#they started to get laid a couple of years before the battle of red mountain

[jollmaster]

once married, thrice divorced, still love each other

[itskatastrophe-x]

Far Off Places (CH 1)

Overview , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2

Word Count : 2,487

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Pain. That was the only thing you knew. The only thing you felt. Not just physically, but emotionally. Your kingdom had been doing so well. You had everything. It was all right there in the palm of your hands for years. All of that had been undone in a matter of minutes as lava poured from the sky and bombs went off under the surface. After fighting for so long, your advisors told you to run. Start fresh in a new place. Find new friends and live a normal life. What even was normal? You had lived in the spotlight for so long, ruling over the same people, the same faces, the same memories. This kingdom was all you knew, and now it was being burned to the ground. 

You kept running, tripping over your own feet and branches as you went, your breath catching in your throat every few seconds, making you feel like you were drowning on land. The smoke from the fires wafted through the trees, burning your lungs and stinging your eyes. Your cheeks were red and puffy from crying for the past couple hours, the bitter wind chilling them. You only stopped once going up a large hill about half a mile outside the city walls, and then again once you reached the top. You collapsed roughly to your knees at the base of a tree, hunching over and putting a hand against said tree to keep your balance. You spluttered and coughed violently from all the smoke you inhaled and doubled over in pain, scrunching your nose and closing your eyes tight. The distant sounds of fire crackling and wooden supports crashing to the ground echoed around you through the valley. You recomposed yourself and slowly brought yourself to stand, still leaning against the tree so you wouldn’t immediately fall over from the burning sensation in your legs. 

You stood there with your back facing the mess for what felt like hours, but was probably only a couple minutes. Part of you wanted to turn around. The other part wanted to keep running. So you stood there. The sounds making you sob harder, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not yet. This was your home. How were you supposed to just let this happen? How did this even happen in the first place. You couldn’t remember making any enemies, so who could have done it? A neighboring country? You highly doubted that. You were hundreds of miles away from anyone else, your kingdom was basically hidden away in a valley between mountains, making it extremely hard to get to. 

Time kept passing and the roar of thunder washed over you slowly, lightning flashing in the far off distance over the mountains. The setting sun finally dipped below the horizon and the fires blazing harshly behind you cast the scenery in a dim red glow. To say the scene before you was beautiful was a sin, and yet you enjoyed looking at all the colors laid out in front of you. You just wished that it wasn’t caused by your home being torn apart. You grieved all the lost, innocent lives that were taken. All the time and memories, now all ash and dust to be forgotten. For all you knew, you were the only one that survived the massacre, though you hoped that wasn’t the case. 

You finally brought yourself to a solid standing position and pushed off the tree, steeling yourself as you turned to face your city in paradise. The sight was horrific, and somehow the smell had gotten worse upon turning to face the blaze. Lava flowed from the city walls and scorched the surrounding bushes and trees, the buildings were undistinguishable, and the castle way off in the distance was missing chunks as it continued to burn. Rustling around you alerted you to animals evacuating their homes as well. You were glad they could at least make it out. The smoke rose into the sky and danced with the clouds, a beautifully terrifying kaleidoscope of red, orange, and grey. The wind was getting harder, sending spirals off the sides to dissipate in seconds. Thunder cracked again and finally the sky started to cry alongside you and your own tears. It started as a drizzle as you turned on your heels and lowered your head to check your bag. Two golden apples, a loaf of bread, a couple fish, a notebook with a quill and ink, and a torch at the bottom. You pulled the hood of your cape up over your head and tore off a piece of the loaf and started to nibble on it as you moved yourself forward into the night, leaving the ruins of your homeland behind you to fall to the ground and be lost to time. Where would you go? You had no other family, knew no other rulers, and didn’t know what laid beyond the mountains. 

Your trek through the thick foliage was slow and grueling. The wind had picked up, sending violent ice-spike-like raindrops to attack your face and arms, soaking through your torn and dirtied clothes. You were thankful it was the middle of summer and overall a warm night, but the wind mixed with the rain had chilled you to the bone, sending shivers to wrack your whole body every couple of minutes. You had a large diamond axe on your hip as well as a bow and a few arrows slung across your back. The only things that remained of your homeland. The light glow from the axe and bow from the enchantments being the only light in the dark jungle. 

You had been running for miles before you decided it was time to sit and rest and possibly try to get some sleep somewhere. Luckily you had the knowledge on how to survive in the wilderness despite being locked behind walls all your life, so you stopped to scout out a safe area to set up a small base. In the dark you made your way to a smaller tree and started chopping, tightening your grip on your axe so the rain wouldn’t make you lose your grip. It took roughly two hours to collect all the necessary materials to build a small tent-looking structure, but it was good enough to sleep on and safe enough from the hostile creatures that lurked. You fought off a couple zombies on your endeavor, but nothing too serious. You took off your torn up cape and laid it on the ground to sleep on and set your axe and bow next to where your head should rest, bringing your book, quill, ink, and torch out and setting up to write.

Journal Entry : New World 1

Today, my empire was lost. I don’t know where to go or what I’m even looking for, but I hope to find someone or something to help me along my way. It’s been raining for hours and the sun should be up soon, but I still haven’t slept, as I have been running all night. I’ve set up a small structure to keep me safe for the time being. I don’t know where I am and the surroundings all look the same to me. I don’t understand what went wrong. Hopefully someday I can go back and investigate when I feel like I’m safe from whatever or whoever set my kingdom ablaze. For now I should rest, but I doubt that will happen with all the thoughts and questions running through my head.

You set the supplies back into your bag and break off another piece of your bread. Soon enough you’ll have to go hunting for more food. You’d rather save the apples for when you truly need them and you still had two fish, but you had half the bread you started with and you had no idea where you were or how close the next village or kingdom was. You sighed and bit into the bread, cringing as it was slightly hardened from being in your open bag for so long. You prayed the fish would last until you needed it as you laid down and put out the torch. You listened to the rain coming to a light drizzle again and chuckled at the timing. Of course it would stop raining only when you were in a shelter to protect you from it. You closed your eyes and drifted into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep. It only lasted about four hours, but it was enough to get you through the day.

The sun glared down on your small shelter, heating you up and making you extremely uncomfortable. The sky had cleared up and it seemed to have just gotten past sunrise, as the sun was just coming over the tops of the mountains. You groaned as you sat up, the pain from running all night finally catching up to you as sweat dripped from your brow. You cursed the summer heat and wished that it was raining again, so that you might get a break from the sun. How did it manage to break through all of the surrounding trees and hit your little home so perfectly? It didn’t make any sense. Within a few minutes, you knew, it would be off the shack and onto the tree behind it, but for now the heat was unbearable. You packed up all your things, rung out your cape and shook it off, and exited the structure, ready to set off again. You looked around to try to get a sense of where you should go, and eyed up a path clearly made by travelling animals. You adjusted the bow and arrows on your back and went to the nearest tree to cut off a good sized branch to use as a walking stick to ease the pain in your legs. 

Hours pass by, and then days. You feel like you’re walking in circles at this point, but the only thing keeping you on your path is the rise and fall of the sun. The jungle had changed into a spruce forest and the weather had cooled down immensely. You had heard of this happening in different regions but had never experienced it for yourself, so the new terrain and chilly air came as a shock. Off in the distance you could see snow capped mountains and lights reflecting off of the white landscape in the dawn. You grabbed some pork from your bag and chomped down on it, stopping to get a good look at your surroundings and supplies. Two and a half days of walking, battles with mobs, hunting pigs for food, and sleeping on the dirt. All of that had finally lead to what looked like a small civilization in the distance. You sighed into your food, taking another bite as you peered into your bag at your book and quill. You decided to get both out and sat down against a tree, pork in your mouth as you set everything down.

Journal Entry : New World 2

Almost three whole days of walking. My kingdom is long behind me. Snow in the distance. The air has gone cold and dry as I get closer to this new, unfamiliar place. I’m worried that I won’t be welcome in this new place, but there’s nothing left to lose so I’ll keep pushing on. I don’t have much to offer aside from my skills and a couple golden apples. I just hope I won’t be attacked or turned away on sight. Maybe there’s no one there, but I doubt that. 

You set the book and quill back in your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder and pushing yourself up, mentally preparing for this last leg of your journey. You had no idea what awaited you, and part of you didn’t want to know, but you knew that talking to locals might be your best option at finding somewhere to stay or maybe a direction you could go to start over. All you knew is that your legs now moved faster in nervous anticipation, the thought of a fireplace and a nice warm bed carrying you faster and faster, almost tripping down the hill in front of you numerous times. 

Soon enough the woods gave way to the snowy expanse and you pulled your destroyed cape as close to you as you shivered. You got out your torch and lit it, keeping it close enough to you to keep you warm, but not close enough to burn or set anything on fire. You set off across the snow, cursing your torn up shoes that were very clearly not made for this kind of weather. You had lived, surrounded by jungles and hot, humid, sticky weather all your life. To say this was a shock was an understatement. Your clothes were not made for cold, and your body was not conditioned for it either. You cursed, wishing you had hunted down some wolves for fur before coming this far. You trip and fall in the foot of snow covering the ground, and you can see clouds in the distance with wisps falling from the undersides. It would snow again, and soon. 

