Random Story

3

March 4, 2012

Once, there was a loaf of bread. It was dropped in a city park. It lay there for many years, gazing up at the limitless sky. As the years passed, it morphed. It began to lengthen and widen, and black mold covered its surface. Then, two decades later, the bread turned into a successful, middle aged man. He became a lawyer, married, and had two children. They were named Spearmint and Evergreen.

One day, when the middle-aged lawyer was driving his Ford Taurus, Spearmint and Evergreen turned into peanut butter and got his seats dirty. So, he hired a cleaning person to fix the mess. Then, he realized his life’s calling was to move to the Arctic and become a stock trader. So he did, and he lived until the end of time.

The End

Categories: Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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In Praise of Selfishness by Hades

9

December 6, 2011

What are virtues? Hands shoot up across the classroom.

“Kindness.”

“Cleanliness.”

“Being thoughtful of others.”

“Being nice.”

And what are some vices? Again, hands rise like mushrooms after a heavy rain.

“Slovenliness. Wait, that’s a word, right?”

“Unkindness.”

“Rudeness.”

“Selfishness.”

I raise my hand.

“I disagree. Selfishness in not a vice. It’s a virtue.”

And the objections begin.

In our culture, the idea that selfishness is a vice is deeply ingrained in our collective psyche. Small children are reminded ‘not to be selfish’. When they are a little older, they learn the second half of this lesson: one ought to be selfless. I was taught this lesson by adults since before I could think. But today, I am going to question this creed. Today, I am going to be selfish.

It is generally undisputed that selflessness and altruism are good, and one ought to work for the benefit of society. Although all of these values are slightly different, they boil down to essentially the same idea: one’s individual needs and wants are not as important as the needs and wants of other people. This value is demonstrated frequently in modern culture.

One obvious example of the promotion of selflessness is modern day fictional heroes. For example, most superheroes, though motivated in part by a need for personal revenge, are fixated on saving people they have never met, usually at immense personal cost. Often, the hero will question their obsessive quest, but come to the conclusion that the greater good is more valuable than their individual needs. In real life, the individuals a society reveres are often those who are considered selfless. For example, firefighters, soldiers, doctors, and activists are often considered to be altruistic heroes.

Emphasis on selflessness and the insignificance of the individual is also found in Christianity, and other popular religions. In fact, Christianity’s most sacred individual, Jesus Christ, is worshiped in part because he ‘died for our sins’. In diverse religions, one is required to humble one’s self before god, exalting this powerful being while giving up one’s pride.

A potential counter example of this is Buddha. Although he was born into a royal family, he abandoned his responsibility to grow up to rule the kingdom, and his obligations to his family to pursue his goal of enlightenment. 1 His actions can be construed as selfish because he put his own personal quest before duty to other people.

Finally, social interactions place high value on people who are selfless. Those who are willing to sacrifice their individual wants to make the group happy are often well liked. This is especially true of those who ignore their need for solitude, privacy, and personal space.

Many of these examples of selflessness may seem purely good. After all, what could possibly be problematic about a personal philosophy that results in societal acceptance, as well as the positive feelings associated with doing nice things for others? Ultimately, the question is this: does one value societal acceptance over personal integrity? Most would argue that these options are not mutually exclusive. I, on the other hand, feel differently.

Contrary to what I have been taught, I believe that selflessness results in lack of self and lack of identity, while selfishness allows one to become independent, pursue one’s goals, and find true joy. When one is selfless, one is working for the happiness of others before one pursues one’s own goals. However, when one is working for the good of another selfless person, and that selfless person is working for your good, it is ultimately more efficient to put one’s own needs first. After all, you know better than anyone else what you need and want.

When I promote selfishness, I do not mean that one ought to work solely for one’s self at the intentional detriment of others. I merely suggest that one ought to pursue his or her goals, and seek that which brings him or her real happiness, not instant gratification. Essentially, I am talking about long term life goals, not hedonism. Whether this true joy comes from water color painting, or tinkering with car engines, one ought to do what makes him or her honestly happy. One would think that pursuing these goals with a passion would not result in societal rejection.

Although these cases are somewhat rare, there are examples of selfish heroes in literature. The best example of a selfish literary hero is Howard Roark, from Ayn Rand’s novel The Fountainhead 2. In this book, Rand discusses her philosophy on individuality, using Roark as the ultimate example of the independent man. Although I disagree with some points she makes, the novel is an excellent demonstration of the true meanings of selfishness and selflessness. Other literary examples of the selfish hero include Yossarian from Catch-22 3, and the title character of Jane Eyre 4.

In addition, many historical heroes epitomize selfishness. This is especially true of now famous artists. Vincent Van Gogh is an excellent example of a selfish figure from history. Although people disliked his paintings, he did not change his personal vision to better suit the popular style. Modifying his paintings to be more acceptable would have brought happiness to the people who saw them, and it would have financially improved his life. However, Van Gogh pursued his artistic goals. This quest ultimately resulted in his insanity and eventual suicide due to the social pressures working against him. 5

Interestingly, many times selfishness or selflessness is merely a matter of perspective. For example, great artists who sacrifice everything for their art can be seen in one of two lights: they are selfish because they pursue their own goals regardless of everyone else, or they are selfless because they give up their personal happiness to make incredible creations for humanity to enjoy.

There are immense social pressures exerted against those who are truly pursuing their own goals. Others will attempt to coerce, intimidate, or frighten them into conforming to social expectations of selflessness. If only they would compromise, just a little! If only they would tweak their artistic vision so that it would appeal to more people! However, the truly selfish will not sacrifice their personal integrity for anything. It is the driving force in their lives. Although the world frowns, those who are selfish will follow their own path.

I cannot promote selfishness as a way to write laws or govern a country. It is, instead, a way for an individual to live their life. It is the pursuit of personal goals, goals that truly matter, despite the disapproval of others. It is the unwillingness to settle for anything less than real, honest joy that comes from the actualization of one’s inner vision. Selfishness is the realization of the self.

In my class, I argued until the teacher cut us off. Perhaps there were one or two people who quietly agreed with me. Perhaps some people doubted, for a moment, the dogma of selflessness. Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I walked out of the classroom feeling warm inside. I walked out with dignity.

1. Rupert Gethin. (1998). The Foundations of Buddhism. Oxford University Press.

2. Rand, Ayn. (1943) The Fountainhead. Random House Inc.

3. Heller, Joseph. (1955) Catch-22. Random House Inc.

4. Bronte, Charlotte. (1847) Jane Eyre. Random House Inc.

5. Unknown. Unknown. Vincent van Gogh: Biography. Retrieved from http://www.vangoghgallery.com/misc/bio.html.

 

Categories: Creative Nonfiction, Must Reads, Nonfiction.

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Rune, the novel Chapter Eleven

4

June 28, 2011

Days passed, in which
Taren, Wheatweeve, Casey, and I all roamed further and further from Intisa. The
August air was dry, and bitingly hot. We ripped the sleeves of our garments in
order to keep from cooking inside our clothes. Casey grew increasingly bad
tempered, grumbling that it was too hot, that we ought to try to head to
another settlement, and that we were getting nowhere. I told him, equally
angry, that we had no clue how to get to any of the other settlements, and to
stop being such a whiner. Before I could lose my temper and punch every inch of
his body black and blue, Taren did.

“YOU COMPLETE *Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
WE ARE LUCKY TO BE ALIVE, THANKS TO SILAS, AND YOU STAND HERE
COMPLAINING ABOUT THE WHEATHER?!? YOU
HAVE BEEN OF ABSOLUTELY NO HELP
WHATSOEVER! JERK!!! BLGAHGOIVWJFYUUIHUHFUCKIGYIGYIHGHOIHV…”

*Reader- Note that I
have made some words unintelligible. This is because I don’t want to print
these foul (and often unintelligible) terms.

At this point,
Taren’s screams became completely incoherent, and she began punching every
single inch of Casey’s body. To my surprise, I found myself subduing her. “We have to stick together,” I whispered
to her as I dragged her away from Casey, who was now bleeding at both the lip
and the nose, “I know Casey’s an annoying
little shit, but he’s
part of our group.”

Taren nodded, still
glaring ferociously at Casey. I was also surprised to find that this
altercation didn’t make me happy that Taren didn’t like Casey anymore. The
latter was sitting on the dry grass, bleeding and sniffling.  I once again shocked myself by sitting down
beside him.

“Look Casey,” I said,
putting my arm uncertainly on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, “I know that we
don’t seem to be getting anywhere. But, look at us! We’re still alive! And
we’ve been out here for days! That’s certainly a feat that few have
accomplished!”

My words seemed to
cheer Casey, for he stopped crying and gave me a watery smile. I was just in
the act of returning the grin when Wheatweeve exclaimed, “Silas!”

I leapt up, grabbing
my sword as I went. I turned around to find that Wheatweeve and Taren were
standing, swords drawn, looking in fear at a group of twelve very grubby, very
dangerous looking men that had surrounded our camp. Bandits. These were people who had been exiled for murder, torture,
and other brutal crimes. I knew this because they had D, a tattoo given to dangerous criminals, tattooed on their biceps
and because they were carrying some very nasty looking knives and swords.

“Well, well, well,”
said the bandit furthest to the right. I took him to be the leader. “What have
we here? Poor, lost, little children by the looks of it. Ah, and I see that you
have some nasty swords. Nasty little children, then.”

The man was garbed in
a dark brown coat that reached his calves. He wore several rings on his
spider-like fingers, and had stubble that covered much of his chin and cheeks.
His hair was long and blonde, but dirty. And his cold, grey eyes sparkled with
cruel amusement. This man is going to
kill us, I thought, and nothing we do
is going to change that.

“So children,” the
man said, chuckling, “May I ask who the leader of this bold group of adventurers
is?”

My companions all
looked at me, so I said, as bravely as I could muster, “I am. And may I ask who
you are?”

At this point, the
entire group of bandits roared with laughter. “Kid,” said the leader, “You are
asking who I am? You’re in no
position to-NO!”

For Casey had roared
angrily at their laughter and swung his sword. It slashed cleanly through the
skin of one of the bandits’ stomachs. He crumpled to the ground, moaning as a
dark stain appeared on his dirty, green shirt. We didn’t wait for his group’s
reaction. We bolted through the opening Casey had created. I grabbed Casey’s
shirt and dragged him with me, because he was staring in horror at what he had
done. Wheatweeve and Taren had grabbed the packs, but they had to carry two
each, and they were slowing down. I sped up, Casey now running along with me,
and grabbed a pack from Wheatweeve. Casey snatched a pack from Taren, and we
sped up as a group. The bandits were hot in pursuit, and they were gaining. The
packs were still slowing us down.

“DROP THE PACKS!” I
screamed to my companions.

“ARE YOU CRAZY? THESE
HAVE ALL OUR FOOD IN THEM!!!” Wheatweeve yelled back.

“WE’LL BE PLANT
FOOD IF WE DON’T, WHEATWEEVE!” Taren told my sister, tossing her pack behind
her. It hit the bandit in the front, and he toppled backwards.

Wheatweeve chucked
her bag behind her as well, grinning as she heard a satisfying “AAARGH!” from
behind us.

Then there was
nothing. No ground beneath us. In our haste to escape the bandits, we had run
off a cliff. Genius, I thought
sarcastically to myself, pure god damn
genius. Then, we slammed into the densely packed foliage of the top of the
Greenblade forest.

You see, in less than
three weeks, we traveled a little under 100 miles. That is slow! We must have
been walking less than a ¼ mile every day! What were we, turtles? Of course, it
wasn’t like we were trying to go anywhere. Our main plan involved staying
alive.

Right. Back to the
story I’m supposed to be telling, in which we had just slammed into the
Greenblade forest.

I fell through
several branches, bruising myself up a bit on my way down, but landing fairly
gently on the ground, which was preferable to the alternative of being
splattered all the way up a tree.

