently  more than one of the barbarians knew the our native language.

“Let us go! We are of no use to you,” I said defiantly, but my trembling voice betrayed my fear.

“No; I’m sorry, but that simply can’t be done. Instead we’re going to sell you. On the market. The slave market. Not a very nice place for you…but very nice for us. Lots of money we’ll make!” the barbarian said. He chuckled and turned back to the other men.

“Alright! Let’s move out!” he said. The other men quickly scrambled to throw the former wagon driver’s body and the body of the man next to him into the bushes, where no one would be able to see them. They then got on the wagon.

“Kai! Tie up their wrists. They can walk behind the wagon, ” the barbarian who appeared to be the leader of the little group said.

Kai, a heavy set man, hurried to obey. He got some rope out of the wagon, and using a dagger, cut it into seven long pieces. He then roughly began to tie up each of us so that our wrists were attached to one end of a piece of rope. The other end was tied to the wagon.

“Please! My sister can’t walk like this! At least let her ride in the wagon!” Shastara pleaded.

“I think not. She can walk with the rest of you,” the barbarian leader said. Shastara glared at him, and as soon as he turned his back, Shastara lifted his little sister onto his shoulders.

The wagon jolted forward, making all of us nearly fall to the ground. I had a limp; I had since birth. We were never sure why. But somehow we managed to stay upright.

We stumbled through thick mud, falling many times. We nearly twisted our ankles in the many potholes in the road. By the time the leader called a halt, we were dirty and scratched. Shastara fell to the ground, completely exhausted.

Kai came over and kicked him in the ribs, telling him to get up. Shastara, hardly able to breathe, painfully got to his knees. He helped his sister off his shoulders. She clung to him and sobbed. He was so tired he could hardly wrap his arms around her.

A sob unexpectedly rose up in my throat. I tried to swallow it, but I couldn’t. I began to cry so hard that I shook. Aaliyah put her tied arms over my head to try to hug me, but I continued to cry. This couldn’t be real! Our parents were dead, and we were soon to be sold for slaves.

“Silence!” one of the barbarians said, striking me across the face. I and Aaliyah, still hugging me, fell to the muddy ground. Suddenly my sadness was replaced with anger. I got to my feet and stood defiantly in front of the man. I felt like killing him.

“Don’t touch me, barbarian scum!” I spat out angrily. Then it occured to me, through my haze of anger, that this was the most foolish thing I could have done or said. The man in front of me was a good two heads taller than me and probably ten times as strong. He could crush my head in his hands.

He swung his fist at me, but I ducked just in time. He raised his fist to try again, but just then his leader came by.

“What are you doing?” he said angrily.

“She is-” the man in front of me began.

“A girl that we are going to sell, but if she is damaged, no one will buy her!” the leader said, cutting him off. “If I see you touch her again or even try to, I will personally cut off every finger on your guilty hand.” The accused man looked so shocked I thought his mouth would drop open.

“You think I won’t do it?” his leader said. “Go ahead, touch her. Test me,” he said, staring into the other man’s eyes.

The man took one look at me, and then quickly walked away. I shivered. In that look I had seen the promise that this was not over.

“And you, Kirian brat,” the leader said, turning to me. I turned back to look at him. “..I am not always around to see my men’s actions. I will not be able to stop them every time you annoy them. I will not hold them responsible for something I do not see them do,” he finished. He looked deep into my eyes as if to say, Do you take my meaning? Then he spun on his heel and went back to his horse.

“Aaleyah! What were you thinking?” Aaliyah said to me as I helped her up. “He could have…he could have…” She wasn’t even able to finish her sentence.

We heard the barbarian leader give the command for us to continue on with our journey. The wagon jolted forward again, pulling us with it. My legs already ached, especially the one that had the limp, the right one.

“I don’t know what I was thinking Aaliyah. All I do know is that somehow, someday, I will make these man pay. I will,” I said steadfastly. She looked away, probably thinking how foolish I was. My own words sounded ridiculous even in my ears, but I meant them. These barbarians would rue the day they ever saw us.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , , ,

Skeleton by Kira K. Homsher :]

3

September 16, 2008

PROLOGUE

Her hands were heavy—heavier than the bundle she was clutching in her arms. It took all of her fading energy just to remember that there was something important to do before she died, something more important than anything else. Her hands trembled with the effort and she grimaced in pain. The woman needed a supernatural hope to keep crawling through the freezing snow towards the house that seemed so far away. She looked down at the bundle and her baby looked back at her, shivering. Her face was as white as the snow and her fair hair was not unlike the wilting, dead flowers she held in her little arms.

Instead of the hope the woman had been looking for, she felt despair. Her lips puckered into a frown and she let out a dry sob. She looked like she had barely another minute ahead of her. If there is no hope for me, why does my precious daughter have to be sacrificed as well? She wondered. She could not stand for that to happen. Tearing her eyes away from her baby’s perfect face, she stared ahead through the white, fuzzy blizzard, and pushed herself onward.

