The Arcivus of Yoakenomyoujou

Hunters Night Part 2

2004-05-16T22:01:06Z

“Well then Sean, come in and make yourself comfortable. I shall make us some tea then.” She bustled out into the living room and then past though an arched doorway, which I assumed led to a kitchen. The living room was a nice off white color, or so I thought until I looked at the walls a bit closer. They were actually a faint yellowish tinge to them. I moved into the open space that was there, a large bay window facing out onto the front lawn was there, purple curtains hung in the windows. They actually looked a bit odd and out of pace.

In front of me, a large Sofa, placed in front of a coffee table and a small vase of roses. They weren’t particularly in season at the moment, but they were pretty none the less. I looked over to the TV and saw family photos. The girl and some other man. They seemed to be happy. I rolled my eyes. I am not one for the whole happiness ever after, but I believe that if you find it, you must keep it.

I looked around the room and was a little surprised at how sparse it seemed. There was not much left in there, but the bookcase and the tall fireplace which dominated one side of the house. I think at the time I thought it was a little odd that they had chosen to place statuary upon it. Most places I have been people usually barely ever use the mantle as a place to show pieces off. These two were beautiful figures, one again of a man and woman, with respectively a sun and moon motif. They were very pretty, and had the old fashioned antique look, yet I know that they were not more than five to seven years old at the most.

As I mused about the living room and the strange decorating scheme, I failed to notice that Rose came back into the room with two cups of hot tea. I smelled it and noticed a slight tinge of peppermint which I mentioned.

“Actually, yes, it is peppermint.” She smiled rather lightly. I was able to get a better look at her this time and now noticed the fact that she was wearing a five pointed star around her neck. I furrowed my brow and she looked at me a little amused. I have never been one for subtlety. I have usually always been an open book. There was something in her smile that was a little disarming though I think. I was not used to something like it.

“Does it surprise you that I wear one?” Her question startled me out of my musing and I shook my head no and sipped at the tea. It was warm and left a tingle as it flowed down my throat. I smiled.

“What is it for? I have never seen someone wear one before.”

She laughed a little again, very slight, almost strained, “I doubt that you will see many wear these at your age. To answer your question though this is a symbol to me.”

“A symbol; like what?”

“Well,” I recognized her pausing. It was almost as if she didn’t know what to say to me. She looked at me quizzically as I sipped the tea that she had given to me. We sat in silence for a good several minutes. I could not think of a thing to say, and for some reason, I could not bring myself to apologize to her again for running into her. After a few more minutes, she carefully placed her teacup on a coaster and looked directly at me in the eyes, leaning forward over the coffee table.

“Sean, what do you believe in?”

The question took me by surprise. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to answer her. How do you answer that kind of a question? At that time I knew there was no way I could answer it, so I gave her the most canned answer that I could think of.

“I don’t know.”

She frowned at me for a moment and then said, “Well, let me phrase it this way; do you believe in God?”

I was struck dumb where I sat. No one had ever asked me these types of questions before. Most people only asked me if I liked the chocolate milk at the school lunches. That was the extent of my philosophy. After all, what was I supposed to say? I really did not know what to say.

You see, my parents decided that it would be best to divorce each other while I was at a very young age. Due to that, I guess I never had any true anchoring to a religion or other set standard principals of God. Up until then, I had never actually thought about God in any really deep context. I guess you could call me heathen for it, but I never did think to it being a problem.

My mother and father were two different religions; actually I should say they practiced different. My mother’s parents even practiced different, so I did have a little bit of background in several places. However, when I thought of God, I thought of church with my Grandparents, and when I thought of that, I recalled that they were Seventh Day Adventists. Even that was a religious minority.

“Maybe,” I answered. “If there is one, I know I haven’t heard from him at all.” I smiled despite my quip. After all, the closest I had ever been to god was when I had listened to the children’s story in church.

A little spark went off in her eyes. “So then you know about religion?” The remark I had made seemed not to matter at all.

“Yes, I can say that I do know something about going to church.” I frowned and almost instantly a smile slowly played across her lips.

“And tell me Sean, what do you think of Magick?” I looked at her for a moment trying to sort out what it was that she had just said; after all she had placed a direct emphasis on the ending of the word magic. I thought for less than a second when my mouth sputtered out, “Do you mean like pulling rabbits out of hats, card tricks and that sort of thing?”

“No, I mean real magick. Like things that witches and wizards do.”

It was then that I knew I was on dangerous ground. I figured that she was on to something. As to what it was exactly, I’m not sure, but I knew that it was not what I was referring to.

“You mean like flying on brooms and throwing thunderbolts and casting spells and things like that?”

“That is exactly what I mean, casting spells.”

I must have looked exceptionally stupid or rather deeply in thought as she laughed when I failed to answer her for a few moments. “If you have no opinion that is quite all right, I was just wondering…”

“I think it’s real.”

As I cut her off, her smile seemed to sparkle in her eyes. “Is that so? What if I told you that I wear this star around my neck because I believe that I am a witch and that I cast magick spells and such as part of my beliefs?”

I studied her for a moment and thought out what she had just said. It seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy novel. I will be the first to admit my perchance for fantasy novels. I love them. I like the mages, and the princes and princesses, and the entire story behind them. I probably have the largest amount of fantasy fiction books than anyone else I know. What she was saying to me though defied the logic of what I thought to be true and therefore, I figured that I must be reading.

I pinched myself very cautiously and very steadily, slowly applying pressure until I couldn’t stand it. I knew then that I was not dreaming. I wasn’t quite sure what it is that I was thinking then at that moment, but what ever it was the thought vanished as I heard the door behind me open.

“Terra, I’m home! I brought the new sponges for the kitchen from Giant, I hope you don’t…” A man about five-foot eleven walked into the room. He had dark wavy brown hair and a look of puzzlement on his face when he looked at me. A shopping bag in one hand and sponges in the other, she looked a bit rugged, as if he had just gotten out of bed. A small amount of stubble covered his chin and his dark green eyes made for an interesting contrast.

His eyes danced as he shoved a hand out with a sponge in it. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He was quite enthusiastic that I stared at his hand holding the sponge for a moment before he looked down himself and laughed out loud. “Oh, sorry,” he grinned sheepishly as he stuck the plastic covered sponge back into the shopping bag. He then stuck his hand out again and I grasped it in my hand. He shook vigorously and smiled, and continued to do so for a few minute when Rose suddenly said, “Introduce your self, he’s a guest!”

He paused in mid shake and looked at her for a second as if absorbing her words and then said, “My name is Daniel, it is a pleasure to meet you…” he paused and inclined his head to me as I just sat there. He had finally stopped shaking my hand, but still had it in a rather firm grip. I looked down at his hand and noticed a ring on his finger which had a striking resemblance to the star around Rose’s neck. He looked down at our hands, following my gaze and he took his hand back quite suddenly.

“Oh. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to shake it quite so much.”

I sniggered and he looked at me and shook his head in defeat. “My name is Sean. It is nice to meet you too Daniel. I’m sorry if I imposed, but I sort of bumped into your girlfriend.” At this Daniel burst out into laughter. I looked to Rose and saw her begin to giggle. Daniel looked at me and said, “What gave you the idea that she was my girlfriend?” I must have looked confused again and I guess slightly flummoxed, cause as I pointed to the pictures that I had seen, Rose began to giggle even more and Daniel began to laugh harder.

“The pictures gave you that thought?” Rose laughed it away and then said, “Those are merely photos of me and my younger brother.” At that moment I felt utterly stupid and must have looked so because Daniel stopped laughing right away. “You thought that I was her boyfriend?” Daniel almost choked on a smile as he burst into laughing again.
“Oh that is a total trip. I love it. Hey Rose, I bought some oranges as well, I remembered that we were out.” He looked at the bag and then pulled one out with a sheepish grin. “See?”

Rose shook her head and looked at Daniel with a look of exasperation. “Didn’t you remember that I was shopping today? I bought oranges already, as well as sponges and the other myriad of things we needed.” Daniel’s eyes widened into shock and then he sighed.

“I knew I was forgetting something,” he said as he tromped into the kitchen area. Rose looked at me and rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back.” With that, I was once again sitting on the sofa alone in a strange house, wondering what was going on.

The Archivus is Open Once More!

2004-04-28T21:43:55Z

I am pleased to inform all that the Archivus will be opening back up in another two weeks. We have fully gone through all of the tomes that were Sent to us in teh last interum and are more than glad to present you all with teh fully unabriged tale of teh Famous Storm Queen as written in two volues, the first Titled "LightBorn" and the Second called "Thendara's Light". The brothers and I are also happy to announce that the normal schedual for the following stories; "Phantom Rose", "A Tapestry of Chorde", and "Weapon's Voice" will be back to being trasnlated as usual. I also regret to inorm you that teh Story of "Oracle" has once again been compromised. The brothers and I have gone to the local magistrate and we are in the process of untagling the mess that we seem to have hit upon.

Do not think that we will not continue to translate the story however from it's original Illarian script. As soon as all the problems are taken care of the story of Luc and his travels will once again be posted. Please bear with us in this time of change.

Thank you once again and if you ahve any messages please feel free to leave them.

One other thing of note. The Brothers wish to know exactly how well it is that they are doing in their translations. If you see anything that makes no sense, in past entries or in future ones, please do not hesitate to comment about it and bring it to our attention. If this is not done, when the books are finally bound, it will be bound with the mistakes written inside of them.

Thank you for your patronage everyone.

Yoakenomyoujou

Current Status of the Archivus

2004-04-06T21:07:21Z

I am sorry to inform you at this moment that the Archivus is currently closed.
One of the Brothers here has developed bloody fingers after trying to open a particularly old tome that was booby-trapped. The story was in Ten'shiren script and has yet to be translated, though we believe it to have something to do with The lands of Chorde. However, there is speculation that it might be the chronicles that describe the time of the famous StormQueen. We shall find out in due time. Also due to the fact that a few of the brothers have requested it as well as some of the scribes, the Arcivus is currently on vaation. Do not worry, though some were forced to go, some of the scribes have taken the stories from the vault with thme. I hope this does not affect you in any way. Please continue to support the Archivus.

Some final Notes

2004-01-15T20:45:23Z

Just so that you now know, the last chapter of "Phantom Rose"(Part 4) has just been truly finished. It had a lot of additions added though it, like the bad battle scene ^^ Oh well. We here at the Archivus hope you like it.

Phantim Rose Part 4

2004-01-10T06:30:37Z

It was becoming a chore at most. She would sit and Gila and that man Kipsen along with the strange one Julis would bring others whose names she could never remember up to meet her. Through all of them, she could tell that most of them had remembered her, or at least knew of her, but she knew that they were all trying to hide it from her.

She knew that they felt guilty for what it was that they were doing to her.

She would let them come, resign herself to allow them to place their hands upon her breast and request for a power that they all were assuming was in her body. There was nothing in her body. She knew that for a fact. As to what the white light was that shined forth and repelled all of the men; she never wanted to think of it. The only reason that Julis continued to come was that sometimes Kipsen needed help to take the men away. What would usually happen is that they would often be knocked unconscious or worse.

She began to dread the visits. Sometimes, there would be as many as 5 in one day. It had only been half a nineday, five days, since the first visit, but she was already weary of it all. All of the men, big and tall, fat and small, all wore the same damned clothes. She was getting tired of the monotony of it all. Gila would always face the floor and look away when the men would beckon to the strange god Theos, she would never look at her when it happened.

It was quite disconcerting, almost as if she didn’t really want it to happen but was powerless to do anything. And the girl knew that it was true. The woman behind it all was not Gila, but Ceril. As the days had progressed from her being in the dungeon to this new prison, an intense hatred had begun welling within her against Ceril. With each passing day it got worse and worse, almost to the point where she would want to rip out the woman’s heart.

At night, she would lie awake in the bed and wonder what it was that she was forgetting. Sometimes, she would remember snatches of things only to have them eluding her grasp again. Then, there as the occasional time where she would remember as she did when she was in the dungeon. She continued to try to remember what had happened before the cell, but still remain at a loss as to what it was that she could not remember.

Now, she placed a hand to her chest again and felt the strange resurging warmth beneath her hand. Snatches of memories tugged and teased her mind and as she stood there, she thought she could remember words. She tried hard, and the warmth consolidated under her hands as she thought once again what it was that Ceril had said to her in the cell before:

“Your power over the Rose ends here my dear.”

*****

Gila sighed as she left the infirmary. She was tired more so than she had ever been in her life. This time was a harrowing experience for everyone in the House, even if they did not know what it was that was going on. Some of the boys had regained consciousness and had been sworn not to tell of what was in the West Tower of the House grounds, yet still other remained in their state of unconsciousness. Rumor flew from one end of the House to the other. Everyone was curious as to what the project was that the Matriarch had devised that was hurting Potentials of the House at such a rate. Yet not once did Manion and his Sword Mistress ever come up. Not once was her name ever mentioned.

It was almost as if the House had forgotten about them.

They had left the House, it was true. However, it did not fit into the House’s rumor mill. Gila sighed and praised whatever force was watching over the unfortunate events. However, many did not have to gossip much about the Potentials anyway. There was something else that was on everyone’s tongues from the stable boys to the cooks to the maids. Everyone was speculating upon it too.

Oraclé had been staying since the beginning of the nineday. No one knew why and it was not as if she was about to divulge as to why. However, it had been speculated that she was in the Matriarchs office for long conversations about gods-knew-what.

Gila knew though, because the conversations were in fact happening. After them more often than not, Gila was summoned by Ceril and was screamed at for a while herself due to the nature of the conversations. ‘That girl’, as Ceril was now referring to her as was taking up more of her time than she should. It was a slow process, but they had been going though the potentials and slowly but surly, it was reaching a state where Ceril thought that no one would be able to claim the sword.

Gila was on her way to the office for no doubt another conversation of the sort at that moment. As she neared the tall doors, she braced herself for the onslaught. As she opened the doors, she walked in to see Ceril sitting in her chair with her face hidden behind her crossed hands. Her eyes were staring narrowly over at her as Gila closed the door. Red silk bunched at her elbows as the sleeves for her dress fell, showing the pail skin of her arms. Her hair was in complete disarray, and as Gila made a slight curtsy, she reached for her braid to tug at it.

“Don’t do that, I know you’re nervous, but if it weren’t for that damn girl, then we wouldn’t be in this position would we?” Gila tired not to let the intensity of the woman in front of her scare her. She would not let it get to her, at least not yet.

Ceril snarled. “That damn girl still has it, still has what no longer belongs to her. Why?” It had not been the first time Ceril had asked that question, and it wouldn’t be the last Gila assumed. Ceril stood up and began to pace at the other side of the desk. So far, her anger had not come to the forefront, and for that Gila was happy.

“What makes it worse is that damn woman coming in here and trying to meddle so damn much…” Gila knew immediately that she was talking of Oraclé. She knew it would be dangerous to understand what it was that was going on there. She tugged at her braid and bit her tongue at the same time to prevent herself from saying anything that would prolong the conversation beyond the length that it had to be. She had learned early on in this that to try to argue or reason, only made the conversation longer.

As if sensing what it was that she was trying to do, Ceril paused in her pacing. “What is it? Well? Out with it damn you woman!” Her voice had taken a dangerous edge and was beginning to take on the tone. Gila thought quickly and then blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Perhaps Oraclé knows what it is that you want and works to stop you; maybe even clouded the girls mind.” As soon as it was out of her mouth, she clasped a hand up to her mouth and her eyes widened as Ceril’s did too.

“You think that… she perhaps… magick…” Ceril’s eyes thinned again. “That conniving scheming old goat! Spawn of a syphilitic whore and…” Gila cut her off before she could continue. “Maybe we should let the girl rest. After all, we have been running her ragged with all the potentials. It extracts a price from them, but it also extracts one from her.” Ceril turned wild eyes upon Gila and for a moment, nothing registered.

“That seems all right. Take Julis with you though. I don’t want you under the same damn spell.” As Ceril waved a dismissive hand at her, Gila realized that she was getting off easy. For the second time, she thanked whatever forces were at work and rushed out of the study. Once outside, she took several deep breaths and then smoothed her dress out once more, the shimmering yellow fabric smoothing out the creases beneath her hand.

Turning down the hall, she sighed at having to take Julis with her, but decided that it was probably the right thing to do. While walking to gather Julis to take with her to the West Tower, she passed a large painting of the twins Alexia and Alexal, the Twin Roses. They were remarkably identical even after knowing that they were twins, even now, in the painting, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. As the story went and was told, one of the twins had died, and the other remained alive. Yet there had been two Swords of Theos. What had happened when one twin died? Had the mysterious power of the sword duplicated just vanished, or had it gone somewhere else?

Gila shrugged as she walked down to the practice field and inquired again after Julis. She soon found him on the grounds near the roses. “Pretty are they not?” She startled at his enquiry after her. She had not known that he had sensed her. “You have to come with me.”

He turned around. “Another Potential?”

“Not on your life. No, thankfully, the Matriarch has decided to give her a rest for now.” At this statement, Julis smirked. “Is that so,” was all he remarked. As they walked to the West Tower, Julis remained smirking to himself. Gila was not sure she wanted to know why.

*****

The girl opened the door when she heard the knocking. She sighed inwardly when she saw Julis and Gila. She thought they had brought another Potential, but it was not true. She was happy about that. She smiled as they came in, and closed the door behind them, hoping that no one else would be coming in.

“How are you today?”

She simply smiled at Gila’s question as if she were mute. Gila sighed and sat at the table that was before the hearth. Kipsen had made sure that there was enough wood here to last the girl forever if need be. Julis simply curled his lip at her. “Can’t you even respond normally?”

“Yes I can,” she said in an even voice.

“Then learn to do so more often.” Julis rolled his eyes.

“Julis!” Gila’s admonishment did not go unnoticed by the girl. She placed a hand on her breast and felt the familiar tug of the warmth. Julis gave her a strange stare and she immediately dropped her hand. “Ignore him. He’s been a bit odd lately.” Gila’s idle chatter suddenly snapped something in her mind.

… a bit odd…

Julis smiled benignly. “What ever you say. Why are we here again?”

Gila shook her head. “So that this girl doesn’t think that we are trying to kill her is all, we are comforting her!” Julis rolled his eyes at Gila and the girl almost giggled.

“You mean Liseth over here?”

… Liseth…

The name tugged at her memory. “Yes I am talking about her you fool! Who else would I be talking about, your mother?” Gila snapped at the boy in front of her, the girl was not paying that much attention though anymore. The feeling of warmth had come back to her again now. She heard Julis’ voice, “Was what happened to Manion ever discovered?”

…Manion… that name sounded familiar…

“No, bless his soul, I’m not sure if we ever will hear of him again.” The girl heard Gila sigh again. She stood up and both Gila and Julis noticed.

“Julis… the heat,” was all she could say and Julis’ eyes widened. “Julis help me.” There was pleading in her voice, though she knew that it was not originally there. Julis continued to sit there and gap. Gila looked on with shock. The girls breathing began to grow faint and then turned into a pant. She placed both hands on her chest and her bosom heaved under an exaggerated deep breath.

“The heat, it’s so… hot… the Rose.” At this, Julis stood up immediately. “Did you say the Rose?” She nodded wordlessly and vigorously to his question. The room blurred for a moment and then Gila was on her feet as well. “We should go get Kipsen, we need another witness for this.” As she made for the door, Julis began to turn to her follow her, when the girl grabbed his wrist. “Please, no don’t. I think it is reacting to you.”

At this, Julis began to gap again and then his mouth turned into a devious smile. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she would soon find out. Gila shook her head. “It’s too dangerous.” Julis ignored her and placed a hand on top of the girls heaving chest. The girl wrapped both of her hands around his wrists. “Please, it hurts.”

Julis was smiling while the girl thought over the lie she had just told. What she was feeling was almost like rapture. It was flowing through her and the warmth and the heat was so pure; she could taste the words she was supposed to say, but she heard other words first. The first thing though was the shriek.

“Julis no!”

“She told me it was reacting to me, so I’m going to draw it from her!” he smiled viciously and then spoke aloud, while her head buzzed, she could almost barely hear him. “Power of the hidden and abandoned Rose,” She could feel a wind gathering around her ankles and slowly forming around her and pulling itself upwards. She continued to grip onto his wrist, holding his hand pressed against her breasts.

“Power that is hidden within this vessel, Head me, your new Master and come forth!” The words were different, but they conveyed meaning. She opened her mouth and then said, “This power is not yours!” Her eyes glowed with an intense green light and then Julis was slammed against the wall of the tower. “This power is not yours to claim! It is still claimed by another!” Held in midair, Julis’ body slammed into the tower wall again and cracks appeared against the stone. He tried to scream but was once again slammed against the wall having the wind knocked out of him.

She threw her head up as the wall collapsed behind him. Rocks fell into the courtyard below and Julis almost fell to the ground, if Gila had not caught him before he fell out the hole in the wall. The sun shined into the small room and a stray wind blew across the room, stoking the fire till it had by chance, caught to the wood pile next to it. It burst into flame. The girl’s chest heaved once and then she spoke what had been on the tip of her tongue since she could remember.

“Power of Theos that sleeps within me; power of the sacred Rose; head your Master’s call and come forth!” At that moment, Gila’s own jaw dropped as she let the unconscious Julis slide to the floor. The girl swooned back and into the arms of someone she knew… Manion; that was his name! She smiled at him and he pulled the sword straight from her body. She saw Gila’s eyes bulge. Manion was tall dark-haired, and built like an ox and was now calmly walking down the stairs. The girl paused for a moment and then ran after him calling his name.

*****

The first thing she saw as she was looking at the West Tower, cursing the girl was the stones fly into the courtyard below. Ceril put a hand up to her mouth and for a moment, a maniacal glee spread across her face as she thought that the girl might be dead. Then she remembered that she had just sent Gila up there. Then she recalled that she had told Gila to take Julis up there. For a moment, horror spread across her face, in a mixed up jumble of emotion. That emotion soon turned to rage as she saw a figure grab another one that had almost fallen out.

“She did this,” was all she could whisper in a strangled hiss to herself. Ceril began to seethe with rage. She instantly rushed out towards the hall and yanked both of the doors open with such force, that they both slammed on either side of the inside of the study. The sound of both doors crashing into the walls echoed down the hall. A serving woman who had been coming to bring Ceril her lunch on a tray was startled and dropped the tray to the floor with a clatter.

Ceril whirled on the girl with anger in her eyes. “You clumsy little fool! Pick it up!” As she began to walk by she placed a well aimed kick to the girl’s side and walked on. “Get out of my way,” was all she said as the girl fell to the ground in surprise. Red trailed behind her as the dress fluttered silently in her wake. All who stopped to pass here paused to make cursory nods and bows as well as pleasantries, but Ceril didn’t hear any of it. She continued to stride down the hall towards the West Tower.

*****

The teacups on the table rattled all of a sudden, and Oraclé casually turned her head towards the sound. With all the grace she could muster, she stood up from the chair that she had been sitting in and then left her apartments. She walked down the hall calmly and soon reached the statue of justice in time enough to hear snickering.

“What the devil did you two do this time?” The snickering stopped long enough for Rellis to turn a single eye upon her and Dinia to fix her hair. “Oraclé,” Rellis said in reverence. She turned and nodded to his acknowledgement. “What is this all about? What just made this entire house shake so much?”

Dinia smiled rather smugly. “Oh but didn’t you See what happened? After all, as the mighty Oraclé, all you have to do is look and you will know.”

The woman in white whirled on the girl in front of her. “Why couldn’t you have been a little nicer like the last ones? You know very well I didn’t see anything of the sort. Tell me now, or your mistress will have to find herself new heralds.” At this remark, both Dinia and Rellis stiffened.

“Now Oraclé, there is no need to go making threats,” Rellis tried to soothe the egos of both women at once. “Shut up Rellis, you are just as bad as she is,” Oraclé jabbed a finger in Dinia’s direction. “Tell me what happened. I hate sitting around here and bantering for no reason. And I am half blind, not deaf. Tell me now!”

“There has been an explosion in the West Tower,” Rellis replied. “Ceril made an announcement that the House Guard is to be collected at once as there is… a dangerous woman, on the grounds.” At the last part of his statement, he smiled rather crookedly. Oraclé’s eyes widened for a moment. “Dear lord, you don’t mean the girl do you?”

Dinia shook her head rather vigorously. “Oh yes, Ceril means the girl. No one knows that she has the sword however. The West Tower has also caught fire. A bucket Brigade has been called for all the good that it will do.”

Oraclé swore softly to herself. “She’s going to get that girl killed isn’t she, so that she can have the Sword… oh Goddess! Even if she burns down House Theos around our ears!” Oraclé turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. “House Guard,” Dinia murmured. “They are probably going to search for her now,” Rellis countermanded. Oraclé picked up the bottoms of her robes and then turned to the two that were standing behind her. “Well don’t just stand there, hurry up and follow me! We have to stop this now.” The two looked at each other and then shrugged as they followed her indifferently.

*****

Ceril strode down the hall defiantly as she smiled to herself. She had called the House Guard together to hunt down the girl who was now free of the West Tower and was going to just kill her. ”Who needs to have her hold the sword? Once I kill her, it will move on to another. Doesn’t matter who, everyone in this house is so easily manipulated; it would be a surprise for me not to get it.”

As she ordered a small section of the Guard to go down the passageways towards the North Sector of the House, she smiled at a particular thought. Manion was ever the pragmatist and always followed what ever Ceril said to the letter. It was too bad that he was not here to witness what his listening to her was going to do. She laughed out loud as she dispatched another section of the Guard down another hallway.

The Girl would not leave the House alive.

*****

She could feel the power rise through her as she descended the staircase. She could feel the ebb and tide of the power as it flowed through her body and followed the trails that it made as she followed the man whom she knew to be called Manion. “Manion,” she called out to him as she continued to see him just barely out of her site. “Please stop and wait for me!” The man did not stop and continued to walk down the stairs just out of sight. She struggled to keep up with him, as he didn’t appear to be running but walking briskly.

As she reached the bottom step she took a better look at him and noticed that he was bathed in a blue light. The clothes that he was wearing were the same as the clothes that the other men who had come to visit her were wearing; however, he had a single sash around his waist. He turned around and as she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but an expanse of blue. Deep searing blue, and her mind jolted and a memory of this man smiling at her and calling her name…

… Liseth…

… Her name was Liseth.

“Manion!” He turned around and so did she at the sound of boots from a man dressed in red and white rivalry. About seven men followed behind him with swords drawn. Manion slowly turned around and brandished his sword in perfect stance, on hand behind him and the other holding the sword aloft. “Manion!” All the men turned to look at the girl who had called his name. The man in front spoke. “That must be her; she must be the girl that the Matriarch was talking about.

The girl shook her head and tried to remember the man who stood in front of her, but nothing came. She shook he head and cried the name once more.

“Manion!”

At that instant, the guards moved forward and so did Manion. With a lunge Manion dived at the first man in front of him. The girl shook her head; but it was too late. With a slash down the man’s center, the man collapsed to the stone floor with an open wound on the front of his armor. His eyes opened wide as he sunk to the floor, collapsing on his knees. The guard had a look of surprise on his face as another of the guards came forward. “No stop please!” She didn’t want this to happen. She didn’t want Manion to do this, he shouldn’t be doing this. She cried out again as Manion lifted his sword to block a strike from the man in front of him and then swerved as a man behind him tried to thrust at his abdomen.

A single parry and the man’s sword went through the other one, skewering him. The guard looked up and tried to strike once more, but Manion ducked out of the way under the sword, and spun to the right as the sword fell on top of the other guard and slicing into his shoulder. The guard snarled and pulled his sword out of his fellow swordsman and then spun his sword in an arc in an effort to catch him. The intricate sword that Manion held in his hands sliced directly into the air to parry the movement.

The guard pressed his attack, locking hilts with Manion and forcing him to stay on one knee as another guard charged him. Manion took his legs and place a well aimed kick to the guard who was trying to keep him occupied and managed to hit him in the leg. He guard buckled and managed to loose his handle on the sword and had to readjust his weight. Manion took advantage of it and dropped his guard long enough to slash the guards knees as he tumbled forward with his sword. At this point, the girl… Liseth… closed her eyes.

*****

Ceril had been waiting in her office for the result of the guards when she saw Oraclé walk in instead of guards. Ceril stood up immediately and was about to say something when she saw Gila walk in after her, her dress in tatters, smudge marks from the smoke all over her. Gila stumbled forward and then tried to bow, but almost fell. Oraclé stepped forward and helped her.

“Matriarch, the girl has, Liseth,” Gila paused a moment to cough. “She has escaped through the front door. She took out half of the House Guard. She still has the Sword of Theos with her too. All of the Men reported though that she continually called out Manion’s name the entire time.” Ceril shook in rage and slammed both hands on the table in front of her.

“I want her found and I want her dead.”

Oraclé shook her head, and the West Tower burned.

Clarifications

2004-01-10T04:33:21Z

This is just a Note.

As a clarifier, I would like to say that on the tale of “The Phantom Rose” everything that is told within Italics, is told from the point of view (or at least is translated as) of Liseth. All else is in everyone else’s world. This is due to the difference in nature that she sees the world and due to the fact that she still suffers from amnesia.

Phantom Rose Part 3

2004-01-07T05:03:46Z

She sat down politely in the chair that was sitting in the middle of the room, dressed in one of the better dresses that were in the wardrobe. Gila had promised her some company and she did not want to disappoint. It had been two days since she had been moved and begun to be treated better. Gila had brought her a breakfast tray in the morning and told her that she should be dressed to receive visitors after she had eaten.

She had smiled and said she would be finely dressed that day. So she was as well, dressed in a deep purple and along the hem of the dress, a knot of thorns had been stitched as well as along the ends of the tight sleeves. It had taken her a while to dress as there were many buttons along the sleeves. The sleeves were tight and cling to her forearms, yet the buttons stopped right at the elbow. She had been glad for that. Unfortunately, they had been along the underside of the sleeves, and not the top. She had to button each by hand by herself. She had also managed to button up the back of the corset by herself as well. Along the tall collar, there was another missing patch, as if something had been there, but was no longer. She had thought about it briefly but no more.