You picked yourself back up and trudged farther and faster, the houses in view now. There was smoke coming from the chimneys and the lights were on. You made out a house poking out of the side of the mountain farther past them, black cats running around in the snow, kicking up snow in the process as they tackled each other. In a matter of minutes, you made it across the large field, your breath coming out in puffs, visible in the sunrise as it peeked over the trees. There were two houses side by side, a shack full of dogs next to the one closest to you, and farther to your right was a pen full of cows. The dogs went up in an uproar as you neared the houses. You mentally cursed yourself for getting so close, seeing as they had obviously alerted the people inside the buildings. The cats now standing nearby, watching you closely as you made your way slowly. 

The curtains in one of the houses shuffled and then a door was heard opening, a loud sound emitting from the hinges as it was thrown open and a man with wings came out in a hurry, blankets spilling over his arms. And that’s the moment exhaustion finally took over, black dots forming at the edges of your eyes before you finally fell into the lush snow, your torch falling from your hand, extinguishing upon impact. The man gasped and rushed himself faster to pick you up and wrap you in blankets before promptly lifting you and taking you into the house, setting you on the loveseat and alerting the other man in the house to help. 

[dancing-sword]

Catrina’s Story: Megumi

So I started this back last year when @bace-jeleren first showed off. I've been working on and off for forever and I finally was able to finish it.

Megumi and Sophi, but it took me months to even get halfway through this. I finally had the creative burst to get finish it and knocked out the last half last couple days.

“Found you,” Sophi said in a soft voice with a smile.

Megumi returned with a broad, toothy smile of her own before looking around, her feet already carrying her forward. The only sound around was the ever so slight breeze rustling the thick branches over head. Moonlight bathed the world in pale light and for a second Sophi believed they were on Innistrad, but a feeling deep down told her this was not home. There were little things off that her angelic senses could tell and she thanked any higher force that be that Megumi hadn’t stumbled back to her home.

The path they followed was winding and partially overgrown from disuse. It meandered along rocky outcroppings and around trees and oftentimes disappeared in the brush. There was the occasional broken down fence and the sparse ruins of some old outpost that would always pique Megumi’s curiosity and lead her to pepper Sophi with questions about this and that, although Sophi found much of them hard to answer since she was certain she had never been to this plane before. Eventually the treeline broke and opened up to a large clearing. The road they had followed ran off into the horizon over low rolling hills and disappearing into fog-covered mountains.

Megumi fell slightly and stumbled for a step as her feet hit the ground. She wasn’t sure if she was getting any better at this planeswalking business since she just appeared a few feet off the ground. The young soratami puffed out her cheeks in indignant embarrassment, knowing she could and should have easily just floated, but calmed quickly when she felt a hand on her head.

Just off the path standing in the brush bathed in moonlight, was a warrior woman. A beast twice the size of a horse laid slain at her feet, its crumpled body masked in the shadow of the tall grass. She withdrew her blade, long and grim and painted red from battle, from the corpse. As the breeze picked up, it carried the smell of battle towards the two and the scent of iron immediately sent a word through Megumi’s mind.

Blood.

She was no stranger to it. Her dad was a vampire after all and both of her parents dabbled in the macabre so the appearance of blood was not inherently concerning to her, but she was still just a child and the grisly spectacle before her sent a chill down her spine. She inched behind her angelic guarding, squeezing a bit tighter onto Sophi’s hand.

Sophi was hit a little bit harder than Megumi was at the scene. There was a lingering darkness behind the blood that she could detect where Megumi couldn’t and it brought old feelings bubbling up from within her. It was unmistakably demon blood before them and her years of fighting instinct as one of the Flight Goldnight were starting to bubble up, but so was something else. Feelings of hate and divine fury crawled up her throat as a lingering voice started to worm its way into her ears. For a second, her heart started to race as it began to dawn on her what was going to happen next until Megumi’s small hand gripped her own, grounding her. She swallowed the feelings back down, closed her eyes, and exhaled a sigh of relief as her heart finally started to settle.

When Sophi opened her eyes, she caught the woman looking back at them over her shoulder briefly before wiping the blood from her blade on the corpse. While not completely clean, the woman must have thought she was presentable enough as she turned and started to make her way towards the two. As she came closer, it became apparent how the woman won her bout, her unarmored arms and legs thick with muscle. Sophi guessed the woman might have been considered a towering person had she herself not been closer 7 feet tall. When the woman finally stopped a few feet from the pair she gave them a once over, her eyes squinting slightly at Sophi and her one brow raising at Megumi.

She licked her teeth in thought, her gaze both penetrating and unfeeling, before speaking. “It is unsafe out tonight. My camp is further down the road. You can rest there until you get your bearings.”

She spun around and started marching off, not waiting for a reply.

“I’m Megumi and this is Sophi! What’s your name?” Megumi exclaimed as she floated up to eye-level with the woman.

“My name is Catrina, little one,” Catrina replied, lacking the severity she had first appeared with much to Sophi’s surprise.

“Are you from here? Where are we anyway? You’re strong. Did you defeat the monster all on your own?”

“Yes, child, this is Freimrann. My home. And I did kill that creature. It had been terrorizing the countryside for some months now.”

Catrina entertained the curious Megumi with more details of her fight as the trio continued towards the campsite. Just off the road, following a beaten dirt path, it was nestled in the broken ruins of an old watch tower. Only three of the four walls still stood and much of the structure past the second floor had long since crumpled from decay.

“You can explore the tower if you would like, little one. Be careful though. It is sturdier than it seems, but can still be dangerous.”

“Don’t worry! I can flyyyyyyyyyyy!” Megumi yelled, gently floating up through a hole in the ceiling. She had to grab the ledge and pull herself, her tiny giggles fading as she disappeared from view.

Sophi on the other hand followed Catrina toward a makeshift fire pit, standing awkwardly to the side as her guide sat down on an old chair, relighting and stoking the fire.

“So, what is an Innistrad angel doing with a child Soratami? I can only assume you are not her mother.”

Sophi had to do a double take. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lie or do not, it does not matter to me. I am just curious to why you travel.”

Sophi paused as she took a seat of her own, unable to meet Catrina’s gaze for the moment nor could she see Catrina having an ulterior motive. “Megumi is lost. She cannot guide her planeswalking and travels to worlds at random. I am with her to make sure she is safe and that she returns to her parents.”

Catrina nodded. “Noble.”

With Catrina’s own curiosity satiated and Sophi not feeling terribly open with the stranger, a silence fell between the two aside from the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of Megumi’s play. Sophi could only twiddle her thumbs as Catrina began setting up her cooking supplies for a meal.

“So...” Sophi began, hoping to break the silence, “How did you know I was an angel?”

“Angels have a… a light to them. After the first few, you can recognize it pretty easily.”

“I- I’m sorry, but what do you mean by ‘the first few’?”

“The first few kills.” Catrina said off-handedly, more interested with the food she was starting to cook than the implications of her words.

“I- I’m- you- what-” All Sophi could do was stutter, utterly perplexed as her mind seemed to have trouble comprehending Catrina’s sentence. “You’ve killed angels before?”

“I have lived a long time and have killed many things. Sometimes for good reasons. Sometimes for not. Angels were in there somewhere.”

Sophi unconsciously dug her nails into her seat as her breath started to quicken and sweat started to bead on her brow. Part of it was because of the now unsettling feeling she was getting from her host, but the other were dark thoughts. She could feel they claw at her insides, whispers that flowed from the depths she had tried to bury them in. She desperately wanted to fight these feelings again, but their words were so tempting now. This woman had killed angels? How could someone destroy something so holy and pure and be safe from judgment or punishment? Each fleeting thought she followed pulled her along a path that spiraled further and further down into the darkness once more. Her vision tunneled, the shadows and branches seeming to grow long and jagged like twisted tentacles as they crept further into view. Before she knew it, her eyes were wild, her brow furrowed, and her breath ragged. A single word, almost not it in her own voice and barely audible over the crackle of the fire, slipped from her lips through gritted teeth.

“Sinner.”

Catrina paused, her collected gaze locking onto Sophi’s far more crazed one. Had Sophi been in a much more attentive mood, she would have noticed a quick flash of confusion and caution in Catrina’s eyes, but they disappeared quickly under her steely facade.

“You- you vile creature. You need to be cleansed-”

“What is your name.” Catrina cut the angel off, her tone less of a question and more of a command.

“Do not try to distra-”

“What is your name.”

Sophi was furious. How did this monster even think it was in any position to make demands. If it would not beg for forgiveness, maybe she should give it her name so it would know what to call out for in its dying breath. “My name is Sophi and I-”

“Where are you right now.”

Sophi gritted her teeth. How many more question was she going to be asked? “Freimrann. Your filthy home.”

Catrina at the very least let the angel finish her sentence. “And tell me why you are here.”

That gave Sophi pause as her racing mind seemed to hit a wall. She knew the answer, but it was struggling to come out passed the divine rage. “I was… I came here to...”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

Sophi blinked as if light had been flashed in her face. The vitriol slowly left her voice as she spoke, “I follow Megumi. She is lost and I have promised to protect her.”

“Repeat it. From the beginning.”

“My name is Sophi. I am on Freimrann. I am following Megumi to protect her.”

“Good. Keep going.”

Sophi closed her eyes and repeated the mantra over and over, each time it brought her slowly back out of the madness. When she finally opened her eyes, the tower was back to its crumbling state, but at least the tree and the shadows were also back in their normal state.

“Thank you,” Sophi said softly. She couldn’t find the words to articulate her thanks and felt like anything she could say wouldn’t be enough.