I looked around. It
seemed like all of my friends were okay, so I dared to turn my eyes to the top
of the cliff. All of the bandits, except for their leader, were looking at the
place where we had fallen. The leader was looking right into my eyes and,
even-though there were trees obscuring me from his view. I could swear he saw
me. Apparently, he had, because he mouthed, I’m
going to kill you plain as day.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Dungeon prologue

5

May 25, 2011

The darkness is overwhelming. But what is worse is the silence. The lack of noise. Of emotion. Of anything. I am totally alone, without the comfort of even someone’s tortured scream. It has been days since the guard came down to feed me. As for water, I am forced to drink my own urine. It is pain, to be locked in a dungeon because you are different, not because you have committed a crime.

At last, a noise. A skittering, scuttling noise that would cause the flesh of any normal being to break out in goose-bumps. I laugh at it. It is a relief to know that there is something in this stone prison besides myself.

I am lying on the floor, my face pressed against the lukewarm rock. Something furry brushes my face. Its slightly scaly tail slides across my cheek. A rat. I have grown to love the rats in the dungeon, and I believe the feeling is mutual. I once heard that rats show affection by licking, as dogs do. I feel this rat’s tiny tongue upon my cheek for a heartbeat of a second. Now, my furry companion curls up near my neck. I reach my hand up and stroke it. Now, many more rats are climbing over me, like a warm (albeit slightly dirty) blanket. Many of them nestle near my neck as the first did, but the majority of them are curled in my large, leathery, batlike wings.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune: the novel, Chapter Ten

1

March 2, 2011

Long grass whispered around our legs. It was nearly dawn, and a pale glow was beginning to creep over the horizon. We had been walking near Intisa’s wall for several hours. Wheatweeve had decided that it would be best if we stayed close to the colony, where Nightmares ventured less frequently. We had enough food to last us for up to two months, once again thanks to my amazing sister.

The minutes dragged on. I thought about my mother, and if she was awake yet. In her stupor, would she still notice that both her son and her daughter were gone?

 Taren and Casey stuck close together, but Taren would not return the arm Casey put around her shoulder. When I saw Casey’s arm slung around her shoulder, I could hardly contain my rage. I cursed several of the foulest words that have ever darkened the face of this planet (and, for that matter, probably any other as well) and resumed pacing.

At five o’clock, the morning went from infuriating to terrifying. Taren had extricated herself from Casey’s nefarious clutches when we heard it. Whoosh! At first we thought it was the wind. Then we realized that there was no breeze. What then, was making that noise?

Whoooosh! The sound was louder now, closer. The noise was beginning to frighten me now. I looked at the hills, and my fear turned to terror. Nightmares were swarming over the hills once again. The black smoke tore through the grass at breakneck speed. They were just as horrible as when they had fed on Douglas.

The others stood, paralyzed with fear. No help, I thought, angrily. It was up to me.

“Everyone, follow me!” I screamed at my companions. The nightmares were hurtling towards us. A few more seconds, and we would be fed on. “RUN!!!” I enforced, beginning to dash towards the gates myself. Taren, Wheatweeve, and Casey all raced after me, dropping their swords in order to lighten their load. I did the same, tossing my weapon aside and diving under the arch in front of the gate. No sooner had my companions joined me than the nightmares arrived. For one horrifying moment, I thought my plan had failed. But then the nightmares hit Mage’s protection that was in front of Intisa’s wall, and disintegrated.

We lay before the gate, panting. Taren lay slumped on the ground, and, for a split second, I thought she had been fed on. But then I saw her chest heaving, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Casey and Wheatweeve lay in similar condition. I was no better, lying on my stomach, my feet uncomfortably wedged into the gate.

“Oi, outcasts!”

It was the guard captain standing behind the gate. He looked much braver now that there were metal bars and a thick wall in between us.

“If I see you four within fourty miles of here again, I’ll get the guards to chuck you to the nightmares!”

So, exhuasted, and still panting, we picked up our swords and set out to the west.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune, the novel: Chapter Nine

5

February 24, 2011

The morning came all too quickly. After my speech, Leader had decided that it would be better if I was locked up for the rest of the day. I had been moved to Casey’s cell, and Casey, to my annoyance, had been moved in with Taren.

Throughout my last night in Intisa, I lay awake. The day’s events played themselves over in my head. I had undermined Leader’s athority, I had seen myself on a wanted poster, and I had spoken to the entire colony. Whoa. So much had happened in that day, it was a shock when I realized that I was about to be exiled.

The guards woke Taren, Casey, and I at three o’clock in the morning. We were greeted by”Rise and shine convicts!” before being dragged from our cells. I was shackled in between Taren and Casey, and I was glad to see that the two weren’t exchanging lovey dovey looks anymore. Being dragged out of a prison cell at three in the morning can work wonders. My spirits were relatively high until we reached the gate, which brought me back to our dire situation.

The guards unshackled us, but kept their swords pointed towards us. I found this fairly ridiculous.  They were five heavily armed, hugely muscular men, worrying that they would be overpowered by three pre-teens of average strength with no weapons. I allowed myself an inward chuckle.

A sixth guard began to open the gate. I thought about the certain death that was past that gate. I thought about the family I would be leaving behind.

“WAIT!!!” screamed a voice from behind us.

I spun around. Wheatweeve was standing there, holding a wicked looking set of four swords and looking like she was ready to kill somebody.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER YOU’RE SENDING TO DEATH!” Wheatweeve roared, so loudly that the guards flinched. “SO UNLESS YOU ALL WANT TO LOSE YOUR HEADS, YOU’RE GONNA LET ME GO WITH HIM!”

The guards nodded vigorously, mumbling, “Of course ma’am” and “No problem”. Wheatweeve came to stand beside me.

“Why do you want to come with us?” I whispered. “And where did you get those swords?”

“As for your first question,” Wheatweeve responded, “I can’t just let my dumb younger brother go out to be killed by himself. As for your second, I stole these swords from the armory. Smashed the window to get in.” At this point, my annoying, mean, obnoxious, amazing older sister grinned. I couldn’t help but smiling too. It had taken me getting exiled, but Wheatweeve and I were finally getting along.

“Does Mom know where you are?” I asked.

The grin faded from my sister’s face. “No. She’s in some kind of shock. Been that way since she saw you in the prison. I sent her over to see Mage. Speaking of whom,” Wheatweeve pulled an amulet from a rucksack slung over her shoulder, “he told me to give you this. Said it will help.”

Reluctantly, I took the gift. I still blamed Mage above all others for Whetstone’s death, but I needed all the help I could get. I clipped the amulet around my neck. The stone on it was sapphire ringed with gold. The metal felt warm against my chest.

“Cool,” I said to Wheatweeve, “Thanks.”

“Okay you…you rats,” the guard captain said shakily, “You get out of the colony.”  He saw the looks on our faces and our raised swords. “Please?” he added hopefully.

We would have resisted, but just then, more guards arrived, and we had no choice but to exit our home. The gate clanged shut behind us, sealing our foursome from our home.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune :Part Two: Chapter Eight

7

January 25, 2011

The crowd stared at me, dumbfounded. A prisoner?!? Speak against Leader?!? It was unheard of.

A guard unchained me and shoved me to the podium. Leader glared at me and stepped back. I gulped. What was I going to say? What was I thinking? My brains found no words, but evidently my mouth did.

“When I was nine,” I began, my voice rang out,  incredibly loud, “My brother was killed by nightmares. Mage gave him a sword that could supposedly kill nightmares.” I saw Mage in the back of the crowd. His bald head gleamed in the morning sunlight. From within the wrinkles that comprised his  face shone his misty green eyes. Somehow, those blind eyes seemed to watch me more intently than all of the functioning ones that also gazed at me.

“The sword didn’t work,” I pressed on, “Whetstone was fed on by the nightmares. After that, the tribunal stopped trying to defeat the nightmares. But, I continued! I, a nine year old boy, continued trying to defeat the nightmares!”

Leader looked like he was ready to bite my head off. He probably would have too, but that would have looked bad in front of a crowd.

“‘Why?’, you might ask. Why did you keep trying, when the attempt to kill the nightmares killed your brother?”  The crowd was hanging on my every word now. “IT IS BECUASE MY BROTHER DIED THAT I CONTINUE TO FIGHT!” I was yelling now, and no one would have dared stop me, “AND IT IS BECAUSE DOUGLAS’S FATHER DIED THAT HE FOUGHT TOO! WE ARE CHILDREN, YET WE ARE THE ONLY ONES TRYING TO FIGHT AGAINST THE CREATURES THAT THREATEN OUR EXISTENCE! AND, EVEN IF YOU DO EXILE ME, I INTEND TO KEEP FIGHTING! I WILL FIGHT UNTIL VICTORY IS OURS, OR UNTIL I DROP DEAD!!!”

The crowd went berserk. They screamed and clapped, they hooted and hollered, they did everything they could to show their appreciation for me. Leader whispered an order to a guard, who began dragging me away from the podium. But, I had one more thing to say.

“YOU MAY TAKE WHAT IS MINE, LEADER! BUT, I WILL NEVER LET THE NIGHTMARES TAKE WHAT IS INTISA’S!”

Then, the guard chained me to Taren, and we were ushered back to the dungeon, amidst the cheers of the crowd.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune, the novel: Chapter Seven

1

January 14, 2011

The next day was the day before Taren and I would be exiled, and it held a surprise for us. The guard came into our cell block. “You two,” he said to us, “And you, next door.  Leader wants you three to come out to the square. He said that he wants you to see something that will be ‘good for you’.”

We were ushered out of our cells and out of the cell block. The person next door turned out to be a curly haired boy. I assumed that he was probably the boy who had gone over the wall with Taren. He had very tan skin, a prominent chin, black hair that fell in thick curls, and electric blue eyes. Numerous cuts adorned his arms. Apparently, he hadn’t gone over the wall and come back unscathed.

By observing their behaviour, I discovered that there was probably a little more between this boy and Taren than just being friends. They looked into eachothers’ eyes often, then smiling, half laughing, and looking in the other direction. These little glances were making me inexplicably irritated. It was like I wasn’t there, being shoved roughly alongside Taren.

To my relief, we soon reached the square. Leader was standing on a podium near the fountain, his grey hair shining in the early light. Taren saw something and gasped, squeezing my arm, hard. “What?” I inquired, though I wasn’t exactly frustrated about that squeeze.

“That,” she replied, pointing. On a signpost near the fountain, there were two posters. One had Taren and the curly haired moron’s- I mean boy’s- faces on them. Under each face was a name.

Taren Willow                    and                      Casey Johnson

To Be Exiled For Wall Jumping and Third Degree Murder

On another signpost was a poster with my face on it.

Silas Harrif 

To Be Exiled For Wall Jumping, Treason, And Third Degree Murder

“I’ll bet they just tacked on treason to make me look worse!” I whispered furiously. 

The guard said, “SHUT IT, CONVICT!” very loudly, and shoved Taren, Jerk-face- I mean- Casey, and I up on the podium behind Leader. Another guard shackled us together insuring that, as he put it, “THERE WON’T BE NO FUNNY BUSINESS!”

I ’started to notice’ that the guards seemed to like to shout. I was about to say something witty like, ‘My, aren’t you polite!’ but Leader began to speak to the crowd.

“People!” he said in a loud, resounding voice, “We are gathered here today, not only to speak about the loss of my nephew, Douglas, but also to speak about a issue which has been creeping into Intisa like a plague of locusts. I’M TALKING ABOUT WALL JUMPING!”

 At this, the entire crowd gasped. Taren and Casey scooted a little bit closer together.