She now sat at the small table near the hearth in her room. The fire had been burning quite cheerily and the onset of Autumn was coming as she looked through the small window at the tower she was in. She had not met with very many other people besides Gila. She was just now also realizing that the tower in which she was staying in was just a prettier prison. She sighed a bit, but she stood up to look out the window. She thought that she could see the horizon of water, but she wasn’t sure.

At that moment, there was a gentle knock on the door, and she spun around on her feet. There in the doorway was the woman Gila and three other men. A fourth man burst into the room after them all looking frantic. “Where is she? Is she really in here?” At this, the man laid eyes on her. His dark green eyes seemed to pierce her through the soul. She paused for a moment and he rushed over to her, in a flurry of crème colored clothes and black hair.

“Oh dear gods in heaven, you are safe and alive. Oh Liseth, I am so happy you are alive.”

A tumbler clicked in her head as he kneeled on one knee and kissed her hand. There was a sudden flickering in her vision as she suddenly thought she remembered something.

Liseth…

Her eyes widened as she looked at the man in front of her who was now kissing her hand tenderly. She felt an intense pain in the back of her head, a deep throbbing. Gila was suddenly there and grabbing the youth by his collar.

“Lithan what on earth are you doing?” Her voice was high and she jerked him to his feet. All in one motion he stood up and she slapped him. “What on earth is wrong with you? Accosting her like that. Are you out of your mind?” The boy looked hurt for a moment till she heard another voice.

“He’s half out of his mind the besotted fool. We all know what his mind is on after all.” This came from a curly brown haired boy with dark brown eyes. His arms were crossed as he walked over to the hearth and stood there. He was dressed in the same tunic, pants, and boots. She looked at the other two men, one exceptionally tall and the other of an average height. The tall one had black hair as well, but green eyes. As for the other, he had brown wavy shoulder length hair and very strangely distant gray eyes. They eyes however seemed familiar.

Another memory, this time of a man with gray eyes hit her. She grasped at her chest and looked directly at the ground. “What’s the mater dear?” That was Gila’s voice, and it sounded worried. She refused to look up. “Are you okay?”

Liseth…

Grey Eyes…

Liseth…

The man with the black hair moved forward towards her. “Here now child, there is nothing to be afraid of. My name is Kipsen. Kipsen Theosin. We are only here to talk and maybe,” he was cut off by the other boy he was with.

“Kipsen, please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” The man who was standing next to him looked annoyed at the girl. “Let’s get this over with please.”

“Jullis,” began Kipsen, but he was cut off with a wave of the hand. “I am sorry sir; it was only my prerogative to get this over with.” Julis smiled at her and she thought that it was a bit false at that moment. She tried to smile back, but faltered and then failed to do so. The boy named Mikel walked over and placed a hand on Kipsen’s shoulder. “I guess we should start then,” his voice was very gentle.

Kipsen nodded and then turned to Lithan. “Since you… you just get to go first. It’s only right.” The girl suddenly had a very bad feeling, something was not right. Lithan walked over to her and then spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry if this seems like it’s a bad thing, but I know that if you could remember, you would be all right with it.” The girl looked wide eyed for a moment and then looked to Gila. Gila simply looked to the floor.

Lithan placed his hand up into the air, until it was hovering just an inch above her bosom and then spoke in a loud clear tone, “Power of Theos that lies in this vessel, Power of the Rose; I ask you now to come forth to this supplicant so that I may be your new master.” The words sounded familiar for a moment and then there was a sudden tingle that she felt as a shiver went down her spine. Warmth gathered in her chest, just below where his hand was and then, it suddenly turned ice-cold. She gasped, and for a moment, a look of sheer hope filed Lithan’s eyes.

Then the world exploded in a light of color.

White light poured out from her chest under his hand and then there was a loud sound, like a crack of thunder. Her eyes widened in fear. Gila, in an effort to try to leave, tripped over her own dress and crashed straight into Mikel. Tarth took a few steps back and froze against the wall staring in abject horror. Kipsen tried to stand his ground and watch, but fear showed in the back of his eyes. The only one who looked bored was Julis. He stood there staring on and even yawned for a moment

The next moment, Lithan crumpled to the floor.

“Looks like it’s not for him,” Julis suddenly spoke shattering the silence from a moment before.

“This is not something to be snide about Lithan,” It was Mikel who rebuked him. Kipsen still did not move. However, it was Tarth who frowned and then strode forward angrily pronouncing the same words that Lithan had just uttered. He placed his hand directly on the girl’s chest and then said, “The sword is mine Liseth.” She shook her head no and before she could say anything, Tarth was thrown across the room as the same light and sound engulfed the room once more. Mikel was shocked as much as Gila when he soot up and said, “This is enough.”

“On the contrary Mikel, just try a different set of words. I am sure you will get it along. After all, don’t you want to be the master of the sword?” Julis smiled rather falsely again ad Mikel ground his teeth in a sneer. “Some would value their lives better than that Julis.” The girl looked to Gila and said her name in a strangled voice, almost like a plea. Gila looked at her like a woman who had lost all control and it was then that the girl realized that Gila was not the one who was in control.

A single named snapped into her mind like a bullet. Ceril; the woman who had imprisoned her. She almost broke into tears when she heard Julis’ voice again. “Well, then, Mikel, let me tell you that you need to ask the sword itself and not the power.”

“And you know this how?” Skepticism filled Mikel’s voice.

“I don’t, but after seeing how those two tried to force it, maybe you should ask it…”

Mikel nodded brown curls and then walked over to the now frightened girl. Tears began to stream down her face as he grasped her shoulders. “I am sorry I have to do this.” The girl mouthed a silent no and then began to sob as he placed a hand on her chest. “Power of the Forgotten Rose, I ask of thee to come forth and find a new master…” Mikel could say no more however as he was thrown back almost immediately. No light, just the sound crashed through the room. He slammed right directly into the wall and splitting his head open. Gila cursed as the girl fell to her knees and began to bawl.

“This is not what I signed on for Gila.” Kipsen had warning in his voice. Gila shook her head. “I don’t understand what it is that could be causing this.”

“I do.” Julis stepped forward and then knelt towards the girl, encircling her with his arms. She grasped tightly onto him, hoping he would not do the same. Kipsen raised a single eyebrow. As the girl continued to cry, Gila stomped her foot. “Well out with it, or are you going to leave us in the dark?”

“The sword still deems her worthy of being the Sword Mistress, it’s as simple as that.”

“Oh, that’s a load of horse…”

“I think he may have a point Kipsen.” Gila cut him off before he made the expletive. Kipsen had a sudden look cross his face that the girl could not explain, but she noticed that he didn’t push what ever it was that Gila and Julis were talking about. She was glad. “Help me drag these idiots out of here Julis,” said Kipsen. Gila even came and helped a bit, but when they were all gone, the girl was happy.

*****

Ceril had no idea as to how she was supposed to explain the conditions of three of the House’s best Potentials. She had done her best to assuage the rumors going around. She had it passed around that the three of them had been on a special assignment but that it had gone awry. As to what the assignment was, no one knew. However, the West Tower did not come up once in all the speculation for what it was worth. Only a few minutes earlier, she had thrown Gila out of her study in disgust.

She looked out the window in her study as she thought about the three Potentials. Tarth was one of their better swordsman in all of House Theosin. Mikel was rather smart all on his own, a brilliant tactician. Then there was Lithan, the most unlikely of all to be on a special mission of any sort. She cursed her fate as she looked at the West Tower. “I wish you would just die,” she muttered to herself.

“I think that would be most unwise Matriarch Ceril du’Theosin. Words still carry power in this age.”

Ceril’s eyes narrowed as she struggled to place the voice she heard behind her. Then she snarled out loud, “Oraclé. Why must you torment me now, of all times?” She turned around and in front of her stood the woman dressed in her eternal white. The white robes were immaculately bright in the sun that was pouring through the window, and only served to irritate Ceril more than she already was. What she didn’t need at this time, was a crazy woman in her study.

“I am not here to admonish you my dear, but to warn you.” The voice within the hood was the same as it always had been, concerned, yet condescending at the same time. It made Ceril Sick as she stared at the blind woman and her white hair, which hung in a thick braid out of her cowl. Ceril sneered at the woman again, the distaste she had for Oraclé coming off in waves.

“You would do that wouldn’t you old hag.”

Oraclé didn’t flinch at the words, but neither did she shy away from the subject as Ceril turned her back on her. “Thinking like I am not here will not make me go away Ceril’istha.” Ceril’s eyes open wide as she heard for the first time since she was a small child, the usage of her full name. Her voice went into a hiss, “Don’t you ever call me that again you crazy old bitch.”

“You forget yourself Matriarch…”

The condescension that the Oraclé had in her voice set Ceril off again. “Say what it is you came to say and then get off the property that is House Theosin.” Oraclé stiffened. “I don’t know how it was that others in the past dealt with you, or how it is that you manage to live so long when you should be dust,” at this, the old woman flinched, “but if I catch you on the premise again after this, then I will personally have you killed on sight by the House Guard.”

Oraclé clasped both of her hands together in front of her and spoke in a clear tone, almost like a mother berating a child. “What you are doing is unmistakably stupid. Continue with what you are doing, and I am sure you court disaster at the hands of that girl.”

Ceril remained behind her desk staring at the old woman. “What girl are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I am talking about Matriarch.” Oraclé used Ceril’s title just as it was to her, meaningless. Ceril saw the threat behind her words and placed both hands on the desk in front of her, so as not to suddenly attack the old woman from across it. She knew that if the woman stayed much longer, she would bay for her blood and try to kill her. She hated Oraclé not only for what she could do, but for what she had done when she was younger.

In hopes of learning faster weather she would become Sword Mistress, she had asked Oraclé weather or not it would happen. In Short, Oraclé had told her that she would always be near it, but never able to grasp it. Ceril had gone away from that reading, determined to change her future. In the end though, Oraclé’s prediction had come true. She had hated Oracle ever since Manion had taken the sword. She resolved after that, never to deal with the woman ever again. Until now, she had kept that vow.

As if sensing the problem, Oraclé spoke in a soft tone. “You must stop this madness. Three of your best are now broken, and you don’t know if they will return or not. You still don’t know what happened to the original Mangus Master, and already, you try to temper the sword to someone else.”

“You are making me sick old woman… enough.” Ceril’s voice was dangerously low.

“You must stop this before it gets out of hand Ceril’istha.” Oraclé continued to push her point.

“I said enough, get out.”

“You cannot force the sword from someone who it still thinks is worthy to wield it.”

“I said enough old woman.” Ceril’s voice became a demand.

“You cannot punish her for being what you could not obtain!”

“Shut up! I can do what ever I thrice-cursed well please to do! I am Matriarch of this House!”

“And the truth comes out.” Oraclé sighed. “You are playing God in a house that still remains Godless my dear.” Even after Oraclé said it, the meaning was not lost on Ceril. The saying had come from the time of the Twin Roses. That was when the Sword of Theos had split into two. Afterwards though, only one was ever able to be called again. Many thought that it was because of the fact that the wielders during that time had been twins.

Ceril could not have given less thought to it.

“Give it up Ceril. There is no use.” Ceril tightened her fists in anger at her sides. “Old woman, get out of here now.”

Oraclé had a look of genuine concern on her face as she spoke the last she would, “Stop Ceril. Stop this before it gets out of hand, for if you don’t then know that it will.” With that, the old woman left the confines of the Study of the House of Theosin’s Matriarch. As the door closed in front of her, Ceril turned around to look out the window across the garden at the West Tower.

*****

As Oraclé walked away from the tall doors that lead to the Matriarch’s study, she sighed in concern. She knew for a fact that Ceril would not stop. She knew that Ceril saw it as justice that the woman who took away the thing that she had most wanted in all her life was now under her power, and powerless to stop her. It made the old woman sad.

As she walked down the halls, that she had become accustomed to since she was a young woman, she came across the Statue of Justice. The likeness would not have been spotted by anyone else, but she knew the face that was on the statue of marble. The same face, yet different, was to be found all over House Theosin. She smiled and spoke softly, “How much your House has changed Lady Michelna.” She had only meant it to be in jest, but when the voice behind her spoke, she became cross a bit herself, even though she smiled.

“Why do you address her such?”

If you have to ask, then it is rather best that I not tell you.” Oraclé turned around to face Dinia. “What ever are you doing here my dear?”

Dinia smiled rather politely and then smiled rather predatorily. “Me? I am not here for purposes that you are thinking of obviously.” Dinia tilted her head a bit to the side and then spoke again. “However, why are you here?”

Oraclé looked at her with tired eyes. “I am here on business that does not concern you my read Raven.” At these words, Dinia bristled. Oracle continued however, “I can only assume that since you are here, your Brother is here as well?” Oracle said Brother with as much distaste as she could manage. Dinia brushed a stray hair from her forehead as she smiled again her predatorial smile. “You are correct in assuming such.”

“How long have you been here, Dinia is it now?”

“You know very well what to call me, now you are just being difficult.” Dinia looked extremely disappointed. Almost as if on cue, Rellis walked into the hall. He smiled, though nothing like Dinia did. His smile was colder than anything else. Oraclé was used to it now though. His smile did not send a shiver down her spine as it had others in the past, young and old alike.

“Why hello Oraclé, I hope all is well with you?”

Oraclé sighed and then spoke in a clear tone. “Both of you should go back to your master; now. There is much afoot here that bodes ill and makes little sense.”

Rellis smiled his smile and spoke with precision of a practiced speech, “But Oraclé that is precisely what we are doing. We are collecting information about this potentially volatile situation. WE are here to access the situation.” At this point, Rellis grinned, and Oraclé tried all too hard to restrain herself from wringing his neck.

“Fine then, but I assure you if anything goes wrong, you will have to let it play out before you take your claim.” Rellis nodded only slightly as Dinia grudgingly did the same.

Hunters Night Part 1

2003-12-18T21:44:21Z

Alright, I guess this story has been coming for a while now. I guess I should have written it a long while ago. But now the silence is deafening, and I should start somewhere non? These have been sitting in the vaults for a while; I guess I should be letting people read them now. The only name that has been changed is my own, so no worries. Enjoy it.
~ Yoakenomyoujou

I guess I was a bit nervous when I am around new people. I guess, it never shows, I tend to be either a bit shy, or a bit over show offish. The day I met Rose, I don’t think I was either. I was speechless. Actually, I should have been more careful as to where I was going. After all, when you run into someone, you don’t try to continue running. Then again, I was just tired of my life at that time. School was bad, and home life was worse. I didn’t want to be found and I didn’t want to be seen, and I wanted to go away from everyone, so very far away.

But she had stopped me. She had stopped me dead in my tracks with her words. Usually, when you run into someone, they say something discouraging, or even curse you. Not Rose. She didn’t have a bad thing to say, she just bent over to pick up the brown bag she had dropped and said, “I hope you get to where you’re going!” she said it without even a hint of malice and I was shocked I guess. It made me pause and turn around.

As I looked back, I saw her ungraciously chase an orange. Her hair fluttered by a slight breeze as she finally got it and put it back in the bag. She looked up and saw me and then said, “Oh? You are back already? That was quick.” I spoke to say that I was sorry when she smiled at me. “You must be absolutely exhausted from running all that way. Why don’t you come in and have some tea?”

I did a double take. Here I was standing and she was offering me tea. I actually felt really bad, and I couldn’t believe myself when I heard my voice.

“Alright, tea actually sounds nice.”

She smiled and then ushered me into a rather large house. The front lawn was trimmed nicely and a bed of the most beautiful roses I had ever seen were planted on both sides of the door. They had streaks of red and white in them and trailing up the side was a few small bushes. The door was a dark colored mahogany and had a beautifully carved Rose in the glass. At the top, it was blooming and a single petal was falling down as the door opened. I blinked and she smiled again.

“Come right on in.” Her eyes danced, and even though since I was a little child and told never to talk with strangers, I went into the house. The first thing that I saw was a large and ornate mirror. It was beautiful. It was at least larger than I was. It was rectangular, tall, and surrounded in gold. The corners of the mirror were covered in small cherubs and they were each holding small trumpets that were pointed in the four corner directions. Upon closer inspection, each corner had an affiliation to an element. Earth, air, fire, and water, were all represented by the cherubs. Along the sides of the mirror, coursed all manner of creatures that also represented the elements and at the top a man and a woman each held hands and stretched their hands to the sides.

The thing was extravagantly beautiful. It was a piece that singularly shocked, yet amazed me at the same time. The first thing I saw in it was I. I was never much to look at in my own eyes. Reflecting back at me I saw myself and I just stood there.

A mass of short dark curly hair was upon my head as I looked out from black eyes. My shirt was a bit tousled and the backpack strap that was on my shoulder was sagging with the weight of the backpack. My skin was actually kind of slick with a bit of sweat. My skin is a slight brown, therefore the red of me cheeks was just barely showing. However, the red of my cheeks was showing, and so one could understand just how cold it really was at that moment.

Rose hung her coat up on a hook that was by the door and turned a smiling face towards me. “Can I take your coat?” Her hair was a dark black and her brown eyes were smiling at me almost as much as her mouth. I shrugged off my backpack and placed it on the floor and handed her my coat. She hung it up and then said, “This way.” I followed her into a rather large living room. “Please have a seat and I’ll go make the tea. By the way, my name is Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She put out her hand and I grasped it firmly. “My name is Sean.”

Phantom Rose Part 2

2003-12-05T02:57:05Z

Another day had passed since the woman had come to visit her in her cell. She sat once again on the hard stone bench that was within her cell. They had been treating her kindly but she was now concerned. She still had no recollection of who she was, or for that matter who the woman claiming to be Ceril was. It was all muddled in her head. She slowly counted the number of days since she had been in the cell on her fingers. It was the twentieth day now. She sighed in spite of herself and shook her head. Gathering her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, she proceeded to cry again for nothing made sense at all.

*****

Ceril sat at her mahogany desk and smiled to herself while tracing the pattern on the center of it. Gila stood in front of her tugging her braid. By Ceril’s standards it was a horribly habit and very unladylike. By Gila’s standards, she found herself doing it only when she was around Ceril. Gila paused for a moment and then continued to do so. Ceril was smiling even bigger now. To Gila it was as if she knew what made her nervous.

“I just received a missive today. No one has found out if Manion is alive or dead. There are no rumors, no reports, nothing.” Ceril tapped the design of the crown and the sword with her nails and then began to trace it again. Gila paused to smooth her light blue dress down for a moment and then clasped her hands tightly in front of her.

“So then we do not know if he is still at large.”

“That is correct.” Ceril taps the design on the desk again. It amuses her as she continues to smile. Gila shifts a little to the left and then places all her weight on that foot. She dares not to speak out of turn, but now is beginning to tire of the waiting for it. “So this does not explain as to why we found her as we did. How did she come like that?”

“She was found south in Havenrest. It’s a small village that lies almost directly at the foot of the Sword. She was found alone. Two weeks and no one has come for her at all.” Ceril stopped tracing the design that had been carefully inlayed into the wood. She looks down at it for a fraction of a second and her smile turns into a frown of disappointment. “I never had anything against Manion, I just never knew it would end this way. He was easily manipulated. I was obvious all but from the beginning that he would inherit the sword. I just don’t understand. Ah, Michelna give me guidance.” She stood up and walked over to a portrait of a girl, which was in the study.

Ceril was wearing dark green that day, the dress was rather sparse and had no immediate decoration, and the only odd thing about it was that the sleeves continued on over her hands and then separated around her fingers and made it look like she was wearing a pair of shoulder length gloves that had all of the fingers cut off. The girl in the portrait though was standing in a traditional background of the main hall and held within her grasp the famous Sword of Theos; the power of the house. Behind her was the statue of Justice.

Ceril passed a hand over the oils upon the canvas and then stepped away. She looked at Gila with piercing Green eyes and then spoke in a clipped tone. “I think it is time that we get on with things around here now. I guess we should prepare her for the potentials to coming down. We shall have them go down to her one at a time. It will be perfectly all right. Gila, I want you to se to her being properly attired for this. I do not want it to be said that she was looking like a pauper.” Gila nodded at the command.

“Start assembling them in groups of twos and threes no more. They will be told separately so as no rumor can be spread over like wildfire. Very few people even know that we have her, so to be on the safe side, it shall be extremely difficult to keep it out of gossip for a while.” She turned her gaze from Gila and walked over to the large window behind the desk, which looked upon the House gardens. The sun haloed her form for a moment and then she turned back around and spoke once more, her tone quiet. “I am the head of this House now. I am the current Matriarch. I will not have it fall into disarray because of a simple fool who didn’t pay attention to the details of staying alive.”

Gila shiver as the tone conveyed the sense of ice-cold winds with it. Ceril grasped her wrists with both of her hands and then turned back to the window to stare over the gardens. “You may go Gila.” Gila curtsied as low as she possibly could letting too much time go by and then scurried out of the room. Ceril continued to look over the gardens.

*****

As she closed the door behind her, Gila rushed down the hall away from the House’s Matriarch. The woman could be scary, indeed, she had never seen her so intense before in her life. Though Ceril had not always been matriarch, she always did have the sense that one should be careful around her. At Fifteen summers old, Ceril had been chosen to be Matriarch by the previous Sword Mistress. The only reason she had been so was due to her nature at being ale to make sure everything went in its place and had a purpose.

The title of Matriarch was only for figurehead purposes, as she was Matriarch in only name. The true Matriarch of the house would always be the current Sword Mistress, just as the current head would be the Mangus Master. Ceril had always hoped that she would be the next true Sword Mistress; she had never given up on that hope, even when two successive ones had been chosen after her. She had tried even before she had gotten the position of Matriarch. After the first time, they had given her the title, and she had tried again.

The one who had replaced her the second time was now currently in the dungeons of the House and had lost all of her memory. Ceril refused to acknowledge that she had been chosen over by her. However, it was the first time that such an event had happened. That was what warranted Cerils sick glee. She was going to make the process as painful as she possibly could. Ceril was going to even enjoy every minute of it.

The thoughts made Gila shiver involuntarily.

She needed to find a new dress and begin informing the Potentials. In order to inform the potentials though, she would need a list of all their names. There were far too many. The ceremony would have to date back as far as the old days. Then, the House used to give it to whoever could conjure it up. Now though, the power passed itself from user to user and was instilled within them sometime during puberty. At least the potential to use it was intrinsic to anyone who was a part of the house.

Gila paused for a moment. Could it be possible that someone without Theosin blood coursing through their veins could have and control the power of Theos? It was not hers to answer and it was not hers to respond to. She continued down the hall in pursuit of her chores.

*****

She looked at her new dress. It was white and had a single rose embroidered on the baseline. The rose was done in expensive purple thread. She had received it from the girl named Gila, who had also given her water for bathing too. She had stayed around long enough to help her to dry and get into the dress as well. It swirled around her feet and she smiled in spite of what she had been through. Maybe it was a change from that strange and discerning woman named Ceril. Maybe she finally believed that she remembered and knew nothing.

Gila smiled. "I knew it would fit. It was made just for you." The girl looked up at Gila for a moment, and then smiled again. "I am glad that it was made for me. It is beautiful, though I know not how to repay you." A frown flickered over Gila's face and the corner of her mouth twitched when she smiled again. "There is no need. You will soon be having visitors. Ceril would not have it said that you were less than presentable."

The girl looked up and brushed her blonde hair out of the way and looked at Gila with a questioning look. Gila's face remained smiling. The girl let go of the dress with one hand and then took a step back. "Visitors?"

"There is no need to worry yourself, they shall not be coming until tomorrow at the earliest. However, now that you are presentable, I am here to take you to a better set of quarters than these," Gila motioned to the surrounding gray stonewalls. "If you would follow me, then please, by all means come along." The girl nodded her head once in a discreet fashion and then Gila knocked on the large door.

At that moment, a boy opened the door and Gila walked out. She paused in the doorway to turn around and the girl just stared at her. "Well don't just stand there, come along now! You have new quarters to be fitting out." At this statement, the girl just stood there until Gila grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the cell.

"Come along now."

The girl allowed herself to be led up a flight of stairs and then down several hallways and through two large rooms until finally they reached a corridor that looked like it had not been used for a while. Gila pushed open the door and the room came into view. It was large and spacious and was a much better improvement over where she had been staying. In one part of the room, a fireplace had a cheery fire going on and across from it a large bed, which was canopied as well. A small wardrobe; which had been left open, was also along the wall and contained several other dresses, all with the same purple rose embroidered upon them.

The girl turned to Gila and looked at her questioningly. “We had your measurements taken and made you several other garments to wear. At that moment, Gila refused to look the girl in the eyes. She refused to because she knew that she might tell the girl the truth if that happened. The girl looked at her puzzled and then smiled and ran towards the wardrobe and looked at all of the dresses in there. She smiled at Gila and Gila smiled back in slight relief.

“Thank you.” Gila tried not to notice the girl’s soft comment.

*****

Ceril du’Theosin smiled slightly as she walked down the hall. Ahead of her, she saw a boy who was walking with a purposeful stride in the same direction she walked. She watched his back for some times and then strode up to talk to the black haired boy. As she tapped his shoulder, he spun around rather surprised and then grabbed his chest as if to fain an attack. “Madame, you frightened me for a moment there.” Ceril smiled again, this time a bit more predatory than usual.

“I had not meant for such Lithan. I had only meant to get your attention.” The boys green eyes sparkled as he smiled and said, “Well now you have it. What may I do for you today?”

“Walk with me and keep me company as I have some interesting news.” Lithan raised an eyebrow to her remark, but said nothing. He fell in step with the tall woman and looked at her with rapt attention.

“It seems Lithan that we might be getting a new Master of the Mangus soon.” Lithan’s eyes widened.

“What? What about…”

“Manion was discovered to be dead, at least that is the report that was sent to me here.”

Lithan’s wide-eyed stare continued on. “What about his Sword Mistress? Is she still alive as well?”

Ceril made a carefully vague smile and then spoke. “It was said that she was dead too, though no body could be found.” A look of sheer horror passed across Lithan’s face. It was said that he had loved her before the sword had chosen her. “However,” she continued, “we just found her. She was in horrid shape.” The look on Lithan’s face changed to one of concern. “Is she all right? What does this mean now?”

“It means that we will have to find a new Master and Mistress for the sword.” Lithan looked back to the end of the hall, which led to the large statue of Justice in the Center courtyard of the house near the main hall. “I’m still at a loss as to why. Should not the sword choose its own new Master?”

Ceril bit her lip slightly so as to convey a bit of disappointment as well as concern. Lithan was so easily swayed that he didn’t know that she was calculating it all. “What’s the matter? There’s something else you haven’t told me.” Ceril made a heaving sigh and looked away from him. They were almost to the courtyard when she said, “The sword has not moved on and she has lost her memory.” Lithan stopped dead in his tracks.

“Her memory is lost? You mean she can’t remember anything?” His voice was low and had lost its original luster.

“Yes, I am so sorry Lithan. I know… I know what she meant to you.” He was looking at the floor as she paused and turned to face him.

“Lithan?”

“Is she well?”

“Quite, we have her in the old Halls.”

“She’s not allowed to have her rooms back?”

“We didn’t want to alarm the rest of the house by announcing it and we wished to have the trials of who would get the sword in private.”

Lithan looked upwards and then spoke in a low tone. “Don’t hurt her Ceril. I don’t care how high up within this structure that you are. If you so much as hurt her, I will be the last person you want to see.” He straightened up and began to walk towards the statue. Sitting by it was a girl who looked up at him and smiled. “Hello Lithan.” She smiled brightly at the black haired boy.

“Hello Dinia. How are you today?” his smile had returned and Ceril stood amused at how quick his emotions were apt to change. He would be one worth watching as the whole process continued on. At that moment, Dinia caught her eyes and smiled rather sharply. Then Ceril noticed it wasn’t a smile, but more of a promise of something dangerous. For the first time in a long while, Ceril shuddered, but not for the chill on the air. The smile, though cold in of itself, made her feel uneasy.

Ceril returned the smile and then continued upon her way. She would have to talk to Gila about that girl, because she didn’t remember at that moment for the life of her, where she had come from.

*****

Gila bit her lip as she tried to explain to Mikel what she meant. “Please just listen to me. You are not allowed to tell anyone.” The curly brown haired boy shook his head, ringlets shaking on their own along with his head. “Will they not find out by the time we are done and the sword chooses a new master? People will get concerned. That and how can people not know. This is House Theosin. People know everything by the end of the day.”

Gila suppressed a groan. She had been arguing with him for the past hour at least. Mikel thought of everything that could possibly go wrong. That was the reason she had decided to tell him first of the situation as Ceril had asked her to do. This was supposed to be simple, but Mikel never made anything simple. “Mikel, please. If no one tells we will be able to keep the whole transference under wraps. No one will know until afterwards.”

He crossed his slender arms on his chest. “Then when the new Sword Mistress is chosen, what will you do then?” Gila fought the urge to strangle him at that moment. Her hands tightened at her sides.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it already is Mikel. Don’t make me ask Ceril to help you keep your silence.” She hated to say such things and she closed her eyes immediately, because she knew the horrified look that would cross his face and that he would be silenced immediately. It was not her idea to intimidate in Ceril’s name, but so help her if she had to…

“All right then. I will not tell anyone else. You have my word Gila. Now please leave me alone. He slowly turned away from her and pointed to the door of his chambers. Gila sighed and opened her eyes. He was not looking at her. She stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and crossed to the door. “I’m sorry that it has to come down to this.”