“It is nothing,” Catrina replied, her focus already back onto the food in front of them, “I have seen many warriors lost to madness and battles with the mind and I have seen the toll it can take on a soul. I cannot say it will always bring you peace, but I do hope it helps. That being said, you can come down now, Child.”

Having been found out from her eavesdropping perch, Megumi slowly floated down from an upper floor and came to sit down near her guardian angel. The two chatted between themselves, Sophi reassuring Megumi she was doing better as the little soratami fretted over her. Catrina left them to their talk, only listening to them in passing as the food finished and she passed them their share.

As the group finished their meal and Catrina started to break camp, she paused, turning slowly to look off into the distance. Sophi and Megumi exchanged a confused look while their host held up a hand. “Someone has entered the plane. It does not feel familiar.”

A roar shook through the woods, guttural and angry that sent birds scattering in the distance. While Catrina was more curious than cautious, she raised an eyebrow to Sophi and Megumi’s horrified looks.

“I assume that is what you are protecting Megumi from.”

Sophi nodded, “That’s Grii. She’s a cyclops that has been chasing Megumi.”

Megumi nodded, gripping tightly onto Sophi’s sleeve as her eyes stayed locked on the direction of the scream.

Catrina liked her teeth as she considered her options. “Go,” she commanded, waving the pair off and much to their confusion.

“You don’t have to do this. We’ve gotten away from her before,” Sophi tried to reassure her, but did get up all the same.

“I will stall her. Or kill her. I have not decided yet.” Catrina kept her eyes on the treeline. “But I am curious and I want to see what is so worrisome.” Catrina stood at the sound of another roar, making her way to the edge of camp and only stopped when she felt something cling to her leg. Megumi had glided up and hugged her side. “It is okay, little one. It is not me that you will have to worry about. Now you two run along. I will be fine.”

Megumi floated back to Sophi. The pair gave Catrina one last thankful look before planeswalking to parts unknown. With that, Catrina stood like a sentinel, eyes once again locked in the direction of the roars. It didn’t take long until the towering form of the cyclops came into the clearing, snapping branches and kicking brush aside as she strode in.

“So the runt and the broken goods ran away again. Typical.” Grii growled, first looking around at the encampment before slowly turning towards Catrina with a large fanged smile. “But it looks like they left me something fun to play with. Well, old woman, do you want to tell me which way they went? Or do you feel like making this difficult?”

Catrina said nothing. All she did was give her a long judgmental gaze as she looked the cyclops up and down.

Grii snarled. “What? Are you deaf? I’m asked you-”

“Is this it? This is what they were scared of?”

It had been some time since Grii had last felt such utter confusion, a level of befuddlement that matched Catrina’s disappointment, but it was quickly replaced by an equal amount of rage. Grii roared and a wave of magic slammed into Catrina and a shiver shot down her spine. She seemed confused for only a moment before a small chuckle left her lips, the laughter only making Grii more furious.

“Fear?” Catrina asked in a mocking tone. The smile on her face was small, but it might as well have been a wicked grin towards the cyclops. Grii charged and threw a wild right hook at Catrina’s jaw, only to have her hand casually batted away with the side of Catrina’s palm. “Do you think you are the first to try that trick on me?”

Grii threw another combo of punches this time connecting against arm and rib before Catrina moved to slip around her fists and grab a hold of Grii’s shirt. All Grii felt was a quick lurch of movement before the world became a blur and found herself pushed flat on her back. She tried to push up, to pry herself from the woman’s grip, but it might as well have been a house placed on her chest.

“Show me why they ran. Do not disappoint me.”

Grii ripped and clawed at Catrina’s arm, scattering flesh and muscle before another blinding blur of movement and vertigo took her. Before she could even react, she felt the sudden and rapid string of blows to her back before she slammed to a halt against a large tree. She braced herself and looked up, the dozens of yards that now suddenly separated the cyclops and the human was filled with smashed trees and destroyed brush. In a single leap, Catrina cleared the broken stumps and scattered limbs, coming to a stop in front of Grii and stood above her.

Grii bellowed again, her scream blood curdling as another wave of chilling dread shot out from her. The wind gusted forward as well, harsh and cold and biting. It howled with the screams of her fallen prey.

Catrina did not budge.

“Did you think it would work better a second time?” She tossed Grii’s sword at her feet, the cyclops not even realizing it had fallen from her grasp after being launched nor the fact that Catrina’s arm had already mended itself. “I do hope you try something other than screaming at me.”

Grii snatched up her sword and swung for Catrina’s neck, dead set on silencing her once and for all. For the first time in this whole confrontation Catrina raised her blade, parrying the strike in a shower of sparks. She swung again and again, rage guiding her sword just as much as her instincts. She felt her arms burn with each strike as she put everything she had into them. Try as she might however, Grii found Catrina moved with a speed and strength she hadn’t expected. She’d swing down to crush the woman only to have her attack deflected and her blade dig into the ground. She’d cut with the force to split a tree only to have her attack stopped as if it was nothing. Catrina’s sword seemed to always be in the right place at the right time and she seemed prepared for attacks before Grii had even started moving.

The cyclops could feel her arms tiring now. Very few of her prey lasted more than a few her empowered swings and even fewer could resist the fear she could inspire. She could count the number of fights she’s fought that lasted more than a couple minutes on her hands. Nothing she did, no amount of fear or strength, seemed to deter this stoic woman. Her mind started to wander to thoughts of simply leaving the fight. She needed to get back to hunting down the twerp and the wannabe hero and then when she was done with them, she’d be back to put this woman down once and for all.

“I think I have seen enough.” Catrina slipped through Grii’s slowing attacks and distracted thoughts to grab her by the collar once more, a move Grii was all too over at this point. Catrina jumped and the sudden rush blood to her feet caused Grii’s vision to tunnel for a moment, coming back to clarity at the apex. They seemed to hover for a second as Grii recovered. They were a few hundred feet up now, far above the forest and far closer to the clouds than was comfortable for Grii.

As they started their descent and Catrina twisted in the air to position the cyclops underneath, it only took Grii a second to realize what Catrina had planned. She bellowed, slamming another wave of fear into Catrina as she ripped and clawed into her arm and face. Catrina held strong, unfazed as her blood and sinew scattered into the wind rushing by them.

Grii’s heart raced as she could feel the ground getting ever closer to the back of her skull. “NEXT TIME, YOU ARE DEAD!” she screamed over the wind. She focused through her own rage, on the lingering mana trail of the angel and soratami, and planeswalked just moments before impacting.

As the dust settled, Catrina stood up slowly from her crater, her body already stitched up from her scuffle in the air. She turned her head skyward, standing in silence feeling the mana trails fade from her world. She had considered finishing off the cyclops for Megumi and Sophi, but bruising Grii’s ego seemed good enough and she was confident the two could handle something like that on their own. Besides, this was a good way to build the child’s character. Maybe she would find them in a few months and see how they were fairing. She nodded to herself, and made her way back into the woods. She had hunting to get back to.

[darlinrogue]

Matt Hardy

For me because I can’t write an actual analysis 

I-Con (ˈīˌkän) noun

1. One who is the object of great attention and devotion; an idol

2. A person or thing regarded as a representative symbol of something

3. An entity that will not die

4. A being or force that is stronger than death

5. MATT HARDY

The Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City was a scene set in Adam Page’s dreams. The stage had hosted acts like Brittney Spears, Avenged Sevenfold, David Bowie, Paramore, All Time Low, Guns N’ Roses, Korn, Iron Maiden, and two farm boys from the rural south who somehow sneaked in before the curtain fell. The wrestling fans in t-shirts, jeans, and bawdy signs, didn’t match the elegant balconies they crowded. The ring was a jagged piece of metallic architecture placed on an old warn, wood floor. Adam Page, twenty-two years old, settled in the far corner with his heart in his throat and his childhood idol adjacent to him. The microphone lifted to Matt Hardy’s lips like he intended to speak. At that moment as Matt Hardy looked over the crowd, it was like a fantasy. Something he spun-up while he bounced on the trampoline with his sister and begged her to let him try the Twist of Fate one more time.

In the 1970 census, a few years before his birth, Matt Hardy’s hometown of Cameron, North Carolina had a whopping population of 204 individuals. In 1990, when Matt and his brother Jeff were mimicking the moves they learned off TV on the trampoline, the population was an impressive 215. Cameron was a small town in the heart of tobacco country, Virginia and Carolina being one of the few places in the United States to grow the desired plant. Running down to the coast, once out of the foothills of the Appalachians and Grandfather Mountain, North Carolina was flat and balmy. Unlike the dense red clay of the Piedmont region, the soil was silty and perfect for farming. Matt probably never saw more than a few inches of snow a Winter. A few hours to the East and he’d stand at the edge of the Atlantic. Along the cat’s claw thin barrier Islands, he’d watch the waves wash over white sand. Hear the whispers of shipwrecks the vicious coast of North Carolina claimed.

A stupid kid like Adam Page, eyeballs glued to the TV screen as WWF played Monday Night Raw or later Smackdown, heard these stories of the Hardy Boyz and looked at his own life. Aaron's Creek, Virginia, made Cameron look like a metropolis. Adam’s hometown was so small it didn’t even deserve a Wikipedia page. His family had deep roots in Virginia because it was a state for lovers. His father also raised tobacco and Adam grew-up amongst the viridian fields, laid out for acres around the house he grew up in. There wasn’t a lot of money for Christmas most years and Adam knew more about the intricacies of cattle farming than he sometimes cared to admit to his classmates. Yet, while his best friends extolled the Hardys for their daredevil stunts, ladders, and chairs. Adam idolized them because they were a proof of concept. That it was possible for a hard-working, farm working, Virgin-lina boy, to grow-up and be hot shit.