“If there’s anybody here, people,  ANYBODY HERE WHO WANTS TO TALK OUT AGAINST ME, I WILL HERE THEM. BUT FIRST, I CHALLENGE THEM THIS! I CHALLENGE THEM TO ASK THEMSELVES, WHY? WHY DO I SPEAK OUT WHEN THESE CRIMINALS BEHIND ME,” he gestured to us, “COULD BE TARGETING YOUR CHILD NEXT! YOUR CHILD COULD BE THE NEXT ONE TAKEN OVER THE WALL TO BE FED ON BY THE NIGHTMARES! So,” he said, calming down, “If there’s anybody here who wants to speak against me, do so now.”

No one spoke. Taren and Casey were holding onto eachother, terrified of Leader. The crowd was deathly still.

“I will.” I said as loudly as I could, “I will speak against you.”

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune: the novel, chapter five

3

December 15, 2010

“You there!”

The guard’s voice jolts me from my muesings. For the past hour, I had been sitting on the wall, drinking in the horrible truth. Douglas was dead. He had gone down fighting, yes, but still, dead. My resolve to kill nightmares had become more prominent than ever. These beasts had taken my father, my brother, and now my best friend. But, all of these thoughts vanished when I saw the guard. The truth was devilishly simple. It was against the laws of  Intisa to go past the wall after dark. I was an outlaw.

And then, another painful fact hit me like a boulder from a rockslide. Douglas’s uncle was on the tribunal. And his nephew had been fed on because of me.

Terrified, I tried to run. My legs were windmills, spinning full throttle. But, I wasn’t fast enough. One of the guards threw a stun charm at me. Curse Mage,I thought as electricity crackled up my spine, He killed my brother with by giving him that dud of a sword. Now his damn invention has gotten me arrested.

~*~

I woke up in a dank, cold room. The smell of mildew crept into my lungs, making me gag. My body ached all over. I tried to swear under my breath, but no words came out. Of course. Mage’s charm had side effects. With a stupendous effort, I lifted my head off the itchy pillow it lay on, I wanted confirmation that I was where I thought I was.

 Grey walls loomed all around me, and steel bars surrounded me. I can’t believe it. I’m in one of the high security vaults.

Someone else was in the cell. A girl, sitting on a cot, gazing at me intently. She had brown hair and brown eyes, and she was wearing a tattered looking grey dress. Her ears were slightly pointed, and her skin was a lightish tan. But, what really intrigued me about this girl was her expression. She was smiling. It was unbelievable! This girl was in a prison cell, for god’s sake! Why was she smiling?

Not that I was complaining about that smile, for it was the most beautiful I had ever seen, and it was directed at me.

 ”Hi.”

Hi?!? I was talking to the most beautiful girl in the world, and all I could say was ‘hi’?

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to care.

“Hi,” she responded. “I don’t get much company down here. Especially famous company.”

“Famous?” I asked.

“Oh, I forgot. You’ve been out for the past ten hours. Your the talk of the entire colony! You went across the wall with-”

“Yeah,” I said, “With Douglas.”

There was silence for a moment. At last, the girl spoke again.

“Sorry.” She sounded like she meant it. “Sore subject. By the way, I’m Taren. Taren Willow.”

I would have kept talking to Taren Willow, but at that moment, a guard walked in.

“Alright, pretty boy,” he said, “It’s time to drag your butt to the tribunal.”

~*~

 I was shoved roughly into a chair. Famous? More like infamous.

Douglas’s uncle glowered down at me. Beside him sat two other people: a muscular black man, and a pencil thin old woman.

“This trial is now in sesion,” boomed Douglas’s uncle, Leader, “Silas Harrif, twelve years old, as of today?”

“Yes,” I responded.

“You are accused of wall-jumping and third degree murder. How plead you?”

I thought about my answer. I could say no and be discovered as a liar, or I could say yes and face the consequences. Pfft! So much for choices.

“Guilty.”

The crowd, who I hadn’t noticed before, gasped. I looked at them. My mother and sister were in the front row. Mother’s eyes were red from crying. Wheatweave was trying to hold back tears.

“Silence!” shouted the black man. “The tribunal must now decide on the punishment of said induvidual!”

The crowd went silent as the tribunal whispered. At last, Leader spoke.

“All in favor of public service say ‘I”.”

“I!” said the black man.

“All in favor of exile, coming into effect in three days, say “I’!”

“I!” Leader and the old woman chorused.

I hung my head. Exile is the same thing as execution. No one survives past the wall for long. Not with the nightmares out there.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune: the novel, Chapter Four

3

October 30, 2010

 At last, it was 11:50. I was relieved, because all night I had been thinking about Wheetweeve’s words. Mother needed a son. Instead, she got a fanatic. Over and over these words played themselves in my mind.

I crept out of the house, shutting the door as quietly as I could. I sprinted along the cobbled path that led to the statue of Leonard Bernstein. All of the lights were out in the houses. Good, I thought, no distractions. Then, distractions came flooding into my mind like a tidal wave.

I began to think about Mother, and how I hadn’t called her that in almost three years. I thought of Wheatweeve, and how I hadn’t talked to her unless I had to ever! And then, I thought about someone I hadn’t thought about since I was nine. I thought about myself. I watched myself sit in the wheat field on the day my brother was fedon. I saw Whetstone show me the Dreamblade, then walk through the gate. I viewed the Nightmares swarming around him. I watched as his sword did no good. I saw my nine-year-old self scream as Whetstone was cloaked in darkness. I remembered howling like a wounded animal as my brother’s body fell to the ground, soul gone.

I arrived ten minutes late. Douglas was pacing around, looking anxious. When he saw me, he ran to my side and whispered, “Where were you?!? You’re ten minutes late!”

“Sorry, I responded, Got held up. Listen, do you think this is a good idea? I mean, we could be fed on!”

“It’s a great idea! C’mon, let’s do it!”

We clambered up the guards’ ladders. Douglas carried the rucksack. I carried the rope. Slowly, we climbed nearer and nearer to the top. All the while, the two sides of my brain were locked in a battle of wits. Don’t go, said the reasonable side, One of you is going to be fed on!

Go ahead! said the other side, This is what you’ve been waiting for! A chance to stick it to the Nightmares!

What about Douglas?said my conscience, Do you want him to get fed on?!?

He’ll be fine, crooned my ego, He wants to go, remember!

By the time Douglas and I reached the top of the wall, my ego had won the brain battle. I was convinced that the plan would see us through. However, all went wrong within seconds.

I tied one end of the rope to a battlement on the wall, throwing the other into the darkness on the other side. “I’ll go first,” I said confidently. Douglas nodded. Carefully, I swung myself onto the rope. I swung side to side, but the strands of fiber held firm, keeping me from falling and injuring myself. Sighing with relief, I began to shimmey down the rope.

In a matter of minutes, I reached the bottom. “IT’S OK!,” I shouted up to Douglas, “YOU CAN COME DOWN NOW!”

Douglas was about half way down the rope when his hands slipped. He flew away from the wall, and landed with a sickening THUD! in the wheat field. “DOUGLAS!” I screamed, and ran to find my fallen friend.

“I’m al-OUCH-right,” said Douglas, who, despite his words, did not sound in the least bit alright.I found my friend lying on one side in the wheat. His leg was twisted at such an odd angle, it had to be broken. “Oh man,” I said, noticing how crooked Douglas’s broken leg was, “Man, I’m so sorry.”

“No-OUCH-problem. Let’s just get out of-oh gods NO!” my friend screamed.

I looked. Gliding over the hills were nightmares in all of the hideous forms they could take. Skeletons danced, werewolves howled, but, most of all, there was just the dark mist that nightmares became when they wished to move fast. The moment when I would face the nightmares had arrived and I was totally unprepared.

I tried to drag Douglas at first. But, he was too heavy. He outweighed me by several pounds. I tried toget him to stand. He managed to raise himself a couple of inches off the ground before falling back down.

I tried to think of a solution. Nothing came to mind. Then, Douglas said something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. “Go,” he said, “If you try to save me, we’ll both be fed on.”

“No way. No way I’m leaving you to die,” I said.

“There’s no other way,” my good, faithful, and only friend Douglas said.

Then, he used his last bit of strength to turn and face the wave of nightmares. “BRING IT!!!” were the last words I heard Douglas say before I was forced to turn and climb up the rope. By the time I reached the top of the wall, and turned to see what had become of Douglas, it was too late. The nightmares had enveloped him.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. I was beyond grief. I had no more friends. I was useless. And, worst of all, Wheatweeve had been right. I wasn’t a good son. I wasn’t even a good friend. I was just a revenge obsessed fanatic. And now, I didn’t even have douglas to confide in. I just sat on that wall, dreading the dawn.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune: the novel, Chapter Three

2

October 28, 2010

Night, we had decided, was the perfect time to carry out our plan. The guards would have gone home, leaving the protective enchantments to sheild Intisa from the Nightmares. The enchantments kept the Nightmares out, but they didn’t keep people in. Douglas and I would meet at the statue of Leonard Bernson, Intisa’s first mayor at midnight, then climb up the ladders onto the wall. We would use rope to help us climb back down into the wheat field. I knew that today was my turn to to go to Market to get eggs, and I began to form a plan.

After my encounter with Douglas that morning, I returned home. I was very polite to Wheatweeve, and even called Silk ‘Mother’.

“What has gotten into you young man?” she asked, “Are you up to something?”

“No Mother,” I responded.

Silk went back to the kitchen, eyes brimming with tears. “Mother,” she whispered to herself,”My boy’s finally calling me Mother.” I glared at her when she turned her back. You killed Whetstone, I thought, You all killed Whetstone.

Wheatweeve was annoyed. “But,” she complained, “You’re supposed to be brooding and rude! Now you’re….Nice! Where’s the fun in THAT?!?”

I just smiled politly at her.

A couple of minutes later, Silk asked me to run to Market and get some eggs. She gave me enough newly sewn garments to trade for something for myself. I thanked her and ran off to Market.

I bought the eggs, as promised. Then, I went over to Twinemaster. He was selling thread, fishing line, and most importantly, rope.

“I’ve got a nice, warm shirt and some wollen, your size, that I’m willing to trade for ten feet of rope,” I said.

Twinemaster raised his eyebrows. “Ten feet?” the burly man said, “That’s a lot of rope yer gettin’ there. What’re ya plannin’ on usin’ so much fer?”

“An experiment,” I said, ” Me and my friend are trying to measure the height of his house.”

“Fine then,” grunted Twinemaster, “Do whatcha want to do.”

He handed me ten feet of sturdy looking rope. I thanked him, put it in my rucksack, and began walking towards home.

“Boys these days,” I heard Twinemaster grumble, “Doing experiments and suchn’t. In my day, we solved problems with our fists not with our blasted brains!”

~*~

I gave the eggs to Silk when I got home. When she asked what I had gotten for myself, I told her that I had bought a wooden sword. “He’s finally acting like a child,” Silk said as I walked up the stairs, “He’s finally having fun.”

An hour passed. I continued my goody-two shoes act, trying to please both Silk and Wheeteweeve. At one point, I almost gave myself away. I was packing my rucksack with the essentials Douglas and I would need for the night. As I was stuffing a long, sharp knife in, Wheetweeve opened my bedroom door.n I barely had time to shove the dagger in and close my rucksack.

“What is it?” I asked her.

Wheetweeve scowled. “You know exactly  what it is, Mr. ‘I’m-so-perfect’. I know you’re up to something! I will find out!”

“I’m not up to anything.”

“Really?!? Then, say that it wasn’t Mother’s falt that Whetstone died!”

I almost shouted then. I wanted to scream in her face, say “IT WAS HER FALT! IT WAS BOTH YOUR FALTS!” Instead I said, as calmly I could, “It wasn’t Mother’s falt that W-Whetstone died.”

My voice wavered a little bit when I said my brother’s name. But, Wheatweeve didn’t notice. “FINE,” she said, “Maybe you have gotten over his death. But, I still don’t forgive you for all these years you’ve been moping. Mother needed a son after Whetstone died. Instead, she got a FANATIC!”