“Not as sorry as I am that is had to be like this at all.” Gila winced at what he said knowing that it was true. She opened the door and stepped into the hall quietly closing it behind her. It made a soft thunk before she sighed out loud. She pressed her head to the cool stone of the walls next to the door and closed her eyes, trying to soak up some of the coldness as she was entirely too hot and warm. At one time she had loved Mikel. Now she could not love anyone. Mikel knew what Ceril was like, knew what drove Ceril to do the things she did, but he would never forgive Ceril for forcing her to choose as she had.

Gila shook her head as old memories threatened to cause tears. She stood up and took several deep breaths, passing her hands across her dress to smooth it out. She began to walk towards the next hall to talk with another one of the men, Kipsen. After him, she would go to check on the girl. Her duty now was jailer to the girl, as well as torturer due to what it was that Ceril had planned. She shook her head and then clasped her hands together as she continued down along the corridor. She turned to the left at the junction of the hall and continued on towards the practice grounds. At this time of day, it was almost always s certain that Kipsen would be there.

As she walked down a flight of stairs, she thought about how to word the request to him. How would she get him to keep silent? She most certainly could not threaten him by means of Ceril like she had done to Mikel. She knew that he liked one thing though, and that was a woman, or in some cases lots of women. He was known to be one of the most charming men ever to grace Theosin halls. He was the type of man Gila’s mother had warned her about.

She shuddered at the thought of having him paw her like a common wench or worse, a whore. She had to think of something that would keep his silence. As she reached the bottom of the long flight of stairs, she exited onto a rather large field that had been fenced in some areas and left free in others. There was even a track to train upon horses and the stables were actually quite close as well.

In one section of the field, there was a gathering of quite a few young men. They were all surrounding one of the practice circles and in the center of it; two men were fighting. Gila took a deep breath and then walked towards the practice field and began to push her way through the small crowd. As she did, she was finally allowed close enough to be directly against the wooden railing that marked the boundaries and saw in the center, with his shirt off and skin glistening with the sheen of sweat and tough swordplay, Kipsen.

Gila groaned inwardly and then clasped her hands together to watch the fight. Kipsen thrust his sword at his opponent, a think lanky dark-haired youth. The boy spun on a pivot and dodged the blow bringing his sword up with a resounding clang. Kipsen shrugged it off as eh boy tried to then swing his sword full circle and make Kipsen loose his own sword. Kipsen was faster though, as he parried, he pivoted and turned completely around so that his sword wound up on the other side of the boy and the boy brought his sword straight up to block it.

Kipsen dipped the tip of his sword underneath the youths hands holding the sword and then drew back to jab directly at the boy’s stomach. The boy twisted at the last possible moment and dropped the full brunt of his sword on Kipsen’s blade. The youths spun his blade in his hands and then ducked down towards the ground and rolled behind Kipsen and then brought his sword up to give him a blow to the side. Kipsen pivoted, but a little too late as the blade came down and his own sword, stuck up to parry was swung out of the way.

Kipsen through his hands up as the youth lightly tapped his shoulders. “I yield Tarth, I yield.” A loud cheering erupted from the other boys as they saw this. The boy, Tarth, nodded solemnly and then smiled. At this the cheers erupted higher and Gila had to push in order to prevent from being pushed into the ring. As the boys swarmed over the railings to congratulate Tarth, Kipsen looked up and saw Gila. He flashed a toothy smile and Gila almost blushed. She nodded her head and then stepped out of range of the ring. Kipsen nodded as well as if he understood and then walked to get his sword.

A few moments later, he had walked out of the ring, holding his sword, and still no sign of his shirt. Gila swallowed hard. He was chiseled and muscled like a god. His body was in perfect shape and Gila could not help but follow the trail of his muscles as well as the thin line of dark jet-black hair that went down his stomach from his naval to his pants. She suddenly caught herself and looked up into his green eyes, which were dancing with amusement. She felt her face go red.

He laughed lightly and then ran his left hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “Finally coming to see me Gila?” his voice had a hint of playfulness to it. Her face began to burn even more. “That is not what I am here for Kipsen.” The man shrugged and she shook her head.

“Is there someplace private we could talk?”

Kipsen pointed back to the boys. “They won’t bother us. With my reputation, then will probably think that you will be coming to my room tonight Gila.” Gila frowned, but her face was still a burning scarlet.

“These matters are important Kipsen, we cannot afford to play these trivialities as such.”

Kipsen’s mood instantly changed. “What is it? Has something happened? Is everything all right?”

“You could say that.”

“Gila, please tell me now.”

Gila looked into his eyes. “I cannot tell you until you first swear not to tell anyone what you hear from me. Orders of Matriarch Ceril du’Theosin.”

Kipsen snorted. “I won’t do anything that windbag tells me to do, I’ll do it in hopes of my getting my hands on you though.” Gila froze and then began to blush again. Kipsen laughed out loud. Gila tugged at her braid for a moment and then said, “Just say yes or now. If you say no then I can’t tell you.” She didn’t dare look at him. She heard his laughter go quiet once more and heard him say, “You are serious aren’t you?”

“Deathly.”

He raised a hand in the air, smiling and tilting his head to one side. “Then I swear not to tell anyone what it is you are about to tell me.”

Gila nodded her head once and then said, “Good. Here it is in short. Manion our Current Mangus Master is dead. Whoever attacked him and his Mistress, left his mistress alive and without her memory. She can’t remember a damn thing, not even her own name. Ceril wants a new Mangus Master chosen immediately and it to be done quietly.”

Kipsen cursed under his breath. “You are kidding right?”

Gila shook her head no.

“You are then going to have to explain this to me in quarters. I see what you mean by a place to talk.” Gila rolled her eyes.

Aubade

2003-09-16T02:29:11Z

He stood at the top of the hill, waiting silently. The darkness which had signaled the night was slowly being encroached upon by the now breaking dawn. He opened his lips and through them whistled a single beginning note. It cracked through the silence as even the birds were not singing the heralding of the morning. He smiled and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he began to sing quietly. His words were strange, different, but they slowly found purchase upon the air:

“How long have we waited,
To see the breaking dawn?
How long has it been since
The gentle light touched the earth?
Gently the sun also rises,
Spreading warmth to the land.
Slowly the dawn breaks
Orange red across the land.

As he sings, so does the dawn do so, oranges and reds pour over the horizon line, causing a shimmering affect upon the clouds there. The clouds yawn to accommodate the now rising sun. His voice picks up in speed only a little and he continues to sing:

“Only you have broken the silence,
As the morning comes to life,
The land all wake up to you,
Feeling all the glorious light,
I sing to my star of Morning!
I sing as it rises in the east!
Bid farewell to the Star that rules the night
And welcome the new morning.

The birds begin to wake and the flowers begin to open their buds and face towards the now rising sun in the east. The song of different birds begins to fill the air. Soon a cacophony of song reaches its crescendo as he continues to sing. This time though, he vocalizes as the sun rises further into the sky, bringing now a myriad of yellows into the sky and the faintest tinges of blue to rise as well. The sky blooms like a rose to the day; the petals, the clouds in the sky, the bud of the flower the very sun itself. His song soon continues minutes later:

“Thank you lords of the sky,
Thank you to the ladies of the dawn,
Another morning breaks in the sky
Because of your blessings upon us.
The rays reach down to us
Like fingers to caress our faces
To risen us from our slumber
And we welcome you into our lives
As well as into our homes
To welcome and waken our lives.

The boy continues in his vocalizes, now, each getting more and more powerful. The birds singing are singing almost the same tune he is as they begin to commingle their voices. His voice is powerful and surly someone is smiling upon him as the air begins to get warmer. The sky is now awash with color, the trees around him are greener than they usually are, and the flowers beneath him are open and turned towards the sun, feeling each and every gentle ray that shines down upon them. A gentle breeze flows through the small glade near where he sings.

“Thank you for this new day we see,
Thank you for the new things we shall experience.
We praise the dawn as we praise the day.
Lords and Ladies of the Dawn and Sky we praise thee

Sing do I of thee,
Sing I shall of thee,
Sing through all my days
Only your praise.

His vocalizes continue into the next refrain:

</i>“Blessed is this day that we have
The Dawn and Day which greets us.</i>

His tone changes then as he continues to sing, it takes up a more lyrical tone and no longer wishes to appease:

I laugh as you ride across the sky
Those cerulean skies of blue
Nothing hides itself from you.
For you blaze and you shine for us.
You greet us each morn as we greet you,
With smiling and bright faces.
You fill our days with bliss,
When we see your laughing eyes
We cannot help but to smile at you.
Obsidians golden are,
Washed in the sunbeams of purest joy.
Fill our lives dear sun,
With light and love this day,
Let your beams shine upon us all
As we show our live for this world.

The boy smiles at the last words and then clasps his hands together and finishes his vocalizes. At this, the sun has fully risen into the sky. He has been singing and vocalizing and feels a sense of calm about him. He smiles and then walks down the hill back to his home.

Weapon's Voice Part 1

2003-09-15T20:48:59Z

This story takes place in the land of Chorde, but before the events of the story 'A Tapestry of Chorde'. I hope you enjoy the story of the Weapon and his Voice. This story however, like much in the world of Chorde is a bit controversial, please read with an open mind.

~Yoakenomyoujou

PART 1

“A little de’curia for what ails ya?” The voice was sickly sweet with a tinge of actuality in it. Meloria turned around and looked at the little thin blond girl straight in the eyes and said, “Is it pure?” The girl gave a tight-lipped glare and said, “Well ‘a course t’is! Ya don’t think I would actually try to poison my customers do ya?”

“I don’t know what you do to your customers…”

“If ya don’t want none, then just say so ya crazy…” The girl began to walk away mumbling to herself.

“Fine, let me try some of what you have.” Meloria moved her own brown hair behind her ears as the girl produced a small paper package for her to look at. The girl motioned for silence as she quietly pulled out a small tray of silver from one of her pockets. Meloria looked at it oddly, wondering where she had been able to obtain such a thing looking at how she was more peasant than refined of a class of merchants or other such. She finally decided that it was due to the way she made her money.

The girl delicately placed the try in front of Meloria and then carefully poured a small amount from the paper packet onto the tray. White crystals ground into fine powder collected into a small heap upon the tray as Meloria watched. As the girl finished Meloria smiled.

She stuck out her pinky and at the same then looked to the girl in askance. The girl smiled and nodded and Meloria stuck her finger into the white powder. As she pulled it out, she stuck it into her mouth and the powder that was on her finger was gone in an instant. As she tasted it, a look of contentment flashed across her face and she nodded in the small, drug induced joy.

“How much for a couple of drams?”

“Not very much for ya ma’am, only a few silvers…”

Meloria thought about it. IT wasn’t everyday that one came across de’curia as pure as this; although where the girl had gotten it, she didn’t know. That was always the problem with de’curia; you always had to know where it was coming from. It you didn’t then it could always prove to be a problem. It was a wonderful drug, just recently discovered, but it was horrible once you were addicted. If you were addicted, then you would do anything for just a small bit of de’curia.

She didn’t intend to get addicted.

If she ever got addicted, then it would be the end of her as well as the things that she did in secret. Meloria nodded and then said, “How much for a full gram?” The girl smiled a rather large and winning smile. “A gold ma’am. Once ya try this, ya never go back. It’s a proven fact…” The girl had an indecent gleam in here yes, and it was that very statement that Meloria was concerned about.

“Well…” Meloria turned to the girl once more and looked at her. The gleam that was in the girl’s eyes was still there, the same gleam she didn’t trust. “Thank you, but not today as I am on more pressing business. Perhaps another time I shall buy some.”

The girl gave her a slight sneer, and then turned on her way. Meloria carefully adjusted her robes and made sure that none of her black robes were showing though her brown ones. She turned around to look at the man who was singing in the corner. The poor man’s voice was absolutely atrocious, and with what little power she had to see them, she could see that his notes were a broken-down copper. She shuddered to think of what would happen if he ever tried to enter Sylva College.

She looked over at the door, hoping for her friend to reach there, but he was not there yet. That was when she noticed him, the man sitting in the corner of the room. He had covered his face within the folds of his cowl and his thin gaunt frame was twisted slightly within the folds of the cloak which draped heavily on him like a tapestry that had no meaning. A tankard of ale sat in front of him; or what appeared to be ale. The window next to him showed the damp weather outside. The rain pounded against the window, and even though the lightning occasionally illuminated his dark figure, no one seemed to notice that he was there.

Meloria sniffed at him and then thought nothing of it as she continued to wait. She thought she saw a serving wench move through the crowd and pass by him, but it seemed that even she did not know that he was there. Meloria furrowed her brow at this. The man in the cloak was something else that even the serving wench did not stop to talk to him. Meoria shrugged inwardly and then continued on with waiting for the other person to come. She absentmindedly patted the case underneath her feet and began to become exasperated. Where was Malien?

As the man in the corner stopped singing, she suddenly thought that she heard something else in the air, floating along the light currents of other peoples conversations. It was very low, so low that she had to strain to hear exactly what it was. As she listened, she realized that it was coming from the direction of the strange cloaked man. She listened a moment more and then realized that the man was singing. Then she realized what it was that eh was singing; a Rune of Concealment.

He was trying to hide.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him harder. She could not make out the color of his notes, so there was no telling what exactly he was. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, clearing her mind. She then opened them and began to sing under her own breath. She focused the power of her song directly at him. As she sang, the obscuring dark cloak became lighter very slowly, showing the cloak to be not as thick as she thought it was. The vision obscuring spell he was singing was slowly beginning to break.

She refocused her chanting once more, even lower than she already had been singing and sang a small spell to hide her notes. Any who had been trained in the Song would notice them, so she immediately hid them as a matter of security to herself. Whoever was in the cloak however had not been versed such. She started again, this time no louder than before, and slowly the man began to focus in her minds eye. A gust of cold wind interrupted her halfway through though. Her throat constricted almost at once very slightly and she faltered and lost the song she was singing. Furious she turned to the door to see who had interrupted her rune rather purposefully.

For a moment, she had thought it was the idiot singer in the corner and she was ready to give him a piece of her mind. However, she stopped in mid turn and then quickly averted her eyes and her head dropped down. It was an Amberite. He was rather old and dressed in a long loose fitting robe of white. A beard protruded from his chin, long and thin and dark red, much like the long hair on his head. Though he was old, he looked quite spry for his age. His eyes were searching for something, but for what, she did not know.

Those damn meddling Ambers had no idea that they were so annoying either. The fact that they existed at all was odd. They all stood for the Harmony that was inherent within the balance and believed that they were the only ones good enough to wield the power. Their motto: If you didn’t beat your brains out to figure something out, then you probably never would.

She looked over in the corner and noticed that the cloaked person who had been sitting there was no longer there. The subtle rhythm of the person’s song was gone as well. She looked around, wondering where the figure went. The tavern door crashed open the rest of the way letting the chill breeze coming in from the drizzle making her shiver. A small group of Amberites were in the doorway now. One of them; who was dressed in the traditional white yet tight-fitting robe of an Amber, pointed his finger into the tavern and spoke rather loudly.

“Find him damn you! Don’t let him get away.”

She would have thought that he was the leader except that the old man who had walked in first nodded his head for approval. As they spread out, Meloria cursed under her breath. If she tried to sing, they would detect it. She was trapped. What a horrid way to be found out. Onyxians were still not in the good graces of the Ambers. Technically, this was Amber lands. An Onyx found on it could be in a lot of trouble.

Suddenly there was a crash emanating from the kitchen and a scream of, “There!” All the other Amberites ran toward the kitchen almost immediately. The first man in white beard paused as the others tried to catch who it was they were after. He looked around the room searching for whatever it was that he had been looking for originally and then moved out the door he had come in.

When all of them were gone and the voices of them had died down, Meloria let out the breath that she had been holding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy dart down the corridor towards the inn and the stables, which were located on the complete other side of the building from the exit of the tavern. She slowly got up from where she had been sitting so as not to catch attention to herself, and waked that way. Not that it would really matter at this moment. She picked up the small case and held it beside her and then hid it within the folds of her robe. She had been meaning to deliver this package that night, but it seemed unlikely that it would be delivered tonight.

Now that there were Amberites everywhere, there would not be another Onyxian in sight for several miles. Malien, who she was supposed to meet, had the tendency to turn rabbit at the mere mention of Ambers. He did not like them at all.

As she looked out towards the stables, she noticed that the door was wide open. Hurrying across the yard, she looked in and saw that one of the stalls was open and the horse and tack were gone. In the back of her mind, she made a decision to follow the boy. Albeit, with Ambers on his tail, he could use some help. Then again, with her tracking him, he would never get very far. The rain outside was growing steadily worse. At this rate, if the cloaked figure was not careful about where they rode, they could get washed away in a flood.

The skies were turning even darker than they already and Meloria knew that the poor fugitive needed her help. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew that they were in more trouble than it seemed. However, a small corner of her mind told her to run and get away from the Amberites. If they found her then it would be a pain to try to get away from them. As she quickly saddled her mount, Rills, she thought about what to do with the small package that she was carrying. When she finished, she placed the case in the corner of the stall and then sang a few notes. The light shimmered around it and the case appeared to vanish.

A simple illusion.

Satisfied, she quickly led Rills out of the stall and closed the door behind her and then sang a sharp b-flat as best as she could. The door slammed shut, stuck in place. No one would get into that stall now unless she released the spell.

However, people and not spells were what she had on her mind at the moment. She led the chestnut out of the stable and then climbed up into the saddle. As she kneed him slightly in the ribs to get him going, she saw a faint flutter of a white robe. She didn’t bother to turn around to see where the voices were coming from this time. AS she listened to the voice she was shocked.

“There he goes! Look! After him; hurry!”

As she urged Rills on faster, she realized that they had mistaken her for the person that they were looking for. She cursed silently under her breath and continued to urge Rills onwards. Behind her, she heard curses as men mounted horses and began pursuit of her. The rain battered down against the ground making it muddy and in some places dangerous to tread on. As it churned under Rill’s galloping feet, she hazarded a look behind her and saw the white fluttering robes chasing her down.

She reached into her sleeve where she had a hidden pocket and took out a small flute. She let go of the reigns and trilled a few notes on it to make sure that it was all right. The notes came out silver; she hadn’t been trying. Rills started to slow down, so she tapped her knees into his flanks and he began to speed up once more. She thought about it once more and then realized that she wouldn’t be able to play in the rain like this. There was no way to play the flute and keep up the speed that Rills was traveling.

She tucked the flute away back into the secret pocket so that it would not get too wet. After thinking for a moment, she realized that she would have to use a different form of her magic if she wanted to get away. There was no way around it. If she tried to slow down in order to play the flute, she would not be able keep up the pace she had now and she would be caught. She cursed her luck and tried to think about using magic again.

Meloria could hear the horses of the Amberites behind her, the pounding of the hooves being only second to that of the rain. The mud churned beneath Rill’s feet and she narrowly avoided a hole that was in the middle of the road that looked like an entirely too large puddle. Several moments after she passed it, she heard shouts as one man fell in with his horse. She smiled, but a flash of lightning temporarily blinded her. When her vision returned, obscured as it was due to the rain, she cleared her throat for what she was about to do. In her low alto voice, she sang the spell on her mind sotto voce, decrescendo:

By the blood of the Lady and Lord,
In the veins in my wrists,
Listen to this simple Chord
Hide me in the cloudy mists”

Her voice choked off almost instantly as she felt the power of the compulsion in the tone of the spell. Being trained by bards for that short time did pay off. She thought of her bard teacher for only a few seconds and then continued to ride on. The rain seemed to condense and she knew that she was hidden from sight. However, she knew she shouldn’t have used the power, now they would think they were chasing a bard. As she traveled on through the mist she sighed and shook her head. She hoped that the stranger would be alright wherever they were.

A Simple Upadate

2003-09-10T20:27:37Z

Pardon for the recent lag in the Arcivus. Kurojusu has recetly pointed out an infestation inside some of the older scrolls and we were therefore reluctant to bring them within the shelves. however, we have solved that by rescripting the Librams as carefully as possible and we are now once again ready to begin filling up the Arcivus with teh lore we have collected. We have found some ovlder tomes which were also languishing within the ruins of teh previous Arcivus. The Tales of the Mangus Master Talon are currently under a re-writing phase, so do not be alarmed. The orriginal tales are being restored by our Historians and they are taking a rather grand interest in them. They beleive that we have come across a rather grandios find.

As for me, I have been traveling a bit more and am glad to say that I have found yet another enigmatic Story from the Lands of Chorde. The New Story "Weapon's Voice" Takes place earlier than the currently running one "A Tapestry of Chorde". Albiet, we are having trouble translating it and therefore I appologise if that one seems to be slow.

Also a Fire occured within the old vaults and we have lost a few stories, mainly, about half of the Tale of Death. I am sad to say that untill new manuscripts come from the curernt home Vaults, the tale is on moritorium.

As for teh other tales, "Oracle" will still be continuing, the reason for the stop was because we had beleived that we had fouind a map of the climes upon that world and it was safe to say that it needed a bit of researching for accuracy. Needless to say, The tale shall continue and the map will soon be up. As for Sword and Bard, I am personaly seeing to it that it is placed upon the shelves no later than next fortnite from tonight.

I hope you will continue to visit. There is always more to see here.

On a side note, we have just received word that the Tale "Shadow Symphony" was indeed not in the original fire and that the manuscripts and scrolls that it rested upon were indeed saved. It is being transcripted now and shall soon be upon the shelves of the Arcivus.

Once again, if you have any questions, please feel free to leave a note with Kurojusu.

~ Yoakenomyoujou

A Tale for Ostara

2003-08-22T16:07:28Z

this is for Ostara of 2003.
~Yoakenomyoujou

I have made a tale for this day and it involves Persephone. I hope that you like it:

Notes:
Kore is another name for Persephone

Memnosyne is the River of forgetfulness and Lethe is the river of Memories. Styx is the river that surrounds Tartarus, the Underworld.

“Kore Darling, it’s time to go back. Time to go back to your mother.” The words came to her as she was lying upon her chase, lounging in the dark blue light that seemed to permeate the entire Underworld. She slowly pulled herself up; she was dressed in her black dress. She loved the color black. It made her skin seem to glow with a strange iridescence that made her all the more beautiful in the dark caverns of the life after.

Mind, it was not the Elysian Fields, but it too had a sense of happiness here. She looked to the man who had been her husband for the past six months. He stood there, also dressed in black, but in the light, his toga took on a more bluish tint that her dress did. Her dark painted lips looked much akin to a corpse as she stood up and kissed him full upon his own lips.

He was no different that any of the other gods. He was simply always in the wrong light. The absence of light made him appear all the more beautiful. He was much like his brother, Zeus; it was just that at night, he looked more beautiful. His fine toned musculature, his dark jet hair, and his sensuous lips, which had shone her more pleasures than she had known to exist. He too took great care in his appearance and also took great care that his queen would look good beside him as well. She was rather well taken care of down here in Hades dark world.

“It is time for me to leave your side already? Time seems to have flown quicker this time. I would not believe it if anyone but you came and had told me.” The remark brought a smile to his lips, but he did not say anything else. She slowly moved out of his arms and began to change her clothes for her trip back up to the surface. As she shed her dress in front of him, he remained to watch her. She slowly turned around and beckoned him towards the bed they shared for one last time before she had to leave.

* * *

As they lay entwined upon the sheets, afterwards, she remembered the event that had made her the bride to this man. He had come to the surface and in a fit of lust, kidnapped her. She had after all, been very pretty. He had then taken her to the underworld and kept her there. She had cried uncontrollably at first. She was inconsolable. He had tired every means he could to maker her happy. He had gotten her dresses, playthings, souls to talk to, he even tried to bribe her with food, but nothing worked.

Upon the Surface, her mother had gone sick with grief. She refused to do any of her duties, and the mortals upon the land had sent an up cry to Zeus. He had called her mother in and asked her the source of her grief. Without her daughter, none would be happy. They soon discovered that it was Hades who had taken the girl and had taken her across the river Styx and past the flowing river of Memnosyne and Fountain of Lethe. With all haste, Zeus and her mother took his chariot into the Underground that was Hades grand domain.

However, she had been there for some time, seeing as time in Hades seemed to go on forever and she was finally becoming hungry. It had been nine days that she had lain in the caverns of the mysterious king. While there, she had taken up with the old goddess, Heckate and she had been as polite as she could, not realizing at the time that Kore had not been brought down of her own free will. Heckate was more than happy that her lord Hades had found a bride in the most beautiful of girls.

Meanwhile, upon Olympus, Aphrodite and her herald Eros were shocked and amazed at the events that had happened over the past nine days. It had been a bet that Eros’ arrows were not as powerful as he had once thought them to be, and Eros was still smarting from his most previous clandestine relationships. It had not gone well for him and he was calling himself a fool to have pricked himself with his own arrows.

Aphrodite spoke to him and said that even though he had indeed been pricked, the Gods could not be affected. Lo and Behold, it was a wonder when Hades himself was seen coming out of the Underworld to see if the fight between Zeus and the Titans had damaged his underground kingdom. Aphrodite had pointed to him and told Eros that Hades had a heart of ice and nothing could melt it. Even Hera could love more than Hades was capable of.

Eros in a fit of rage at Aphrodite’s accusation had strung his bow, chosen the sharpest of arrows and hit Hades directly. His gaze suddenly swung as he tried to see who had shot him and had alighted on her. At that moment had been when Aphrodite and Eros had scattered. They were upon Olympus while her mother searched for her. It was never clear to them who had told that Hades had the girl, but they had never told of their part in it.

On her part, it was not all that difficult to figure out whom it had been that had caused it.

She had been stuck in Tartarus for nine days when finally, in a walk through a garden, she lost Heckate. As she wandered around, she found herself in a pomegranate orchard, and finding the fruit so deliciously ripe, she could not help but partake of seven seeds from it. However, when she got to the sixth seed, she heard Heckate and dropped the pomegranate. The seventh seed, clutched tightly in her hand, was never eaten.

The Pomegranate fell into a dark hole in the tree and Heckate rushed the girl back to the palace. There had been news. Already, it had been discovered that she had been kidnapped, and that her mother was making threats against the gods and all humanity. It was not that she did not care, it was just that she had grown tired of her mother’s over protectiveness.

They reached the palace and already, Hades and Hermes were to be seen and Hermes had a chariot waiting for her to be taken back to the surface. Unfortunately, at that moment, one of Hades’ gardeners came up and showed the pomegranate. He had found it while tending the orchards and it had seven seeds missing. In this, Hades took great delight, for anyone who ate seven seeds had to stay in the Underworld forever. It was then however, that Hermes had to go. He could not take her for it was by pact that this was declared. At that moment a missive from Zeus came and all were summoned to come to Olympus to decide the fate of the rest of the world.

While she had been missing, her mother had stopped tending to the earth that was hers to take care of. A bitter wind had ripped through the world at that time and nothing was growing any longer. A trial was set up to determine her fate and if had not been for the fact that she still held the Seventh seed; she would have had to remain in the Underworld for the rest of her life. Zeus forced her Mother and Hades into an agreement and it was settled that for each seed that she had eaten, she would stay a month in the underworld.

However, her mother spoke to the other gods that for half that time, naught would grow upon the earth and that for the other half, she would prepare to live in her temple for those three moths when she would turn her back upon the world. It was agreed upon and She had been released into Hades care for the allotted time. Afterwards, she would then go back to her mother and live with her for the remaining six months.

Now however, as she thought again upon those memories, she realized how odd it was. She had now changed her garments and dark makeup, which she wore while she was Queen, for the more festive colors that her mother liked. She turned to her love and kissed him once more as he lay upon the bed.

“I shall see you after I am done with my mother and I shall then come back to your arms and be your faithful lover.”

He nodded once more and then spoke to her in a sensuous voice. “Do make sure you visit Heckate before you leave.” She simply nodded in her understanding of the matter. “I shall wait for you to return to me my Queen.” She smiled at him and then said, “I shall return to you when I am done with my mother, but be sure to send the messenger.”

With that, she left his apartments and went to that of Heckates. Once there, the old woman of mysteries, whom Kore had blessed with all the knowledge of women in the night, guided her to the gates. She held out a cup and spoke. “You shall not remember as you were until it is time for you to return. We will send a messenger to you, so you need not worry. It will be as we always do. ” With that, She pressed the cup into Kore’s hands and she drank deeply.

The cup had been filled with the waters of Memnesyne, and at that moment, Kore passed out. She was then placed upon Chiron’s boat to travel across the river with Heckate. Once upon the other side, Heckate had a helper take her up to the surface and place her as the door to her mother’s temple. As the spirit vanished back to his home below the earth, her mother stepped out of her temple and rejoiced. Demeter wept with tears of joy and brought her daughter inside her temple.

As soon as she awoke, Demeter cried out, “Persephone, I am so glad you are awake, we have much to do.” The girl smiled and spoke to her mother. “Mother, I had the strangest dream…” Demeter smiled at the reality of things and spoke to her daughter. “I know, I know.”

I hoped you liked this tale and a Merry Ostara to all of you.

Dominos of Fate Part 2: Unfulfilled Destiny

2003-08-22T15:57:22Z

The halls of Amergin castle were very big in Torc's opinion. They were made of gray stone. A very hard substance these days, especially since all of the wooden structures could nowhere compare to this in the North. He had come from the North, where all had been made of timber. Now he was in the South where all the main castles were made of stone. If the South were to attack the North, the North would never survive against the South's onslaught.

That was why he was here though. He was to be the "peace offering" between the North and the South, a way to keep the South out of the North. Torc didn't like it one bit, but knew that he had to go. After all, it wasn't the boy's maid that his father caught him with, kissing. Torc was disgusted with himself. How could he do such a thing? He didn't want to be there more than anyone else was. He knew that it was a way to get him out of his father's site. After all, his father did have more sons; sons that were older, but it had been the youngest to disgrace him.

It sickened him.

It sickened him down to his very core.

As Torc walked through the halls, he began to hear fighting, the sounds of swords striking one another; practice swords though. He pulled his hand away form the hilt of his own sword. As he passed the place where the sounds were coming from, he saw a large octangular room. He paused for a moment if only to look and saw a boy and a girl sparring.