The woman kept up pace, and after a time, which seemed like hours she could see a tall dark figure before her. She cried out as loud as she could. She distantly heard voices through the buzzing in her ears, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. The dying woman blinked, trying to see whoever had come to help, but everything was black.

“She’s not going to make it,” A velvet female voice chimed.

“I know,” the woman gasped at her, “Save my girl, save Evanna.”

The baby girl whimpered softly, barely loud enough to hear, and it felt like someone was squeezing the woman’s heart dry. She slumped down in the snow and curled up in a ball around her child. She held her only baby close to her, until her shallow heartbeats rattled no more in her chest.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: ,

PART ONE: Chapter 1: Kidnapped(the story of Aaleyah Kiara Fallyn)

10

September 10, 2008

Author’s note: This era is not modern or anything like that. It is fantasy, so in an era with swords, shields, kings, queens, magic, etc. If you have read any fantasy books you will know what I mean.

by raven14

‘”Mama! Papa!’”we screamed. There was no answer. They were dead underneath the blazing heap that had been our home….

I awoke with a start in a clammy sweat. My dream had been awful!

I  got up and padded softly over to the window. The sky was still dark; it was very early in the morning. No birds sang yet.

Today was the day. We were to leave and begin our long journey to the orphanage in but a few hours. I still couldn’t believe we were actually going. We were leaving the only place we could call home and going to an entirely strange new place. We wouldn’t know anyone and or know how life was there. We could be separated; adopted by two different families- and there would be nothing that I or Aaliyah could do about it. We were helpless in the matter.

I went over all the possible disasters in my mind. I had to force myself to stop. I wouldn’t let them separate us. I would keep my sister with me, no matter the cost.

I heard Aaliyah stirring. I turned and found her stretching in her bed.

“Aaleyah?” she whispered sleepily.

“I’m right here,” I whispered back.

“When do we have to leave?” she said softly.

“In a few hours I think,” I responded, turning back to the window. Then I heard the sound of quiet sobbing. I turned around to see Aaliyah crying. I quickly went to her bed and crawled under the covers next to her. I wrapped my arms around her and spoke soothingly in her ear.

“It’s alright Aaliyah. We still have each other. We always will. If anyone tries to separate us, we won’t let them. I promise. Nothing will happen to you. I’ll take care of you,” I said.

“But Aaleyah, they’re gone! Mama and Papa are gone! We’ll never see them again! Everything won’t be fine. How can we survive without them? Strangers will take us, and-” she began. I interrupted.

“We still have each other! That’s all that matters. As long as we’re together, everything will be fine!” I said. I hugged her tight. Her sobs slowly subsided and she was left with a tear streaked face. What I didn’t tell her was that I had had the exact same thoughts the night before. I had cried myself to sleep.
We quickly packed our bags, leaving out the black dresses Mrs. Briggs had lent us to wear for the funeral which had happened a few days ago. Watching our parents be lowered into the cold ground had been so painful.
We went to the kitchen where Mrs. Briggs was already up preparing breakfast for us. Over these last five days, we hadn’t eaten much. I didn’t eat much now; instead picking at my food. Aaliyah, on the other hand, at least managed to down a piece of Mrs. Briggs homemade bread with strawberry preserves on top and a tumbler of milk.
She also prepared a lunch and light supper for us for the road. We put them in a little bag with a few others we would need to be on hand.
After that, there wasn’t much to do other than get dressed. We sat and waited for about another hour, and then it was time to go. Mrs. Briggs hugged us both and then her husband drove us into town, where a man taking a shipment to Il’Karris(the city where the orphanage was) was waiting with a wagon. Since he was already going that way, he had agreed to take us and a few other children to the orphanage.
Mr. Briggs led us to the place where we were to meet the man taking us. He was there with his wagon- which seemed full to the brim with goods.
I and Aaliyah got inside the wagon. It (the back, in which we were sitting) had been covered with canvas so no one could see what goods the man driving the wagon had underneath. The canvas was also to hide the fact that there were children in the wagon. As we got in, we found barrels, boxes, other various objects, and other girls and boys our age. These were the other children going to the orphanage. It was very cramped and we either had to squat, sit, or lie down. If we tried any other position, our heads would hit against the canvas covering.
Mr. Briggs saw us off, waving as we pulled away. We didn’t wave back. Each of us was too caught up in our thoughts that we didn’t even notice.
~
Everything had been going fine. We had(or rather, I had; Aaliyah remained stonily silent) gotten acquainted with the other children. There were three girls, besides I and Aaliyah, and then two boys as well. We introduced ourselves and asked each other’s ages. We talked about our lives before this, and our fears of what lay ahead. I surprised myself by being able to mention my parents’ death without crying. I thought it must be because over these last few days I had cried every tear in my body.
Everyone seemed haunted by the fact that they were going to live in an orphanage. It was surreal. This sole fact bonded us together in a sort of way.
After talking quietly for awhile, some of us slept while the others ate lunch. I was among those who ate, although Aaliyah slept with her head resting on my shoulder. I didn’t have the heart to wake her. Maybe in sleep she could escape for a short while from the recent tragedies of our life. Even now a small smile played on her lips as she slept.
Suddenly we all heard the galloping of horses- horses other than the ones pulling the wagon we were in.
Then the wagon abruptly swerved on the road. It nearly tipped over. I screamed, as did the other girls. The horses began to gallop wildly. I could hear shouting; it sounded like the man who had sitting in the front with the driver of the wagon. Then the shouting suddenly ceased. Now we could hear voices yelling in a foreign language.
Then suddenly the canvas covering over the wagon was ripped off and a tall, burly man grabbed me by the hair and hauled me to the ground. I screamed again. Shouts of surprise at finding seven children in the wagon came from the man’s mouth and those around him. There were eight men besides him.
The other men came over to the wagon and dragged Aaliyah and the others out in much the same fashion. We were made to sit in a circle on the ground. We were guarded by some of the men while the others searched through the goods. I realized with a sickening feeling that the driver of our wagon and the other man had been killed. I could see them slumped over with many arrows sticking into them. I wanted to vomit.
The barbarians, for that is what I thought them to be, talked loudly to each other in their foreign language. They even shouted at us, but we had no idea what they wanted us to do. Then one of them interpreted; he must speak our language- Kirian. It was a flowing, soft language compared to the deep guttural language they spoke.
Our hands were tied behind our backs. We were then made to get up and stand in a line. It reminded me of the stories of slaves and how they stood in a line to be inspected before they were sold.
The barbarian who had first spoken to us said something. The interpreter explained, gruffly, that we were to remain absolutely silent and do whatever we were told. If we didn’t listen, the men would kill us. I had no doubt he meant it, and obviously the sobbing girl( one of the ones who had traveled with us) realized the same, for she quickly clamped her mouth shut and became as quiet as if she were dead.
I looked at Aaliyah. Her eyes were full of fear, much as I was sure mine were, and seemed to say, What is going on? Why is this happening? I honestly didn’t know. I just hoped we would make it out alive. I hoped that with all my heart.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, I'M TO LAZY TO CORRECTLY CATAGORIZE MY STORY!!!!!!!!!! :P.