Then, she stormed out of the room, leaving me shaken and, to my own surprise, weeping.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune:the novel Chapter Two

5

October 28, 2010

“Hello Mr. Jordon! Stopping by for some light reading?” joked Librarian. This had been a running joke for ever since my brother was fed on. It had happened by accident. After I had seen Whetstone step towards the three nightmares, try to kill them, and fail, I went straight to the library, desperate for knowlage that would help me kill the nightmares. ‘In for some light reading?’ Librarian had asked.

“Yes, of course I am,” I replied.

I went to my usual corner of the library and began searching for books. All of the volumes I had already read were there, as well as a new title. It was a book called, Nightmares; Everything We Know, by Reedy Melspike. I gasped. An author without a true name! Why, this book must be from the East, from the city of Gadorous! Maybe they know things there that we don’t!

I left the library disappointed. More of the same. Nightmares can’t be killed. Don’t waste your life. I refused to believe it. There has to be a way to kill nightmares, I thoght, Has to be!

“SILAS! HEY!”

I turned to see my friend Douglas running towards me. He had black, bristly hair, was short and squat, and had arms that spun like a windmill when he ran. His dark skin seemed even darker today, for clouds swirled ominously in the sky.

“Hey…Silas,” my friend panted, “I…get…my true…name tomorrow. They hinted that…it might…be Harvester! All because my dad was a baker! It sucks!”

“Well,” I said, “the only way you’ll get a couragous true name is if you do something heroic.”

“Like what?”

“You know old Mrs. Jackson?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Douglas replied.

“Well, some idiots took her broach and threw it way out into the wheat field beyond the wall.”

“So you mean…” Douglas said, in awe.

“Yes. I mean we go past the boundaries to get it.”

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune:the novel: Part One: Chapter One

3

September 29, 2010

Chapter One

“Silas! Get up!” called my sister, Wheatweeve.

I didn’t respond. I had been awake for hours, though neither she nor mother knew it. I had been, as I had been for every day since Whetstone was fed on, researching the nightmares. I had borrowed several heavy volumes from Librarian. The one I was currently reading was called Shadowy Beasts and How to Slay Them. It was more of the same. The section an nightmares said:

Nightmares are the darkest of demons. They are unfixed manifestations, impossible to kill. Those who plan to slay them shouldn’t waste their lives. There is no chance of survival.

Nonsense, I thought, if Whetstone thought there was a way to kill them, there is a way to kill them.

“SILAS! GET UP!!!” screamed Wheatweeve.

“Allright! I’m coming!” I bellowed, equally as loud.

Twenty minutes passed, and I was still in my room. Reading. Trying to find a way to end the constant threat. To my world. To my family.

~*~

After another five minutes, and no more luck than the last two years, I came downstairs. A hot bowl of porridge sat steaming on the table. Another thing that seemed to be steaming in the kitchen was Wheatweeve. Sixteen and allready controling the family kitchen, she looked down at me, glowering.

“Well,” she said in her ‘I’m in charge and you are going to do what I say’ voice, “Why were you upstairs so long?”

“None of your business.”

“Now,” reprimanded Wheatweeve, “Is that anyway for someone who’s about to get their true name to act? For goodness sakes. Your twelfth birthday is in three days. Act like it!”

“Where’s Silk?” I asked.

“At the market. And why won’t you start calling her mother?”

“Because she was the one who agreed to let Whetstone go to Mage and get the sword,” I told her for the thousandth time.

Wheatweeve sighed and went to clean the dishes. I sat down at the breakfast table and at the porridge, Then, I left our house and set off for the library.

 

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune: the novel

2

September 29, 2010

Prologue

A whisper of wind, blowing through the wheat. A fence. A black cloud of nightmares. An ordinary day in the colony of Intisa.

I lay in the wheat field, gazing up at the endless grey of the sky. Something had to be done about these otherworldly beasts. Yet, nothing could be done. They were indistructible.

“Little brother,” said a voice behind me, and I sat up and looked around.

Whetstone was standing behind me, smiling his broad smile. He was six feet tall, with huge muscles and a kindly face. Someday I hoped to look like him. But for now, I was a gangly nine year old with stringy brown hair. But, it was the thing Whetstone was holding that shocked me. It was a blue, glowing sword.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Why, this is a dreamblade Silas. It’s supposed to kill nightmares. Mage made it.”

“Wow! Have you tried it yet?” I exclaimed.

“That’s what I’m about to do. Wish me luck!” Whetstone responded.

“Good luck!”

That was the last time I ever saw my older brother alive.

 

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Must Reads.

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Cathedral by Skullduggery

2

September 7, 2010

Thousands of years passed, swirling around me like a mist. Yet I was nigh on oblivious to the passage of time. I was a dream creature, and I loved my new life. I made dreams, I entered dreams, and I battled nightmares. This was truly what I wanted most. I was living my dream. Literally. But, at times it was not fun, nor was it easy. Once, I had to battle a creature so powerful it could almost be called a god. This is the story.

I was drifting through the blue mist of subconscious thought that connects dreams, enjoying the ride. I loved the warm, tingling sensation that the thoughts gave my form. My purple, transparent arms were propping my head up. I was so content. I’m invincible, I thought, I cannot die. I am Rune.

Then, I noticed something odd. One of the dreamgates was not its usual blue, but red. I had to investigate. I passed through the shimmering light and into a dream.

As always, I returned to a human form in the dream. It comforts the dreamer. Makes me seem more relatable. I sent part of my consciousness to patrol the dreamweb. The rest remained in this dream, in the form of a warrior with a blue broadsword and a huge shield.

 I scanned my surroundings. I was in an ancient city, with crumbling buildings and a huge cathedral in the distance. The sky was bright blue, with a blazing sun in the sky. Something in my mind told me that I wouldn’t find anything in the city. I had to go to the cathedral.

As I walked through the seemingly deserted city, I sensed movement. Some creature darted between two buildings. It moved so fast, I didn’t get a chance to see what it was. All that I saw was that it was grey. A grey blur, nothing more. I moved into the deserted square where I had sensed the thing. I needed to know what it was.

Immediately, I was attacked. From all four sides came hideously deformed creatures. They might have been human once, but now they were just featureless, wrinkled, grey skin. No eyes, ears, nothing. They moved like the wind, hitting me so hard and so fast I barely had time to think. I knew I could no longer be this bulky warrior. I changed into a man with black sun glasses, a trench coat, and black hair. He had been in someone’s dream. In the dream, he moved so fast that you could barely see him. I became that man then. I became the one known as Neo.

Neo (or should I say I) flipped, kicked, and punched, keeping pace with the beasts. My arms hit their heads, going through them as if they weren’t there. No blood spilled, and they began to reform as soon as I had felled them. As I watched the creatures reform, I realized that these things were made of clay!

Clay! What hardens clay? Heat! I morphed again. I became a huge ball of flame. My heat hardened the ghastly creations at once. But, I didn’t have time to admire my handiwork. I changed form again. I became a runner, sprinting towards the cathedral. Something told me that the clock was ticking.

As soon as I reached the cathedral, I once again changed. I became Spider-Man and crawled up the wall of the cathedral. I noticed that there were no windows. Odd. Cathedrals almost always had windows in dreams. I shot a web to an inside wall and swung in. This was easy, because this character appeared in many dreams, especially those of young boys.

When I landed in the cathedral, I immediately noticed a problem. The dreamer was a magician. And, by the sound of the incantation, they were a necromancer. They were doing a dream summons, which meant that whatever they were calling on was extremely old, and extremely powerful.

I became a mouse and skittered up to the altar, where the magician stood. They were a woman, with black hair and black robes. Her eyes were closed, and she was saying, “Come Niktare, creature of the dark. Come to me, take the dreamweb. Nightmares to roam free again, one called Rune disposed of.”

I shuddered. This necromancer was summoning Niktare, the dark god from exile to destroy me and free the nightmares. I called on the rest of my consciousness that had been patrolling the dreamweb. I would need all of the strength I could get if I had to face Niktare. Morphing into the warrior I had been earlier, I spun around.

And was slammed into the far wall. I came up thinking fast… But not fast enough. A fist the size of one of the pews hit me. I flew back towards the wall, but this time I was ready. I kicked off the wall and rolled, morphing as I went. I was Neo, I was Spider-Man, I was a ninja, anything and everything I had ever been, desperate to confuse the dark god. The blows ceased. I got to my feet, once again as the warrior and got my first good look at Niktare.

He was 12 feet tall, in a humanoid form. His muscles were like boulders. His skin was black as midnight and he had two, glowing blue eyes. He wore a black cloak that covered most of his face.

“So,” he said in a voice like a rockslide, “You are Rune. Pathetic. You won’t even be amusing to crush. Ah well. If I must kill you to rise again, I will. Goodbye little spirit.”

Then, he morphed. He looked like a nightmare. Cloaked with blue eyes. But, his aura glowed like black flame. He shot fire at me. I ducked. He sent bands of shadow towards me. I glowed. Niktare laughed. “Goodnight,” he said, and the dream went pitch black.

Niktare had killed the light. I couldn’t see a thing, then- WHAM! He hit me. I flew back through the wall, outside. I could tell I was not in the cathedral because of the air. It had changed. Quickly, I morphed into an angel. I held a golden sword that glowed.

Niktare came flying at me. He now looked like one of the clay creatures, only black. As he reached for me, I swung my sword. It sliced through him, splitting him in half. Niktare fell to the ground. The light returned. I thought I had won. I was wrong.

Niktare turned to smoke. He began to fly away. Why? He could beat me, surely. My answer came quickly. The dreamgate! Niktare was going to poison the dreamweb!

I was a rocket, speeding towards the smoke that had almost reached the dreamgate. Too slow. Niktare floated into the dreamweb. I had to follow.

In the dreamweb, chaos had already broke loose. Some of the blue mist of subconscious thought had caught flame. This would case the innocent dreamers to go mad. I flew towards the malevolent flames. That was where Niktare was. I was sure.

I reached the fire. Heat seared my essence. But, I didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Niktare. And, sure enough, a black garbed figure was floating amidst the flame. He was laughing, enjoying the madness that would come from this. ENJOYING IT! I couldn’t take it. Concentrating all of my hatred into one concentrated burst of magic, I slammed Niktare out of the dreamweb. His laughter changed to a scream as he plummeted into the unknown, dragging me along with him.

The End

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 10: More and More Trouble

6

August 28, 2010

Wow, I think this is one of my longest chapters! Correct me if I’m wrong. Hope its good, its also one of my favorites!

Mark arrived back from the crash site looking very forlorn. Grace quickly rushed up to him to find out what was wrong. When he told her, she also took on a long face.

“Kzereck will know nearly exactly where we are!” she began. “We’ll have to move, now. Maybe we can rescue Michal and Alexander while the soldiers are out looking for us.”

“I hate to say it, we are nowhere near ready, but I agree. We’ve got to leave as soon as possible. Luckily, it will take the man more than a day to reach the castle, so I think we can manage to rest tonight and set out in the morning.”

“I think that’s all we can do, we desperately need rest. We wouldn’t be of much help to the others if we can’t stay awake long enough to fight off one soldier. But we’ll need to dump some supplies; we can’t carry all of this to the castle and back on our own. We’ll retrieve it once we have Michal and Alexander safe with us.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Mark agreed. “For now, we can use all the supplies that will go bad in a few days. It’ll be no use to save it.”

After they had hidden the rest of the food store, Michal cooked dinner, using the supplies Mark had suggested. Mark quickly tried to hide the traces and they slept concealed by the undergrowth – they could not risk being found when they were so close to rescuing their siblings. Perhaps only hours away.