This was almost unheard of in the North. Were the people in the South also out of their minds, letting men and women practice together? Torc slowly gritted his teeth and then saw the boy for a second time. He was beautiful. Long raven black hair fluttered slightly every time he struck at the girl. He had beautiful green eyes too. Torc swallowed, as his throat became suddenly dry.

This was not supposed to happen. Not to him. However, that was the first reason his father had chosen him to go south and not one of his older, more deserving brothers. It was because of his attraction not only to that of the opposite sex, but also to the same. His father, in concern for Torc's welfare, as well as his young impressionable brothers, thought it wise to let Torc go. The first reason was so that Torc would not be cornered by a man and also so that his 'filthy preference' as his father had called it, would not rub off on his younger brothers. Torc rolled his eyes as the aide that was with him chided him for making the King wait.

When he entered the main audience chamber, he did not much pay attention to the king; instead, he paid attention to the raven black-haired spectacle that stood next to the throne. The boy from the eight-sided room was there. Torc's heart began to beat faster. He did not notice much else, but managed to pay attention to the king long enough to know that his name was Kallan. And he was the crown prince. That was enough to make Torc's heart flutter.

After the audience, Torc walked over to Kallan and noticed that he was just a little taller than the prince was. "I was wondering," began Torc, his eyes not looking directly into the prince's. "Would you mind sparing with me later?" The reply made Torc's head jerk up. "Sure." Torc smiled and said, "Do you have a specific place? You know, where you spar?" The prince shook his head and said, "No." Torc was slightly disappointed at this, but he said, "Then I'll see you later."

Torc knew instantly that there was something special about the octangular room, but wished to say nothing. He walked off and then used the rest of the day to look around. Three times he saw the girl in the Twin spire at Amergin castle. He found that her name was Allesia. Soon, he also found out that she was not meant to be in one side of the castle and that only he and the prince could stay on that side. The Sun Tower became his refuge from then on.

While he stayed near the prince, he often heard the Prince's door open in the night and then in the early morning open again. This was the first time that Torc knew that Kallan was sneaking out somewhere, and that it involved the girl some how. He vowed to find out what it was. He began to plot how to do it in his spare time. He could not follow the prince at night; no he was far too nimble for that, so he would begin spying on the two.
He began to watch the Octagon room and then one day, he heard it. He heard what it was they were doing.

"Do you stargaze?" Kallan asked, his melodic voice was music to Torc's ears.

"Yes, I do..." Allesia replied.

"Do you stargaze from the tower?" The prince had stopped now, so that his question could be addressed. Allesia smiled.

"No, The skies are dark from my tower. Do you stargaze Prince?"

"Yes I do."

"From the Sun Tower?"

"No, the skies are dark from my tower too."

"Then, my prince, shall we meet in the courtyard and see if the stars are still dark?"

Kallan nodded and Torc knew that he had him. Torc waited outside the door. As Allesia left, Kallan stayed behind. Tork slowly slipped into the room and pretended to be surprised at the prince. His shirt was off and he was sweating profusely. "My goodness Prince, what place is this?" Torc saw Kallan's head jerk up. "When did you get here?" The voice was tense in Torc's opinion, but he decided to go against what he actually saw. "Well, I saw the door open and then I entered. I saw a really pretty room and you."

Tork could swear that he heard Kallan let go of a breath. He waited for the prince to answer. "Well Torc, this is a place where I come to practice alone." Torc saw the lie, but said nothing about it. "Do you mind if I practice with you now?" Torc asked. The prince smiled and then sighed. "Sure, why not, I could use the practice." They both practiced well into the day, fighting each other the entire time. Torc could not help but stare at Kallan's body the entire time though. He found that he could not take his eyes off of the prince. It was strange to him, but he liked it.

Towards the end, Kallan's guard was down and Torc had the upper hand. He reached out and grabbed Kallan's wrist. Kallen faltered and then stopped in mid swing. "Torc," he said, "That's my wrist. Could you please let me go?" For a minute, Torc did nothing. Kallan tried to wrest his wrist away, but it didn't work. Panic hit his voice as Torc stood there, staring into his green eyes. Worry also struck those eyes as Kallan let his sword drop to the ground. "Please Torc! Let me go!" Kallen tried to get his hand out of Torc's grip with his other free hand. Suddenly, Torc saw the pain in the prince's eyes.
"No," he replied in horror. He let go of the prince's hand and then ran out of the room.

* * * * *

The next day, Torc was walking down the stairs to the main hall when he saw Kallan. He had just recently bumped shoulders with Allesia. He wanted to know what his prince saw in the girl, but hated her for taking the better half of Kallan's affections. Both saw the other and froze in their tracks. Torc rushed down the stairs, as Kallan turned and was about to leave. He reached out and grabbed Kallen by the hand.

"Wait!" he cried out. Kallen turned back around and looked at Torc with his green eyes. Fear was not there, but worry was, flashing in and out of his eyes. Torc tried to ignore it. "I'm sorry for what I did in the Octagon Room." He quickly let go of the prince's wrist. "I also have to tell you that I am... I am... well..."

"What is it Torc?" said Kallan, his voice twisting the very being in Torc's heart.

"I think that I am beginning to... to... to feel... for you." Kallen gasped slightly. "What do you mean?" he said. "I arouse an interest in you? Is that it?"

"No that's not quite it... it's just that..." Torc began to stammer.

"You want me to become your," Kallan choked for a minute and then said, "...your love-..." Torc cut him off almost instantly. "No that's not what I mean... I mean... just understand!" Kallen looked at him funny and then said, "But I don't understand what it is that I do to you."

"That's just it!" said Torc. "You know what you do though!" Torc cried out at him. Kallan looked slightly hurt.

"But how am I supposed to know about that? I didn't know! I swear!"

"I have told you though!" Now Torc was slightly upset. His eyes had furrowed in pain.

"What more can I do to tell you, to show you?" Kallan looked away, slightly ashamed, looking at the ground. Torc looked to the ground too. He then put a hand out to Kallan and placed it on his shoulder. "Please?" Torc said pleadingly. Kallan tensed for a minute then sighed. He slowly turned to Torc and said, "No, I cannot. I cannot do it. Not even for you."

Torc looked shocked for a minute. Kallan continued, taking Torc's hand from his shoulder. "I can't do it. I'm sorry." He gripped Torc's hand within his own. "I'm sorry," he said again. With that, he turned around and then walked off, letting go of Torc's hand and leaving him surprised. Tork tried once more, "Please!" he called out to the prince. When no answer came back to him, Torc fell to the ground and began to cry.

* * * * *

A few days later, in the Octagon room, Torc found the prince and immediately drew his sword. He charged Kallan screaming out. Kallan fumbled for his sword and tried to parry it and missed. Torc wound up fumbling his attack but turned almost instantly and both wound up fighting the rest of the afternoon nonstop. At the end of the practice, Kallan had had marks all over his body and lines of blood where Torc had struck him viscously. Torc walked over, dropping his sword on the ground and said, "Do you hurt? Are you in pain?"

Kallan nodded and then looked at Torc with green eyes that now had worry in them once again. "Why did you do this?" Kallan asked him. Torc let one of his hands come up to stroke Kallan's cheek, blood mixing with his sweat. He said, "I would rather hurt you myself than watch someone kill you." With that, he stepped forward and kissed Kallan full and on the lips. Kallan's tears streamed down his checks as Torc felt him struggle and then give in.

Suddenly, Kallan pulled himself away and said, "No, this is not right." With that, the prince ran out of the room.

* * * * *

The next day, Torc was walking in the gardens when he saw Kallan sitting on a bench. He held his breath and then rushed to go apologize again, when his voice faltered. He then said, "Kallan, I have something to tell you." With that, he walked over to a questioning look on Kallan's face.

"As the gods hear me, Kallan, Your good shall be mine, and your honor shall be like my own to me; and I will stand to it with my life."

With a down cast face, Kallan said in a low voice, "Don't be afraid, Torc, that while you are my friend I shall ever come to dishonor; for rather than be a shame to you I will die." Torc then placed his right hand on Kallan's and his left around his shoulders and then said, "May it never be less than this with us." With that said, Torc bent his head and kissed Kallan again on the lips. Kallan gave in only for a second. He began to struggle in Torc's arms and then tried to break free.

Torc grabbed Kallan by his wrist. Kallan cried out. "Let me go!" cried Kallan. Torc did not comply however. He continued to grasp Kallan's wrist. "Please," begged Kallan, "your hurting my wrist!" Torc held it longer and then let go, collapsing to the ground, sobbing. "No, please..." began Kallan. He then shook his head and sat down on the bench that he had been sitting on. Torc shifted his head slightly to rest in Kallan's lap. Kallan sat there, long fingers stroking though raven black hair. "I'm sorry." Kallan said.

Torc sobbed louder. "I didn't meant to hurt you," he said between sobs. "...You know I never could..." Kallan smiled slightly, weakly, and then sighed. "Yes I know," he said, "But I just cannot do what you ask. It would be a little too much. You know that. I might learn to accept it; but no one else would ever be able to." Torc sobbed loudly.

"I only said it so that you would stop and leave me alone." Torc sobbed louder.

"However, if it matters to you; I do love you, but not as you love me, for I love someone else like that." Torc lifted his head and then stood up. He slowly wiped away his tears and then said, "Whoever it is, I hope you find happiness with them." With that, he turned around and then walked off, while he was turning, he saw the flutter of hair, when he turned around the hedge, he saw the maid Jenny. Torc walked heartbroken in the other direction.

A month passed by and Torc continued to gain Kallan's attention, to try to get him to love him, but found that he could not. He continued to hurt Kallan during practice insisting that his reason was that he would rather hurt him than see someone else kill him.

However, deep in Torc's mind, he was punishing Kallan for choosing the other person. Then one day, Jenny came to see him. "You are requested to go to the Octagon Room by the king. He wishes for everyone in the Sun Tower to see."

"What is this about Jenny?"

"Kallan is to fight for his love for Allesia."

"What?" Torc suddenly realized whom it was that Kallan had said he loved. This enraged Torc that Kallan had chosen her, but he went anyway.

He looked at her with a grim determination when he stood in the Octagon Room. Hatred seethed openly through his eyes at her. She did not seem to enjoy it one bit. So he continued to do it. Kallan came up to her and then said something, but he could not make it out. Then he openly kissed her and said something else. Torc tightened the fists that were being held at his sides. Kallen quickly glanced at Torc, then prepared.

Allesia nodded and then they both stood in their starting positions. Then they both started. Kallan started with a tight thrust at Allesia's stomach. She dodged it easily and then parried the blow. She then swung around and thrust her own sword at Kallen. Kallan countered it and slashed her arm. She staggered for a second, clutching the wound. Kallan had really meant it Torc suddenly realized. He smiled, but only for a second because Allesia looked at him, who in turn looked at her grimly. Torc began to secretly hope that she would lose.

Allesia recovered rather fast and then spun around and struck Kallan, slashing him across his sword arm. He cried out, but only for a moment. Torc wanted to go to him, but couldn't. Kallan stepped back and then leapt forward. He thrust his blade at Allesia's breast this time; she spun around and struck him on his back this time, slicing him down the side. He stumbled and then turned around and attacked again, raising a familiar cry. "For Love and Beloved!" Torc recognized it from his practice bouts with Kallan. Alessia paused and then parried at the last minute, causing a gash across her brow. Kallan then swung around wildly to attack again.

Blow after blow, Kallan attacked Allesia. She continued to parry blow after blow from him however. Torc wished this over, that she would lose, but they continued. They both were starting to visibly tire. Thrust, parry, and strike. Once again, Kallan cried out and attacked Torc's rival for the prince's affections. "For Love and Beloved!" he cried. "For the Prince of my Heart!" she cried and then knocked his sword away. It arched through the air and skittered on the floor, sliding all the way to Torc's feet. He looked at it wide eyes for a minute. Then he looked up.

He saw that they both were on opposite sides of the room, backs facing each other. They both turned around and then Allesia stepped forward to cross the distance between her and Kallan and then everyone saw what was going to happen. Torc's eyes widened open as it happened. Her steps quickened when she got closer to him. She leapt forward and then held his chin down so that she could kiss him full on the lips. Allesia then brought her other arm back and then thrust her sword through Kallan. She then said something that only Kallan could hear. She kissed him harder and then dropped to the floor with him. The prince's eyes widened for a minute and then softened in gratitude.

Allesia bent over Kallan's now still figure. Torc flew into a rage. He picked up the sword and then yelled out, "How could you!" His voice echoed off the walls in the octagon room. "You have killed him! You have taken him away from me!" Torc ran towards her and Allesia turned around just long enough to see Torc drive the blade right though her. "You deserve what you find after darkness." He said. She smiled at him and said, "Let the truth set you free..." He twisted the blade savagely, causing her to shudder. "And let the truth be your undoing; for you have killed my prince." Realization spread across her face.

"You... loved him?" she had managed to gasp out.

"Like no other." He replied tartly. "And you took him away from me. Now, I take that which is most dear to you..." He grinned maliciously and then said, "I have won in the end stupid, stupid Allesia." She then smiled and said back, "No you have not. I have taken that which is most dear to me, and now, I will have it again." Torc looked confused and then realized that he had indeed lost in this battle. "I have won that which I wanted." "No!" he cried out as he twisted the blade once more. "He was mine, MINE!" Torc then fell to the ground and began to cry.

He stopped and then said, "I have lost him." Tears streaked down his face as he stood up, staring at Kallan's body. He didn't want to acknowledge that he had lost Kallan, that Kallan was dead; dead at the hands of the person who he had loved more that Torc.

He then looked up and turned to the king and said, "Forgive me. For I have done you wrong." He picked up the sword and said, "This is for him that could not find to love me. This is also for him who has stolen my heart. This is the last thing I say: This is for he that I did love and found, but knew that he could not return it." With that, he thrust the sword straight into himself. He fell to the ground and the last words he said were, "I love you... my prince... Kallan."

Dominos of Fate Part 1: Love

2003-08-13T17:30:17Z

This is a set of stories, all the same one, just told from the different points of view and they all go together, read them in the order that they are presented and you should be good.
~ Yoakenomyoujou

Love

Allesia had not felt this way in her entire life. She felt as if she had been twisted into knots and then some, but it was a good sort of feeling. She smiled as she walked down the hall. It was nothing like she had felt before. She thought that she knew the cause too. It had to be Prince Kallan (kal-ann). She had been spending time with him recently. He was a friend to her. He was always there when she wanted to talk, and the opposite was true as well. Whenever he wanted to though, they sparred in the octangular room near the Grand Hall. They would spar for hours on end.

She stepped into the hallway that led to her room in the Twin Spire. She was situated in the Moon Tower. The Sun Tower was where he stayed. Sometimes, late at night, they would both sneak out into the courtyard and look at the stars together. They had been friends since childhood. They had often done it then and still continued to now. While they had been sparring, he had done the normal ritual.

"Do you stargaze?" He had asked in his melodic voice. It was music to her ears and she loved when he talked. His words seemed to rise up to engulf him.

"Yes, I do..." She had replied.

"Do you stargaze from the tower?"

"No, The skies are dark from my tower. Do you stargaze Prince?"

"Yes I do."

"From the Sun Tower?"

"No, The skies are dark from my tower too."

"Then, my prince, shall we meet in the courtyard and see if the stars are still dark?"

He would nod and then it would be set for that night. She enjoyed his company. They would both sit there and then watch the stars. Recently though, he had been watching her more than the stars as of late. She had remarked on it once and all he had said was, "I see brighter stars in your eyes than I see in the sky." She had blushed, but the darkness hid her. She had been happy for that.

As she walked the halls of Amergin (am-ar-geen), she bumped into Torc (tork). He was new to the castle and had quite an extensive reputation as well as an intense hatred for Allesia. She did not know why, but she did know that he did not like her. Torc sneered at her and then said, "Watch where you're going. I don't like bumping shoulders with scum like you." She said nothing, as she was supposed to do and then turned the corner, muttering obscenities when she thought that he could no longer hear her. She had begun to dislike him as well, but she had to deal with him.

He was staying in the Sun Tower, so she couldn't do anything to him that he would not report to the King. He was also becoming a fast friend with Kallan. She did not mind, but she had a strange feeling about Torc. She thought that something was not quite right about him, but she dared to say nothing. As of late when Allesia first discovered the feeling, her sparring with the prince in the Octagon Room became less and less and his time with Torc had grown more and more. She had never remarked at it, but she knew that Torc was slowly taking her time with her Prince.

One night, while they were stargazing, Allesia noticed a bruise on Kallan's arm that was rather strange. It was not that of a practice sword, but almost that of someone grabbing him. She turned to him and asked him about it.

"Oh that?" he said rather nervously, "That was from my sparring with Torc. He hit me rather hard while we were fighting." Allesia did not buy it however. Her Prince was not telling her the whole truth. She sighed and then moved closer to him. In response, he put his arm around her. She felt warm and at home in his arms, but she would never had admitted it if anyone asked her. It was their little secret she and he. It was almost as if no one else had the right to know. She smiled and then fell asleep in his arms that night, listening to his steady heartbeat.

The next morning, she found herself in her bed in the Moon Tower. When she sat up, she pondered on whether or not, the last night had been a dream. That was when she saw him, sitting next to the door with his sword on his lap. He had carried her out of the garden and put her to bed. He had stayed up all night, guarding her. She smiled slightly and then walked over to him. As she thought about waking him, she slowly leaned forward and then kissed him. His eyes fluttered open in surprise as he woke up, but then he returned it.

* * * * *

Now she walked the halls. Torc was long gone and she was feeling happier. That was when she heard it. She heard her Prince. She was overjoyed! Then she heard something else as well. It was Torc. Black hair matched black hair, as well as green eyes, but Tork was slightly taller than Kallan. He was standing there, conversing with the prince. She slowly stepped behind a nearby column to hear what they were saying.

"...You know what you do though!" That had been Torc. Kallan looked slightly hurt.

"But how am I supposed to know about that? I didn't know! I swear!"

"I have told you though!" Now Torc looked slightly upset. His eyes had furrowed in pain. "What more can I do to tell you, to show you?" Kallan looked away slightly ashamed. At least that was what Allesia thought it was. Torc looked to the ground. He then put a hand out to Kallan and placed it on his shoulder. "Please?" Torc said pleadingly. Allesia looked at Kallan for a minute and then saw him sigh. He slowly turned to Torc and said, "No, I cannot. I cannot do it. Not even for you."

Torc looked shocked for a minute. Kallan continued, taking Torc's hand from his shoulder. "I can't do it. I'm sorry." He gripped Torc's hand within his own. "I'm sorry," he said again. With that, he turned around and then walked off, letting go of Torc's hand and leaving him surprised. Tork tried once more, "Please!" he called out to the prince. When no answer came back to him, Torc fell to the ground and began to cry. Allesia slowly left as silently as she came.

* * * * *

Days had passed since Allesia had seen the incident between her prince and Torc in the corridors of Amergin. She had not brought it up to him while they stargazed or while they were sparing, which had become more and more often. However, he did not stop sparing with Torc either. She was now walking amongst the gardens. Before she reached the spot where she and her Prince would stargaze, she heard a muffled cry. She almost rushed around the hedge, but first looked. She saw her prince and Torc again. Torc had grabbed her prince by his wrist! She was shocked!

"Let me go!" cried Kallan. Torc did not comply however. He continued to grasp Kallan's wrist. "Please," begged Kallan, "your hurting my wrist!" Torc held it longer and then let go, collapsing to the ground, sobbing. "No, please..." began Kallan. He then shook his head and sat down on the bench that Allesia would sit on with him. Torc shifted his head slightly to rest in Kallan's lap. Kallan sat there, long fingers stroking though raven black hair. "I'm sorry." Kallan said.

Torc sobbed louder. "I didn't meant to hurt you," he said between sobs. "...You know I never could..." Kallan smiled slightly, weakly, and then sighed. "Yes I know," he said, "But I just cannot do what you ask. It would be a little too much. You know that. I might learn to accept it; but no one else would ever be able to." Torc sobbed loudly. Allesia turned away. She was torn. Torn between confronting Kallan and not saying anything. She walked away slowly, knowing she could say nothing.

* * * * *

It had now been quite sometime since the incident in the garden. In fact, it had been a little over a month. Allesia had almost forgotten it totally, had it not been for the bright red marks that appeared on her Prince's arms. She enjoyed time with her prince though. She truly loved her prince. And she knew he loved her too. However, it was not to last. One night, while they were stargazing he said, "My father has found out about us. He does not approve." Allesia turned her head around and looked at him with wide eyes. "How did he find out?" she asked in disbelief. "I do not know," he said, "but I do know one thing. On the marrow, we are to fight for our love.

This confused Allesia. The confusion played across her face. "I do not understand," she stated. "How are we to fight for our love."

"It is not we who are fighting for our love, but you alone."

"What?" she cried in disbelief.

"Tomorrow, we fight and it will not be a normal spar. If I win, I may never see you again. If you win however, Father says that we can be married."

"This has nothing to do with..." she trailed off. She did not want to bring Torc up now. She did not want him to know that she had spied. "With what?" he asked. "With nothing." She said in a low tone. "Just hold me. It might be the last time." He silently obeyed, wrapping his arms around her.

The next day, they were in the octagon room. Both were prepared to fight, but only one was willing to win fully. Kallan's father was there, but also, Torc. He looked at her with a grim determination. Hatred seethed openly through his eyes at her. She did not enjoy it one bit. Kallan came up to her and then said, "My father has changed the rules at the last minute. We must now fight to the death. I'm sorry." For the first time though, he openly kissed her and said, "Do not hold back my beloved. Do not hold back at all." Allesia saw Torc tighten fists that were being held at his sides.

She nodded and then realized what he wanted. She didn't know if she could do it, but she would try. They both stood in their starting positions and then they started. Her Prince started with a tight thrust at her stomach. She dodged it easily and then parried the blow. She then swung around and thrust her own sword at her Prince. It was halfhearted though, and her prince countered it and slashed her arm. She staggered for a second, clutching the wound. Kallan had really meant it. She looked at Torc who looked at her grimly. She knew that he was secretly hoping that she would lose, although as to why she could not have guessed why.

She recovered rather fast and then spun around and struck her prince. Slashing him across his sword arm. He cried out, but only for a moment. He stepped back and then leapt forward. He thrust his blade at her breast this time; she spun around and struck him on his back this time, slicing him down the side. He stumbled and then turned around and attacked again, raising a familiar cry. "For Love and Beloved!" She let her judgement cloud her for a minute and then parried at the last minute, causing a gash across her brow. Her Prince than swung around wildly to attack again.

Blow after blow, her prince attacked her. She knew that it wasn't his fault, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. What kind of father was Kallan's? She continued to parry blow after blow from her prince. He was starting to tire, as was she. Thrust, parry, and strike. She recognized a familiar pattern that he was establishing on purpose. She did not want to have to do this, but she had to. Once again, he cried out and attacked her. "For Love and Beloved!" he cried. "For the Prince of my Heart!" she cried and then knocked his sword away. It arched through the air and skittered on the floor, sliding all the way to Torc's feet. She did not like what she had to do. She stepped forward to cross the distance between her and her prince and then everyone saw what was going to happen.

Her steps quickened when she got closer to him. She leapt forward and then held his chin down so that she could kiss him full on the lips. She brought her other arm back and then thrust her sword through him. "Forgive me my Prince, for I have failed that who holds my heart." She kissed him harder and then dropped to the floor with him. The prince's eyes widened for a minute and then softened in gratitude. His last words to her were "No you have not; you have set him free."

As she bent over his now still figure, She heard Torc cry out loud. "How could you!" His voice echoed off the walls in the octagon room. "You have killed him! You have taken him away from me!" Allesia turned around just long enough to see Torc drive the blade though her. "You deserve what you find after darkness." He said. She smiled at him and said, "Let the truth set you free..." He twisted the blade savagely, causing her to shudder. "And let the truth be your undoing; for you have killed my prince." The realization of the words struck her as darkness began to encroach on her. "You... loved him?" she had managed to gasp out.

"Like no other." He replied tartly. "And you took him away from me. Now, I take that which is most dear to you..." He grinned maliciously and then said, "I have won in the end stupid, stupid Allesia." She then smiled and said back, "No you have not. I have taken that which is most dear to me, and now, I will have it again." Torc looked confused and then realized that he had indeed lost in this battle. "I have won that which I wanted." That was the last thing she said, before she was sent to the arms of her beloved.

Death's Tale : Prologue

2003-08-13T16:08:07Z

This tale that I tell will be my last. My time upon this coil, this wheel, has almost come to a close. The wheel has spun many into my eyes and past, and I fear that I should tell of this before it all comes crashing down upon my head. My name though, you must know by now, it must seem quite a pity to you. This story is only told, so that it will be remembered. No one needs to know my name, but I fear the Ravens, so I shall not speak it. My eyes however, must have given it away by now.
However, have you eve supposed what it was that Death thinks? Yes, she is indeed a free spirit, born from the worlds beginning. She was always there, and she has her own jobs to do. She is as she ever was, but she too has her won tale. It has often been called Death’s Tale, but you shall know what becomes of it…

The woman sighed and pulled her shawl tighter around her frame. As she sat next to the fire, she stared into the flames with dark eyes. The fire was only a small blaze against the chill that winter brought, but that was to be expected, as was the person who was coming to the door. She waited for only a moment and then spoke, “Enter.” Her voice was slight, but projected across the one room cabin. There was a slight shuffle at the other end of the door and it opened, brining a chill wind in.

A man stepped through the open portal and into the small living area. He was tall and dressed against the chill of the cold, unlike the small woman sitting near the fire. “Close the door.” He obeyed her command quite swiftly and she smiled to herself. As soon as the door was shut, she bade him to come near the fire. “It is after all rather cold outside. Would you rather not be warmer inside?”

The man shook his head. “I am quite fine where I am…” She brought up a single hand to stop what he was saying. “There is no need for that,” she spoke evenly. His green eyes flickered at the gesture. Her skin was a light shade of pale, and as the firelight danced off of it, he moved a few steps closer. “Leave that horrid thing by the door.” He stopped unaware at first to what she was talking about and then realized. He slowly swung the bundle from his back and placed it by the door. He also took of his cloak and hung it on a peg near the door as well. His boots however, he left on.

“There is no need to have them on while you are in my dwelling. You may take them off. I do not mind.” Hesitating, he shook his head and left them on. “Suit you,” was all she said. “What is it that has brought you here to find me of all people?”

The man shook his head, his silver hair cascading around his neck in a common warriors tail. “The same as all others seek from you. I wish to know what it holds for me, the future.”

The woman laughed, “Yes, they all seek the future, but not all of them will be in it.” The man took a tentative step forward and the woman turned back to look on him with sightless eyes. “Stop where you are Talvi, I do not wish to harm you.” The woman looked down and Talvi sensed a slight bit of regret in her demeanor. “Talvi, what is it that you wish to know? Weather or not you will be in the future? Why is it that you wish to know of it?”

“I want to know if I become what I have always wanted…”

The woman’s eyes glowed a slight red. At that moment, she began to speak in a monotone voice:

“Broken are promises that the First have made,
Spoken and written have they not been obeyed?
Pact made with Death’s own rules,
Find that they are only mere tools.
Seasons may come to rise in power,
But it shall fail them in the critical hour.”

As she finished, she slowly slumped into her chair. Her shawl, fell limply along her shoulders. Her skin was beaded with sweat. To tell as she had had taken much out of her. She was too old to issue such. That was why she had come to live alone in the cabin anyways. She looked towards the back where bookshelves were piled with books, journals, papers and other such, all written by her hands or another when she was too week to do so. They were all of the prophecies that she had ever made. Some had been told and they had come true, others yet still had their times to come.

Talvi stood there with his deep green eyes searching the woman for signs of anything else. She just heaved breath after ragged breath for a while. He stood there patiently for a while and then said, “Is that all you have to tell me?” The woman shook her head and then said, “That is all I dare tell you. Do not ask me anymore, least I tell you something you do not want to hear…”

“So what you said was for my amusement then?”

“No, You know I cannot speak naught but the truth. Do not ask me to See anything else.”

Talvi grinned a rather selfless grin and stroked his pitched white beard. It had been trimmed to fit his square jaw and accentuate it. He was not quite used to it yet, but it would suit him. He nodded to himself a moment and then spoke. “Thank you. I shall see if what you have Seen will be reality.” The woman turned her sightless eyes on him and then spoke in a rather harsh voice, “Have I ever been wrong that you know of?” Talvi shook his head.

“Old woman, you have never been wrong, however, you are getting on in years…”

“I was alive before your great grandfather’s times boy. And don’t call me old woman.”

Talvi shrugged. “All the same, I would not take it past you that you will soon no longer be able to See. Be careful now.” With his words hanging on the air, he picked up his sword and then placed his cloak back over his shoulders and then walked out back into the cold. As the door slammed shut, the woman smiled a sad smile.

“Come out,” she spoke, “I know you are there old friend.” Within the darkness to one side of the shelves of books another figure cloaked in a black cloak stepped out into the light, a rather tight hood covered their features and upon one shoulder, sat a single raven. In one hand, the specter carried a scythe on witch yet another Raven sat.

“You ever were able to sense my presence my dear,” the figure spoke. The woman smiled and then pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders again. “Perhaps it is because you and I are old friends, but then perhaps it is because I danced out of your clutches ever again and again.” The figure laughed. “Well met indeed friend, well met indeed.” The woman smiled and motioned to a chair that she could not see.

“Please, warm yourself by this fire.”

“You know that I can feel n warmth of it, I am cold as ice itself. However, the thought behind it is accepted gratefully.” The woman nodded rather thoughtfully as the figure sat.

“Take of your hood. You should be all right in here. There will be no one else coming for a while.”

The figure laughed ruefully. “Did you See that?”