Tags: , , , ,

Prologue: Flames – By Raven14

9

September 3, 2008

On that fateful day, time stopped. Everything froze. It seemed I lived in a trance.

My parents are dead…gone, I thought. I’ll never see them again…

What seemed an eternity ago had really only been last night. We, I, my sister, and my parents had eaten supper and been sleeping peacefully in our beds.

We weren’t sure how it happened; it was possible one of us left a candle burning and the cat knocked it over. We would never know.

The thatch-roofed cottage we lived in suddenly was a flaming deathtrap. The roof was quickly licked up by the flames.

My parents somehow managed to get my sister and I to a window. We had barely squeezed through; it was a small window. We had jumped to the ground.

Our parents had tried to fit through the window but couldn’t. As they ran to the door to try and move the large piece of furniture that had fallen in front of it in the fire, the old roof, ablaze, caved in on them, killing them instantly. All my sister and I could do was stand by and watch. We screamed their names but heard no response.

By this time people from the town and neighbors had come running. They quickly put out the fire. Aaliyah(my sister) and I were taken to a neighbor’s house, cleaned up, and put to bed. We were in shock. The woman helping us had to dress us in unburned clothes like we were babies.

“Aaleyah?” I heard. I realized someone was saying my name. I was annoyed. Couldn’t anyone think enough to realize that I didn’t want to be bothered now? Why did they have to come to give me their pity? I felt sick to my stomach.

I pretended to be asleep; my eyes were squeezed shut against my tears anyway. I felt a hand stroke my cheek, and then I heard footsteps leaving the room.

I turned onto my side, clutching the blanket. I wanted to simply stop existing. What point was there to living now?

I could hear voices coming from outside the room. It sounded like our neighbor Mrs. Briggs and her husband.

“We’re going to have make the arrangements,” I heard her say.

“I know, I know. But just the thought of sending those two young’ns so far isn’t appeasing,” her husband replied softly.

“I know David. We’ve known ‘em for so long; sometimes I think of them as my own daughters. I would give anythin’ to take ‘em in. You know that. But we simply don’t have the money,” she said.

“But an orphanage? What if they’s seperated? The grief and shock will kill ‘em!” her husband said.

“We will have ta tell those people that they must stay together. That’s all we can do,” I heard her reply. Then the voices got softer, as if they were moving away.

An orphanage? The nearest one was hundreds of miles away! What if we were seperated? I couldn’t live without Aaliyah too!

I finally gave in to my tears. My sobs wracked my body. Why? I thought. How can this be?

Categories: Fantasy Fiction.

Tags: , ,

Page 8 of 8« First...«45678