* * *

When Michal finally came through the door into the main chamber, she saw not only Kzereck, but also another boy. At first she thought it was Mark, he was of the same age. She was just about to call out to him when she looked closer. She sighed with relief when she realized that it wasn’t her brother. But the relief was short-lived, as she recognized who the boy was. He was Kzereck’s son, Jeatoe. Every once in a while she and her family had seen him around the castle, but they had only been introduced, if one could call it that, once. Last year, he had come after Kzereck’s wife had died. Michal had not been supposed to know, but she had overheard some servants talking about it one night. Even though she didn’t know him, she had a strong feeling that he would be bad news. It seemed Kzereck had been in the middle of saying something, but she had come in while he was speaking. For the smallest moment, Kzereck seemed annoyed, but he quickly regained his composure and resumed looking like the evil villain that he was.

“Hello, we were just talking about you.” He grinned evilly.

“Really? Shouldn’t you be talking about my brother instead of me, since he is the one who escaped from you?” she smirked. Jeatoe couldn’t help but smile, but as his father turned towards him he suddenly found it easier.

“Hmm, charming,” said Kzereck, visibly annoyed “But by you, I meant your family, as in your brother. I was just about to put Jeatoe here in charge of locating him.”

For a moment, the two young people stood equally shocked. Then Michal slowly turned and stared at Jeatoe, eyes burning. She hadn’t thought he was half bad before, but now that he’d be hunting down her brother, she hated him. Finally, he too broke out of his shock and spoke.

“ . . . Are you sure, father?” he asked, confused.

“Of course.”

“But, I’ve never done anything like it before, . . . and this is a very important mission, . . . and –”

                “Of course, don’t be foolish. You must learn sometime, and everyone learns best under pressure.”

                Michal, of course, was thinking about how arrogant Kzereck was, that he would force someone who had never done anything vaguely military-related to catch a very important prisoner, one they could not afford to lose. Naturally, she said nothing about this.

                “Well, I feel like I’m intruding on a family conversation. If I can, I’ll just go back to my room now.”

                “Not so fast,” said Kzereck, “We haven’t accomplished what I called you down here for.”

                “Yes?” she groaned inwardly that she had to answer to this imbecile, but, once again, she kept her feelings to herself.

                “We’re going to have to find out where the prisoner went.” He began, more to his son than to her.

                “Yes, father?” replied Jeatoe, looking awfully confused for being the son of an evil general.

                “Interrogation.”

* * *

Grace ran through the forest, all the time a strange pulling sensation dragging at her back. She felt that if she did not run faster, she would be caught up in the sky. She tried to tell herself that it was just nerves, but she knew, deep down, that it was more than that. It was real, and it was coming for her.

                She tumbled into a cave, out of breath. Panting, she clambered to the cave wall, out of site of the entrance. Just as she did, she thought about going back to find Mark. She wasn’t sure what exactly she had been running from, but she had a feeling she should go back and try to find him. Soon, however, her choice was made for her, as the cave opening collapsed without warning or cause. She now had no choice but to go deeper into the cave.

                As she continued, she began to feel a soft, warm breeze coming from somewhere up ahead. She began to have hope, and started to run towards the breeze. Soon, she saw a light, not unlike daylight, radiating from up ahead. The breeze was evidentially coming from it. As she drew even closer, she could smell a wonderful smell, like a thousand beautiful plants all working together. She drew nearer and nearer, and then she heard a deep, but gentle voice.

* * *

Grace awoke with a start, and a splitting headache. She groaned, and rolled over. Her dream had been so real, but she didn’t want to think about it. She let out another groan and put her hand to her head. Mark must’ve noticed, because he rushed right over.

“Are you alright?” he asked, clearly concerned.

“Uh . . . I’m not sure,” she began. “I had a . . .” she broke off, unsure whether or not to tell him of her dream.

“You had a what?” he asked.

“I had . . . I mean, I have an awful headache.” she decided not to tell him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. We need to get moving, though.” She began to stand up, but then her hand flew to her head, and she groaned again. As she collapsed, Mark caught her.

“I don’t think you’re as ‘fine’ as you say, Grace. I don’t think you’re fit to rescue Michal and Alexander.”

“I’ll manage,” she said, determined.

“Are you sure?” he asked suspiciously.

“I said I’ll manage.” This time when she stood up, she held in the groan and tried her best to stand up normally, in a way that wouldn’t betray her pain. Mark wasn’t convinced.

“Fine, but sit down while I get some of those supplies for breakfast.”

“Honestly, Mark, I know you’re my older brother, but only by one year! You needn’t try so hard, I’m not helpless!”

“Nevertheless, sit down!”

“Yes, father! . . . Oh, don’t get that look on your face, Mark, I was just kidding. We both miss father, but we have to focus on our living siblings who need us.”

“I know, I know.” he sighed. Then, snapping back to reality, “Still, sit down!”

“All right, I get the picture.” she groaned once more as she sank down to the ground.

“Good.”

* * *

By the time they had finished eating, Grace felt better than ever.

“I swear, Mark, I feel fine now!”

“You couldn’t even walk an hour ago!” Mark argued.

“What will it take for me to prove to you that I’m fine?” asked Grace. She had already demonstrated that she could walk for ten minutes without passing out, lean over and pick something up, and even beat Mark in a running-race. Yet he still refused to believe her. “Fine.” she said. “I am going to do the last possible thing that I can think of to make you believe me, and if you still don’t believe me, your loss.” With that, she ran past him, turned, did a few cartwheels to the base of a tree, then quickly climbed to the top of it, a triumphant grin on her face. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“You know very well what!”

“Well, I suppose I believe you.” He gave a sly smile. She punched him. “Again, I thought Kzereck was the bad guy!” (Awww, sweet brother-sister moment!!! I don’t have an older brother. I should order one. Where do you get them, Babies R Us? Wait, older brother . . .  Hmm, Teens R Us? Hehehe, I crack myself up, if no one else. ;) ) She grinned. “Still,” he continued. “If you feel even slightly tired, we’ll stop.”

“Yes, fa –” she broke off. Ooops, why did I say that!

Reading her face, Mark quickly said, “It’s alright, Grace I don’t mind.”

“Are you really sure?” she asked. “I am sorry, I know it upsets you.”

“Yes, I’m really sure!” he promised. “Now we’d better get going.”

* * *

Grace ran through the forest ahead of Mark, clearly eager to prove to him that she really was as well as she claimed.

“Slow down!” he called out.

“What? The sick girl’s running too fast for you to catch?”

He grinned. “Fine, fine, I give in, you’re fine, I can see that now.” Although she did get on his nerves, he loved his sister.

She proceeded to taunt him by acting sickly. “Oh, my head, it hurts so badly!  I can barely run, but, oh look, I’m beating my brother!” she burst out laughing.

“Ok, I believe you. But, that’s enough teasing, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Mark, even you know I have so much more in me!” she joked.

Suddenly, her hand flew to her forehead, and she sank to the ground. Mark ran over and caught her. He noticed she had a strange look on her face, as if she were remembering something, something very distant, as if from a long time ago or a dream.

“Are you alright?” he asked, alarmed. When she only groaned in response, he added, “That settles it, there’s no way I’m letting you help rescue them.” she groaned again. “Grace?”

“Mark, I need to tell you something.”

“Yes, Grace?”

“Last night I had a dr – vision.” She corrected herself. Then she proceeded to tell him the details of her dream, from beginning to end.

“And that was it? You followed a tunnel to the back where you saw a beautiful garden? Maybe I’m missing something, but why is this so important that you absolutely have to tell me?” he asked.

“No, that’s not the terribly important part.” she explained. “As I was looking into the garden from the cave, I was just about to go into it, but then I heard a man’s voice from behind me.”

“What did he say?” Mark still wondered at the point of all this, but now he felt reassured that the story was actually getting somewhere.

“He said, ‘It is not your time yet, my daughter, but it soon will be.’”

“Why’d he call you his ‘daughter’? Was it Dad?”

“Yes, wait, no. Yes. I don’t know. Yes and No?”

“You seem like you’re asking the question now.”

“Maybe I am. He wasn’t dad, but I somehow knew he had a right to call me that.”

“Well, what do you think he meant?”

“Well . . . that’s not really what I need to tell you either.” she paused. “After that, he went on to say that he needed me to give you a message.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just imagining things because of your headache?”

“I’m sure, Mark! I didn’t even have the headache till after my dream! In fact, I think the dream somehow caused the headache, not the other way around as you believe.”

“All right, all right!” he could see that his sister was getting overworked and he didn’t think that was good for anyone who’d been unable to walk earlier that day. “What did he say?”

“He said to tell you his exact words.” she hesitated.

“Yes, well? What were they?” Mark was trying to be tolerant of his sister, but he was struggling.

“He said, ‘There are tough times ahead, and you must be strong and courageous in order to make it through them.’” Mark began to interrupt at this point, but Grace quickly shushed him and continued on. “‘You will succeed in rescuing your two siblings, and not only one single time. However, you will need them as much as they need you to survive. You must trust your family and your heart more than anything to save the nation from the Serenians who have held the people in fear and terror for so long. You will find several allies, many you may not trust at first, and from strange places. But they are all needed for you to accomplish the common goal of the people. It is for this reason that things have happened, and will happen, the way they have. But don’t worry, if you simply have faith in your allies and family, you will overcome. It is that you have come to this position for such a time as this. And you will succeed in finding the King also. – ’ ”

At this point Mark interrupted. “How does he expect me to do that? No one knows where the king is, for all we know the Serenians could have killed him a long time ago. I wouldn’t even know how or where to start!”

“I was just getting to that,” Grace said calmly and quietly. “ ‘You will find him only by believing and having faith – ’ ”

“That’s all good and well, Grace, but faith alone isn’t going to defeat an entire evil army.”

“He did say you had a lot to learn.” she managed a grin. “ ‘Although you may think this is the hardest part, it will be by far one of the easiest.’ ”

“How can that possibly be one of the easiest!”

“Mark,” she began.

“Ok, I suppose the others could just be the hardest in comparison, like if everything is hard beyond belief.”

“No, Mark,” Grace sighed. “When he said ‘easy,’ he meant ‘easy’!”

“Ok, well, maybe I believe you, but why did you choose to tell me now instead of this morning?”

“Because, right before I clasped my head again I saw the man, and he said something to me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Make haste to do the job I have set out for you. Your time is drawing to a close.”

And then, they heard horses trampling through the undergrowth. But Mark reacted a split-second too late, for an arrow had already plunged into Grace’s stomach. (I surprised you, didn’t I? Bet you never saw that comin!)

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Must Reads.

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Rune by Skullduggery (short story version)

8

August 18, 2010

I am the one who watches over you. I am the one who sees all. I am the one who deters nightmares from the realms. I am Rune. Yet once, I was not Rune. Once, I was a boy named Silas Freeman. I lived in the colony of Intisa. It was when the Nightmares roamed freely, feeding on the souls of the living. Flames danced. Beasts leapt. Chaos reigned. Night was endless.

I wanted to aid my world. But, I was a child, not even given my true name and job yet. I couldn’t do anything. I lived with my mother, and my older sister, Wheatweeve. My father and my older brother Whetstone had both been fed on. Father before I was born. Whetstone when I was nine. Then, when I was twelve, everything changed.

It was the day before I would be given my true name. I had told the Elders I wanted a job that would forever rid the worlds of nightmares. They told me they would see what they could do. After my interview, I went to talk to my best friend, Douglas. We were sitting in the wheat field. He told me he wanted to be named Strongblade or something like that.

It was then that the world grew cold. Frost danced on the tips of the grass. Douglas looked at me, terrified. We spoke the word at the same time.

“Nightmares!”

We sprinted for Intisa. The fence was just in sight. The nightmares didn’t come into the colony. I don’t know why. I leapt over the fence. I was safe!