The woman smiled, “Perhaps.”

The figure shook its head and then pulled of the cowl to its cloak. A cascade of silver hair flowed out into a pair of elegant shoulders. Dark brooding eyes, completely white in contrast to the woman’s own black, were but a pale reflection of the person’s demeanor. Her lips were full and lustrous and her skin was as pale, if not lighter in paleness, that the woman who sat in front of her. As she had leaned her scythe against the wall, the Raven on her shoulder cawed and then flapped its wings to join the other that had made a perch of it.

“What you saw for Talvi, do you know when it will come about?”

“I know no more than you my dear. If I had known more, I would have told him.”

“What of the part that you did not tell him?”

The woman smiled as her gaze was directed back to the fire. “That was for you neither. It is something that will be written down, taken note of, and when the time comes Ages from now, when the wheel spins back once again to the Age that created us, even after, scholars will pore over these texts trying to find again, what has happened, what will happen at that time, and what is yet to come.” She chuckled to herself at that moment and the other woman flashed her white eyes.

“Do not try and mock me Death. I know why you are here, but I know that it is not because you need to take me. You wished for me to see the future for you too. I know. So if you remember what I told Talvi, then you should be good. After all, that was just as much for you as it was for him.”

Death’s eyes narrowed to thin slits as she peered at the woman in front of her. The woman merely smiled right back at her. She dismissed it with a toss of her head. She looked back at the shelves and sighed. Even after her death, who would take care of them? The woman nodded. “Yes, who indeed…?” Death’s head spun back to her as the woman gazed into the fire. Sometimes she wondered whether the woman was an empathic, but she knew it not to be true.

Death stood up from where she had been sitting and slowly smiled at the woman. “Is there a reckoning coming?” The woman turned sightless eyes upon Death. “Is that a question, or a Question?” Death smiled unforgiving. “It is neither,” she said, “Just a thought.” The woman near the fire chuckled to herself and nodded. “Indeed Death, we all know that thoughts are what kill people more often than not.”

Death stood up and looked at the old woman as she once more regained hold over her scythe. “I am not going to be here to take you, you know…”

The woman looked up, a startled look on her face. “Oh,” she smiled, “I know. It would be sad though. After all, we have become such good friends you and I my dear.” Death smiled, something that was meant for this woman alone, something that no other mortal had seen before. “Yes indeed, we do get along.” The raven’s cawed once, but retained their perch on her scythe. The other raven finally cawed once in the ensuing silence and flew to perch on her shoulder.

“Oh, I have some cakes in one of the cupboards for your two darling ravens my dear. Hold on a moment before you go so I can give them to you.” Both Ravens cawed in delight as the old woman got up and walked to a cupboard on the sidewall. As she pulled out the small grain cakes from the cupboard, the Ravens took wing to her side in order to have them. She held out hands and passed one to each and then pulled out two more. She slowly walked back to Death and placed them in her hand. “For later, the little dears.”

“If I’m not careful,” Death said, “you will spoil them rotten and then how will they be able to do their jobs?” The old woman made a face and waved her hand in the air. “Oh don’t be so crass. They deserve a little treat every now and then.” Death smiled once again her enigmatic smile and then spoke once more. “I hope to come back and see you old friend…”

“Don’t worry death, you will see me again. I See that.” The woman chuckled.

“I hope you are right… Oraclé.”

Oracle Chapter 6

2003-08-13T15:57:10Z

VI: Secret Discussions

Dacthira smiled slightly as he stared across the landscape. The city spread across his vision winked in the glowing rising sun. The towers of metal twisted upon themselves and rose into the sky as if an army had raised a thousand knives and swords. Sharp metal points to contrast the maze of streets below. The city sprawled and then ended abruptly at the metal walls that had marked its permanent boundaries.

The city had been originally mined from a mine that had long since caved in and produced no more ore for it. The man who had built the city had been crazy, but he had had a vision. The vision still lived on even after he had died at the end of construction. The city stayed on as an eternal monument to madness, his madness.

The history was something to know as well. The man, Kaizen Raithen, had begun the construction of the city because of the idea that the Goddess and the God had given him a vision… at the age of twelve. Many called him crazy as he told everyone that they had come to him and commanded him to build a city. He tried in vain to get the city built by local rulers, but none listened.

He vanished for a while, and then he came back later. This time, he had money. How he had gotten it, no one knew. He had been gone for over twelve years; so many assumed that he had robbed others for it. Some thought that he had received it from a ‘faie. None knew save him however, and he never told.

He came back and then began to build his city. As it was built, he razed it to the ground several times before he began to use metal. The city, when finished, was thought to be a monstrosity. However, people who had nowhere else to go due to the troubles that had been caused by the Arch Prelate of the time, moved into the city.

Now it was one of the most prosperous cities in the world.

Dacthira shook his head softly while watching the sunrise, when there was a knock at the door.

“Come.” It was spoken softly as the door was opened. In scuttled a woman who was dressed in a flowing black robe of pure silk. The hem of the robe had been stitched with a reoccurring knot pattern that was common around Luxin. He turned to her and smiled.

“Ah, my darling Jianna, how lovely to see you here. I trust that you are indeed doing well?” The woman looked at him crossly and gave him such a glare that all he could seem to do was grin.

“If you think that I am doing any better than before you are sadly mistaking. I have a headache that would kill most people right about now and all you seem concerned about are false trivialities, which make the day seem longer than it already is!”

“Sorry my dear, but if I had but known…”

She snapped at him this time. “Oh you did know! You know how much iron makes us innate ones hurt…”

“Like I said, it is also the best place to be as of now. With all the iron, who could possibly sense what we are doing, much less eavesdrop or scry us?”

The woman rolled her eyes and then laced her fingers together. “You know that it is also harder for me to do any magic for you…” He nodded his head in acknowledgement. “We have this damn argument every time that I see you. It will be no different. We will continue to stay here in the ‘Mad City’.” He smiled charmingly at her and then turned to a white oak table that was inlayed with cherry wood. “Tea my dear?”

Jianna scoffed and then nodded her head slightly, “Only if you have…”

“My dear, I always have your favorite, Dark Cannith. You think that I would have any other here?” She frowned at him and then tried to smile as best as she could. There was just something though that didn’t seem right about it so she stopped trying to. She looked over at the window. The sun was rising higher into the sky with every passing minute. “What is it that you want this time?” Dacthira passed her a cup of the tea that had been sitting inside a small pot on the table. The teacup and saucer in his hands were indeed fine porcelain that had been made in Exitor. “So you serve me on your fine exíten?”

“Nothing but the best for you my dear.” His voice was almost like a soft caress as she warily accepted the cup from her.

“You know,” she began, “My mother always told me to beware a man who was charming, because a man could never be charming and not dangerous at the same time.”

As he sipped the tea, he smiled at her smoothly. “You should have listened to her,” he spoke. She shook her head, her brown hair swishing in the sudden movement. It had been combed to a shimmering gloss and a single comb in the shape of a butterfly had been placed in her hair. It had been crafted by hand in another city, where he had imported it.

Jianna fixed Dacthira with her green eyes and stared at him pensively as he continued to sip his tea. After a moment, she placed the cup with the saucer on the table and moved to sit in the elegant chair that was only a few steps away. The plush chair was cushioned with a soft covering of doeskin and was embroidered on the side in all manner of flowers.

“Why did you call me?”

Dacthira smiled with an obvious charm that made her shudder under her skin for a moment and then she asked again. He shook his head, “Only for the mere pleasure of your presence.” She sneered at him quite suddenly. “Don’t feed me that. You called me here for a reason, what is it or I shall leave the room.” He smiled again and then there was a sudden stillness.

The entire room took on what appeared to be a shielded light and as she looked out the window, she could no longer see the sun rising. She turned back to him and then said, “There, the room is shielded. There must have been a reason why you called me here at the crack of dawn…”

“There is a reason,” he spoke quite suddenly. “As you know, there have been troubles lately.” Jianna snorted. It was common knowledge that there was always trouble. This time it was centered in Nalmia. As to what it was about, no one knew. The crown however had to been having problems as usual. The two heirs to the throne were already bickering who would have the crown if the current King, who had been suffering a grave illness lately, were to die.

“Those stupid children are bickering again…” Jianna smiled contemptuously. “Is that what you are referring to?”

Dacthira shook his head. “You know what they have been up to in the forests of the elves?” Jianna rolled her eyes. “As if I make it a point to know what the Sulin’faie are doing…”

“You should make it a point my dear, you should. That has nothing to do with what is going on though.” He paused for a moment. “Did you know that the Arch Prelate has called the faithful? He has called all of the followers of Nadiria to answer the call. Trouble is brewing my dear… trouble. This poor city could be in the middle of it.”

Jianna rolled her eyes again. “What is really going on?”

He turned to her and then said, “Cathraiz is ready to declare war from the other side of the Misty Pass.” Jianna’s jaw nearly dropped. “What? I thought that the Overlord was happy where he was!” Dacthira smiled rather lopsidedly. “Apparently not.”

“What is his claim this time?”

“The old contracts that he made with the Dynast…”

Jianna threw her hands into the air. “And this has to deal with Nalmia how?”

Dacthira smiled again. “The Dynast, as you know…” Jianna suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth. “You don’t mean… oh my gods!” She jumped up out of the chair and then paced towards the window. “By the Hands of the Heart… This can’t be good.” She turned back over to Dacthira. “Are we supposed to do anything? Can we do anything?”

Dacthira shook his head. “There is nothing that we can do as of yet lady.”

Languages in Oracle

2003-08-13T15:50:57Z

Languages in Oracle

In the Land of Nalmia and Calinia and others, there are many languages. The first that we deal with though are the languages of the ‘faie, specifically Sulinis’faie and Illen’faie. The first language that you will be immersed into will be the Sullinin language. The language is one of the three main languages of the ‘faie. This language flows off the tongue, much like the others and is known for its complexity of the flowery language. Unlike the others though, it is not used in a complex form as its sister language really, Illaria (the language used primarily by the Illen’faie).

Sulinin translations:

“Masöa iriaalea sié’ol Telarai?” (Is that you Telarai?)

“Öre’s misiô shiö’an elurí averiéras?” (Are these people safe brother?)

“Auraia elú irasias, tella mia, isiü ‘gere’aui eris’t víorês’ ïnak’.”
(Auraia don’t worry, my dear, they’re ‘strangers far from home’.)

“Miâlora.” (Welcome.)

cesilliöa (Pure; this is in reference to a person as in a pure ‘faie, one who has no tainted blood)

tella mia (my dear)

“Elú irasias? Maiaö vou’ën iriaalea eíah averiéras?”
(Don’t worry? Who could that be brother?)

“Dou’oi irasiasn! Shi’ena uisioüa eris nou’geoüs.”
(Stop worrying! Threatening everyone is not.)

“Tou’ouí isou eüan. Tou’oui…” (Sorry I am. Sorry…)

“Isou cozuön.” (I know.)

“Isou eüan gere’ai eris’t víorês’ ïnak! Oler’iá!” (I am a stranger far from home! Open!)

“Telarai ‘Aüon Jelath Immeiasras! Oler’iá itaien poor’al!” ([Telarai’s full name]! Open this door!)

“Sen’ai!” (Sybil/Mystic!)

“Miâlora Sen’ai, eris misa eil’taniä isou reina ithen sié’ol?” (Welcome Sen’ai, is there anything I offer may you?)

“Mes’oui Raxis’.” (Shadow Luck)

“Luxiator Raxis’” (Light Luck)

pitch’olth : “It was a small instrument that was shaped in the bottom like a rather large circle. On the top, there were two long pieces that were attached and jutted out of the instrument at an angle, which also ended in small circles of wood. Between these circles, another curved piece of wood connected the two. Upon which, there were strings which attached the main body as well. The strings counted nine in all, but for some reason, there had been added more strings to bring the total up to thirteen.
The wood itself was a rather pale version of what appeared to be maple, but the wood seemed more durable like white oak. Also, there were inlays of cherry wood in the instrument’s back side. It was a set of complicated knot designs that appeared to be in the shape of endless designs.”
It is a rather popular instrument among the ‘faie and is rather complicated to play by races other than the ‘faie themselves as it take a longer span of years to learn how to play it.

Dakar Illaria for ‘beast’

gilli’dan ‘Faie term that roughly translated is whore’s mongrel. It is denoted usually to the half-breeds, whose parents have for some reason had relations and then allowed the birth of these “creatures” as they are sometimes called. It is obviously not a polite term.

Phantom Rose Part 1

2003-08-12T21:45:30Z

She woke up, not knowing how long she had been there, but she knew it was too long. She clasped her head and tried to shake the pain away from it. Her whole body was aching with pain as well. When it didn’t go away, she tried not to shake it away. It made the pain in her body even worse. She looked at her gray dull surroundings. It was as if they expected her to be happy that they had put her into the dark gray chamber. The walls were made of the same dull stone that the floor was made out of.

She looked for the door, but wound up sitting in the corner of her prison cell instead. As she sat there, she tried to think of what happened. What was it that had ended up with her in this grungy dismal cell? She was swept with a wave of nausea and clutched her stomach. As she stumbled to another corner, she wound up empting the contents of her stomach in a pail that was there.

After she had finished, she crawled back to a corner to cry with her head in her hands.

*****

“Well, she is in the holding cell.”

Ceril du’Theosin turned from the table she had been standing against heavily. Her green eyes flashed suddenly at the person who was standing in front of her. “Is that so? Then there is no need to worry and we can begin immediately.”

“Umm…”

“No need to just stand there and bite your lip Gila, what is it?”

The girl bowed her head only a moment before she looked back up at her superior. Her dark hair was tied behind her head in a dark braid that swung over her right shoulder. She tugged at it in nervousness. “She has been crying ever since she woke up.”

Ceril spun around and her eyes flashed. “She’s awake? Why didn’t you tell me?” The urgency in her voice made the reprimand all the worse to bear.

“We just found out Ceril…”

“That is not an excuse! You should have known when it happened! Now I have to take care of it myself!” She turned on the hapless woman and smacked her across the face. “I will not tolerate this happening under my watch. Until we solve the… problem… that we are having right now; we are not going to get any sleep.”

Gila looked up from the slap she had received quite suddenly, her cheek a bright red. “You’re not seriously thinking to go through with the plan that you had thought up in case of this are you?” As Ceril moved towards the door, she stopped for only a moment.

“Well of course.” She turned in mid stride as her hand rested on the handle of the door. “What were you expecting me to do?”

*****

The two figures stood next to the Theosin statue of Justice. The statue was of a woman who had one foot forward and was holding two crystal spheres in her hands. Each signifying night and day, one had the crescent moon within it while the other had the sun. The one with the sun was held slightly higher than the one with the moon. They were both beautifully rendered in the crystal. The statue stood upon a small dais.

Rellis sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. His dark brown hair was unruly as usual, but had a more distinct quality this time. He turned towards Dinia. She smiled smugly.

“Game is on…”

“As if I didn’t know that; don’t take me for a fool.”

Dinia flung her dark hair out with her hand. “I never said that you were a fool.”

Rellis crossed his arms and spoke aloud, “Well, then do we have bet?”

“You’re on.”

*****

She was surprised to find that she had slept when she woke up. She was still within the small stone room. She couldn’t remember falling asleep though. She was vaguely aware of a sound though that seemed to echo. As she looked around the room, she noticed more of her surroundings. Along one wall, there was a stone bench. From the corner that she was in, she could see a door, wooden. That reassured her somewhat although she didn’t know how.

At least she wasn’t in the dungeons. At least she thought that she wasn’t. For all she knew, wherever she was, she was in a dungeon. She griped her head in an effort to make it stop hurting. The pain was still there though, continuing, coursing through her head, a constant dull throbbing.

She couldn’t remember anything though. Her head still hurt too much. At that moment, she couldn’t even remember her on name. She felt thought that there was something that was more important that she was failing to remember; something that had changed her destiny in some way. There was something that was missing though, as if Fate had taken something away from her that wasn’t supposed to have been taken from her. As she tried to think again, the darkness encroached upon her sight again and she fell into the shadows.

*****

Ceril looked over at the wooden door and stared at it. Her gaze frightened the poor boy that had been given the duties of watching the girl behind it. He stood, worrying about what the black haired woman would do. Ceril had been known for her terrible tempers. He stood as she stared at the door. The brown haired girl behind her was no better either. She was tugging at her braid rather violently and the worried look on her face was driving on the poor boy’s nerves.

“How long has she been awake?” Ceril’s sharp voice cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. The boy squeaked at her and spoke with an uncertain voice. “I’m not quite sure madam. We checked on her one moment and she was still passed out and then another moment, we checked on her and she was crying. What would you have us do madam?”

Ceril looked at the boy with her green eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t have you do anything but to keep a better watch on her. For now, she should be fine, but since she is awake now, I think it would be all right for us to see her now.” She turned to the door and motioned at it. “Open it now.” The boy turned white for a moment and then fumbled with the lock on the door. As he lifted the bar on the door and then turned back the latch of the lock, the door swung open.

Ceril lifted the front of her green dress off of the ground only by a bit as she walked into the small cell. Gila followed; her blue dress hemmed slightly above the ground, not needing to lift her dress. As they filed into the cell, they saw the girl huddled into a corner. Her hair and face as well as her clothes were not only matted with sweat, but with dirt as well, which was slowly mixing with the sweat to form a sticky mud. Her dress was torn in several places with large gaps showing her long legs and several others showing her arms. Her entire body was covered in scratches and cuts and bruises. Her pale blonde hair was completely disarrayed and plastered to parts of her sweaty face.

Her high cheekbones were bruised on the left and cut on the right. A rather large cut ran rather close to her throat. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was ragged. Along her collar, the embroidered rose was cut and the thread was not only fraying, but unraveling as well. The high collar that had once encased what was most likely at one time a slender neck was now ripped and beneath it, the neck bruised as well. The girl’s hands were wrapped tightly around her knees, which had been brought up as far as they could go to her chest, which wasn’t very far. On her left hand, a large cut was still oozing blood, even if only a little bit.

Gila took one look at the girl and covered her mouth with a single hand in horror as the other quickly clenched at her side gathering large amounts of her blue dress. Her eyes watered for a moment and then she forced herself to turn away. She stepped back towards the doorway and then paused. Ceril however stood there looking at the girl. Her eyes twitched and inspected every aspect of the now unconscious girl. Her lips thinned and pressed together, she turned to look at the boy. “Was this how she was found?”

The boy bobbed his head. “They brought her here as per your command…” At this, Ceril made a sniffing noise, which Gila thought was made in disgust. Ceril didn’t even turn when she ordered the boy.

“I want her washed up. It would hardly be anything to have something done if she looked like that. I could not allow anyone to try with her looking as she is. Clean her up,” as if by second thought, she added, “keep her drugged as well.” At that, she turned around and left the cell room by the door, pushing her way past Gila. The boy looked over at Gila and she shook her head, nodding in agreement. The boy looked down at the ground for a moment and then looked back up.

“Is it all right?”

Gila looked at the boy in surprise. The boy was short, due to his young age, but he seemed to poses a wisdom that not many at his age could claim. Gila shook her head at the situation and then spoke to him. “Make sure it all goes well and treat her well also. Follow what Ceril says.” The boy nodded and then motioned with his head to the door. Gila walked out and the boy followed. After they were both out of the room, the boy replaced the top bolt and then the bar that kept the door shut. Ceril waited impatiently and then looked at the boy. “Make sure to keep her drugged. I’ll send someone down who can do it.” With that said, she tailed off up the stairs to the main levels with Gila trailing behind her.

It was called the First Age, the Age that began it all. This was the Age when the Houses ruled the lands. There were no allegiances, except to those whom you made it to. This was the Age of Beginnings. This was the Age where power was what one had to deal in, least one be covered under Darkness’ Shadows. It was in this Age, when the Power, was given to one house…

*****

She paced her cell. It had been somewhere around two ninedays since she had been found and taken under ‘arrest’. It had “been for her own good”, or at least that was what the man who had taken care of her wounds had said. She had been granted a new pair of clothes from what she had originally worn when she first found herself in the cell. She was now however, not wearing anything with the rose that she remembered was on her first dress. She clutched her head and tried to will herself to remember about how she had wound up in the situation she was in, but all that came up was darkness. She could not remember anything before the harrowing moment that she had found herself in the cell. She sighed and then sat upon the stone cold bench that was made into the wall.

There was a moment where she closed her eyes and the walls melted away from her and she was in a large field. Then she would open her eyes and realize that her imagination was a poor substitute if she could not get out of the cell. She slowly placed a hand upon her chest and held it there for a moment. She knew there was something that she was forgetting, something that felt as if it was within her.

It swelled beneath her hand, almost like it was willing itself to burst from her chest, but at the last minute, she would feel it subside, as if she were forgetting something again. Every time she had done it, she had felt words on the tip of her tongue, something familiar about it, but nothing would come. It was warmth that continued on and on deeper and deeper into her. She could feel it go down to the depths of her very soul almost. She had tried many times now in the past two ninedays to consolidate the feeling, to grasp the words, but to no avail. Every time she thought she had it, something interrupted so that her mind was distracted enough that it wouldn’t work.

She frowned mildly to herself and then sat down to wait on the stone bench again. She closed her eyes and a shadow of a memory flickered across her vision. She reached out for it, but it vanished when she heard the sound of keys in the lock of her door rattling. She quickly stood up and brushed of the new dress that she had. As she did so, she placed her hand to her collar once more. She knew that there too, something was missing from the gray frock she had on. The dress was not even more than her size, but just something for her to wear.

At that moment, a woman stepped in. Green eyes flashed at her as the jailer allowed the woman to step in and then closed the door behind her. The woman was dressed in a tight fitting dress, which had been laced up the back corset style. The corset itself was white with green designs in it that were made to look like briars and thorns, while every now and then along the pattern, a single yellow rose would appear upon it. Pins that also looked like thorny brambles held up cascading black hair that fell around her shoulders. Her face seemed to have a scowl upon it as she looked at her.

The woman curled red lips at her and then spoke, “Welcome back.” The girl continued to keep her hands clasped together at waist level. The black haired woman continued.

“Remember me? Ceril? I am the Matriarch Head of House Theosin.”

The girl continued to star as Ceril made a face. “Don’t you remember anything? IT is a serious pain to have to deal with you like that.” The girl simply shook her head. She couldn’t remember anything of what had happened in the past. All she knew was that she was here and something was wrong and that she was more than likely going to be blamed for it.

The woman named Ceril seemed familiar to her, but the girl was still not sure as to why. Ceril stepped right in front of the girl and lifted her chin from the place where it was looking down with white hands. The girl noticed that even the hands of this woman Ceril were quite strong.

“Tell us where he is, and you shall be taken care of.”

The girl squirmed a bit and then stepped back, or at least tried to. Ceril kept a rather strong hold on her jaw with her one hand. Ceril’s eyes glittered like ice and felt as cold as well. “Where is the Mangus Master?”

The words felt as if they meant something, but she struggled to find out what it was. The words felt like they were connected to her in some way and she gripped Ceril’s hand with both of hers and tried to pull away. Ceril’s grip was ungodly though, and remained clamped to her chin. The girl struggled and then struggled some more. She tried to writhe her way out of the grasp, but it was not happening. “Tell me where he is! Is he still alive? Tell me!” Ceril’s voice was a shriek. The girl began to cry.

“I don’t know what you are talking about! I don’t remember!” At this she gagged. Ceril sneered.

“You disgust me.” At this, Ceril released her grip and pushed the girl backwards; she fell to the floor. Ceril continued to sneer as the girl gulped in fresh breaths of air. She didn’t remember this woman, and if she did, she knew that she probably had not been on good terms with her.

“You are utterly pathetic. If I see you again, it will only be too soon.” Ceril’s voice dripped venom as she moved back to the door to knock upon it. “Since you won’t tell us where he lies, I guess it is safe to assume he is dead. That means we will be doing this quietly and sending potentials down to you soon. Have fun in here while you still can.” As the door opened and Ceril stepped out, she turned again to show a rather large smile upon her face as she said one last thing, “Your power over the Rose ends here my dear.” At that, the door closed in the girls face and she just sat there on the floor before she began to weep at her wretched memory.

yoakenomyoujou @ 2003-08-12T12:43:00

2003-08-12T16:49:21Z

I have found another story to be readily added to the Arcivus. I hope you enjoy it. It is another of the Mangus Master Chronicals. This story takes place before Mangus Talon and his Sword Mistress Eve are intorduced into the orriginal storyline. This is of a previous Mistress actually, a turn from the traditional point of view of the Mangus Master. Unlike Sword and Bard, this Story, Phantom Rose is a bit more collective as the girl does not really remember all that much, though it is established that she is indeed a Sword Mistress, not much is known from there, even by the House Theosin. I hope you enjoy this addition.

~ Yoakenomyoujou

A Tapestry of Chorde Part 2

2003-08-06T19:15:10Z

The cart rolled along the road with a creaking that sounded much like an old door opening and closing in the wind. The road was dusty, but the dusk played across the horizon line and the wagon didn’t kick too much of it up. The two brown horses that were pulling the wagon were still walking along at a brisk pace as four figures were settled in the wagon. It was carrying empty baskets now, and two of the figures, both dressed in cloaks of dark wool, were sitting amongst them in the back of the wagon. A third cloaked figure sat in the front with the man who was leading the horses towards the nearest town.

“Once again, thank you ever so much,” the cloaked figure in the front spoke. “We would have been forced to camp upon the road if you had not come along.” The man in the front seat waved a hand at the figure. “Nonsense, it is my duty to pick up travelers upon the roads, make them less fodder for bandits. Though you are suspicious enough, I highly doubt that three women would want to rob me of my empty baskets.” At this the man chuckled.

“Even still, it is dangerous for three women to be walking this late at night along the road. Just wouldn’t do for me not to give you a ride to the nearest city…” there was a cackle from the back as the shorter of the two women spoke.

“All we can do is thank you, no?”

The tallest of the three women sat on the back with the other one. She continued to hold her high posture as well when she said, “Well, it would hardly be seemly for us to rob you. No use in it anyway.” The man tuned up a single pepper-gray eyebrow and then laughed again. “You are indeed an odd bunch.” The chuckle was heard once more from the back as it mixed in with the creaking of the wheels.

The girl in the front smiled. “Sir, you don’t know the whole of it either.” She smiled winningly from under her hood, soft curls of yellow and wheat framing her face as well as her blue-green eyes.

The man shook his head. With the hand not holding the reign, he pointed only a short distance away over a small hill, where a small town was located. “There be the nearest town ladies. I will drop you off there and then I must be going off to my own home.” The girl in the front nodded and smiled. “Thank you once again,” she said before the man was forced to wave it off again. They continued to ride on as the golden ball that was the sun began to set behind the distant hills. When they reached the town, the three women disembarked from the small wagon.

Pointing down the lane, he spoke to the girl who had sat in the front with him. “Down the lane that way is ‘The Broken Note’. It’s a fairly good tavern and an inn as well. You can’t miss it due to its sign.” The girl nodded as the other two stood behind her. “Thank you for helping me and my sisters once again.” She curtsied slightly and then all three of them hurried off down the road. The man gave her a funny look as the three hurried off the lane and then once again shrugged his shoulders as he urged the horses on once more.

In front of the Broken Note, the three stopped. For a moment, they looked at each other hooded and then walked into the loud tavern. Inside, people were exchanging happiness and grief over ale, mead, and other drinks. The fireplace was evidenced by a rather large hearth near one side of the room. A man in the corner was leading the now drunken merrymakers in a bawdy song in their drunken revelry. They seemed to be tunes that everyone knew.

As soon as they entered the door however, the three women all pulled back the hoods covering their faces at the same exact times. At the same time, shimmering hair and youthful faces were shown. More than anything though, the girl in the center stood out the most, her wheat colored curls glimmering in the light of the tavern and it’s fire. The voices of the revelry quieted down quite suddenly as everyone in the tavern turned to look at the new guests.

To her left, the tallest of the three looked around with clear disdain. Her own dark brown hair had been tied behind her head in a carefully wrought braid, which wrapped once around her forehead and then fell loose in the middle of her back. Her own green eyes searched the room for even a hint of ostracism for either her or the other two. The third was a little shorter than the second though; her own light black hair not let lose as the other two, but rather tied in a loose braid which she hung over her left shoulder. It hung just a little past her waist, and she was seen to have the longest hair among the three.

The three women however, looked no older than twenty-three winters. They looked around the room, and those in the room looked back as they took seats at a small table near the fireplace. The tallest tugged at her braid and her austere gaze leveled everyone from looking at the small group that they were. Soon however, the novelty of it wore off and the three soon were ignored once again in the loudness of the drunken revelry.

“We have made it out of there sisters, no?” The voice, though old aging and cracking, did not match the face of the shortest of the three women that the voice had emanated from. She paused a moment and then cleared her throat and began talking again, this time, her voice had cleared of all age. “We have made it out of the grasp of the Lady.” She smiled and then tugged at her long braid. “We have made it out of the grasp of the Lady!” She repeated it this time with a tinge of excitement.

The brown haired one nodded with stoicism. “Yes we have made it away from her, but we are now fugitives. We must not allow her to recapture us again.” Her voice was quiet, but had steel behind the words. Her face conveyed nothing of the fear that she felt, but there was also a burning hatred that could be seen in her eyes. She liked the Lady no more than her sisters did, but she had more reason to hate than did her sisters.

The youngest one though it seemed, brushed her curls to the side and then spoke. “Sisters, we can do something that others cannot. We are the Weavers. We can control the destiny of others.”

“But is not the whole reason that we escaped because we no longer wished to do so?” The back haired one tugged at her braid again. “Is that not the reason we escaped?” Her voice went into a hiss at the end.

The girl shook her head with her eyes sparkling. “The whole reason that we escaped was because we didn’t want to continue to do so in her service. That is the only reason that we no longer flourish under her rule of us. We escaped doing so for her. Who is to say that we cannot continue to do so?”