In 2013, Adam was starting to warm-up, with a brand new Ring of Honor contract and some neon green trunks. At Final Battle, the crown jewel event of the promotion he just signed-to, Adam had no choice but to laugh as Matt Hardy was almost booed out of the arena the moment he got a mic in his hand. It made Adam feel like a hero. Of the two, the audience preferred Adam Page to Matt Hardy, just incredible. Of course, Matt Hardy, the iconic, was a manipulative and arrogant son of a bitch, who claimed more than was his to take. Never meet your heroes, they say, and when Adam met his, he was kind of a dick. Yet, when Matt Hardy clasped his hand and gave him a firm handshake, that felt like a small victory. An inner ten-year-old in Adam promised to never wash it again.

It was also a statement. A statement that even if Matt Hardy thought he was better than this everybody, he still had to treat Adam with some measure of respect. Never once did Adam allow the stars in his eyes to blind him. There was no point in fighting a legend if it was only half the legend— Adam was going to get all of Matt Hardy, or nothing. So, he slapped Matt Hardy across the cheek and dragged out the old champion.

A year later, when Adam worked under Hardy’s personal brand, OMEGA, Matt would talk up the youthful Adam Page. Call him the future of wrestling, with his impressive moonsaults, clever counters, fearless attitude, and ‘never say die’ mentality. It was a good showing that night. Adam showed a lot of heart. Surely, he impressed someone upstairs— but he didn’t win. And Adam didn’t know what the point of having ‘heart’ was if he couldn’t win with it. Having ‘heart’ is the wrestling equivalent of a participation trophy.

In the Hammerstein Ballroom though, in 2013, a Twist of Fate would plant Adam on his head and the match would end at seven minutes and twenty seconds. That same night, just a couple of months after their New Japan debut, the Young Bucks defeated ACH and TaDarius Thomas. In due course, the Jacksons would join the Bullet Club with one Kenny Omega. Next month, Jimmy Jacobs, Roderick Strong, and BJ Whitmer formed the Decade, then called Adam out in the same breath, all for daring to dream bigger than the East Coast that Ring of Honor frequented. That night, in New York City, in the heart of Manhattan, the Hammerstein ballroom became a pivoting point for Adam’s life. Matt Hardy was Adam’s first breakpoint.

Through the course of 2014, Adam followed Matt’s invitation into OMEGA and crisscrossed central Carolina in search of his next break. Alongside his then tag-partner, Corey Hollis, Adam wrestled one more match in the ring with Matt Hardy. With the addition of his equally strange brother: Jeff Hardy. An eight-man tag where for a  bizarre moment Adam was in the corner with the Hardy Boyz. Twenty years on from WWF ladder matches and the two men, closer to forty than thirty, could still go. Go with the speed and intensity of their youth. With the reckless abandon that defined their careers. These were the type of guys who looked at a wrestling ring and asked, “ you know what needs ?” Then answered: “More hardware.” Watching Matt Hardy, Adam learned when to slow, when to hasten, when to wait, when to press the advantage. Little tricks of the trade. He absorbed all of it like a sponge and held it tight to his chest. Treasure and gold to spend a little farther down the road.

Adam learned that Matt Hardy ran equal parts hot and cold. He was a little off, in a way that wasn’t healthy, but Adam blamed that on a history of concussions and injuries. Arrogant but in a way that was condescending and so he was always willing to groom a newbie to greatness. In fact, Matt Hardy took great pride in taking some young kid and making them a ‘star.’ In a way, every OMEGA recruit was some pet project of Matt or Jeff Hardy. No better way to pat yourself on the back than to make someone. It was never about the protege, though, it was about Matt Hardy. It was about his ego trip, to be able to say—

‘Look what I did for Adam Page.’

And he could cash in his ‘good person’ chip for the week.

Oh, and how Adam knows how it goes. Like, a favorite catchy tune.

BJ Whitmer ruffled his hair and a stupid twenty-four-year-old, hoping for approval, construed it as affectionate. Unaware that the gesture was more like the way a man polishes the rearview window of his new SUV. Yeah, he likes the vehicle, it’s expensive, he’s invested a lot, and he’d get really pissed if someone keyed the paint, but it was nothing but an object. A thing that he owns. A possession to be used and thrown away when it was no longer interesting. Adam was a good boy though and he’d do anything to be wanted, needed, useful. Even pick-up a chair and go against his better nature. The waves of frustration, internal conflict his own actions created, broke him until all that was left was a defensive, angry man biting at any hand that came too close. So, Adam no longer recognized who he was in the mirror. BJ Whitmer didn’t want to see ROH Champion Adam Page, he just wanted someone to carry his bags.

Falling in line with Cody was like falling into an old groove, well worn and well-trodden. When Cody handed that chair to Adam, he knew exactly what to do with it. How to hold Kenny fast and to twist his head so he’d see his incoming braining. Years ago Adam had been wounded and he had never healed. The blood festered and boiled, a slit through his throat hemorrhaging down his bruised chest. Cody stuck his finger in Adam’s festering resentment and anxiety, dug out his trachea. Weaponized Adam’s unspoken fear that Kenny Omega thought he was better than Adam Page and he was using Adam like BJ did two years ago. When Kenny ripped the US title from Adam’s hands and handed it back to Jay White —who he thought they all hated anyway— it was like a slap in the face. That was his moment, Cody declared, he ruined, he stole it. It took a couple of drop kicks from Kota Ibushi and a V-trigger he couldn’t technically remember, for Adam to realize he’d been played. Cody brought Adam no closer to his moment and Adam had ruined his closest friendships. All for a stupid belt.

Kenny never remarked on all of it, probably because he thought Adam too pitiful to deserve admonishment. Or, that his loyalty could be bartered for with games of Mario Tennis. So long as Adam stayed in line and kept his mouth shut, they were fine. Or, maybe Kenny was more forgiving than Adam gave him credit for. That was too much logic for his brain to handle these days, though.

His family once owned a gentle Paso Fino gelding. A sweet boy with soft brown flanks and soulful black eyes. While riding with his father Adam asked if he could cross a field with the horse, if the Paso Fino would canter. Could he persuade this gentle creature to do such a thing? His father chuckled and waxed, “of course you can, he aims to please.” And sure enough, Adam and the Paso Fino flew across the field, in the long smooth gait of the breed. It was beautiful and for a second it was like they shared a mind, but he wished his father never said those words to him. Because every so often, “he aims to please,” applies better to Adam than the horse.

FTR put a bit in Adam’s mouth and led him by the bridle for three months. Somehow their inevitable betrayal came as a shock. It had just been that drinking and joking with Kenny was nice, but the tension in the EVP room was like poison. While the Bucks sat easy, Adam was dying, and FTR, in their caring familiarity was like a breath of fresh air. He wished he could’ve been there for Kenny but he had been there for Kenny and didn’t he deserve a chance to unwind? Unwork the knife from his gut and enjoy an evening with old friends? Stupid, stupid, stupid, so stupid, so blind, so eager to please, that he’d trade real friends for fake friends. FTR played Adam’s fragile ego like a fiddle and left him in the aftermath of his own decisions. Alone and with just Kenny, who no longer wanted anything to do with him.

And after all those lessons, it was painful to realize that Adam Page was just another trinket for the Young Bucks to marvel over. A living, breathing camera stand to film BTE bits and then do the complex editing, giving a polish to the final product. That was the deal, he understood and agreed to it walking into the Bullet Club. He was to be the problem solver. The replacement big guy now that Gallows was gone. Adam beats up the enemies of the Bullet Club and he stays out of the title shot picture, good deal.  A jobber they can hand a trio belt to and smirk over because the Bucks are such good guys. Adam really thought they were his friends and Adam wished he could say he used the Bucks like he used BJ but he never loved BJ like he loved Matt and Nick. It was the first time he was ever happy being a prop but it still hurt, especially the outrage in their eyes when he started thinking for himself.

How dare he become a tag-team champion when that’s what they wanted?

That was the deal though with Matt and Nick, that he stayed out of the way. Adam violated the terms and their friendship crumbled around the broken covenant.

Kenny though, out of all of these betrayals and losses which had left Adam numb to the idea that he was better off alone—

Kenny fucking hurt.

Some of the ideas lacked foundation. Some floated in the bottoms of bottles of whiskey. Some were inklings from years of standing behind a man he was never going to beat. Most of them made Adam feel like an asshole. The ideas went along the tune of:

That Adam was a shitty replacement for Kota Ibushi, the golden lover trapped on the other side of the pacific. When he was in Japan and had unwedged his head from his ass, Adam liked Kota. Kota was brilliant, a true star, and he understood, totally, why Kenny loved him. There was nothing personal or even resentful in this uninspired realization. It wasn’t jealousy. It was the truth and it was a truth Adam had to bear when Kenny let him collapse in the middle of the ring at All Out. Kota Ibushi could win a G1. Become the intercontinental and IWGP heavyweight champion all in one night. Adam couldn’t even beat Chris Jericho. Kota Ibushi was the God of wrestling and Adam Page was the dirty sinner kicked down to the dust where he belonged.