But, Douglas wasn’t. He was a few feet away from the barrier. The nightmares flickered behind him, getting closer, changing shape. Douglas was so close. He jumped… and was caught on the fence. Snagged. Exposed. The darkness, the cold, the fear all swirled around him as the nightmares fed. Light poured from Douglas. It was happiness, excitement, and, what nightmares craved the most, hope.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”I screamed, then, “DOUGLAS! NO!”

I felt hands pulling me away from the fence. I fought them. I had to reach Douglas. Save him, though I knew he was gone. He would become a nightmare. My best friend. All gone, from his short, red hair, to his bouncy, optimistic personality. No soul remained, no sign that Douglas was still here in some form. He was one of them now. The enemy.

“Silas,” said Wheatweeve as she pulled me away from the fence, “Stop fighting me. He’s gone.”

“I WANT TO KILL NIGHTMARES!” I screamed, “I WANT TO MAKE THEM PAY!”

“We don’t know how Silas,” Wheatweeve said, sobbing, “Come home, please. Stop fighting.”

The sun set, totally indifferent to Douglas being taken. That night Mage, the old wizard visited me. He told me that my name and job had been chosen. I found it strange that Mage had told me this, not Giver, the distributer of names. Mother came in and fed me soup. Then, I slept, putting up dreamguards so that nightmares wouldn’t infiltrate my dreams.

I was woken by Wheatweeve. She told me that the Elders wanted to see me as soon as possible. I was surprised. The sun had not yet risen. The Elders never saw anyone this early. Quickly, I washed, combed my hair, and put on clothes. Then, I dashed through the sleeping colony and to the Mesa, the building of the Elders. It was a flat topped hill with caves carved into it. I went to the Naming Room. Sure enough, there were the Elders, waiting. I noticed Mage sitting there. He wasn’t an Elder!

“Sit,” commanded Leader. She was a tall woman with plated black hair. She was also Douglas’s mother. I obeyed. “Thank you for coming. The tragedy of Douglas’s is harrowing to all of us, least of all you. However, Mage has a solution. Mage! Bring forth the rune!”

Mage picked up a small, black box that had been lying on the table. It was a fierce looking object, made of wood and with no markings. Mage hobbled around the long table and handed it to me. I removed the lid. Inside, was a marking that looked like this ?. It was made of silver and glowed with a faint, purple light.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It is the object that will make you more powerful than the nightmares,” Mage answered, “While they are the embodiment of fear, anger, and all negative feelings, you will be the embodiment of positive feelings.”

“So, what’s the catch?” I said. One thing mother had always told me was, if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

“You force the nightmares back into the realm of dreams, where they come from. Once they are there, you seal the portal to that realm. You become a dream creature. Your true name will be Rune,” explained Leader.

I thought about it. I would be leaving behind my life here. I would never talk to my mother and sister ever again. But, I would be able to create good dreams. And, best of all, I would improve the lives of everyone everywhere. I had my answer.

“Yes,” I said, then asked, “How do I do this?”

“Just touch the rune.”

I took a deep breath. The last breath I would ever take in this form. The rune was waiting. I pressed my hand upon it.

“Our truest life is when we are in our dreams awake.” –Henry David Thoreau

The End

Categories: Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 8: Through the Woods

13

June 17, 2010

Mark followed the small dirt road until he came to a fork in it. It had recently rained, as it always seemed to, so the road was mostly mud, which benefited him. He looked, and found some wagon tracks leading to the left lane. He quickly turned to follow it. He tracked the wagon in this way for many more hours, but finally it became too dark to see much. He climbed a tree and woke early the next morning, wanting to gain some extra time. He was sure that they had stopped earlier for the night, and would start later than him. This would enable him to catch up much faster, he hoped. He had been tracking for three days when he discovered several fallen trees. Mark concluded that there must have been a storm over the previous night or two, and kept walking. Soon, he came to a sharp turn in the road, with tracks that indicated that the wagon had had a hard time negotiating the turn and lost control. In fact, he could see the crashed wagon further ahead in the woods. But before rushing up to it, he stopped to investigate the tracks more. He soon found footprints that showed someone had jumped from the wagon before it crashed and had run away. He looked closer and realized that the prints must belong to a woman, for they were smaller and lighter. He knew instantly they belonged to Grace.

 *      *      *

 

  Grace collapsed at the base of a tree trunk. She was so tired. When she had seen the bend in the road during the storm, Grace knew it was her chance to escape. She had quickly grabbed a dagger from the supplies that the soldiers all thought she knew nothing about – they were so bad at keeping secrets; they assumed that she wouldn’t dare to listen to their conversations even when they stood right by her. After Grace had grabbed the dagger, she jumped from the wagon, stealing the driver’s attention so that he promptly crashed the wagon – and everyone on it. Then she had run as fast as she could while they picked themselves out of the rubble. She was sure now that she had put more than a safe distance between her and the guards, but even if she hadn’t, she was too tired to go any farther.

To her dismay, she soon saw the figure of a man coming towards her from the direction of the crash. She wanted to cry. She had run nonstop for at least an hour, and they had still managed to catch up to her. She didn’t have enough energy to try to climb the tree, like her brother, Mark, would have done, plus that would only draw attention to herself. She finally decided it was best to stay as still as possible and pray that the man would pass by unknowingly. The man seemed very intrigued with something on the ground, and kept his head down as he walked to look at what-ever-it-was.

Oh, no! Grace realized. He’s following my footprints!

And indeed he was.

Can this day get any worse? 

And then the man turned towards her.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 7: Success

12

June 16, 2010

 

Dark clouds filled the sky as Mark fled quietly from the castle. Every moment he wanted to run at full speed, but he tensed every muscle in his body to stay under control – he could not afford to be caught. As he drew nearer, he began to feel more and more hopeful. Finally, when he was only about twenty yards away from the edge of the woods, he could take it no longer. He ran with all his might, and from behind him he could hear guards giving shouts of alarm.

They won’t be able to figure it out, he thought. Not in time to stop me, at least.

Nevertheless, he soon heard galloping far behind him. He strained his muscles even harder and looked back. He saw a small band of horses and their riders gaining on him. Only five more yards. He struggled to keep up his pace, but, as we all know, it is always harder to do anything and everything under pressure. He stumbled into the woods, just a few yards ahead of the group. He quickly scaled a tree, and began to climb from branch to branch, from tree to tree, something he had become quite good at when he was Alexander’s age. When he was far enough away, he looked back to see the soldiers’ confused and worried faces. Obviously, they’d be in huge trouble with Kzereck if they came back empty-handed, regardless of whether or not they knew it was he who had escaped. Mark smirked, serves them right. He quickly located the road on which Grace must have been taken and set off quickly to find his sister.

*      *     *

Michal watched as Mark quietly fled from the castle. It was slow going, but the slower he went, the less likely it was he’d be noticed. She could tell he desperately wanted to break out running as fast as possible, but she hoped he would not give in. Mark was so close, he could just make it if only he remained under control.

“Oh, no!” Michal whispered, as Mark broke into a run. She prayed he would not be noticed. “No, no, no!”

Michal heard shouts of alarm from the turrets. She prayed it was not him they were alarmed at. Michal watched as a band of guards on horseback left the gates and began to persue Mark. She prayed he could get away safely.

Michal watched in distress as the guards gained on her brother. Mark noticed too, she could see him trying to pick up the pace. They were only five (Ha! I spelled it out, happy now? ;D) yards behind him as he entered the woods.

Yes, Michal thought, odds are he’ll make it in the woods, he practically lived in them back home. But he hasn’t been in them for such a long time, what if he falls?

She watched as Mark sung himself up into a tree and climbed to the top. He had not lost his skill. He had done that in less than ten (Ha, again!) seconds. Now Michal saw the soldiers entering the woods, giving shouts of alarm and confusion. Then they seemed to spot something, and went farther into the woods.

Oh, no! He’s caught, that’s the end of it. Grace is lost to us forever, and Lex and I won’t get to see Mark much either, he’ll be kept under close watch.

Finally, the guards reappeared after about thirty minutes, looking forlorn. They had no captive with them.

“Yes!” Michal whispered. “Sweet success.”

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 6: The Escape

2

June 13, 2010

 

Everything was settled. Lex would start sleeping now, so that he would not get punished when it was discovered that his brother had escaped. Michal was to go to her room, and on the way she would stop to talk to the guard. After about ten minutes, she would convince the guard that Mark had gone to his room while they were talking. That way no one would notice for a while, thinking he was sulking because of what had happened to Grace. Then she would enter her room and tie blankets together. She would then sling them over to Alexander’s window, where Mark would catch them and climb to her room. Once there, he could better shimmy straight down the makeshift rope to the ground outside the wall. From there, he would run across a vast stretch of open field to where the woods started, about one hundred yards away. That would be the hard part. If he made it that far unnoticed, he would hike through on the edge of the woods, following the path his sister had taken. If he was noticed, he would run as fast as possible, ceasing to be quiet and careful. If caught, he would say that he was leaning out the window, to see if he could spot Grace again, and fell out. If questioned why he ran, he would say that he had panicked and wasn’t himself when he ran. If they were lucky, none of them would get in trouble. Fingers crossed.

“Here we go.” said Michal.

“Good luck.” said Mark.

“Same to you. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go.” She entered the hallway. “Hello, guards.” She smiled sweetly.

“Hello?”

Michal talked to the guard, and although they didn’t seem at all interested, they acted like they weren’t paying attention to anything else. Luckily, she didn’t have to answer any tough questions, like why she was talking to them. Again, they weren’t at all interested, and just kept staring into space while she spoke. “All for the better,” she thought, “it’ll be easier to convince them that Mark went to his room if they aren’t paying attention.” Finally, she heard the sound she’d been waiting for. A small banging noise came from within Alexander’s room, the signal.

“Oh, I do hope Mark’s alright, he already went to his room.” she said, faking innocence.

“He did?” asked one guard suspiciously, “I didn’t see him.”

“He came out of Alexander’s room when you were looking that way,” she gestured to the other end of the hall.

“But I didn’t hear him either,” another objected.

“Oh, but didn’t you hear that little banging noise?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t the sound the other doors make.” said the first.

“Is this your first time guarding?” she asked critically. “Everyone knows his door is hard to close and open, and that force must be used on it!”

“But – ”

“You’ll obviously have to take my word for it, he might not be himself, because of what happened with Grace. He might attack you if you barge into his room.”

Now the guards were being more reasonable, apparently the guards had a healthy fear of Mark. Michal decided she’d remind herself to tell Mark so that he could use their fear to his advantage.

“Very well, but go to your room now.” a third ordered.

“Oh, alright.” she faked disappointment and trudged to her room. Once there, she wasted no time in tying the blankets together and slinging them to her brother. Once he had swung over to her window, she hurriedly told him about her discovery.

“Really?” he sounded pleased. “I’ll have to remember that, it might work to our advantage later.”

“Just what I was thinking.” she replied. “Now you must go, before Grace and her guards get too far away to track. Good luck, and tell Grace that Alexander and I send our love.”

“Will do, and don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Good bye, I’ll miss you and Lex.”

“Good bye, and good luck again, we’ll miss you both.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let Grace be taken from us.” he promised.

After they had finished exchanging goodbyes, Michal held the rope as Mark shimmied down it and landed safely. He quickly untied the two extra blankets they had added, one for him and one for Grace, slung them over his shoulder, and proceeded to quietly slip away towards the woods.

Designed by Tim Sainburg from Brambling Design

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 5: Taken

2

June 13, 2010

 

Mark watched helplessly from Alexander’s room as Grace was taken through the courtyard and through the gates. When she had been taken from the general’s room, they had been led, quite forcibly, to their rooms, where Michal pleaded with the guard, who was a softy, to let them sit together in Alexander’s room. He had concented, and now they all watched from the window, feeling helpless. As they watched their sister being taken from them, they began to remember themselves being taken to the Dark Castle for the first time, and the rest of their family.

                “Do you know what happened to our parents?” asked Mark.