The tallest one of the three turned her head quite suddenly to say something in a clipped tone of voice when a serving maid came to the table. She was not at all as beautiful as the ladies at the table, but there was a sense of disdain for the new ladies who had entered her place of work. “How may I help you today ladies?” Her voice grated almost instantly and at that exact moment, the tallest woman gave her a sharp stare. The serving girl blanked for a second and her face turned white. The woman with the braid across her forehead asked, “What type of wine do you have here?”

“Local vintage,” was all that the serving girl managed to stammer out as the woman continued to stare. The woman’s eyes were an ungodly shade of green, and inside of her head the serving girl muttered prayers to all of the Harmonic Unity.

The shorter black haired woman shook her head. “Stop that Laksis. It is impolite to do such.” Laksis stopped looking at the serving girl and turned her gaze to the short woman. “I’ll do what I have to.” Without looking at her, she then spoke to the serving girl, “A glass of this vintage then.” The girl quickly scurried off to go do as she was bid.

“Do not presume to tell me what to do sister. It makes me terribly annoyed.” Laksis slowly brushed her hair from her shoulder in a calculated movement. As she did so, the flaxen colored girl smiled rather austerely. “We cannot let our guard down for a moment though. I refuse much as you do sisters, to get caught again. Who knows whom she might send for us! I refuse to go back to that,” The girl shuddered.

The brown haired woman laid a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “There, there, I will not allow that to happen to any of us Clothe. Rest assured that we could find someway to be our own masters.” At this moment, there was much ruckus shouting as the bard who had been singing bawdy songs in the corner began a ballad that everyone knew by heart at the time. Clothe fidgeted in her seat. “The music is unnerving sister, may we go somewhere else?”

“No Clothe, we must get used to it. Is it not possible that the Lady could send them after us? I do not think she would not stoop to such a tactic.” Laksis nodded solemnly.

“Atrops is right. We need to find a way that we can be free permanently.”

Clothe smiled slightly. “Sisters, do you remember, when we were first captured by the Lady? Not this Lady, but one from long ago? Do you remember what she said?”

Laksis looked up as the serving girl came back almost instantly. The girl hastily placed the tall glass with the wine down upon the table and then rushed off as Laksis shooed her off with the wave of a hand. She looked at the glass for a long moment and then drank deeply of the glass that sat before her, draining it in one gulp.

“Bitter,” she said. Atrpos tugged at her braid. “Is that all you have to say? Were you expecting the finest in the world?” She made a sour grimace and then looked over towards Clothe. The girl had a wild look in her eyes. “I remember quite well what she said. She mentioned the Grand Tapestry.”

“Precisely.” Clothe’s eyes widened at her sister’s remembrance. “You know it exists right?” Laksis impulsively squeezed the glass in her hand and shattered it. Wine dripped though her fingers as well as blood as the glass shards embedded themselves into her palm. “What?” Her voice was a miasma of awe that startled the other two. Atrops shook her head and gently took Laksis’ hand as she opened it and began to extract the glass shards from it.

“Yes indeed, the current Lady mentioned it a little while back. It was more like a slip up. She mentioned it to that evil man in blue.”

“You mean the Sapherian?” Atrops smiled slightly as she corrected her youngest sister and continued to pick the glass out of Laksis’ hand.

“Yes, yes, the Sapherian,” Clothe waived away the correction as she continued, “you see, she said it was up North. We should ourselves travel to the North and see if it is still really there. If it is, then we would be able to control our own fates!”

Atrops hummed a small note and the cuts in Laksis’ hand healed almost immediately as if they had never been there. “Laksis you have to be more careful. You are fairly strong. I don’t need to crush glasses all the time like you used to. It’s unseemly. Women don’t normally exude that kind of strength. You must be careful not to show it off all of the time, just like I must not show my powers with music and our youngest sister must not show her…”

At that moment, a man walked over to their table; obviously the ladies had not gone unnoticed. “Why hello there ladies,” his voice was slurred with cheep ale and his smile made a little too large buy overconfidence. Laksis merely sniffed and turned away. The man looked at her with a prideful sneer and then turned to Clothe. “Hello there miss,” he leaned in forward quite close to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her expression faded from stoic to annoyed. “How about a drink, and then you tell me what a lady like you is doing here in a tavern like this unclaimed?”

There was a sudden shift as the man fell forwards and Clothe had somehow stepped behind him and wrapped two lengths of string around his neck. Being as she was shorter than him, the man was being bent backwards. He dropped the tankard in his hand and then the entire tavern went silent.

“Don’t ever place a hand on me again.”

The man gurgled as she pulled the strings, which were two distinct cords of thread twined together in an intricate pattern. No one in the tavern had seen her move, but all saw that her chair was knocked over and that she now could kill the man if she wanted to. Everyone in the tavern watched them as she slowly lifted her fingers away from the man’s neck, yet he continued to clutch at them.

“Discord! Sister let him go this instant!” Atrops slammed her hands upon the table as she stood up. Clothe looked at him for a moment and then turned to Atrops. “Do I really have to? He touched me.” She looked livid.

Laksis snorted, “Trying to reclaim a vestige of purity are we?”

“I think it is time we moved on. Let him go and let us leave now while we can.” Atrops was firm in this her decision and Laksis nodded along with her in it. Clothe sighed rather heavily and then made a gesture with her hands. The man who had been suspended in the air by Clothe dropped to the floor suddenly as the invisible strings that were around him vanished. Clothe turned her back on him and spoke to her sisters. “Let’s go now.”

The man however, was a bit enraged, and he picked up the tankard he had in his hand and roared as he swung at Clothe. “How predictable,” was all she said before she ducked down out of the man’s swing, and swiveled her body around to face him. The man was surprised, but not as drunk as he appeared and so he changed his movements so as to bring the large tankard down upon Clothe’s head. She dodged back into the company of her sisters, the man hitting the ground and breaking the wooden floors.

The serving made who had earlier given them drinks screamed and then ran into the kitchens. Clothe’s eyes narrowed as she spoke to the man who began to charge her.

“You have been judged to be a flaw in the Grand Design of things,” she began. She lifted her hands up and out of the air, shimmering into existence was a giant spool of yarn. She ran her hands through it and yanked out a specific thread and then handed it to her sister Laksis.

“You have been found to be wanting because of that flaw in the Grand Design,” continued Laksis. She slowly looped the thread over and over again until it was shimmering silver in the tavern light of the fireplace. Everyone else in the tavern was silent as the innkeeper came back in with the serving wench, a man of middling years; he was about to speak when he was the thread. His mouth dropped open as Laksis held it out by both ends for Atrops.

“You shall now be permanently cut so your flaw does not spread in the Grand Design,” spoke Atrops rather quietly. She raised her left hand into the air and shimmering into existence before her was a pair of long black sheers. They gleamed in the light of the fire.

“With this thread that I have now blended,” started Clothe.

“Your life is what we now wend,” continued Laksis.

“With it cut, your life now end,” finished Atrops.

With that, She lifted the black sheers up into the air and cut the thread in two. At that moment, there was a distant chord that seemed to play throughout the tavern for a moment and then a twanging as if an instrument string had been snapped. At that moment, the man clutched his throat and then grabbed for his heart as he gasped. Then he fell to the floor lifeless.

“Sisters,” spoke Laksis, “I think we should leave now.”

“I agree with you my dear,” Spoke Atrops.

Clothe sneered. “He touched me.” With that said, she lifted her skirts up and walked out without so much as a look back. Her other sisters followed her into the dark of night where they donned their hoods and vanished. The tavern remained silent.

Oracle Chapter 5

2003-08-06T16:10:05Z

V: Running in the Dark

Night ensued as the stars sparkled in the dark sky. Darkness had fallen a while ago and the gates of the city of Danmoors had had shut behind them. Auraia clutched his pith’olth in both hands. As he rode with Lyzanor, he would continually look back to the city, watching for the gates to open and for his brother to appear. The gates never opened when he turned to look though. It was making Lyzanor increasingly irritated.

The two horses cantered along the dirt road, packhorse in tow. In the distance, the Illensenarias loomed and shadowed the distant pass. The trees continued in the distance, getting denser. A little up the road, there was a bend, which was covered by a bunch of trees. Luc raised a single hand to signal a slowing down and an eventual halt.

“We’ll hide in the trees until the other two make it out of the city. After that, we will continue on towards the pass. We can all figure out what happens after we get through.” Nor nodded his head and looked irritable as Auraia looked back at the gates of the city. Although it was not far, the city still looked smaller than it actually was. The mountains of the Tithenarias whose shadows they were in made the city look smaller. If it was on the Southern Planes, then it might look the size it was. As Lyzanor motioned his horse into the trees, he looked at Luc. He still could not see his face under the cowl. It bothered him.

The horses settled once they stopped. Lyzanor’s horse nickered once and then was silent. Auraia brushed a stray hair out of his face. He paused a moment and then looked to Luc. “Sen’ai,” he began in a whispered tone. A sudden crack in the air signaled the gate of Danmors opening. Out of the now open gates cantered a single horse with two riders. In the darkness thought, it was hard to tell who the riders were.

Auraia was about to call out when Luc held out his hand again to stop him. The small Sulinis’faie looked offended by Lyzanor’s standard, but whatever the look conveyed, it was quickly gone from his face. The figures on the horse came closer and Lyzanor recognized the slight frame of Telarai. He looked at the cowl of Luc’s cloak and noticed that it nodded ever so slightly. Lyzanor kneed his horse slightly and then it stepped forward out of the trees, almost materializing on the road in front of the riders next to Luc’s horse. There was a startled curse as Jerrak reined his own horse in.

“Scare us to death…” Jerrak muttered under his breath. Lyzanor chuckled and smiled. “Most people if scared enough have their hair turn white, you on the other hand; I don’t think your hair could get any whiter.” He was about to laugh when suddenly the remnants of the ‘faie wine kicked in and he grabbed his stomach. Auraia, who had grinned at the joke, continued to over Lyzanor’s discomfort with the wine. Luc smiled under his hood though no one could see it. Telarai put a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. Jerrak didn’t smile, but looked over at him and said, “Looks like the drunkard is learning.”

At this Lyzanor snarled and regained composure over himself. They began down the road again, the mood as sullen and somber as it had initially started, but even more tense than before. At the front, Luc rode calmly leading everyone else, black staff in one hand, and reigns to his horse in the other. Behind him, Lyzanor and Auraia rode silently, the Sulinis’faie still clutching his precious instrument, nor wondering on whether or not Luc had in it in the tavern. Behind them all riding on Dakar were Jerrak and Telarai, the packhorse in tow. The road was far to narrow for them to ride three abreast at this point.

“Where did you get that staff?” Jerrak’s question echoed around them, shattering the silence that was surrounding them all. Luc slowed his horse down, allowing for the riders on Dakar to catch up. As they rode side by side, Luc spoke in his normal measured tone. “The couple at the Chandlery gave it to me.” Telarai nodded and Jerrak stared at Luc blankly.

“Gave it to you?” The look of confusion was unmistakable.

“They said that they had found it and that it had never really belonged to them. They wanted me to have it.” With that said, Luc spurred his horse forward back into the front of the riders. As they rode Lyzanor looked towards them and spoke his own questions.

“You didn’t have trouble getting out of the city?” the question was obviously posed at Telarai who sat calmly behind Jerrak, his hand still wrapped around his waist. His eyes danced in the darkness as he smiled slightly. “We didn’t have any trouble at all. What did you tell the guards to get out of the city?”

“Luc told the old man that we were bounty hunters,” Lyzanor told him. “Told him that your brother was a quarry we were after and that we were off to collect the reward money. He believed us, but told us it was going to cost to get out of the city; also extracted a promise that he would tell no one.” At this Lyzanor chuckled loudly. “It did take you some time to get out of the city though…” Lyzanor paused and then winced at the pain in his head, which was starting to grow again.

Although the question remained unasked, Jerrak answered it anyways. “There were some guards. They came by the gate a little after you left. They wanted the gatekeeper to keep the gates shut.” Auraia looked at them quizzically, Jerrak continued. “We waited for the guards to leave and then convinced the old man to let us out and leave.” At this, a large smile appeared on Telarai’s face.

“How did you do that?” Auraia nodded his head to Lyzanor’s question.

“I told the old man that we were lovers trying to escape from my father. If he didn’t let us out, my father would put me under permanent house arrest and then murder my lover here.” At this, Lyzanor’s eyebrows went upwards. Jerrak turned a visible shade of red in the night’s darkness. The horses cantered on to the top of a rise that overlooked the city of Danmoors. Nestled as it was in the base of the Tithenarias, the city was lit up in the bright splendor of torchlight. Suddenly, along one of the wall, a gate opened up and out poured riders on horses.

Luc cursed out loud. He kneed his horse rather forcefully and it spun, rearing slightly. “They must have figured out that we are not in the city any longer. We had better start running now.” Telarai’s grip around Jerrak’s waist tightened as Jerrak urged Dakar to run after the now galloping Luc and Nor. Auraia clasped his pitch’olth as if the wind were going to tear it out of his grasp.

The night sky was perfectly clear. Not a cloud was in the sky and the stars were shining bright. However, the pale glow of the moon was also bearing down from the sky and it illuminated Luc’s white cloak. Lyzanor cursed to himself out loud. “Towards the trees damn you! We have to get off of the road!” His voice carried up to Luc, where he refuted it. “No, we can’t go into the trees, too hard to move.” Luc urged his horses down the road faster. The others followed. Off in the distance, they could hear the galloping and frantic searching of the guards with the sigil of the sunburst across their chests.

The trees continued to close in around them and the road spread out a bit thicker. Telarai looked towards his brother. Auraia’s eyes were tightly shut now. Lyzanor looked back at Luc and spoke, “What are you doing?” Luc motioned to a bend in the road. “We’re taking a high road!”

“What are you talking about?” Dakar’s hooves pounded against the ground, gaining speed and allowing Jerrak to answer his question. Luc smiled under his hood. “There is a pass road which overlooks the Trade road in Arrow Pass. It’s not used very much. We are going to take that.” Just as suddenly as his decision was made, he wound his hands into the mane of his horse and jerked its neck towards a copse of trees. Lyzanor growled under his breath and called out, “By all the saints of Nadiria!” his horse swerved too, following Luc. There was nothing for Telarai and Jerrak to do but to follow suit.

As they continued through the trees, a small math became apparent. They were still going at a gallop however, and the path was perilously thin. Lyzanor cursed as he tried to keep up with Luc who seemed to know ever turn and gap and curve and seemed to be making it well without any assistance. Tree branches collided with faces, threatening with each blow to knock someone off of their horse, but no one fell. Almost as sudden as the turn was the change of scenery. The trees became less dense to the point of there no longer being any and the chasm of Arrow Pass became apparent. Beneath them, if they were to fall, it would be to death.

Telarai gripped onto Jerrak “I don’t like heights very much,” he whispered. Jerrak whispered back hurriedly, “Your Sulinis’faie and you don’t like heights?”

“I never said that I was perfect,” hissed Telarai.

As they continued at the galloping pace, they looked into the space below them, and saw the torches of the guards still. They were rushing to the pass and with a great deal of speed. Suddenly, a rock dislodged from the side of the mountain and went tumbling down the side. As the rock was rather large, it was quite hard to miss it striking a guard in the head and killing him instantly. As the guard slid wordlessly from his horse, only to be trampled a few times by his fellow riders, one noticed the dead man and where the rock came from and looked. At that moment, he saw them and pointed upwards. All of them looked and Luc cursed.

It was at that moment when the path came to a stop. Part of the path had been washed out and all that remained was a perilous jump. A little down the side was another path but it was closer to the guards. “Follow me,” cried Luc as he forced his horse to jump down the side of the mountain hillside to the other path. Without thinking, the other two followed him, making the jump with ease.

“That technically should have lamed the horses!”

“Don’t worry Lyzanor,” cried Luc as they continued to gallop down the sides towards the pass. “Just call it a bit of extreme luck!” At this Lyzanor simply shook his head. Behind them, the guards were riding faster. Nor snarled savagely. “I don’t think that we will be able to out run them Luc. We will have to fight them.”

Luc grinned slightly under his hood.

As he wheeled his horse around, he spoke, “Then fight we shall!”

“I don’t have a weapon to fight them with!” Jerrak was frantic for a moment. Telarai looked over at Luc. “Sen’ai! You can’t be serious!” As Luc pulled a stiletto from within the confines of his robe, Telarai’s mouth dropped open. Auraia was not in a better mood either. As Lyzanor jerked his sword free from the scabbard on his back, he swung it in hand in a circle once and pulled on the rains of the horse. Promptly, he dropped Auraia off of the horse. “Get into the woods. Wait there with Jerrak and your brother. This is man’s work here. With that, he shoved the poor ‘faie towards the forest. Jerrak and Telarai both got off of Dakar and rushed into the forest.

The men galloped up behind them and Lyzanor rushed into the fray of them instantly. Swinging his sword, he caught the first guard by surprise and swung his sword right through the man’s belly, slicing it up fairly easily. The man’s mouth frothed with blood momentarily as he fell off of his horse. As Lyzanor swung his sword again He slammed it into the collarbone of another guard and it stuck fast. With a great wrenching twist that was accompanied by the pull of his horse, Lyzanor dragged the man of his own horse and off of his sword. “Nadiria be praised!” His voice rang with praise for his goddess.

Another man in the blue uniform drove his sword right near Luc. Luc swerved as fast as he could and then slammed his stiletto into the man’s wrist. Jerking it free, a steam of blood spurted onto his white cloak causing what appeared to be a brilliant streak of brown on his cloak. He then slammed his stiletto down again into the man’s side as he looked on in disbelief at his wrist. The sword had fallen to the ground with a think against the dirt path.

Jerrak looked to Telarai with a frantic look in his eyes. “Don’t you know any magic? It could be fairly useful right now!”

Telarai shook his head. “I never got proper training. I can only do what my clan can do at the very slightest, and all that is weaving charms!” He looked to Auraia, but he only clutched his instrument to his chest even tighter than he already had.

A guard slammed his blade towards Lyzanor and it clanged in the air against the blade he was wielding. Luc slammed his knife into the back of another and as he rode onwards towards Lyzanor, slashed another across the throat. Blood bubbled up from the cut and spurted out into the air like a fountain as he fell to the ground with his hands clutching at his throat. Lyzanor swung his sword backwards, slamming the butt of it into a man’s head and knocking him off of a horse. Since he was near the woods, Jerrak picked up a rather large rock and threw it with as much force as he could muster and hit the man on the head. He fell to the ground and didn’t move.

The two ‘faie looked on in utter silence. Luc spurred his horse again, but the animal reared and almost threw him off. Luc frantically clutched the mane of the horse, and in effect, dropped his knife. Lyzanor was still fighting with a guard and the swords meeting together as they fought on horseback were resounding. Suddenly, Lyzanor swung his sword underneath the other one, and spiraled it into a circle, knocking the sword out of the man’s hand. Two guards, who had been looking on, broke into a gallop and ran.

Nor lifted his sword up and at the last minute swiveled the blow so that instead of cutting of the man’s head, he made a great gash into the man’s sword arm. The man screamed and then fell off his horse in a dead faint. As Luc saw the others trying to escape, he cantered his horse over to where he dropped his knife and scooped it up. In on deft throw, he flung it at one of the remaining guards. It struck square in the middle of his back and the man fell off of the now galloping horse. Telarai shook his head and Jerrak looked at him pleadingly one last time. Jerrak closed his eyes tight. “I don’t want them to find me!”

There was a brilliant flash of white followed by a rumble and everyone put up a hand to cover their eyes. When the flash was gone, Auraia looked as white as a sheet. All color from his face had been drained. Telarai had a similar look, as did Jerrak.

“What in the name of Nadiria was that?” Lyzanor’s voice boomed around the small clearing in which they had fought. Luc looked over at the three standing in the woods. Whatever it had been, they were just as surprised as he and Lyzanor were. He shook his head.

“Not sure. If I know, you would be the first to know. Everyone should get ready to leave though.” As the others mounted up, Auraia with Lyzanor, Jerrak and Telarai on Dakar, Luc went over to where the guard had fallen with his knife in his back. As he pulled his stiletto from the man’s back, he saw the other man’s body. It had been rather badly burned. He looked at the body with some confusion, and then turned his horse to the others. “We leave now,” he spoke. No one argued with his judgment.

Oracle Chapter 4

2003-08-06T16:07:31Z

IV: Escape

LAYING back on the couch with his hand on his forehead, Lyzanor heard the two walking back into the room. He had been in and out of it due to the ‘faie wine that he had been drinking all night. He had had four bowls of it; two of the mountains brew at the inn and two here at the brothel. He had no clue what the one he had been drinking at the brothel were, but he could have sworn that it had a more tart flavor to it, most likely an extra ingredient that had been placed into the wine.

He groaned as a hand tried to comfort him. He knew that it was Auraia, but somehow, that didn’t make it better. The boy was muttering something in muted tones, but what it was, he couldn’t decipher. He groaned again this time louder. “Please stop… your making me nervous…” The boy stopped muttering.

Jerrak rolled his eyes as he looked on at Lyzanor. “One would think he was trying…” Telarai shook his head. “He’s drunk. Completely. We brew our own ‘faie wine here at the house. It’s almost twice as potent as the ones that are traded out of the Illensenarias. Plus ours has an aphrodisiac in it… it makes a person slightly breathless…”

“Should have told me earlier… it obviously does not agree with me,” Lyzanor growled as he lay on the couch. His stomach turned and he groaned again. Jerrak walked over and poked Lyzanor in the side. Lyzanor growled again and then tried to swipe at him. Jerrak danced out of the way and took a step back. “He’s not going to be a very good sport,” he said looking back at Telarai. Telarai nodded his head at this.

“As just a question Telarai, how were you going to help us?” Jerrak looked at Telarai who was musing about how funny Lyzanor was. He turned to the white-haired individual and spoke in even tones. “We actually aren’t going to get you out of the city. We are just a safe haven until someone comes and takes you out.” Jerak’s eyes all but popped out of his skull. “What? You’re not going to take us out? Then who is?”

As if to answer his question, there was a sharp rapt upon the door. Everyone looked at the door, except Lyzanor, who was too busy cradling his stomach. Auraia turned to his brother with wide eyes.

“Elú irasias? Maiaö vou’ën iriaalea eíah averiéras?”
(Don’t worry? Who could that be brother?)

Telarai snapped back at his brother.

“Dou’oi irasiasn! Shi’ena uisioüa eris nou’geoüs.”
(Stop worrying! Threatening everyone is not.)

Auraia paused for a moment, his eyes even wider than they were before. He had been chastised, but never in front of people, and never before had his brother raised his voice. His eyes began to water and he looked down and away from his older brother.

Sensing what he had done, Telarai quickly walked over to his brother and put an arm around him. “Tou’ouí isou eüan. Tou’oui…” (Sorry I am. Sorry…) Auraia began to cry and then, he began to sputter in Sulinin rather fast. Every now and then, Telarai would respond with, “Isou cozuön.” (I know.) Jerrak shook his head. He knew too what it was like in the strict code of the Sulinin. Although, how a Sulinin had gotten up into the mountains, he didn’t know.

Suddenly, the knock came again, this time louder and more urgent. A muffled voice came through. “Isou eüan gere’ai eris’t víorês’ ïnak! Oler’iá!” (I am a stranger far from home! Open!) At this, Jerrak looked to Telarai, who looked back at him. “Well don’t just stand there,” he hissed. “Open the door! He is most likely the one who has come to take you out of the city!”

“How do we know?” Both of them turned to Lyzanor, who was now painfully sitting up as best as he could on the small couch. “It could be a trick of some sort by the people who are after Jerrak here.” He jabbed a finger at him, only to wince in pain at the sudden motion. Jerrak turned towards Telarai, who looked back at him with curiousness.

“What does he mean the people who are after you? Have you done something?”

Jerak shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. We don’t know why they are after me.”

There was a loud banging on the door, followed by a curse. Then, “Telarai ‘Aüon Jelath Immeiasras! Oler’iá itaien poor’al!” ([Telarai’s full name]! Open this door!)

There was no mistaking it in Telarai’s ears. Auraia jerked his head up at the first part. Even Jerrak and Lyzanor lifted their heads to the door when they heard Telarai’s name. Jerrak turned to the ‘faie on the bed and said, “Did he just call out your full name?” Telarai nodded dumbfounded. “Well then open the damn door!” Lyzanor bellowed out, “We’re coming!” All three other people turned towards him and stared. “It couldn’t be the people who are after Jerrak! That’s for sure!”

Telarai nodded to Jerrak and he slowly walked over to the door. Then he shook his head. “It wouldn’t serve for me to open the door when they asked for you…” Telarai nodded and then got up from where he had been cradling his brother’s form. His brother sniffled for a moment and then sat quietly on the bench that was at the foot of the bed. He didn’t look up though and Jerrak felt sorry for him. He most likely had to leave his home at an early age.

Telarai opened the door and then stopped, as he was about to say something. All Lyzanor and Jerrak could see was the back end of the door. As he stood in the doorway, his jaw worked as he tried to say something. Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to say it. Auraia looked over at the door and then jumped up from his seat. “Sen’ai!” (Sybil/Mystic!) Jerrak turned at this. He had never learned his heritage language, but he knew that what ever it was that Auraia had yelled out, it was an important person.

As Telarai backed up, in walked a cloaked figure. “Are you always so indecisive as to whether or not to answer the door?” At that moment, both Lyzanor and Jerrak knew who it was. “Luc! Thank Nadiria that it’s you!” Lyzanor nodded in Luc’s direction with his head. “Sorry if I don’t get up to give you a proper welcome, but I am slightly indisposed as of right now. Too much ‘faie wine.”

Luc turned in his direction. “You didn’t drink the stuff that Tela and his brother brew here did you? Ghastly stuff, makes you light-headed and rather horny…” Jerrak expected Luc to be grimacing under his hood. He smiled, and tried to cover it behind a hand. Lyzanor simply groaned. Auraia bowed deeply at the waist and spoke to Luc.

“Miâlora Sen’ai, eris misa eil’taniä isou reina ithen sié’ol?” (Welcome Sen’ai, is there anything I offer may you?)

Luc shook his head. “Please stop being so formal with me; that is all Auraia. I have been formal all night.” He turned to Jerrak and Lyzanor. “I trust that you two didn’t have too bad a time finding this place?”

Lyzanor growled at Luc. “You didn’t tell me that ‘Melody’ was actually a boy! I though that ‘he’ was a ‘she’! How can you leave something like that out of what you told us?” Lyzanor was clearly agitated by the fact. Telarai shook his head and caught Jerrak smirking. Lyzanor would have sworn that Luc was too under his cowl when he said, “I didn’t tell you that? Oh, well I am sorry about the misunderstanding.”

Lyzanor shook his head with disgust. Telarai looked over at Lyzanor with mock shock in his eyes. “Am I really that bad?” Lyzanor rolled his eyes at the comment. Jerrak looked at Luc with a serious look in his eyes. As he brushed his hair out of his eyes he spoke, “What is the plan now?” Everyone turned to look at Luc. He frowned in the cover of his hood. He took a few steps forward and then closed the door behind him.

“We’re going to have to make it quick. I have horses ready for us outside and they are waiting for us with provisions. Did you know that you were meant to have committed treason?” Jerrak gave Luc a funny look. Telarai looked at him with a funny look as well.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Luc walked over to Jerrak and clapped him on the back. “You are wanted for treason! As soon as you two left, one of the city guards came into the tavern looking for you, said you committed treason. I just barely escaped due to Lyzanor’s new girlfriend at the tavern… by the way, she says hello to you.” Lyzanor simply nodded noncommittally, clutching his stomach still, Goddess did the wine burn!

Telarai looked startled. “What is wrong with you? You’re usually so collected. Is something wrong?”

“No Sen’ai, it’s just that some of the city guard came here looking for me! They said I was to be brought in for treason against the crown of Nalmia as well! Thank gods Catterinia said I was gone!”

Luc lifted a hand to the inside of his cowl. No one was sure as to whether he was scratching his chin or biting his nails. As his hand went down to rest on his thigh, he spoke form the hood with an indifferent tone. “This changes everything you know.” Luc swore under his breath. His cowl turned to Lyzanor.

“Are you still up to staying with us? After all, if they find out that you were with us, they might as well clap you in irons too.”

Lyzanor nodded glumly. “No one can ever say that a blessed of Nadiria ever turned down an adventure…” he grabbed his stomach again. “Goddess! Make the damn pain go away!” Luc shook his head. “I don’t think that it mixes well with the stuff that you had at the tavern. Those are some bad drinking habits you have.”

Jerrak looked at Luc incredulously. “Um, are we still all there? I just listened to guards ask for him,” he pointed at Telarai, “Because he is wanted for treason! Then you walk in and tell me that I’m wanted for treason too, most likely the same one, and all you can remark on is the fact that Lyzanor has bad drinking habits?”

Luc turned back towards Jerrak who was still standing next to him and said nothing at first. The silence dragged on until the door suddenly slammed open. Auraia cursed out loud in Sulinin. Telarai spun on his heel to see whom it was, as did Jerrak. Luc simply looked up. Lyzanor growled and then yelled, “Does everybody have to invite themselves into this damn room!”

Luc smiled under his cowl.

It was Catterinia. She had a worried look on her face. She went straight to Telarai. “I assume that you’ve heard Melody dear? They want you! They said that you have committed treason against the crown of Nalmia!” She grabbed him by the arms and then began to shake him back and forth lightly. “Say it isn’t true!” At that moment, Luc chuckled out loud.

“No my dear Catterinia, it isn’t true to our knowledge, however, if you would like to investigate it yourself, then you are more than welcome to.” At the sound of his voice, Catterinia turned around and looked at him surprised. “How in Malctun did you get inside?” Under the cowl, Luc smiled. “I simply came in through the door. Sammel told me where to find Telarai.”