That Adam was a useful tool for Kenny. Just good enough in the ring to carry a tag-team when Kenny was at the far end of a losing streak. A good bolt of confidence, standing on the shoulders of a younger guy. Before he launched off and took the world title belt he so rightfully deserved. The gleam in Don Callis’ eye when Adam shook his hand told him that this was all part of the plan. Adam was written into the script and hit every line he was supposed to. Adam wondered if he was chosen because he was volatile and insecure, and Callis knew that would just push Kenny away. Away and towards Don Callis, and his machinations. Don used Kenny and Kenny used Adam— maybe, it was just Don all along.

That Adam was a pretty thing Kenny could flirt with. Soft, yielding, supportive, loyal, and eager to put his energy towards someone willing to take it. Like a fucking dog, or something. Hope told him there was something to the way Kenny murmured ‘cowboy’ to him in their private moments. That Kenny’s interest went beyond physical and a desire to be topped by a handsome guy like Page. The bitter reality, the pessimist and realist in him, told him it was hollow, fake, that he was being played again. Damnit, though, if he wouldn’t take those crumbs. Because he couldn’t say ‘no’ to Kenny when he smiled. Because he loves Kenny and he can't stop loving Kenny.  

He truly was eager to please.

“Well, it’s okay. You can’t be number one forever anyway, right? Sometimes you gotta take a back seat, and I don’t mind taking a back seat, if it’s to you, buddy.” And Kenny had smiled and nudged his elbow, and Adam hadn’t thought about it as he fiddled with his silly little action figure. When Adam thought back on that interview and thought back on all his twisted thoughts about Kenny, he had almost broken down crying. Because he didn’t know what was true. Kenny was high-up there in his mind and Adam wasn’t sure he could ever shoot him down.

The second Adam Page snatched the title from Jay White’s hands he had known the truth. The light had shone in his eyes and he had flinched. He realized the cost of fame and fortune. The crossroads he stood at, paralyzed in fear and trembling to make a choice. Maybe, he was grateful when Jay defeated him and he could return to the darkness. However, the taste, the warmth of the light, the way his chest swelled and his heart rose, pure, innocent, like a child seeing his first snow, was addicting. Adam knew that he had to step out of the shadows. Out from behind Kenny, Cody, and the Bucks, or he would perish there in the dark. They were never going to turn around and dredge him out of the abyss.

Adam had never realized there was a choice, though: his friends or his soul. And he wonders how many times those friends had made it. How many times the Bucks chose some merch sales over him. How many times Kenny chose a title over him. He knows Cody had chosen his ego over him. Was there a balance? Someplace where you can stand in the light and have those you love with you? For flashes of moments, he sees it, in the Golden Elite, or when the Bucks flanked Kenny in the ring. The balance was called love and it could overcome all trials, or so he’s told. It could mediate the choice between yourself and others.

Yet, Adam knows he’s chosen wrong once or twice, already. So, he’s not sure that kinda love is for him.

John Silvers was on one knee, hand extended, with a goofy grin that Adam had come to appreciate. For the first time in a year, he had felt light and free. It had been nice to exist in a bubble of appreciation and warmth. Yet, there was no room to wiggle, and like a caged, fearful animal, Adam lashed-out. The wording got to him, on the following night when he was thinking about it. He said: ‘I can’t,’ and not ‘I won’t.’ Like, he was physically incapable of saying ‘yes,’ and yet the Dark Order seemed to think ‘no’ was an impossibility. How did they get so screwed-up?

Friendships come with obligations and Adam was aware he’d been shirking his. Not because he felt entitled but because he wasn’t sure he could bear the weight. That he wouldn’t take a stumbling step and collapse on his fractured bones. And that would just be a different kind of a disappointment for the Dark Order than just hearing ‘no’ right out the gate. It’d be his failure with the Bucks and Kenny all over again. Anna was right, Adam had to move on, so they could move on, and maybe it left him bitter that he couldn’t utter an apology, but that’s how things shake-out these days.

The Bucks didn’t want his apology either.

And now, that brought him back to Matt.

Matt Hardy reappeared like a literal ghost in the Summer and Adam still wasn’t sure if the whole Damascus thing was a bit or not. Just that while he sat in a warm bath, water up to his knees and bubbles floating around his elbows, he looked up Benjamin Franklin on his phone. “Franklin was a leading writer, printer, political philosopher, politician, Freemason, postmaster, scientist, inventor, humorist, civic activist, statesman, and diplomat.” Given that Adam Page’s passion since childhood was professional wrestling and throwing his delicate body through tables, none of that resonated with him. And he wasn’t sure if Matt meant he really was the reincarnation of a founding father, or if it was just an apt comparison, but something about the phrase:

‘Join or Die.’

Felt like the story of his life.

Adam’s father kept records of all the songs he listened to when he was growing up. On a rare lazy Sunday, he’d put on the vinyl and let it spin so the music filled the house. Marty Robbins sang of quick finger rangers with big irons on their hips. Waylon Jennings and Lee Greenwood, dreamed of something lost, something mournful, as they rode alone. There was a cost to independence, and beneath the wide brim hat were tired, dark eyes, haunted by those the cowboy left behind. He rode into town looking for a lost love or a home, or just some water for his horse. He’d leave as soon as the plot finished and the town was saved but while the townsfolk rejoiced their salvation, the hero slipped from the jubilee. He was looking for a place he belonged and this was not it, and Adam wondered if he kept looking because there was no place he belonged.

After Dynamite, he took shots in his living room with his dogs laid over his legs and he thought about his wording. ‘I can’t,’ he told John, because, reasons he couldn’t justify in front of an audience of five thousand. So, it seemed fitting that this odd friendship he developed, with another group looking to use him and throw away, began with Matt Hardy. Began when he eliminated the iconic legend from the ring and ended with Matt Hardy, in the ring, begging Adam not to change in the hallway.

Adam didn’t believe a single word Matt said.

He didn’t believe he was a good person who deserved to be happy. He didn’t believe that the Dark Order was awkward — it was, and that’s why he wept with whiskey last week. He didn’t believe that there were no strings attached. He didn’t believe that Matt’s intentions were good or genuine, or even kind. Hell, he never believed John Silver when he called Adam handsome and amazing because that kinda flattery was useless.

He did believe that Matt was going to use him. He did believe that when Matt Hardy brought down the other shoe it was going to hurt like hell. He did believe that by this point, Adam was so calloused, scarred, and numb, that the pain wouldn’t even register. He did believe that he was so desperate, alone, and miserable, that he’ll take any bone thrown at him. He did believe that whatever plan Matt Hardy cooked-up for him was going to end up with him back in the dirt. He did believe that he no longer cared enough about himself to care. He did believe that all he wanted was a place to hang his hat and to lace his boots.

He did believe Tony Schiavone when he said, “you should take him up on that.”

Because, shit, who wants to change by catering?

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia: Once Upon a Time

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a boy named Isamu.   He was tall and he was kind and he was known for being extraordinarily fleet of foot.  It was said that he had a kind word for everyone, though he was possessed of a nervous disposition, given to jumping at the slightest surprise.  But in spite of that, he was quick to speak up for those in need and quick to rush to the aid of others.

In other times, he might have been a knight, a protector of the realm, so great was his desire for to help others.  But that was an impossible thing, because he was a commoner.  He had no noble lineage and parents were ordinary people.  It had been said in times past that the common folk could earn knighthood by special deed, but in his small town, it seemed as though that would never happen.  Isamu fully expected to live out a normal, happy life, free from the troubles and adventures that had once plagued the land.

But fate often has a way of proving such beliefs wrong, as Isamu would find out one summer day.

***

His parents had sent him to the neighboring larger city to sell some of their wares and it had been a good day.  Isamu was ready to return home and his pack was lighter by far but his coin purse heavier.  Just as he finished tying together the bundle of his pack, an ugly voice split the air.

“Give us your purse and we won’t hurt you. Much.”

His eyes instantly went to the source of the voice.  Two big men, both of rough and dangerous, had cornered a girl about his age and had her blocked against a wall.  She wore a hooded cloak, despite the summer heat, but from what he could see, she was pale and very slight.  There would be very little that she could do to defend herself.

He looked around.  No one was paying them any attention.  It was just one more facet of life in a bigger city, he guessed. People said it happened all the time.  People said things like “somebody ought to do something about it.”  But right now, there weren’t even any members of the city watch around.

He should have just kept walking.  It was none of his business.  This was just the way of the world sometimes.  No one would have blamed him.  Both of the men had muscles he could only dream about and both were armed, carrying knives that looked like they had not been cleaned in some time.  He was just a gangly young man and no one would have ever expected that he act.

And yet, his body moved on its own.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was running forward, swinging his pack through the air in big circles.   He let out a sound that was half battle cry and half terrified scream before releasing it.  The pack sailed through the air and hit the nearest of the two with a heavy impact, knocking him senseless.  The sound of shattering pottery told him that he would be having a very difficult discussion with his parents when he returned home, assuming he survived the next several minutes.

“What the hell?” the one who was still standing asked, turning to face him.   He swung his knife wildly, slicing through the air.  “That was a mistake, boy!  You’re going to pay for that!”  He took a menacing step forward, the girl seemingly forgotten for a moment.

It was starting to look even less likely that he was going to survive the next few minutes.  Which was, in truth, a relief, because it meant he would not have to explain anything else.  He could only hope that the girl would run while the man took his anger out on him.