“They were still at home when I was captured, but I don’t know if they’re there now.” said Michal.

“Would they be here if the Serenians got them?” asked Alexander.

“I think Kzereck would have them taken to a different place than us.” Michal reasoned.

“Or kill them.” Mark said grimly.

After a long pause, Michal said “What do you think ever happened to our other brother?”

                “I thought he disappeared before I was born.” Alexander put in.

                “Yes, he did. But now that you mention it, I wonder if the Serenians were involved too.” said Mark.

                “That’s what I was thinking,” began Michal, “but if so, wouldn’t he be here with us now?”

                “Unless they have him somewhere else like they’re doing to Grace.” sniffled Alexander.

                “We’ve got to do something.” determined Mark.

                “About our brother?” Michal asked, “Why, we wouldn’t know where to begin! We don’t know where he is, or if he’s even alive!”

                “No, about Grace.”

                “About Grace!” exclaimed Alexander.

                “What do you mean?” questioned Michal.

                “We can’t be separated,” began Mark. “we can’t leave Grace to survive among Serenians by herself!”

                “What can we do?” asked Alexander.

                “If I escape,” began Mark, “I can save her.”

                “But how will you get out? And where will she go once you have accomplished this? If you bring Grace back, Kzereck will just send her away again, and then put you under lock and key.” said Michal.

                “I don’t know. But I can’t just leave her there.”

                “Alright,” began Michal, “ then we’ll help.”

 *

 

                Cole silently followed his Aunt through the forest. Obviously, she wasn’t worried, he could hear her crashing through the forest ahead of him. But as they drew closer, he could hear her less and less. Evidentially, she didn’t want to be stopped before she could reach her daughter. Finally, he heard nothing more. Either she had halted completely or had become just as silent as Cole. Unfortunately, Cole thought the second, and kept walking. After a few minutes, he nearly toppled over a small hill concealed by undergrowth. Only it wasn’t a hill; it was his Aunt.

                “Uhh. . . Hi, Aunt Emma.”

                “Cole!” she whispered sharply. “I told you to stay with the little ones!”

                “I’m sorry, Aunt Emma. I was worried about Alexia, and they were sleeping, and you didn’t bring a weapon, so I figured I should come and help.”

                “You should do as you’re told.”

                “I’m sorry, and I will from now on.”

                “Alright, Cole. We’ll discuss this more later. Since you’re here you might as well stay.”

                “Thank you, Aunt Emma!” Cole exclaimed.

                “Alright, alright,” she smiled. “So, did you bring any weapons?”

                “I brought Alexia’s bow and arrows, she’s been teaching me.”

                “A girl teaching a boy!” she exclaimed, “how imp – ”

                “I know, Aunt Emma, I know. Can I explain it later, though please? We did have a good reason. But why are you sitting here?”

                She only pointed. They had been whispering the whole time, and Cole had just noticed then. He quietly turned to look and saw the reason.

                Down below them was a clear view of the west side of town. What he could see was more or less deserted, but not 10 yards from where they were seated, he could see a large concentration of  Serenians gathered around something. He looked closer and found that they were gathered around a Figure, a person, who was shooting arrows at them. Evidentially, they were trying to fight back, but the Figure was holding up extremely well, but it was obvious that wouldn’t last. The Figure was getting tired, and couldn’t hold up much longer. He looked even closer, and found that the Figure was his own Alexandria.

                “Oh, no.” Cole realized. Out loud, he said, “Aunt Emma, uh, that’s Alexandria.”

                “Oh, no, Alexandria!” now Aunt Emma realized the truth, too.

Alexandria would be taken away from them.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 4: Seperated

4

June 13, 2010

                Hey, guys! I know I havent posted in a while, but I just edited this chapter of my story. Enjoy!

                They continued to follow the guards towards the center of the castle, becoming gloomier and gloomier by the minute. Finally, they approached the chamber where the general awaited them. Lex reached for Michal’s hand, and all four of them drew closer together. When they walked in, they found the general standing across from them on the other side of the chamber.

                “Welcome.”

                “Yeah, that’s completely how we feel right now.” Mark muttered, only to have his foot stepped on by Michal, who didn’t necessarily disagree with him, but she was terrified of what the general would do if he overheard. “What do you want?” he asked, this time audible by the general, which only earned him another good stamp, this time on his other foot, by Grace.

                “Funny you would ask,”

                “What part of it is funny?” he mumbled, and then got elbowed by Lex. “I thought Kzereck was the bad guy, since he’s the one in charge of the Serenian army, not you guys!” he whispered to them.

                “Well, I thought Kzereck was the stupid one too, but I see differently now.” Grace retorted.

                In order to prevent an all-out argument from emerging in the chamber, Michal quickly asked, “Why do you say that?” as innocently as she could.

                “Well, you see, there’s been a little . . . room shortage,” he grinned evilly, “so we need to have a few people . . .leave.”

                “Good, we’ll be happy to leave,” Mark said, not noticing the evil grin. He headed towards the door, only to have his way blocked by a couple of guards.

                “Not quite.” Kzereck sneered. “We’ve decided that . . .”

                “By ‘we,’ you mean you, correct?” Grace guessed.

                “Yes, yes, anyway, I’ve decided, if you want to be particular, I’ve decided that we’ll send two of you away, and keep the other two of you here, under closer guard, just to discourage any plans.”

                Michal glared at the boys, he had mentioned plans, after all. Then she turned to Kzereck. You can’t do that,” she said, trying to deter his plan, “why would you even want to? You’ve nothing to gain.”

                “Simple,” said the general, “because I can, I don’t like you,” he said glancing at Mark, with whom the feeling was mutual, “and you,” he once again referred to Mark, “can’t do anything about it.” Kzereck explained with an evil grin.

                At that, Mark wanted to lunge at him. Kzereck knew exactly how to push his buttons. But he didn’t have a weapon, was outnumbered, and was at the disadvantage. Instead he clenched his fists and focused on what he’d like to do to Kzereck. But, as Kzereck continued, he found his self-control lacking, and finally did lunge. He was quickly restrained by a few of the guards standing by.

                “Okay, well we can certainly see who’s staying here.” Kzereck taunted.

                Mark tried to escape the grasp of the men, only to receive a swift punch on the ribs. Grace at once ran up, enraged, and slapped one of the guards in the face, to no avail. Then she quickly proceeded to get on to Kzereck.

                “You are just a big bully! Face it, you are afraid of him! If you weren’t, you’d be taking care of him yourself, not threatening or using stupid guards! You are a disgrace to mankind,” she proceeded to spit on him.

                Finally, Kzereck got fed up with her.

                “GUARDS!!!!”

               “Calling for help?” she taunted, somehow becoming extremely brave. She also knew how to press peoples’ buttons.The guards quickly came and stood next to Grace.

“Well, then we certainly can’t keep two trouble-makers together, now can we?” Kzereck asked as he struggled to regain his composure, “but I do believe that you, Miss, will need twice as many guards as one person, so on second thought, let’s send you away, and keep the other three, doesn’t that sound splendid?” Let’s just say Kzereck knew exactly how to get back at people, and he didn’t forgive readily either.

At this, Mark instantly elbowed his guards in the gut, planning to lunge at Kzereck again, this time not even considering the fact that he had no weapon. However, at the last second, he managed to remember and jerked the sword out of one of the soldier’s sheath.

As Mark charged Kzereck, 20 more guards seemed to appear out of nowhere. At Kzereck’s command, which came out sounding more or less like a wail, they practically dog-piled Mark. As he struggled to his feet, still held by the guards, Kzereck let out the most evil laugh even the guards had ever heard.

Alexander had been standing off to the side this whole time, timidly holding Michal’s hand. Now, he ran at Kzereck, however he wasn’t dog-piled. After all, he was only a kid. But, he was like a kid on a mission, he ran up to Kzereck, semi-fearless, and stomped on his toes, all while yelling, “Leave my brother alone!” All he received was a swift slap in the face, via Kzereck. He reeled back, red in the face and bleeding from Kzereck’s ring. Michal rushed to him and helped him up from the ground, while Grace was dragged away and Mark held down.

Ohh, what are we going to do? she wondered.

 *

 

Cole followed Nathan amidst the chaos. He was glad to have Nathan, he was sure that he would have panicked otherwise. As Nathan led him onward, he looked back to where they had left Alexandria only moments before. He could just barely make out her form through the haze, as she began to shoot arrows at the invading Sereians. Now, as they fled through the streets of Refagade, he found himself scared out of his skin. He could not take his mind off of Alexandria’s position. He was sure she wouldn’t make it out saftely, maybe she wouldn’t come out at all.

Maybe she’ll be taken by the Sereians. Maybe she’ll be able to hide. Maybe she’d be injured and unable to find her way home. Maybe she’ll be killed and we won’t even know it. Maybe . . .

He worried all the way through the town, through the forest, and up the walk to the house, where Nathan left him to go help out at the battle scene. He knew he’d have to find Aunt Emma and tell her about the situation in town and he and Alexandria’s separation. But he didn’t want to. He knew it would worry her. And Aunt Emma didn’t even know Alexandria had been practicing. She thought it wasn’t proper. She’d be worried. Definitely. But he had to. He knew he had to.

“Aunt Emma!” he called. “Aunt Emma, where are you?”

He found her around the back of their home trying to keep an eye on the girls, who were evidently enjoying playing house with their little brother, while mending some clothes. The girls were shrieking with delight, but Andrew did not seem so thrilled – he had fallen asleep. As Cole approached, the girls decided to follow Andrew’s lead and announced it was night-time. As the girls settled down in the moss, Cole came into view.

                “Hello, Cole,” Aunt Emma greeted him. “Where’s Alexandria?”

“Well,” Cole began. “There was a problem in town. . .”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well,” he began again. “These boys in town we were talking to said that there were Sereians nearby, and while we were listening a band of Sereians barged into town and then we were running with the boys and one of them, Nathan, came to take me home and he uhhh. . .” he broke off.

“He did what? Where’s Alexandria?” Aunt Emma was becoming more and more worried, but she managed to stay quiet so that she would not scare the girls, who actually had fallen asleep next to their brother.

“He handed Alexandria a . . . a . . . a bow and a quiver of arrows.”

“Arrows! She cant shoot arrows!” Aunt Emma exclaimed.

“Uh, she can, actually.”

“What!”

“She’s been practicing lately, she’s pretty good, actually.”

“But she’s a lady, its not proper! She should know I don’t approve – ”

“I know, Aunt Emma, but now she’s fighting the Serenians, and they’re raiding the town, so can you get on to her another time, like when she’s here!”

“I suppose you’re right, Cole, I’m going to go and get her.”

                “Aunt Emma!” Cole exclaimed.

                “I must, don’t worry. You stay here with the girls and Andrew.”

                “But Aunt Emma – ”

                “No buts, dear.”

                “But – ”

                “Cole,”

                “I know, I know, no buts. Aunt Emma, you don’t have a weapon or anything. If I run really fast, I can catch up to Nathan and he can bring Alexia home.” Cole pleaded, all the time struggling to not say “but.”

                “Cole, there’s no way you could run that fast, he’s been gone for over half an hour! Just stay here, and I’ll be back with Alexia sometime soon.”

                With that, his Aunt turned and headed for town, leaving Cole feeling helpless. Once she had gone, he turned and looked at his three sleeping cousins. After a few moments, he decided that they wouldn’t wake up for another hour or so, and headed off after his Aunt.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 3: The Dark Castle

4

June 13, 2010

 

It was a dark and dim day, as usual, at the castle. Mark sat in his small, also dark, room, listening to guards walking up and down the hall. He figured that it was almost noon. Good, I’ll get to see Lex, Grace, and Michal.

                About 10 minutes later, one of the guards came and announced noon-time. He quickly found his 9-year-old little brother, Alexander, and called out to him.

                “Lex!”