Catterinia clutched a hand to her chest. “Oh it’s awful Master Luc! Awful! I guess you heard my outburst.” Here Catterinia took a moment to breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was a bit more composed. “Guards, city guards, came here and asked for me to turn over Melody! I spun them a yarn! Oh hon, you must have heard it. Sammel was the first to intercept them at the door. He always is when guards come here.”

She paused again to catch her breath and Jerrak noticed that she never once did call Telarai by his Sulin’ name. Maybe she couldn’t say it, but Jerrak wouldn’t have put it past her to know how to speak Sulinin too.

“Oh, I told them that you had gone on to Luxin…”

“Thank god woman. For a minute there, I thought that I had to worry. We will be headed through the Arrow Pass, towards Maruch then.” At this point, Catterinia glared at Luc for interrupting her.

“As I was saying before Master Luc interrupted. They are also here again. They have some two-bit hussy outside with them now, who claims to have seen your friend and another man.” As she said it, she pointed to Jerrak and the incapacitated Lyzanor. “Apparently hon, your friend there with the white hair is wanted for treason against the Crown of Nalmia as well, and his friend is wanted because he’s his accomplice in the crime!”

She wrung her hands at this. “I don’t know what we have gotten into this time hon, but I don’t know if I can smooth it over like I did before. I told Sammel to go and tell you after he came to me and told me what it was that the guards wanted. I thought that it was for the simple pleasure... oh no.” Lyzanor shook his head. This woman was simply a chatterbox behind closed doors. This was not the woman whom he had met when they had originally come asking for Telarai.

“Oh god, and then they came back with that hussy, who says that she was treated badly, and she won’t shut up! She won’t stop talking about how they came looking for you! She even told them that they stopped to ask for directions. They demand to see the entire place! Sammel is with them right now trying to calm everyone down! I don’t know what to do!”

Jerrak cursed out loud. He whirled on Nor. “I told you that she was bad trouble! I told you that!” As Jerrak continued to curse Lyzanor gave him an annoyed look. “If it weren’t for our damn hair though, we wouldn’t be in this god-forsaken mess!” Jerrak stopped in mid curse as he heard what Lyzanor said. He turned around looking at him with wide eyes.

“Oh will all of you stop this! This is making my head hurt!” Luc broke the silence with his complaint. “If you hadn’t noticed, we need to get out of this city. And I’m telling you right now that it won’t happen with all of us sitting here and saying random things!”

With that, Luc moved towards the door. He then turned around directly in front of it and began. “Catterinia! Stick to your story that Telarai and his brother have left towards Luxin. Tell the guards that you have not seen this white haired stranger or his friend and say that you have just asked all the boys and none of them have seen him either. Stick to this story no matter what!” The certainty in Luc’s voice made her nod.

“I’ll be doin’ that now. The less I know, the less I can tell them later.” Catterinia moved to open the door and leave when Luc put out a hand. “Mes’oui Raxis’.” (Shadow Luck) His tone was serious as he waited. She looked into the hood, not for the first time in her life and spoke, “Shadow Luck to you too Master Luc, and Light too to you.”

“Luxiator Raxis’ (Light Luck) to you too.” Luc spoke in his grave tone again. Catterinia gripped his hand in a vice and then walked out the door, closing it behind her.

Turning to Telarai and Auraia, he motioned to them. “Get your stuff together. We’re taking you with us.” At this, there was a protest from Jerrak. “You can’t be serious!”

“I have never been more so in my life. I put them in this mess somehow, and so now, I guess I will have to help weave them out of it. Unless you would like to go and turn yourself and them in…” Lyzanor just grunted. He was no longer one for talk. Luc motioned to the door.

“As soon as you two are ready, we will be heading off.”

At this, Lyzanor cursed. “My horse is still at the inn! What the hell am I going to do about that?”

Luc smiled at the big man and spoke in soft tones. “The stable boy there will most likely keep your horse until tomorrow. At such time, I will ask Catterinia to send someone over to go get it and they’ll bring it here to be kept until you can get it again. Don’t worry… nothing bad will happen to it and I’ve bought you another already.” Lyzanor grunted again and then kept silent, who was he to argue?

Auraia scampered around the room, picking up a few things here and there and stuffing them into a bag. He threw it over to his brother, who caught it. He turned to Luc. “We have everything Sen’ai.” After this, Telarai turned to his brother and then spoke in a hushed tone. The youth’s eyes widened and he said something back, which was clipped. He was unhappy about something, but no one in the room seemed to understand at the moment what it was about.

“Fine, go get it.” Telarai threw his hands up in defeat and Auraia ran out of the room. “We are to meet him downstairs. Where are the horses Sen’ai?” Luc motioned to the stairs.

“In the stable, where else?” Jerrak made a sound of unhappiness and then moved to lift his hood. After a second thought he didn’t. As they shuffled out of the room Luc paused for a moment. It was at this moment that Jerrak realized exactly how tall he was. When he was sitting, he seemed almost childlike, but when he was standing, he was actually a good hand-span taller than Jerrak.

“I’ll tell Catterinia to get Lyzanor’s horse in the morning. I too will meet you in the stables.” Everyone nodded except for Lyzanor and then shifted, the party trying to make as little noise as possible. As they reached the end of the hall, Auraia darted up the stairs in front of them. Telarai snapped something to his brother, in which his brother smiled and said something that appeared to be a cheeky answer in Sulinin. He had a large grin on his face.

At this, he held up what he was holding in his hands. It was a small instrument that was shaped in the bottom like a rather large circle. On the top, there were two long pieces that were attached and jutted out of the instrument at an angle, which also ended in small circles of wood. Between these circles, another curved piece of wood connected the two. Upon which, there were strings which attached the main body as well. The strings counted nine in all, but for some reason, there had been added more strings to bring the total up to thirteen.

The wood itself was a rather pale version of what appeared to be maple, but the wood seemed more durable like white oak. Also, there were inlays of cherry wood in the instruments backside. It was a set of complicated knot designs that appeared to be in the shape of endless designs.

“It’s his pitch’olth,” explained Telarai. “It was his first gifting that he received from me when he learned how to play. It was what he brought with him when we came here to this city.” Lyzanor smiled as politely as he could while clutching his stomach. “How very nice. I hope that at sometime you will play it for us…” At this, he got a rather lewd grin and said something in Sulinin to him and then bounded down to the bottom of the stairs.

“What did he say?”

Telarai blushed and then spoke in a low tone. “You would rather not know.” Jerak hurried down the stairs after Auraia and so did Telarai, leaving Lyzanor to try to figure out what just happened.

As they got to the bottom of the stairs, they could hear the heated debate of what was going on in the other rooms.

“I’m tellin’ you,” said a woman’s voice, “That they asked me for Catterinia’s and then they hightailed it out towards here! I know that they came here! I know it! The little one, he had dark eyes! I recognized the description that the guards were walking around with and so I know that they had to be them! Don’t tell me that I’m wrong!”

The woman had to be the prostitute that they had met in the street. Jerrak shook his head. The voice of another person was coming through. “I’m sorry, but I have been here all night and I have had yet to see anyone… Everybody who comes here enjoys discretion as well; I can’t just let you go running thorough here! I would gladly let you, but it isn’t Catterinia’s policy! I just…” He was cut off again by the voice of another person, most likely a guard.

“I know what you policies are Sammel, but you are going to have to let us go through here…” At this, someone broke into sobs. The woman’s voice scoffed. “He’s just fakin’ it. I can do that too.” The woman was obviously unforgiving. Another voice came though. “Now Sammel, please don’t cry…” It was another guard. He seemed to know Sammel a little better. There was yet another voice that spoke in the room.

“Now look what you’ve gone and done, you’ve scared poor Sammel. He has always been so nice to everyone.”

“I don’t care who he is nice to, I just know that he is harboring the fugitives here!” The voice was clipped. As they stood there, the bustling form of Catterinia came down the hall.

“What are you all doing here?” Her voice was a hiss. “Go! Luc is waiting for you! We have arranged everything to get you out; now go!” She began to shove people down the hall and there was nothing that they could do about it. As they shifted down the hallway, Lyzanor could still hear what was going on. His hearing was slightly better than normal, a trait he had had since he was child, but he never much thought about it.

“How dare you, you little hussy slut! How dare you treat my boys with so much disrespect!”

There was the sound of a slap.

“Get out of here! I don’t ever want to see you in here again! If I do, I will rip you into shreds!”

“As if you damn…”

“Ladies, please!”

Lyzanor chuckled to himself as he listened to the last vestiges of the conversation drift away. There was nothing better than a good old-fashioned catfight. He continued to smile as they wound down out through the courtyard and into a small section at the back of the bordello. There, Luc was waiting, mounted on a chestnut horse. Another boy, short and truly black haired, scampered around the stables, and apparently, checking last minute things.

Auraia walked over, and placed a hand on the ostler’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Esserin. We will be perfectly okay.” It was the first time that Jerrak had heard him speak something other than Sulinin in a sentence that seemed remotely reassuring. The boy nodded and then waited where he was. Luc turned to a horse and pointed to it.

“That one is for you Nor. I figured that you would like a temperamental beast that gave you about as much respect as you gave it. You’ll get used to him.” The horse was a dark gelding that was larger than the rest of the horses that were there. Lyzanor nodded weakly and then took the reigns.

“That one is for you Jerrak…” Luc pointed to a mountain pony that was gray and had black spots upon its rump. “The boys called him Dakar, its Illen’ for ‘beast’. I figure you and him can get along rather well, seeing as you have ‘faie blood in you. He seems to be… rather quiet around those kinds of people. Safe to say that he was bred by the Illen’faie.”

Jerrak nodded and walked over to the horse. It whuffed once and then pawed the ground. It lifted its head to sniff him and then stood there impassively. Jerrak climbed into the saddle that was in place and the horse made a noise again.

The other two boys that were there stood there looking at Luc. He stared back impassively and then spoke to them. “I’m sorry, but you two will have to ride double with Jerrak and Nor until we get out of the town, in which case, I will make a better riding arrangements for you and your brother. For right now, the other horse is just a pack horse.” He smiled rather broadly and then said, “Choose who you want to be with…”

Telarai immediately walked over to Jerrak and smiled up at him. “I can ride with you, if you will allow me to.” Jerrak stiffened a moment and a look crossed his face that Telarai could not place. He nodded and then held out a hand to the boy on the ground. He took it and helped himself up, sitting directly behind Jerrak. His small pack was slung over his back and he wrapped his arms around Jerrak’s waist.

“Aren’t you going to be cold out there? Don’t you have a cloak?”

“No need to worry for me,” Telarai smiled politely at him. “Some of my clients were a little… odd. Just say that I’m used to the cold.” Jerrak pursed his lips and said no more.

Nor directed his horse over to other boy and helped him into the saddle. Afterwards, he jumped on behind him and grabbed hold of the reigns. “Let’s get out of here before anything else decides to happen to us poor folks.” He then kneed his horse and the beast went out of the stable yard. Luc followed him and Jerak and Telarai followed him as well.

As they cantered into the street, Luc took the lead. “Follow me and everything I say and we should be good. Just make sure you play along at the gates.” They nodded and then began to twist down the streets with the other horse in tow. The horse acted like a packhorse, carrying everything that the others were not carrying, such as their supplies. However, no one was in the streets otherwise they would have seen that the group made that night was indeed a strange one.

As they went though the guard less streets, they came up shot of the main street that led to the gate. “Remember, follow my lead!” It was more of an order and a command than anything else. As if by second thought, he said, “Jerrak, pull up your cowl. We don’t want them to see your hair. They might track you.” Jerrak nodded and then realized that he had been traveling with it down. Mumbling a curse, he reached to pull it up when Telarai pulled it up for him. He nodded his thanks.

As they fell into line behind Luc, they headed down the main road towards the gate; there were no other guards. As they rode however feelings went through them all. Through Jerrak, the hope of not being caught was foremost in his mind. Telarai had not once let go of his grip, which he held around Jerrak’s waist and he too was thinking of the same thing. Lyzanor however, was not apt to thinking anything as of at that moment and as for Auraia, he spoke nothing.

“Here is where we split up for the time being.” Luc’s voice had a finality to it that seemed to escape the others. Telarai looked in his direction from behind Jerrak. “Split up?” his voice echoed what was in everyone else’s minds. Luc shook his cowl and spoke again; “We are too big of a group to be seen together. We are a group of five, which might arouse the gatekeeper’s suspicions. We have to assume that he has been told not to let anyone out of the gates. If that were the case, then we would have to explain a lot. If we go out in two separate groups, then we can get out of here alright.”

No one bothered to argue with him.

Luc pointed to Telarai and Jerrak. You two stay here and wait until we have been out of the gates for a bit. Then come to exit from the gates. Wait here though.” The urgency in Luc’s voice told them that they should stay. As they sat on the mountain pony in the shadows, they watched the others ride up to the door and Luc tap on the door with his foot. They watched the scene unfold from a distance.

“Travelers.” His voice was loud and the door opened with a wide swing.

“So? Am I supposed to care?” The man was tall, thin, and rather old. He seemed the type who was always had his nose in things. He had a ring of white hair that slid down a little past his ears. It was in bad shape and in sore need of a cutting. From afar, even Jerrak could see that the top of his head was patched with spots, most likely due to too much drinking.

“We wish to leave here,” was all Luc said.

The old man frowned for a moment and then said, “Doesn’t everybody? What makes you so special that you be wanting to leave now?” Luc did not even flinch at the old man’s outburst. “We just want to leave the town. We have been here too long and we must leave.”

“What’s your reason?” The old man tried to peer into Luc’s cowl.

Luc sighed dramatically and then spoke in a lower voice that did not carry all the way to where Telarai and Jerrak waited. After a moment, the old man rubbed his chin and then rubbed his palms together. The man spoke ion a low voice, but it carried out to them. “It’s going to cost you,” was all they could hear. Luc’s hands outstretched and some coins dropped into the old man’s waiting hands. There was a fake smile on the man’s face, but he opened the gates and wished them off. Afterwards, he closed the gate and then hobbled back into the gatehouse.

At that precise moment, a set of guards came around a corner and walked over to the gate. Jerrak held his breath and so did Telarai. The guards paused for a moment and banged on the gatehouse door. The old man answered it again and he seemed rather harried at that moment. Jerrak slowly eased the horse further back into the shadows that they were sitting in. The guards seemed to get angry with the old man and then the man, seemingly more annoyed than ever, began to make threatening gestures.

“Danmoors may have a city guard,” the old man roared, “but they do not control the cities gates!” At this, the guards backed down and then left. Telarai let out an audible sigh and let go his grip slightly and it was only then that Jerrak realized that not only had he been holding his breath, but also how tight Telarai was holding him.

After waiting some time, Jerrak edged the horse out of the shadows and slowly cantered towards the gate. They reached the gate without being caught by the guards and the large doors were closed. There was nothing to see in the darkness of night, but Jerrak sensed that the weather was going to change for the worse. As for the sense of doom that seemed so high, he wasn’t sure about that either. He rode up to the gatehouse door and then kicked at it.

There was the sound of a grumble inside and the door swung open as he was proclaiming them travelers. He was cut off mid word by the old man. “What is it now?” He looked at the two and Jerrak swallowed hard. Telarai’s grip around his waist tightened a slight bit. “We wish to leave through the gates.”

“Apparently no one is allowed to leave anymore; order of the city guard. Not that I pay to much attention to them. Bunch of idiots if you ask me. I’m sorry though, I can’t let anyone through, and they’re lookin’ for someone.” At this moment, Telarai took over. “But we need to leave sir, it’s a matter of life and death!”

At this, the man’s ears twitched. “Isn’t it always,” was all he said. Telarai spoke out again. “You don’t understand. It’s my father.” The old man turned around from where he had turned his back on them.

“Oh is that so?”

Telarai nodded once, his voice a perfect adaptation to fear. The tone frightened Jerrak as how hollow it was. “We’ve been hiding for sometime. We’re lovers and you see, we wished to escape the tyranny of my father.” As if to emphasize the point, Jerrak’s face remained impassively stony. Telarai also made an emphasis to squeeze Jerrak. Jerrak sat there, slightly uncomfortable at the whole idea.

“These men agreed to help us out, but this morning, we woke and they were gone. We had paid them to help us escape from his father,” continued Jerrak with as heavy a voice as possible. He was still uncomfortable with the whole idea. “I have a very good reason to believe that they took the money and went in search of my lover’s father in order to turn us in for a greater reward. We can’t risk staying in the city any longer.” The man gave him a skeptical look. For a minute, Jerrak thought that the old man had heard the emphasis he had put on the word lover. However, Telarai continued with the story.

“He has chased us all the way from Luxin sir. If those men tell him where we are then he will have found us now. If catches us, he will not only throw me into a permanent house arrest, he will murder my lover,” at this, Telarai squeezed Jerrak, who winced under his cowl. “Please don’t let him catch us…” At this, Telarai turned away and began to shake, much as if he were sobbing. Jerrak turned around and pretended to say soothing words.

“What are you doing?” He whispered his question in a hiss.

“Trying to win the guard over you idiot!” Telarai hissed back his response as he tried to appear as if he were crying.

The gatekeeper stared at the two for a moment and then slowly nodded. “Well, I’ll let you on through. Seeing as it’s none of my business and all, but you should be more careful with your moneys and who you trust in the first place.” With that, he shuffled off to the gate and swung it open. “Be careful. Leaving at night is always dangerous, and best of luck to ye. I hope you can get away from your father.”

“Thank you,” was all Telarai could say as the man let them leave by the gate.

Oracle Chapter 3

2003-08-06T15:53:10Z

III: Luc

RIGHT after they had left, Luc waited at the table with the money and as the wench came by again, he motioned to the money on the table. “They’re for you. I just stayed to make sure you got them.” The wench smiled as she picked them off the table. Luc fished into one of his sleeves and pulled out a crown. “This is so that we were never here…” The girl’s eyes widened at the gold piece and then she nodded real solemnly and said, “Who the hell are you anyway? I’ve never heard of anyone by your description before in my life!”

Luc nodded and then placed another one on the table with the one he held. “Good girl,” he replied. The girl smiled again and scooped the two coins on the table.

“The name is Anyankis, Ana for short. I’ll be here if you need anything. You can go to Landris’; I’m his cousin. Mention my name and he’ll set you up. He owns the local Chandlery.” The hood turned in her direction.

“How did you know that I was intending to leave?”

The girl remained smiling and then said, “I can see that you just have that look about you. Plus, the two crowns all themselves are a big enough hint. Any who treat me nice also gets treated nice.” She then put a hand on the table and spoke in a low tone. “The guards have been getting a little edgy lately too. If you need horses, then I suggest that you go to Ildia’s. She has the best ones.”

“You’re just a bundle of help today aren’t you?”

“I know. Also, say hello to your big friend for me.” With that, Anyankis quickly explained where the chandlery was, winked and smiled, and left off to go serve another table. Luc smiled to himself under his cowl and then spoke in a soft tone to himself. “There it goes again…” He stood up and then began to leave just as someone walked into the tavern. They were dressed in the local guard’s blues and had the sigil of the sun across their chest. A broad sword was laced to his belt. He waked in and Luc sat right back down again. Thank god he was sitting close to the door. As the man walked in, he didn’t bother to shut the door.

As cold air seeped into the tavern, the man looked around and then stepped into the tavern. Luc slowly edged around his table to reach the door. The man, who had stepped into the middle of the room narrowed his eyes and then spoke.

“I’m looking for someone. He’s got shock white hair. He is wanted for treasonous acts.” Luc cursed under his breath. The entire tavern looked at the man silently. Luc saw Anyankis motioning with her eyes to the door. He saw the look on her face and then realized that she was telling him to go. He nodded his thanks and then swept out the door behind the man’s back. The last thing that he heard was the man’s voice:

“There is a reward for his capture if he is alive…”

Luc cursed again as he hurried down the street. It was terribly cold, and so he wrapped himself up tighter in his cloak. If he wasn’t careful, he might freeze. He did like it when it was cold, just not this cold. However, he had better things to do than to worry about the temperature. Like the girl said, he had to go out of the city and he did have to go to those places that she had mentioned. He hoped that they wouldn’t ask too many questions.

As he wandered down the street, he passed many other taverns in which there were also blue dressed guards. “I don’t know what it is you have gotten yourself into Jerrak,” he muttered to himself, “but it better have been worth it.” As he continued to walk down the street, the wind blew straight at him, threatening to blow off his cowl. He quickly grabbed the top of it and pulled it down as if to secure it. As he did so, he was apt enough to see the three guards that were walking down the street. He quickly turned down the first alleyway that he saw, his cloak swishing after him. He thanked the Gods that his cloak was dark enough to blend into the shadows of the night.

He stood there waiting to see if they had seen him, thinking that he might be Jerrak, but thankfully, no cry was given up. He waited holding his breath until the guards passed by. As soon as they did, he let go of the breath he was holding in a ragged cough. ‘Too much cold air,’ he thought glumly. As he peeked out of the alleyway, he looked around for signs of the city guards. There were none to be seen in sight, so he quickly hurried on towards the Merchant Street.

As soon as he got there, he was forced to hide again. Another set of guards was looking around the front end and another set was looking around the back end. As Luc cursed his luck, he wished that things would go smoother for him. As one set of guards passed his alleyway hiding spot, he mashed himself against the wall so as not to be seen, and stepped in something icy and slimy. He suppressed a shudder and an instant groan of unhappiness and as soon as the guards had passed, looked out of the alleyway to the other side.

Holding his cowl so that it covered his face, he looked for the other two guards. Not seeing them, he quickly looked for the sign of the chandlery Anyankis had mentioned to him. He suddenly saw the sign of a barrel and a pair of boots. Below it, painted in dull red letters was the name ‘Landris’.

He smiled at his luck and then ducked back into the darkness as the two guards that had passed him earlier came walking back up the street. After a moment, they passed and continued to walk up the street.

Thankfully, Landris’ was only a few doors ahead. He watched around the corner as the guards walked past it and then slowly crept up the street behind them. As he tiptoed behind them, he was forced to hide behind a barrel because one of them turned around to pick up a set of dice he had dropped. He thanked the Gods that the barrel had been there in the first place, yet he cursed the guard for his clumsiness.

As he walked up to the chandlery, the guards continued to walk forward. As he lifted a hand to the doorknob, the guards stopped.

“Did you hear something?”

“No. I didn’t hear anything.”

“What do you suppose it’s a rat?”

“I don’t think that it’s anything and I think that it’s your imagination running away with you…”

Luc nodded in agreement with the guard. ‘That’s right, it’s not a rat, it’s a person you ninny!’ He tried to turn the doorknob and found that it wouldn’t budge. Hissing in frustration, he tried to shake it a bit.

“Hey, wait, I heard it too… I don’t think it’s a rat though.” Both of the guards had stopped a ways up the street. Luc growled in frustration. ‘Give that man a prize,’ he thought sarcastically. He suddenly began to panic. He was about to lift a hand to bang on the door, when the knob turned in his hand and the door swung open without a hitch. He fell forwards into the arms of a middle-aged man, who promptly dragged him inside the shop and closed the door behind him, all without so much as a single sound.

At the moment that the door snapped shut, the guards turned around. The first guard, who had not heard anything at all at first, smacked the other one in the back of the head. “See? Not even a rat!” The second one rubbed his head and then spoke a curse. “You never know!” It was all he managed to sputter before the other guard smacked him on the head again.

As Luc and the man, who were now inside the store listened, they heard another man’s voice.

“We think we have a live one! Come on! She’s back at the station.”

They heard the rustle of feet and then both were off. Luc let out an exasperated sigh. He turned around to face the man in the darkness of the shop. The man had a mess of black hair and had deep brown eyes. He smiled in the darkness.

“I’m Landris. My cousin sent word to me that a man would be coming. I suppose that you are that man?” Luc didn’t even bother to ask how the message had gotten there before him. He just simply nodded and Landris grabbed him by the arm. He dragged him to the back of the shop where he pushed aside a curtain and stepped into a room, which was lit by a candle.

“It’s a good thing I got the message and saw you in my window.” Luc smiled to himself, finally able to realize how Landris knew that he was at the door of the shop. Landris continued on as if nothing had happened. “Those guards were here earlier on tonight too. I don’t suppose that you are the white haired person they are looking for are you?” Landris was straight to the point; he didn’t call for tact in anyway shape or form. It also seemed as if he didn’t care.

“No, I am not the white haired person they are looking for, but none the less I am with that person. We are trying to get out of the city…”

Landris put up a hand. “Say no more master…” He trailed off so that Luc would provide for a name.

“Lukkis, simple isn’t it?”

Landris smiled and then said, “Well then, Lukkis it is I guess then.” Luc had a feeling that Landris knew that Lukkis wasn’t his real name, but the man didn’t press him. He seemed just fine to know that he had a name in the first place. “Well, come on back. Don’t just stand on the other side of the curtain.” Landris pushed aside the rest of the curtain and then directed Luc to come back into the room with him.

They entered a small room where a table had been laid with provisions. The walls were simple and so was the table. A doorway at the other side of the room also held a curtain and it was from there that Luc was surprised by a woman entering the room with a large wedge of yellow cheese in her hands.

“Don’t worry about her,” Landris spoke as she entered. “She’s my wife; Helen She was the one who intercepted Anyankis’ message. She won’t bother us any more for the rest of the night, but I would prefer for her to stay in case I need to get you anything.” Landris rubbed his hands looking over the stuff on the table. Helen looked at Luc with peering eyes, trying to see into his hood. He smiled even though he knew that she would not be able to see it.

Landris looked at Luc. “These will most likely be all that you need. Now, you have three people with you?”

“That would be correct. But you had better pack for one more, just in case.” Landris nodded and said, “Wise man, never know what you might get into. You have horses I presume?”

“Not yet, your cousin Anyankis told me to try Ildis, she said that she was good.”

Landris gave a hearty chuckle and Helen smiled broadly. “Ildis eh? Well, I can see why she is the best. Not only is she the only stable master who is open all the time, but she is also another one of our cousins.”

Luc was surprised. “Is everybody in this town related then?”

Helen shook her head. “Not everybody, just most of them.” Her voice was pleasant. Not the sensual grating that marked Anyankis own voice. “Most of us set up in this town because there was nowhere else. You’ll find a lot of us are related, though, if we aren’t related, we’re most likely good friends.” Helen shot him another smile. “You’re in the mountain towns hon. If life wasn’t like this, the towns would most likely fall apart!” Luc made an appreciative nod.

Landris chuckled and then pointed to the table. “We’ll need more supplies as if another person is traveling with them my dear.” Helen nodded and then was trough the curtain once more. As she left, Landris turned to Luc.

“Back to the business at hand; I have for you plenty of travel rations, yellow and white cheese; the white you’ll want to eat a little faster as it doesn’t keep for very long. There are some bags of travel biscuits as well as a few loaves of brown bread my wife bakes specially to sell in this store. She’s famous for it. Good on the road and for breakfast.” Landris smiled at Luc and gave him a wink.

“There’s also some butter to go with it, careful with it though. I have placed some water skins in the bag and a few extra empty ones as well. There’s exactly three cloaks in there in case it suddenly gets really rainy. However, it will also help you in the snow. I suppose that you are headed down through the Pass that is to the south?”

“Do you mean the Arrow Pass?”

“None other than that one.”

“I wasn’t quite sure. We might travel a little to the east towards Luxin and take Bottleneck Pass. I’m not quite sure…”

Landris pulled up another hand as if to say that he no longer wished to press. “Don’t worry Master Lukkis, I will take care of you. Just in case, I have placed two more pairs of boots in the supplies. There are also some bags of grain to help you. I assume that you will be taking about, say… four to five horses?”

“That is about right.”

“Well, we’ve put some sacks of grain for feed as well. There isn’t too much grazing grass in Bottleneck, but you should be able to get though without too much trouble which ever way you plan to go.”

“Thank you Master Landris. How much will I owe you?”

Landris gave Luc a price and then settled to haggle over it for a few minutes. They struck up upon a bargain about the same time Helen came back with another cloak and some more rations. She had also brought backpacks to place all the supplies in. Landris then went behind the curtain and came back a few moments later with a tall black staff.

As to what it was made out of, one could not tell, but it had a sheen to it that seemed uncanny for mere polished wood. The top and bottom of the staff had been fitted with metal tops; although as to what the metal was Luc did not know. It gleamed in the lamplight of the candles and then Landris passed it to Luc.

“Sir this staff never did belong to us. We just found it one day upon our doorstep, back when my father owned this shop. He always held onto it for someone to come and claim. No one ever did, so we kept it. Sir, I think that the staff should go with you. I don’t know why, I just believe that it would be better off with you.”

Luc nodded, although mystified as to what the staff could possibly be for, and took it from Landris’ hands. He then paid Landris in full and then began to pick up one of the backpacks. Helen’s hand came over his white ones and she shook her head. “Don’t you worry about it Master Lukkis, we will have it sent over to Ildis’ stables immediately. We know that you came here without a horse, so you need not worry at all about carrying it there.”

Luc nodded and then spoke. “Thank you Mistress Helen...”

“Oh, just Helen to you Master Lukkis, no need to honor me.”

“… Just Helen then, thanks to you. And you too Mas…” Landris held up a finger as if to warn Luc and he smiled under his hood. “… Landris; thank you too.” Landris smiled and nodded his approval.

“I better be going to Ildis’ now; if you could just direct me in her direction?”

The couple nodded and then gave Luc instructions. They opened the back door so that he could leave unmolested by the guards, just in case they were still out on the main street. He bid the couple farewell and then sneaked off down the back alleyway. As he looked out into the main street from the way, he realized that he had been hiding here before he tried to get up the street. He cursed his bad luck again and when he saw that there was no one else on the street, he moved on.