But just as suddenly, the man paused, stopping dead in his tracks.  Fear flashed over his face and the knife fell to the ground, his fingers suddenly gone boneless from terror.  “I… we weren’t meaning no harm, see?” the man babbled.  “I’ll just… be going now…”

Isamu did not know what caused the man to turn tail and run, but he was grateful for whatever it was.  The girl, who had not fled as he had hoped, stepped over the unconscious form of her other attacker and smiled at him.  Up close, he could see that she was very beautiful and had kind eyes.  Her smile made him feel as though all was right with the world.

“Thank you,” she said, and her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, like someone unaccustomed to speaking loudly.  “You were very brave.  But there was no need to endanger yourself.  I would have been all right.  And even if I was not, my friends would have taken care of them.”

Her friends?

A grunt behind him made him turn.  Behind him was a young man about his age, with a shock of green hair, dressed in well-worn, but clearly high class clothes, a scabbard on his back and a sword in his hands.  Next to him was the most terrifying girl he had ever seen, short, but with thick muscles and red eyes that seemed to glow.  She had to be from the barbarian outlands, for she was dressed in furs and skins, her arms and stomach exposed to the elements.  An axe that looked far too heavy to hold was in her hands and her face was twisted up in rage.

The boy relaxed when he saw that things seemed to be all right.  “Thank you,” he said to Isamu, replacing his sword in its scabbard.  “We could have handled them, but I’m glad we didn’t have to.”

The scary girl on the other hand, pushed past him and approached the girl, putting her hands on her upper arms with a tenderness that surprised him.  “Are you all right, Izumi?” she asked.

“I am fine,” the other girl said.  “You worry too much, Katsumi.”

“I worry exactly the right amount,” the scary girl—Katsumi—said.  “It’s not safe for you here.  We need to…”

A stiff breeze chose that moment to pick up, and it flung the pale girl’s hood back, fully revealing her pale face and soft features.  Hair that was white, but became red, cascaded from her head.

Isamu sucked in a breath in surprise.  Even being from a small village, he recognized the princess of the realm.

***

“You’re the… you’re… you’re…” Isamu stammered, arms flailing through the air wildly.  Some powerful instinct dropped him to his knees and he averted his eyes.  Of all the people in all the land, he never would have expected in a thousand years to see the princess!  What was she doing here?  Why wasn’t she at the castle?  And why was she in the company of a barbarian?

“Please,” Princess Izumi said, “rise.  There is no need for ceremony here.”  She carefully pulled her hood back up, hiding her hair once again.

“And you’re going to blow our cover, you fool!” the barbarian woman snarled, clenching a fist.

It was the green haired boy who helped him back to his feet, offering him a hand up.  Isamu took it gladly.  “Sorry about that,” he said.  “Katsumi can be a little scary, but she is right.  We can’t afford to draw any attention to ourselves.  There’s people chasing us who would do anything to catch us.”

“Tell the whole flaming world, why don’t you, Toshi?” the barbarian girl, Katsumi, snapped.

“I should at least like to compensate you for your troubles,” Princess Izumi said, reaching into the pouch on her belt.  “We do not have much, but you risked much for us and…”

Isamu shook his head. The click of coins sounded like silver or maybe gold, money that would have more than paid for what he lost in merchandise throwing his pack. “I don’t need a reward.  It was the right thing to do, even if it cost me.”

“Great,” Katsumi said, pacing impatiently.  “He’s fine.  You’re fine.  We’re all fine. Can we go now?  We need to get to Naruhata by nightfall.”

“As soon as we figure out where it is,” Toshi said.

The barbarian girl gave him a menacing look, though Toshi did not flinch from it.  In fact, he seemed far too used to it.  “Which would be a lot easier if you hadn’t the lost the maps.”

“I apologized for that already!  And I didn’t lose them!  They set them on fire!”

“Naruhata?” Isamu asked.  He didn’t want to think about who they were.  “I’m from there.  I can take you.”

In the back of his mind, he wondered if whoever they were, they would follow.  Was he bringing danger home?

But this was the princess.  The boy seemed important too.  He didn’t know about the barbarian; she was too scary to focus on for long anyway.  He would swear that her eyes seemed to glow when she got mad(der), and that he could see little puffs of smoke on her breath.

The barbarian girl looked at him with her wild eyes.  “Well, guess who just got himself elected guide.”

Princess Izumi laid a hand on the barbarian’s shoulder.  “There is no need for that, Katsumi.  You’re frightening him.”

Katsumi seethed for a moment, but calmed under the princess’s touch.  “Hmph.”

The princess turned to him.  “I am afraid we must ask for your help again. It may be dangerous.  But the safety of the kingdom, the safety of our parents, the safety of everything depends on our mission.”

That was scary news indeed.  But what could Isamu do?  His father had always said that if you were able to help someone, you should.  Small acts of kindness had the power to move mountains.

“I’ll take you,” he said.

***

The light of day was beginning to fade as they walked the road from the city to Naruhata.  It wasn’t far, only a couple of hours walk, but there were some parts that were tricky if you didn’t know the way, where the road ended.  Without a map, Toshi, Katsumi, and Princess Izumi probably wouldn’t have found it.

What a strange trio they made!  Despite being no older than him and all of them being shorter than he was, they all seemed to carry themselves with so much more confidence than he had ever had.  The barbarian girl Katsumi in particular seemed to walk through the world as though it had personally offended her and was moments away from feeling her wrath.  And yet, whenever Princess Izumi was involved, she seemed to soften for just a moment.   Already, he had seen her listen to the princess many times.

The green haired boy, Toshi, carried himself like a knight, taking the lead, and scanning ahead for trouble.  The sword on his back had to be heavy, but he carried it was though it was nothing, and though he seemed concerned about something (probably whatever they were running from), he also seemed to clearly believe that whatever happened, it would work out.  He seemed neither quite as high class as the princess, nor as rough as Katsumi.  His clothes were well-worn, but high-class, a contradiction if ever there was one.  It was rare to find a noble who understood the plight of the common folk, and yet Isamu was certain that he did.

Even the princess was surprising.  She was easily one of the most beautiful girls Isamu had ever seen.  Her reputation as the fairest in all the land was well earned.  But so to was her reputation for kindness.  She spoke to him as those he were an equal, even though he had to fight every instinct to avert his eyes rather than look upon her.  And yet there was something about her, a steel hidden within her silk, that told him she truly could have protected herself if it had come to it.  But what was she doing here?  The palace was many leagues away, in the center of the land.  Surely King Shoto and Queen Momo would not have allowed their daughter to travel so far, especially in such strange company.

“You must have questions,” Princess Izumi asked, walking beside him.  Toshi and Katsumi were in front, though Katsumi continued to look back to check on her and to glare at him.

“I, ah, yes,” Isamu said.  “None of you seem like the kind of people you would find around here.  And I didn’t think people did quests anymore…”

“Would that it were so,” the princess said, with a slight bow of her head.   “But there is always darkness in the land.  And right now, there is far more of it than there has been in many years.”

Isamu felt a cold chill go up his spine at her words.

“You know that my parents are the king and queen,” she said.  “Toshi’s father is my father’s most trusted friend and knight and his mother a mage of the court.  And Katsumi is the daughter of the chieftain of the barbarians who roam the kingdom’s outlands, through a mutual arrangement between their chieftain and my father.”

So he was indeed traveling with very important people, a commoner among nobles.  Of course, the tales said that the king’s most trusted knight had once been a commoner himself, raised to his current station by the sponsorship of a golden champion and by his own heroic deeds, but no one knew if those tales were true.

“Many years ago,” the princess continued, “our parents banded together with several others and drove back the greatest threat our land had ever seen.  A dark wizard had left behind a disciple called Shigarki.  It took all of them and many more besides to defeat him.  It brought about a new age of peace.

“But Shigarki left behind many tools and weapons of his war on peace.  We had thought them all destroyed, but someone has found what was left, foul monsters called the Nomu, and used them to wage war on peace all over again.  Already, the outlands have fallen, and many more lands besides.

“Before they took our kingdom, Toshi’s and my parents were able to spirit us out of the castle, with maps and the names of towns where it was said we might find weapons and allies to stop the threat.  We already found Toshi’s sword and Katsumi’s axe, but on our way, we were attacked, and lost the next maps we were to use.”

“That… that’s bad,” he said, feeling dumb that he had no better words.

“It is,” she agreed.  “But I have faith that we will succeed.”  She grew quiet.  “We must.”

Before them, Katsumi suddenly stopped and held up a hand.  Around them, it had grown darker.  Ahead of them, the path wound through dark woods, much more frightening now, somehow, than they had been when he had first walked this way. She sniffed the air deeply, then reached for her axe.   “Damnation,” she growled.  “They’ve found us.  Get ready for a fight.”

Toshi drew his sword.   “Isamu, we’ll hold them off as best we can.  But if it starts looking dangerous, I want you to take Izumi and run.”

He gulped.  “I… I can do that.”

“I will not flee,” Izumi said, producing a pair of small daggers from her belt.  She handed one to him, which he took with shaking hands.  He had never wielded a weapon before.

He heard it before he saw it.  The sound of something heavy coming from the woods, steps that made the ground shake.  And they were upon them, monstrous, twisted creatures, with dead skin, beaks, and their skulls open, exposing the brains within.

One of them let out a monstrous roar that he would remember for all of his days.

***

Without any fanfare, the creatures attacked.  Toshi met them first, swinging his sword in a wide arc, leaving a great gash in the skin of the nearest monster.  There was no blood and it did little to stop the creature, so he struck again and again, his sword flashing like lightning.