                “Hey, Mark!” Lex responded, resting at his usual spot on the grounds. Mark quickly joined him.

                “Any news?”

                “Nothing has changed since we got here at the start of the war, Mark, that’s what I tell you every time you ask.”

                “I know, it’s just the more I ask, the more likely it is I’ll get a desired answer.” He smiled.

                They had been there, in the Dark Castle, since the start of the war. Lex had been trapped here with them since he was very small, he didn’t even remember their old home, which Mark regretted, Lex had loved it there. They were being held captive by the Serenians, along with their sisters. There seemed to be no way out, but Mark kept telling himself there had to be. Still, he had had no luck so far, and was beginning to lose hope.

                Just then, as the boys were talking, the two girls emerged from inside the castle. One called out, and they both ran over to the boys.

                “Hi, guys.” Michal greeted, “What are you talking about?”

                “How much we want to leave.” Mark explained.

                Michal gave him a look, obviously disapproving him talking about his desire to escape so near the guards.

                “I said we were talking about how much we don’t like it here, not escape plans! I’ve been away from home for 7 years!”

                “5 months of which were your fault.” Grace reminded him.

                “Excuse me, I just ran away, in fact, I was on my way back!”

                “So you say.” Grace teased, knowing his soft spot.

                “Hey! You’re the one wh – ” he was interrupted by Michal trying to break it up before it came to yelling.

                “Guys, hello? We’re prisoners you know, it’s not the best time to fight amongst ourselves!” Michal pleaded with her siblings.

                “Alright, alright, just tell that to her.” Mark conceded. 

                “Me! He’s the one wh – ”

                “You’re doing it again!”

                “Alright, but still, it is at least partly his fault.”

                “We didn’t run away and they still kidnapped us, they would have gotten him eventually anyway. Nothing can be solved by arguing. Even if it is Mark’s fault, we can’t solve anything by proving that.” She made it clear she didn’t approve of them fighting – which was odd, since Mark was the eldest, at 16, and Grace the second, at 15. Michal was 14, and Lex came in last at 9. “Fighting obviously isn’t helping.”

                Just then, one of the guards came and told them that Kzereck, the general in charge of the castle, wanted them.

                “What does he want?” Lex complained, “Nothing good can come of it.”

                “It’s probably because of your escape plans.” Michal blamed the boys.

                “We were only complaining!” the boys objected in unison.

                They continued to argue good-naturedly until they reached the large doors of the castle. Then, they simply were led as their spirits plummeted, down the dim corridors of the Dark Castle.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 2: The Raid

4

June 13, 2010

 

They set off on horses to get the supplies, it was only a short ride, and they made good time. When they got there, they saw a large crowd in the square. Cole immediately wanted to see, but since they were on an errand Alexandria insisted that they get the supplies first. Due to Cole’s eagerness, they finished in record time, and he proceeded to persuade her.

                “Now can we go?” he asked.

                “Well . . .” she joked.

                “Please, Alexia!” Cole all but begged.

                “I’m just kidding, Cole, of course we can go now – but at the first sign of trouble, we leave.” She insisted.

                “Okay, fair enough.” Cole agreed, but was secretly disappointed.

                When they reached the square, they found a small band of boys her age, warning the bystanders of the enemy drawing near.

                ‘’ . . . seen at Atalell, up to no good.” One boy, who appeared to be the leader, was saying as they arrived.

                Atalell! Alexandria worried, That’s only two days journey, we’re all in danger! . . . if they have their facts straight. . .

                She clearly saw her fright displayed in her cousin’s eyes.

                They listened a little longer, till the boys finished. Then Alexandria ran up to them to find out if there was really a cause for alarm. She plowed through the crowd, straight toward the leader, Cole in tow.

                As she came up, he was talking with 4 other boys, one from the town, she supposed he wanted to join and the rest were already in the group, but she quickly fixed that.

                “Excuse me,” she interrupted, “are you sure you have your facts straight?” she launched her cross-examination.

                The boy, a little bewildered at her abruptness, but glad to have a new listener, replied, “Yes, in fact we just came from Atalell. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch yo – ”

                “Alexandria,” She interrupted, “and this is my cousin, Cole.”

                “Hi,” An also bewildered Cole mumbled.

                “Yes, well, and yours?” Alexandria continued.

                “I’m Kolton” said the leader, “and these are my friends Arthur, Nathan, and Jimmy. And this is Ryan, he lives in this town and he wanted t – ”

                “Yes, we’ve met. Anyway, what, exactly do the Serenians want?” she matter-of-factly asked.

                “Well, we aren’t sure, but it’s stran – ”

                “What’s strange?” she interrupted again.

                “Well, the way they’re working, it’s just stran – ”

                “Strange how?” Now it was Cole’s turn to interrupt.

                “They’re not exactly ‘waging war’ in every sense of the phrase.” The leader – Kolton – explained.

                “How so?” Alexandria questioned.

                “Well, they seem to be trying to scare people, they’re not fighting excessively hard, but they do seem to be raiding and, well, – ”  Kolton rambled.

                “What?!?” Alexandria practically exploded, “Don’t you think that would have been a good idea to tell everyone while you were making your little speech, no one thinks there’s any cause for alarm, but the Sereians are going to raid the town because, because, well why are they doing it in the first place?!?”

                “I don’t know, they didn’t exactly take care to tell us their evil plots as we fled the village!” Kolton was obviously getting annoyed with being interrupted and yelled at, and gladly took his turn to explode, “And in case you didn’t notice, the people that were standing there weren’t paying complete attention, and those that were, they were only looking for something exciting, they wouldn’t have listened even if we did tell them!”

                 “Well you could have tried! Now we’re all . . . in danger.” Her anger subsided, as it suddenly hit her. They had to do something, before the Sereians raided their own town of Ryngde, “What are we going to do?” she asked, now more cooperative.

                “Alexia,” Cole whispered. “Your arrows.”

                “What?” Kolton asked.

                “I’ve been learning to shoot arrows,” Alexandria explained. “Just to be safe,” she added hastily. “And it appears I’ll be needing that.”

                “Anyway, don’t worry, they’re not very in to it, or just not smart.” Arthur assured.

                “What do you mean?” Cole asked.

                “Well, they didn’t take the time to check the surrounding forests.” Nathan chipped in, “If you ran into the woods, they wouldn’t care, they don’t even look. If you can make it to the woods, you’ll be safe. They haven’t even been looking for homes or cottages in the woods!”

                That news brought at least some relief to Alexandria, the Sereians wouldn’t come anywhere near her mother, as long as she was at home during the raid. When they got home, she would be sure to tell her this. Cole soon echoed her thoughts.

                “That means our house, Elizabeth, Annabelle, Andrew, and Aunt Emma will be safe!”

                “And us too, if we get home and stay there,” she turned to the boys, “Thank you, but we must go if we don’t want to get caught during the raid. I just don’t understand what they could possi – ” she broke off, and it was now her turn to be interrupted.

                She screamed as a sharp dagger ripped through the air, inches from her face, and buried itself into Jimmy’s chest. Suddenly, a barrage of arrows hurtled from the sky, and, although they were only meant to scare, managed to strike a few bystanders – and Kolton’s arm. He swallowed a scream and called his band to battle. Just then,  another band, this one of men on horses instead of boys on foot, crashed into the town, leaving screaming villagers in their wake. Kolton and Arthur quickly ran through some of the Sereians with their swords, while Nathan shot a few arrows into the enemy.

                Alexandria immediately grasped Cole’s hand and fought her way through the crowd. But unfortunately, they were on the wrong side of town. The outskirts on their side of the town were only grassy fields, not woods. They’d have to make a dash to the west side in order to make it to the woods. And they did. As they ran they had to dodge townspeople, and the invading Sereians.  Every once and a while, they saw either Kolton, Arthur, or Nathan, but they disappeared again, dissolving into the crowd to fight again.

                As they continued to run, a Serenian on horse charged down upon them, scooping up Cole and trying to gallop away, but was discouraged by Cole clinging to his cousin’s arm.

                “Alexia!” he screamed.

                “Hold on! Yell for Kolton, Nathan, and Arth . . .” she broke off, trying desperately to keep her cousin with her.

                Just then, out of the dust, Kolton and Arthur ran up to help them. Kolton slashed at the man with his sword, while Arthur helped to pull Cole back to earth. Then Nathan appeared, also seemingly out of nowhere because of the dust. He handed Alexandria a quiver of arrows and a bow – luckily for her, her choice weapon – and promised to get Cole to safety. And then he and Cole disappeared amongst the haze.

                When she brought herself back to reality, she found a Serenian almost upon her. She reacted quickly and let an arrow fly – straight through the man’s heart. Although this was a raid, not a battle, it began to get more and more bloody by the minute. As more and more Sereians rained down upon them, the boys decided to retreat. They sounded it loud and clear, giving shouts of, “Retreat! Run for the woods!” And that was exactly what she did. She and Kolton’s band scattered, though all headed for the same destination. Before she was 10 yards from the edge of the wood, she found herself surrounded by Serenians. She at once began to batter arrows upon them, but it seemed as though she was trapped in an old tale – for every man she shot, it seemed 3 more appeared in his place. She knew she couldn’t successfully hold them off much longer, but she continued to fight, deciding that, considering she hadn’t shown them any mercy, they would do the same. But finally, it seemed she couldn’t do it any longer, and she screamed once more as she was engulfed by the Serenians.

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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Abby’s Story That Has No Name – Chapter 1: Hard Times.

20

June 13, 2010

 

Alexandria drew back her bow and shot. The arrow whizzed through the air, right on target.

                “Yes!”  - her aim was getting better. “There are only trees for targets,” she reminded herself, “But still getting better!” she smiled.

                Lately, she had taken to aiming at leaves or spots of moss, and her progress had increased dramatically. The reason she, of all people, was having target practice, she being a girl, was because of the war that had started in the country when she was young. She, now 15, was the only one left to defend her family, because her father and two other brothers had gone off to war, along with her uncle and other men in town. She was now the oldest in her household – not counting her mother, of course. Besides her and her mother were her infant brother Andrew, her 12-year-old cousin, Cole, and 7-and-8-year-old, little, and very active, sisters, Elizabeth and Annabelle. Even though Cole was 3 years younger than her, she really didn’t think of him as younger. He was one of her best friends, almost like a twin, or something. It was almost scary, they didn’t just get along, or act alike, they even looked alike. They were best friends, and almost inseparable, which was good in their small town. Alexandria’s mother had no time to settle squabbles, what with Andrew and all, so it worked out splendidly, the girls stuck together and so did Cole and Alexandria, which helped lessen their worries.

                Ever since the war had started, things had been bad for everyone – rich and poor. Even the royal family had troubles. They lost all of their children within 2 years before the war. The eldest prince was said to have run away, but some simply thought he was killed, or had an accident. Alexandria believed that he had gotten hurt, after all, he had only been around 10 at the time, plus, 5 months later, when his little brother fell ill, he did not come home, which everyone found strange. His brother became so sick that he died three months later, but the Prince still didn’t show himself, so everyone mostly forgot about him.

                The two princesses also disappeared, one a year before the war, and the younger the day before the war, although no one knew what happened to her, they knew that the eldest had gone to visit an old friend and never returned, after the home had been burned down in an accidental fire.

                Alexandria was pulled from her thoughts as she heard soft footsteps behind her. They were virtually silent. She waited until their owner was within reach, then whipped around at an alarming rate and grabbed the boy by his shoulders and said, “Are you trying to get an arrow put through your head? You know I don’t easily miss.”

                Startled, the boy replied, “Sorry, Alexia, Aunt Emma told me to get you, she wants us to pick up some things from the market.”

                “That’s okay, Cole, what did she want us to get?”

                “She said to get you while she checked to see.”

                “Okay, help me put this stuff away, will you?”

Categories: Fantasy Fiction, Must Reads.

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