* * * * *

Ildis’ Stable was actually rather large, and on top of that, was only a little down the ways from the guard station. Was everything going to turn out bad tonight? He hoped to the Gods that it wouldn’t. As he turned the corner, he saw that there was not a single guard at the post. ‘Maybe I am going to be lucky tonight,’ he thought. As he moved into the stable, he heard the familiar nickering and whuffing of the horses.

He walked down one of the ways inside when he encountered a youth. He had to be no more than six. He had a mop of brown unkempt hair, which had straw all over it. He looked up into the cowl as if to see a face and then quickly moved back to what it was that he had been doing. Luc smiled at the boy, who couldn’t see it and then said, “Do you know where I can find Mistress Ildis?”

The boy looked up at him from cleaning the stall and looked at him long and hard. Another boy suddenly came from the other side. “Hevral, have you finished cleaning…” He stopped short, brown eyes narrowing. “Who are you?” His voice was that of trying to be gruff, but he was only a few years older than the other boy. The only thing that gave it away was that his voice still had yet to crack.

“My name is Lukkis…” The boy’s features softened almost instantly. “Oh, you must be the man that was to visit Uncle Landris and Aunt Helen’s shop. Don’t worry; mother will be around in a while. Tym and Rych both went out to get your stuff. We just got the message.” The boy talked nonchalantly about it as if nothing was really going on. Then again, if your stable was outside the guard station, then you had most likely seen it all. Again, Luc smiled at the helpfulness of Anyankis and her relatives.

“That’s nice. Could you help find some horses then while we wait for your mother?” The boy nodded and they both set off down the stalls. As they reached one with a gray mare in it he pointed to her. “This is Poppy. She’s one of our best. She don’t mind too much, you just gotta make sure that you don’t feed her too much, she’ll they to gorge herself. The poor little thing, one would think that we don’t feed her enough, yet she gets more than all the other horses in the stables here!”

The boy shook his head. “She’s a good mount though, she won’t bolt or nothin’. Either she’s too dumb to, or she’s too stubborn to. I dunno which. Personally I think she’s too stubborn to. She’s just that kind a horse. She usually isn’t though.”

The boy then moved on to another horse named Lochten. He was a gray as well, but he came from stock that was bread by Illen’faie. He was a good mountain horse if nothing else. He would listen so long as the rider didn’t try to use reins on him. He also followed if told to. Luc thought that he would make a good packhorse.

They went through several more horses, some without names, others named because of what they did, like Patch, whose coat and mane were so patch worked, they had no clue what kind of horse he was. The boy however, loved him dearly and was in the process of feeding him a lump of sugar when a woman walked into the stables.

She was tall and had dark hair herself, although what color it was, brown or black, one could not tell because of the darkness. The lamps that were hung inside did not do much to illuminate the color so much as it did the shine. She had dark eyes, which looked him over rather fast just to sum him up. Her skin was actually darker than he had expected; a light earth brown. She wore a loose-fitted blouse and a pair of pants that were obviously belonging to a man.

She stepped right up to Luc and said, “I won’t do business with someone whose face I can’t see…” Luc shook his head. “Well then, I’m sure that I can go and find business somewhere else.” The woman shook her head and looked at Luc with a hard gaze.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Luc shrugged.

“However, because I have received word from my cousin Anyankis; and the horses seem to take more than a liking to you; I will do business for you.” She was crisp, if not concise and that amused Luc. “I understand that you need four horses?” She asked him the question expecting a straightforward answer Luc sensed so he spoke a simple yes and she nodded. “So then, I’ll pack up a horse with your gear… Tym! Rych!” Her voice rang out and Luc looked out the door, afraid that the city guard would descend upon him in a moment. What descended however was much different than what they expected.

Two boys with dark reddish-brown hair stumbled into the barn. As son as they did, Luc knew that the two boys were twins. They were about seventeen years, but Luc was sure that they could have been older, for what they looked about twenty. He nodded to them from underneath his cowl, which made them nervous, but after a minute they seemed to relax.

“Thank you for your help. I will be sure to tell others…” he was cut off when she pointed to the black staff in his hand. “They gave it to you? That’s good; we couldn’t get rid of the cursed thing fast enough.” Luc turned to the staff, which simply glimmered in the light. “What do you mean?” She shrugged. “It gives me bad vibes.”

Luc shrugged. It didn’t seem to leave him with any bad impressions. Ildis began to give orders to the boys. She turned back to Luc when everything was done. “Now about the price of the horses Master Lukkis…” Luc smiled under his hood. A woman who knew what it was she was after; he chuckled to himself.

Oracle Chapter 2

2003-07-31T02:20:00Z

II: Catterinia’s

I think that it is safe to say that we are lost in the last place on earth people can be lost in” Jerrak threw his hands up into the air and rolled his gray eyes. “If you just let me help you…”

Lyzanor shot him a look. “I’d like to think that I know my way around a Red Lantern Lane…”

“I think that you’re too drunk on that damn ‘faie wine to know what the hell is going on.”

Lyzanor stopped and then spoke out. “I resent that!”

A woman dressed in a red skimpy dress walked right up to Lyzanor and put her hands around his arm. “Hey there hunny; can I help you relieve your stress?”

Jerrak threw himself towards her and grabbed her roughly by the wrist and jerked her off of Lyzanor’s arm.

“He’s not for you my dear… we just need some information.”

The woman sneered and rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong sweet-cheeks? Did I move into your territory?” Jerrak opened his mouth and then blushed violently. He looked to the ground and then muttered something under his breath.

“What’s that sweetie? Did I say something’ wrong… or was it right?”

“Come on,” he yelled suddenly. The woman didn’t look startled at all. She just smiled. “What’s wrong boy; am I getting a rise out of you? Why don’t you follow me and I’ll get you out of that cloak and show you…” He looked at her for a moment and her eyes widened as she gazed into the cowl.

“You… You…” she began to stammer. He looked away from her suddenly and then spoke in a low voice. “Just tell us where the Green Lane is.” She snapped her mouth shut and then just pointed in the direction of a street.

They both nodded and Lyzanor turned to look at Jerrak. “I think that she knows about your secret.” Underneath the cowl, Jerrak just scowled and pointed towards the same direction.

“Just go.”

Lyzanor shrugged and began to walk. As they walked along, he spoke only once. “How can she stand to wear such a skimpy thing then it’s so damn cold?”

Lyzanor shrugged his shoulders again and that was the end of that conversation. Finally, the street began to change only slightly. The streets looked almost the same, and so did the ‘houses’. The only thing that seemed to change was that the lanterns that were red changed to green. Another thing that seemed to change was that there were not so many people inside of the streets any longer. Of course, Lyzanor seemed to notice nothing else, but Jerrak began to get a little nervous.

As they passed by the places that were on the street, they finally came to one towards the end, in which there was a rather bawdy statue of a man playing a flute and dressed in a rather skimpy silk cloth, which draped his body. There was no one outside at first, but the door flew right open and a swarthy blonde woman stepped out of the door. She was rather plump and her smile was large indeed.

The woman was dressed in a purple dress that hung across her shoulders rather limply and her bare arms both held cuffs that were simple bands of silver with a gleaming gem in each. The woman had her hair wrapped into a rather strange bun; it seemed to be eating in upon itself, turning in towards the back of her head. On her neck was also another piece of silver jewelry with another stone, which was purple as well. At a second look however, her hair actually appeared darker than the original blonde that the green light cast over her.

She spread her arms wide open and spoke in a rather highly happy voice.

“Welcome! Welcome to Catterinia’s! Come inside!”

Almost instantly, she grabbed them both by the arms and hustled them inside. The smell of jasmine and vanilla as well as another unknown, yet rather pleasantly invigorating scent could be smelled in the air. As they were hustled over the threshold, they were greeted by the decadence of a rather classy place. The main room was not gaudy at all, or filled with columns and ugly statuary. Instead, it had simple walls that were the purest white. Silk covered the walls in all colors, but mostly purple. A single staircase led up towards an overlooking balcony, which also led down a different hall.

As they continued forward however, through an arch under the balcony, they entered another larger room in which there was another statue. This one however was in the center of a fountain. It was a young boy dressed in a form fittingly loose tunic with a single vase, out of which water was pouring out rather tranquilly into a small pond at his feet. It made a small chime that sounded almost like music.

“We are the only ones on Green Lane that can say that in our House, we have a singing fountain. It has tumblers on the inside, which the water goes through at intervals, which allows for the notes. It plays ‘Minoura’s Lament’. It’s beautiful.” The woman paused in front of the fountain with both men.

The courtyard was lit by lamps, mostly white light to reflect the silk, but there was the occasional green candle and the flickering light was almost a comfort in the small area. A single couch was set in between two pedestal-like tables, in which were small braziers where the smell of the strange incense could be smelled, wafting upon the gentle breeze from the open aired area. Above the couch was a canopy that was made in a twist on a gazebo fashion. However, it wasn’t as cold here as the outside for some reason.

The woman, whom both assumed was Catterinia, sighed contentedly for a moment. Then she turned quite suddenly and smiled warmly at both of the men. “So what is it that brings you here? Are you each looking for a companion for the night, or are you simply looking for one to share?” Jerrak twisted nervously where he was standing and the woman smiled. “Oh. So is this your first time young sir? Well, we do have some of the finest here… tell Catterinia what it is you desire and I can be sure to try and provide it for you…”

“Ah, so you’re Catterinia?” Lyzanor turned an inquisitive eye to the woman; waiting for a response. The woman smiled and placed both hands upon her breast, hands laced.

“Yes, that would be me, Catterinia Manses.” She moved her eyes to Jerrak after answering Lyzanor’s question. “You may take off your cowl sir, as we value our patron’s privacy here more than anywhere else.” Nor coughed nervously and then took a step forward in front of Jerrak, shielding him halfway from Catterinia’s gaze.

“I don’t think that would be wise my lady…”

“Oh nothing bothers me,” she replied. “Why, I am one of the few people in the city who offers up Light-touched…” Jerrak took a sharp breath. Catterinia smiled almost knowingly. “However, if being slightly secretive turns you on in this case, then I would only ask that I see your face for the safety of my workers…” She grabbed both of her wrists and held them in front of her, directly under her rather large supple breasts.

Jerrak twisted for a moment as if to make a move to leave the room and go back outside and then turned back to face Catterinia. Slowly, he removed the hood of his cloak and his white hair cascaded out and down his shoulders and to the center of his back. His hair was tinged with slight silver in the lamplight of the room. Catterinia smiled and put her hands on her hips.

“Now was that so hard? I cater to people like you all the time. As long as you pay, I have no problems.” She smiled once more and then spoke again in her normal cheerful tone, ignoring Jerrak’s white hair.

“Now what can I provide you two fine young gentlemen?” Jerrak remained silent as Lyzanor rolled his eyes. “We came here in hopes of seeing Melody.” Catterinia raised her eyebrows and cocked her head towards one side. “Ah… so you want our finest then…” She smiled her innocuous smile again and then motioned to the couch that was there beneath the canopy. “Sit and I will be right back.”

They both sat as she walked out of the room. Four small beautifully carved caryatids held up the small gazebo. They were all most likely saints of Virtues; although, statues of the virtues would be rare inside of such an establishment as well as of saints. Nor grinned lewdly and then said, “I hope Melody has a beautiful rack. Then I won’t feel so bad for being here.”

Jerrak shook his head and then spoke softly to himself something that Lyzanor did not quite catch. He then turned his down-turned head towards Nor. “Lyzanor right? Isn’t he one of the saints of the Church?”

“The Saint of Mountain Hunters; he was supposed to be an impressing figure. I hope that I take after his qualities.”

“Doesn’t the Church look down upon acts such as this?” Jerrak looked around the courtyard and spread his hands as if to encompass the whole place.

Lyzanor shook his head, a wistful smile upon his face.

“No, only the Malctun zealots believe that. Although they are a part of the church, it doesn’t mean that I have to like them. I follow Nadiria. She does not mind a little getting to know of other people in a more than just friendly way.”

“Well, you’re in for a surprise…”

“What? You’ve met Melody before? So… is she good-looking?”

“I’ve never met Melody… but I’ve heard stories…”

They sat in silence for a few moments and then Catterinia came back. “I present to you… Melody.” She made a dramatic flourish and suddenly, a man walked forward into the small courtyard. Lyzanor gasped and Jerrak seemed indifferent.

Lithe of curve and white almost as the newly fallen snow, the boy stepped into the courtyard wearing a flimsy tunic of sheer silk that was wrapped in the traditional style of the Grelcians; a short skirt like which wrapped around his waist which also supplied a length of cloth that wrapped over one of his shoulders and left the other one bare. He was indeed not small at all, but had his muscles finely oiled so that he would appear to glitter in the light that was produced by the lamps. His slim waist was hinted at by the cloth that he was wearing. His legs were powerfully muscled in their own right, as if he had at one time been a runner.

His appendages, however slender, gave off an air of strength though. His jaw line was rounded and only slightly squared as it made a small jut from the rest of his face. The jut would have been hard place to spot and notice however, unless someone was actually searching for it. His eyes were a swimming green, which matched a blonde hair that was slightly long and tied back behind his head. However, there were just enough stray wisps that accentuated his normally curved ears and deep-set brow.

In his hand he carried a small tray with two finely crafted crystal bowls and a crystal oinochoe. The bowls were wide and had gold filigree around the top edges that had been made to look like a complex knot work known to be practiced mostly in the mountains around Septi and Luxin. The boy slowly kneeled and placed the tray upon the small table that was to Lyzanor’s left side and then proceeded to sit upon a faldstool that had been cleverly hidden in the flora that surrounded the courtyard. He silently poured what appeared to be ‘faie wine into the two bowls and then offered it up to the guests. They both took the bowls; Jerrak with a pleasantly crafted smile and Lyzanor with a little apprehension.

As the boy settled back down again, this time in front of both of them on his knees, Jerrak slowly sipped the wine. Lyzanor looked at the boy, who looked back with an anticipatory glance at both Jerrak and Lyzanor. It was immediately replaced by a small look of curiosity, which made no furrow in his brows. His eyebrows lifted up only slightly, not disturbing the rest of his face as his lips twitched rather quickly and quite suddenly. Hs face then became an impassive mask, which Lyzanor found slightly unsettling.

Lyzanor turned to face Catterinia who smiled one again innocuously. “I hope everything is to your liking so far…” Lyzanor shook his head and then proceeded to look around. He turned to the pump woman and then asked, “Where is Melody?” Catterinia looked at Lyzanor with a strange look and then tilted her head to an angle. Nor growled and then spoke up once again. “We were told that she would be here. Where is Melody?” At this, Catterinia laughed out loud.

Jerrak slowly took another sip of his wine as the youth looked in a different direction with a slight redness in his cheeks. As Lyzanor continued to look at Caterinia with a look of confusion, Jerrak placed his wine at the other table and then pointed to the youth who was kneeled before them.

“That, my dear friend, is Melody.”

Lyzanor’s eyes widened for a moment and then realization seemed to seep through to him. “Oh Goddess! This isn’t what I thought that it would be!” At this, Catterinia laughed even harder. He turned to Jerrak and looked at him with an accusatory glance. “You knew about this didn’t you? You knew!” Jerrak put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders. “We were on a green lantern street. I thought that you knew…”

“I most certainly did not know!” The tone in Lyzanor’s voice was becoming panicked. “I don’t need to worry… there is most likely some explanation. He can’t be a ‘Melody’ can he?” He turned his pleading eyes to Jerrak. Jerrak turned to Catterinia who was wiping tears from her eyes and still chucking. She spoke to the boy:

“You better tell them both…”

The boy merely smiled and then bowed his head to his two guests. His hands had never left his lap where he had placed them when he had sat down a second time. “My name is indeed Melody, but my true name is Telarai. It is Sulinin for ‘Melody’. You see, I am a Sulinis’faie.”

At this, he lifted his head up to the two men and smiled rather winningly. Jerrak shifted his face away rather diffidently, and Lyzanor’s mouth dropped open even further.

“He’s a ‘faie!” The boy turned green eyes towards the surprised Nadirian and nodded once. Nor smacked his head and then sighed out loud. “Just my luck,” he began to mutter. “I guess that explains why he can wear something so skimpy in such cold weather…” Catterinia smiled once again; something that was beginning to annoy Jerrak, and then said, “I will leave you three to… whatever it is that you came for.” With that, she began to laugh again as she left saying out loud, “He didn’t know! He didn’t know!”

Lyzanor grimaced. “Not what I expected at all…”

Jerrak shook his head and then spoke in a low voice. “Telarai, we are both Strangers far from Home.” He still refused to look directly at the boy that sat in front of them. The boy looked up at Jerrak for a moment and then nodded. He brought both of his wrists together and then spoke rather softly:

“Follow and I shall lead. Lead and I shall follow. By the names of the gods that are uttered in the night; I pledge to help you.” He placed his left palm up and showed them a small sign upon his palm. Here, a crescent moon tattooed into his palm.

“I’m Jerrak and he is Lyzanor. We shall follow.”

Melody nodded for a second as if to confirm and was reassured when Jerrak showed him his own palm. The boy stood up for a moment and then beckoned them to follow him. “You had better hurry; follow me.”

As they exited the small garden, they passed Catterinia. The boy stopped for only a moment and then spoke to her, “Please, cover for me, we are going to use the far back room.” The woman nodded in agreement and then said, “Take as long as you like. I’ll keep watch.” With that, she bustled off into the main reception area. Telarai motioned for them to follow once again and then led them up a back flight of stairs. This took them to a second floor where he led them down a corridor of grand proportions.

There were moans of pleasure, mostly male, and some of the doors were open. However, they didn’t stop until they came to the very last door on the hall. As Telarai moved his hand to open the door, he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I trust then that you ran into Master Luc if you knew about this. Is it rather urgent? Is he well?” Jerrak nodded and spoke answers to both of the boy’s questions, which seemed to put him at ease. “Master Luc has been so kind to us all…”

With that said, he opened the door and stepped inside. The inside of the room was rather luxurious, but both looked around in awe of what the room was decorated with. The walls, which were painted a pale, very pale, shade of green flickered in the candle light that was provided by the many candelabras and wall scones. They illuminated a four-poster bed and a small table, complete with a couch on the side. There were three chairs and a small dresser, upon which sat another bottle of the famous ‘faie wine and three small delicate crystalline drinking bowls.

The inside of the bed rustled from behind green and crème colored silks. A face popped out from behind “Masöa iriaalea sié’ol Telarai?” (Is that you Telarai?) It was just as slim as Harmony’s and yet it had a brilliance of blues eyes and long pale hair, which had been left loose and free flowing. There was the same rounded jaw, yet powerful as well, but a little softer on the cheek bones. The skin was also much like a pale white, only in the cheeks; there was a slight rosy touch.

The face stopped and then turned towards the other two who were standing in the room. “Öre’s misiô shiö’an elurí averiéras?” (Are these people safe brother?) The face slid off the bed to reveal a full body. Almost as thin and supple and slim as Telarai was. The person hung off the bedpost, dressed only in a long white, and sheer tunic.

“Auraia elú irasias, tella mia, isiü ‘gere’aui eris’t víorês’ ïnak’.”
(Auraia don’t worry, my dear, they’re ‘strangers far from home’.)

Telarai nodded slightly and then motioned to the others. The person in the tunic bowed and then spoke to both Lyzanor and Jerrak. “Miâlora.” (Welcome.) Lacing hands together, the androgynous figure stood up. Telarai then spoke to Lyzanor and Jerrak. “This is my younger brother Auraia. Please, do sit down while I talk to him a moment.” At this, he motioned to the couch that was on the other side of the room.

Jerrak nodded and Lyzanor seemed to become more frustrated than ever. “I thought he was a girl!” He whispered as they both sat on the couch across from the bed. Jerrak shook his head and then sighed.

“Don’t you even remember where we are? This is a green lantern house. All the people in here are most assuredly men.” Jerrak huffed and then wouldn’t say anything more. As the two brothers conversed in low tones, Lyzanor glowered. After a moment, Telarai turned over to look at the two people who were sitting on his couch. He slowly walked over to the dresser and then spoke. “Would you like some ‘faie wine? It will help pass the time.” Jerrak shook his head rather vigorously and Lyzanor nodded his consent. The face of Auraia peered out from behind the silk covering the bed as Telarai poured a bowl of the wine.

As he passed it to Lyzanor, he nodded a gruff thanks and then proceeded to drain half of the bowl. Telarai waited for him to finished and then looked to his brother. The boy behind the silk nodded his head.

“Did Master Luc say anything else other than what to tell us?” Lyzanor lifted an eyebrow as Jerrak looked thoughtful for a minute. Jerrak shook his head. “No, nothing else. He just said that you would help us.”

The voice came from the bed, a soft and melodious voice. “It’s not everyday that you meet a ‘stranger far from home…’” Lyzanor continued to drink his wine, ignoring the voice all together. Jerrak shifted his gaze to the covered bed, curious.

“What brought you here to Catterinia’s? It’s not unusual to find half-breeds like myself, but you’re cesilliöa, a pure elf.” Telarai smiled at Jerrak’s question.

“I have often thought of that myself… I don’t know why I am here sometimes. Other times, I am all to sure I know why.” He turned his gaze to Jerrak and then looked at Lyzanor. He had just finished the ‘faie wine and noticed Telarai’s gaze on him.

“How old would you say I am Lyzanor?”

Lyzanor shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know. Don’t you have longer life-spans than the rest of us?”

Telarai nodded. “Indeed we do, for I am indeed very old. I used to work for Catterinia’s grandmother.”

Lyzanor’s mouth dropped at this.

“My brother was here as well, and yet we both still appear as young as we do. My brother is younger than me by about thirty years. Is this a surprise to all of you?”

Lyzanor shook his head up and down in sheer dumb amazement. Jerrak shook his head no. “Why should I be surprised at all?”

Telarai smiled vaguely.

“When we first came here, we had come due to extenuating circumstances. We did not want to come here, but it seemed the most appropriate place. When we got here, we were young; by our standards, we are still very young. We have quite a bit more time left… however; there is still the fact that we knew nobody. As we knew of this city, only because of what it was, being so close out of the mountains, that was all we knew. Well, when we got into the city, we had never seen such ever before.

“The moment we stepped inside the city, we were overwhelmed by everything, including the entry gate. It was after all, rather grand. We were used to not having any boundaries. After all, what was the need for walls if no one could find you in the first place? After only a little time here in the entire place, we lost our purse. We had been pick-pocketed.

“After some time, we found our way to this street. Here, Catterinia’s predecessor, Stazia, took us in. She didn’t require anything from us at first. She said that it wasn’t our faults…” At this, Telarai stopped for a moment and bit back his words. He wiped a corner of his eyes and Auraia came over and held his hand. Together, they were a striking pair. Now that Lyzanor knew that they were both male, he saw nothing but a strange sort of blandness in the beauty that they possessed. However, they did look a lot like each other.

Jerrak saw however, the beauty in both of them which Lyzanor could not see. The curves of each, the stillness; everything like a still life portrait. Jerrak shook his head, refusing to listen to his inner voice. He tried to listen again as Telarai continued.

“I don’t know how it started, but one day, Stazia came up to me and asked me if I would work for her. At the time that she was keeping us both inside the house, I was keeping it up so that we were not just acting like parasites on her hospitality. She and all the boys inside the house insisted that I needn’t do it, but I felt like I had to do something to repay their hospitality. So, I help around; I kept the place looking nice and helped the boys get whatever they needed. I had become like the houses keeper.

“Stazia of course did not mind. However, some of the more frequent visitors had seen me sometimes; I tried to keep out of sight a whole lot. It obviously didn’t work, because some of the regulars accused Stazia of holding back. She was worried for me you know. She didn’t know what to do, so she asked me to work for her in hopes that I would be able to stop her customer’s accusations…

“I’ve been working here ever since. Then one day, a stranger walked into the door. It was Master Luc. We didn’t know what he had come for, but when he saw me, he instantly asked me if I was a stranger far from home. I immediately said yes not knowing what it was that he had meant at the time. He had then shoved out both of his palms and showed me the crescent moons that were tattooed there. I wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted. I thought he had meant in reality.

“After that our life changed. Auraia and I talked to him for a while and then we too became a part of the network of Strangers. We help people and they help us. That is what it is here for. I doubt that anyone else could possibly know about it here in the city. I believe that we are the only Strangers here in the city.”

At this, Telaria paused for a moment as if to reflect. Turning to Jerrak, he spoke in a commanding tone of voice. “Why is it that you need our help?”

“We were being followed and we were hoping that you could help get us out of the city, and fast.” Auraia thrust out his right hand on which were tattooed the twin crescents. They had been tattooed in a silver color, the same as his own. However, his had been marred by a cut he had suffered on his hand.

“Do you know what this means?” Auraia continued to hold out his hand. “It means that we will always be here, no matter what and the other Stranger will always help us; but it is also an obligation.”

Telarai cut him off almost immediately. “Don’t speak of it as such tella mia (my dear), we are not supposed to look at it like that…” At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Auraia looked at the door and then turned to Telarai almost instantly with a look on his face. After a second knock, he bounded back to the bed and hid amongst the silk that streamed down from the canopy. Telarai went to the door and then opened it slightly.

A boy burst in. “Melody! Oh my god, this is so bad, you have to come and see this…” He turned for a moment and looked at the two men sitting on the couch. A look of pure panic crossed his face. “Oh Melody, Melody,” his voice was a moan. “They are still here! Oh God, that makes it even worse. Oh Goddess!”

The boy, who was obviously no more than seventeen summers, had brown hair that seemed down in front of his eyes like a thick carpet over his eyes. His darkened and tanned skin was a sudden contrast to Melody’s light skin. Telarai put out a hand and placed it on the boy’s shoulder. The boy was about the same height and Telarai out his other hand over the boy’s lips, pressing a single index finger to it.

“Shhh. Now tell me from the beginning what is going on.” The boy tried several starts until he finally just gave up. “You have to go see for yourself in the front hall, but for heaven’s sakes, don’t let yourself be seen!”

“You worry too much about me Sammel. I will be careful though, go back to your room and I will take care of this.” The boy, Sammel, nodded and then glumly began to leave, but before he left, he place a hand on Telarai’s cheek and spoke some soft words that he meant for no one else to hear. Telarai nodded and then spoke back in Sulinin. The boy nodded and then smiled. “I hope I will be able to live up to your expectations Telarai.” He spoke the name without an accent. This surprised Jerrak. Lyzanor however was a different story.

He had drunk too much ‘faie wine and now he was so drunk that his eyes were glazed over. He wasn’t very concerned or for that matter aware of his surroundings. Now, he was going through a pleasant buzz that kept him from reality at the moment. Jerrak poked him and nothing happened, which made him disgusted. Lyzanor couldn’t even feel if someone had touched him or not. That was the dangers of too much ‘faie wine though.

Telarai turned around and motioned for Jerrak to follow him. “My brother will take care of Nor. He’s a little bit too drunk, but I’ll need someone with me.” Jerrak nodded immediately and then cursed himself for doing so. Why did he have to go? He stood up from the couch and then moved with Telarai out the door. Sammel led them down the corridor and then paused for a moment in front of a landing.

“Stay low and listen here. I hope it all turns out alright.”

Telarai nodded and then shooed the boy off.

As Jerrak sat behind a tall plant on the landing, he could see several med dressed in regimentals of the city guard. They each had a broad sword strapped to their belts as well as the city’s golden sun emblazoned on their armor upon their chest. Catterinia was all smiles. It appeared as if she had just come in.

“Well what can I do for you folks?”

The guard in the front, a tall black haired man who had only a goatee shook his head vigorously. “Sorry Catterinia, we are here on business this time.”

“Well aren’t you always here on business, Captain Y’tell?” Catterinia’s inquiry was made from what appeared to be a truly curious look. The captain shook his head.

“Tonight is different ma’am. We are here to see Melody.” Telarai took in a deep intake of breath through clenched teeth as he was mentioned by name. Jerrak shook his head and made a motion for him to be quiet. “You don’t understand,” hissed Telarai. “It’s not you that they are after!” Jerrak shook it off and said, “Listen, will you!”

They both turned their attention to the door. Catterinia had put her hands on her hips and was giving them a mischievous look. “My, aren’t we goin’ high up tonight. And what would you want with my little Melody?”

“I’m sorry Catterinia ma’am, but he is to be arrested for treasonous acts against the crown of Nalmia.”

Catterinia blanched for a moment and then looked at the guards with serious eyes. “What do you mean ‘treasonous acts’?”

“He is to be questioned and sent to Maruch. I am sorry ma’am.”

“I don’t believe this… and to think that I let him go today!”

Jerrak took a sudden breath and turned to the boy next to him. Telarai simply closed his eyes, a semi-relieved look upon his face.

“What? What do you mean you let him go today?”

“I mean just that! I let his go on towards Luxin. He wanted a trip, and as you know, he has been working here ever so long, he’s never asked for a break ever and he has enough money to go anywhere by now and he just looked so happy when I told him that it was his right to go anywhere he wanted and oh…” Catterinia just continued on until Y’tell put a hand up.

“That is quite enough ma’am, thank you. Do you remember what time he left?”

Catterinia placed a hand on her hip and a thoughtful hand to her jaw, “I believe that he left sometime around the midday… yea, a little before midday. He wanted to get a start and reach a town… I can’t remember the name of it now, but I’m sure it will come to me.” She smiled at the guard for a moment and then nodded her head. “I just wish you had come earlier. I would have kept him behind… oh, it’s just too much.”

Catterinia lifted a hand to her face, as if to brush away tears. Jerrak looked to Telarai who had a smile upon his face as he was watching he spectacle. He nodded his head once as if to confirm what she was saying. Suddenly, Catterinia burst into muffled sobs. “He was our finest too!” The captain looked back to the other men who were with him, and a few of them shrugged. One or two of them looked uncomfortable. Y’tell put out a hand to try to comfort Catterinia and her sobbing became worse.

It was all Telarai could do to keep from laughing. “Let’s go back to the room. We have some things to do before we can leave.” Jerrak nodded in agreement.