“DIE!” Katsumi yelled, adding her axe to Toshi’s sword strikes.  With a single blow, she beheaded the monster.  Oily black fluid went flying from the stump and the head landed several feet away, but the body continued to move and fight.

There were four of the monsters all together and the one Toshi and Katsumi were fighting was by far the biggest.  Two smaller ones broke past them to attack Isamu and the princess, while the last circled around to try and get at Katsumi and Toshi from behind.

It let out a growl and struck out.  In a panic, Isamu stabbed forth with his borrowed dagger.  It left a scratch along the creature’s skin, which then immediately burst into flames along the scratch.   Had he done that?   It must have been the power of the dagger.

Princess Izumi dodged out of the way of the other’s strike, stabbing her own dagger into its hand.  From the point where she had stabbed it, ice spread out, freezing the creature’s hand solid, so that when she wrenched her dagger free, it shattered.  It let out a monstrous howl, but struck again, forcing her to take steps back.

His own foe seemed no worse for wear for the flames that appeared every time he struck it with his dagger.   All he could do, it seemed, was hold it at bay.  Thankfully, he was fleet of foot and able to dodge its blows, but he knew he could not do it forever.  Unless something changed, he would likely tire long before the monster did.

“Oooh!”  Princess Izumi let out a cry as the creature struck out with its remaining hand, tearing through her cloak and knocking her to the ground.

“Princess!” he shouted, throwing himself in front of her.  He struck out, stabbing the creature in the eye.  As he pulled the dagger back, the creature’s head burst into flames.  It let out a great roar and when he looked upon its burning face, he saw not bone and muscle under its skin, but clockworks!

“How?” he asked.  “It’s… not alive?”

Princess Izumi got her feet, standing beside him.  “Yes and also no, I think. �� The clockworks augment something that was never natural to begin with.   Foul magics indeed.”

The other one had regained its senses, even as it burned.  It struck out again and this time both of them stabbed it at once.  Their daggers struck home, and flames and ice both spread along its body.   The intense heat and cold must have proved too much for it or its clockworks, because it jerked to a stop, twitching as it collapsed.

“Are you all right?” the princess asked.  Worry marred her delicate features.

“I, ah, I, I guess?” he said.  “I never really did anything like that before.  Ever.”

“Battle is never easy,” she told him.  “Even less so your first time.  But you did well.  I am just sorry I did not have time to tell you about my daggers, and even more sorry to have dragged you into this.”

“I volunteered to help,” he said.  “And it’s definitely not your fault those things are after you all…”

Speaking of…

It looked like Toshi and Katsumi had finally subdued the one she had beheaded, chopping enough of its body to keep it from moving.  The other one was bigger and slower, but it wasn’t going down from any of their strikes.  Instead, it struck out again, knocking Toshi away and sending his sword clattering from his hands.  Its follow-up blow hit Katsumi hard and it pinned her to the ground.  She tried to reach out and grab her axe, but it was just too far away.

“Katsumi!” the princess screamed.  Isamu had to restrain her to keep her from rushing forward and attacking that monster.  “Let me go!  She needs help!”

“That thing will kill you!” Isamu said.  They had been lucky with the others.  That one had beaten Toshi and Katsumi…

“Don’t worry, Izumi,” the barbarian girl said, laughing in spite of the danger she was in.  “I got this.”

And then she began to change.

***

He couldn’t see it clearly, because the monster’s bulk was in the way, but Katsumi’s skin began to ripple and her features began to stretch and distort, as crimson scales spread across her body.  Hands and feet became claws, tearing through her furred boots.  She was growing too, becoming larger and larger, the force her of growth enough to throw the monster off her.  Leathery wings sprouted from her back and her face began to elongate.

In mere moments, there was no more Katsumi, barbarian girl.

There was, instead, a crimson dragon, big enough that a man might ride it, dwarfing the monster.  But the eyes of the dragon still seemed very human and very intelligent.  The monster roared a challenge and the dragon roared one right back.   Neither seemed cowed by the other.

But the dragon kept roaring and unleashed a powerful blast of flame.  It engulfed the monster, setting it on fire.  The heat was so intense it took the beast’s flesh off, exposing the iron and other clockworks underneath.  The dragon kept the attack up, even as the clockwork monstrosity struggled to step forward, until the heat melted it into a messy puddle.

By now, Toshi had recovered.  “Katsumi!” he shouted.  “I think it’s dead!”

One of the dragon’s eyes looked upon him, then back the mess that had once been the monster.  It stopped its fiery assault and Isamu would swear it was smirking.  Then, just as suddenly as it had happened before, the dragon began to change.

“You may wish to avert your eyes,” the princess told him.

It took him a moment’s thought to realize what she meant, but as he saw scales become skin, he hastily found somewhere else to look.

“In your pack, Toshi?” Princess Izumi asked.

“Ah, yes,” Toshi replied.  “Over there… somewhere.  I can’t look right now.”

“Allow me, then,” Princess Izumi said, walking past Isamu.

There were the sounds of hushed conversations for a moment, before the princess spoke again.  “You may turn around, gentlemen.  Thank you for your patience.”

When Isamu turned around, Katsumi seemed dressed the same as she had been, though her boots were new.   He must not have been able to keep the curiosity off of his face.

“Did you think you were missing seeing me naked?” Katsumi asked, sneering.  She laughed.  “You wish.  Most people just don’t like seeing me turn back.   I’m told it isn’t pretty.  Murder on my boots though.”  She retrieved her axe and gave it a few experimental swings, which seemed to satisfy her.

His mind reeled.  How had she done that?  It was rumored that one of the last dragons served the barbarian chieftain, but how would she have inherited such power?  He had already thought her to be dangerous, but now she seemed so much more so.

“Those monsters…” Isamu began.  

“The Nomu I spoke of,” the princess said.  “And where those travel, I fear there may be more.”

More?  But if they were already this close, then could they have made it…

Isamu ran.

***

Isamu did not know how long he ran for.  At a walk, they had still been two hours out from his village.  At a run, for someone was fleet of foot as he was, it took considerably less time.  His thoughts drifted to his traveling companions, to brave Toshi, frightening Katsumi, and Princess Izumi, who had surprised him with how well she had fought and taken care of herself.  He had not meant to leave them behind like that and he hoped that they had been able to follow.

But when he came upon his village of Narahuta, his heart sank and at last his knees gave out, dropping him to the ground.  The village was aflame, many of the structures already collapsed or charred nearly beyond recognition.   The baker’s shop.  The town hall.  The church.  The… the houses…

There were three of those monstrous Nomu tearing through what few structures remained, one long-limbed and more animal-like, prowling about on all fours, one large and muscular, like one of the creatures he and his companions had fought already, and one pale and winged, with flames dancing all along its body.  He quickly ducked out of sight, behind one of the buildings still standing, one of the storehouses, and hoped that they could not see him, or worse, smell him.

It was only then, with the sounds of flames and monsters and his own breath ringing through his ears that he realized what he was not hearing.   People.   There were no sounds of people, none at all.   No cries or screams or pain or fear, not one trying to mount some kind of defense, nothing.

The people of his village were farmers and merchants and craftsmen.  There were few, if any, weapons in the village.  They would have been helpless when these monsters attacked…

But he had seen no bodies either.   No corpses sliced to ribbons, no charred skeletons, nothing.  Whatever had happened, it was as though no one had ever lived her at all.

He ran again, this time towards his home, not caring if the monsters saw him or not.  When he arrived, his hopes were quickly dashed.   Where once there had been his home, there was only ash and scorched earth.   Of his parents, there was no sign.

But there, in the middle what remained of the floor of what had once been his home, was what was clearly a trapdoor.   Strange.  He didn’t remember seeing that before.   But hadn’t there always been a rug there?   Had his parents been hiding something?  He wouldn’t have thought it possible.  He thought of his dad as one of the most honest people in the whole world.

Carefully, he crept forward and opened the trapdoor, the wood not even singed and the metal cool.  He could tell now that was closer that a protective sigil, a closed fist with a knuckleduster, had been drawn on it.  That must have been expensive.   Wandering wizards were few and far between and quite costly.  What could his parents have possibly had that was worth protecting like that?

Inside, he found a pair of gauntlets, shining and metallic, while looking remarkably flexible.  There was something about them that instantly told him they were magical.  It just raised more and more questions.   His eyes fell on a roll of parchment, perfectly preserved, and nestled between them.  Carefully, he grabbed the parchment and unrolled it.

 Son,

 If you’re seeing this, then something bad’s happened.  I’d hoped to never have to show you these.  I’d hoped that, at least, I’d have been able to give you these myself.  But sometimes, what we hope for isn’t what happens.

 What I never told you was, once upon a time, I was known as the Crawler of the Woods.  I was never a knight or a squire or a rogue or anything like that, but I did a little bit of good and I helped people. It was thanks to these gauntlets that I was able to do it.  They’ll give you the power to fight whatever evil is out there again.  They won’t be as good as some of the magical stuff they give people up at the castle or in other reaches of the kingdom, but they did some good once.  And they can again.

 No matter what happens, know that I love you and I know you’ll make me proud.

 Dad

There was no time for tears now.  It was too much to think about.   He would probably have a good cry later, when there weren’t monsters about.  Carefully, once again, he reached out and grabbed the gauntlets.  They slipped onto his hands easily, not even needing any adjustment.  The fingers were surprisingly flexible and he could swear he could see a faint blue-white glow between the joints.

“Look out, you idiot!”  A harsh voice—he realized quickly it was Katsumi’s—split the air and he looked over his shoulder just in time to see one of the Nomu coming for him.

***

Isamu rolled just in time to see the Nomu swing its massive arm and hit the ground with a ferocious impact.  It was the big one he’d seen earlier.  Reflexively, he brought up a hand to try and shield his face should its attention turn on him again.  From the palm of the gauntlet, a beam of blue-white light shot out and struck the Nomu, burning a hole right through its skin.  He could see the gears underneath and saw that some had melted and ground to a stop.

It was not nearly enough to stop it.

But it was enough to get its attention.  The Nomu pivoted and raised its arms to strike again, letting out that terrible roar that he could feel in his bones.  Isamu saw his life flash before his eyes.

No!  He couldn’t die here!  He had to find out what had happened to his parents and the people of his village!  He had to find out why his father and now he had these gauntlets.  He had to live!

“C’mon,” he hissed.   “Do it again…”   He pointed both his hands and wished with all his might that they would fire again.   Once more, blue-white beams of light lanced out and pieced the Nomu’s body, knocking it back for a moment.   He realized that he’d maybe bought himself moments at best.

 SCHLICK!

There was a sickening sound, as an axe blade split the Nomu clean in half.  As the pieces fell to either side, he saw Katsumi standing behind it.  She had a feral grin on her face and, in his opinion, it took a far too long moment for the battle lust to leave her eyes.

“I guess I should thank you for distracting it,” she said.  “Where’d you get the new toys?”

“I...  I found them,” he said.  “They were buried under my house.”

“Your house?” she snapped.  And then she looked around, as though seeing the damage for the first time.  Her expression softened by several degrees and he remembered that something had happened to the barbarian outlands.  Were her parents…?   “I’m sorry.”

She shouldered her axe and offered him a hand up.  He took it and she hauled him to his feet roughly.  “Word of advice?” she said.  She didn’t wait for him to respond.  “Any fight you don’t end up dead from is a good one.”   She gave him a slap on the back that nearly knocked him over.

“C’mon,” she added.  “Toshi and Izumi were going after the other ones.”

“And you came to save me?” he asked.

“Figured there’d be a fight,” she said.  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The sounds of battle filled the air.  Sword against flesh, the war cries of the Nomu…

Katsumi took off towards the sounds of the fight without even looking back.

***

They arrived just in time to see Toshi’s sword fell one of the Nomu, the one that had been like a giant dog.  There were burn marks and signs of freezing, where Princess Izumi’s daggers must have struck home.   Toshi held his sword tightly, eyes darting around for signs of any further danger.  Relaxing only slightly when he was Katsumi and Isamu arrive.

“You’re all right!” he called out.  “Thank goodness!  When you took off… and then when we saw the village…”   His voice trailed off, uncertainly.

“We feared the worst,” Princess Izumi finished.  She held a dagger in each hand, looking ready to use them again if the need arose.  Where had a princess learned to fight like that?

“Sorry about that,” Isamu said, feeling guilty for having left them behind.  Fear had overtaken his heart and now that shamed him.

“I can’t blame you,” Toshi said.  “I’d probably have done the same.”

“Is your family..?” the princess began.  “We haven’t seen anyone other than you.”

He shook his head sadly.  “Gone.  My home was burned to the ground.  And there were no people, anywhere.”   He held up his hands, showing off the gauntlets.  “But I did find these.”

“They’ve got some punch,” Katsumi replied.  “Probably enchanted.”

Princess Izumi and Toshi exchanged glances.  “Do you think…?” the princess asked.

“I do,” Toshi agreed with a nod.  “Isamu… I think those were what we were meant to find.  The maps said we might find a weapon and an ally here.”

Had it meant his father?  Was he known to heroes of the realm?  “I think you’re right,” he said.  “And you’re right… you did find an ally.”

He looked around.   “There’s nothing for me here now. “

“Place is just like everywhere else,” Katsumi said, bitterly.  “When those damn things came to the outlands, there wasn’t anything left.”

“Father believed the people were not killed, but taken,” the princess said, kindly, and he realized those words were both for him and for Katsumi.   “He thought there a very good chance they are still alive.”

“If not,” Katsumi growled, “then I’m not just going to kill whoever’s behind this.  I’m going to kill them double dead!”

Isamu took a slight step further away from the scary barbarian girl.   “I hope you’re right,” he said.  “But whatever happens, I need to see this through to the end.  That is, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Toshi said.  “It’s said these weapons we find can only be used by the worthy.  Those gauntlets must have chosen you.  And I can tell already, you’ve got the heart of a hero.”

“I knew it from the moment you were able to unleash the power of my Dagger of Flame,” the princess said.   “The road before us is hard, but it will be better traveled in the company of friends.”

Isamu nodded, the future stretching out before him uncertainly.  He knew not what it held, just that it would hold challenges aplenty.  But something worried him in the back of his mind…

“Wait,” he said, “there was another Nomu, with wings.  Where did it…?”

As one, the four of them looked up.  In the sky, heading towards the far distant mountains, was the last Nomu.  Even assuming Katsumi could turn into a dragon again, there was no way they could catch it.

“It would be safe to say it’s returning to its foul master,” the princess said.  “Whoever they may be… they will know what transpired here today.”

That was not an encouraging thought.  But from the way his new companions had spoken earlier, it seemed there was little encouraging these days.

“Let them,” Katsumi said.  “Let them know we’re coming for them all.”

There was great evil out there.  But perhaps, in finding his father’s gauntlets, there was some measure of hope as well.

As for whether or not hope could turn back darkness…  That was a story for another day.

[hellspathfinder]

Thunderous Passing of Titans

Excerpts from “Ravounel: A History” by author-unknown 4719, Ravounel.

“The truth is, revolution is an ugly affair.  The short-short version goes like this: citizens of Kintargo had enough. They rose up, killed their Lord Mayor that the capital had sent to bully them, and seceded from Cheliax. 

This was a struggle 100 years in the making. Starting the moment Abbie 1 swore allegiance to Asmodeus, people in the North didn’t take to it. They grumbled and they swore ‘better not try to bring that devil-talk up here...’ Well, they did just that. 

The Silver Ravens were like the city’s elite defense force. They had chased off or killed many great threats to their home that came from Nidal, or the Sea, or the mountains. Now they faced a threat from within.

They fought the new order laid down by Thrune and they did well at first, but they faltered. They went too far and turned on each other. Kintargo’s celebrity defenders all turned up dead or disappeared, and things were quieter for about three quarters of a century.

One thing tumbles into another though. A hell-knight raids the mansion of a nobleman found in violation of some this or that. There he finds a sword Iomedae used to carry. So he takes it and proudly hangs it up in Citadel Dinyar. When the Iomedaeans get wind of it, they feel they should have it instead. The hell-knights, never much for words, just say ‘No.’

The paladins take this harder than anyone expects, and raise a force. They storm the hell-knight’s fortress, lock them up or kill them and they take the sword. Seeming surprised at their own success, they figure they’ll just press on and see what else they can trash in Cheliax, Iomedae’s old stomping grounds. Fools from afar flock to their banner and soon they’re not just a band of upstarts, they’re downright “Glorious” in their own words.

This sends Cheliax into a panic. You know when you’re real scared and all the blood rushes into your body, your limbs go numb, and your head and heart start going fast as they can? That’s what Cheliax does. They pull back the army. The Navy blockades the Inner Sea. They close all the passes and so Kintargo is left to its own devices and a crazy Thrune-cousin named Barzillai is put in charge.

This ‘Barzillai’ is a cruel sort but he loves Kintargo. He moves into the Opera house, sees shows every week, has big expensive dinners and buys up art from all over. He also publicly humiliates anyone who goes against him and puts the city on a curfew. Imagine that? He’s loving and enjoying the Kintargo night-life but he tells the common-folk they’ve got a bedtime. Nope.

So the Silver Ravens emerge again. Different people, same anger. They start picking old Barzillai apart. They make a fool of him so he squeezes harder but they don’t bend. He gets really mean and they leave his Dottari dead in the streets. Then the city’s at war with itself and the rest of the world goes dark to us. Nidal closes it’s borders. No more ships come up the coast. Menador pass is shut.

So we Kintargans hash this out ourselves. Barzillai lays trap after trap and does some damage, but the Ravens keep escaping. Finally it’s just fighting in the streets, only Barzillai don’t step in the street, he flies over us all on his blue dragon breathing hellfire. He’s had enough. He’s fallen out of love with Kintargo and just wants to watch it burn.

That’s when the Ravens crawl out of the river, the dark alleys, even the taverns and just take him on. He tries to burn the library and they put it out. He tries to hold Bleakbridge and they cover the stones in Dottari blood. Barzillai even sneaks in some Thrune warships from Pezzack but mother nature herself rises up and beaches a couple of them before the last one stands out to sea.

Now B.Thrune is hopping mad. He sends the dragon to Aroden Plaza where the Ravens & Dottari are mixing it up, and breathes fire on the lot of them. Killing his friends and enemies alike. The Ravens survive it and a local boy, Lothario, lands a lucky shot wounding the drake and she retreats back to the Temple of Asmodeus - highest building in the city.

The Ravens clean up the streets with the help of the Hellknights of the Torrent. No one knew who’s side they’d come in on until Barzillai hedged his bets and banned them, took their holdings, and locked them up. That pissed them right off and they are Blue as the ocean now, not a spot of red on them.

The Ravens and Knights of the Torrent siege the temple, pinning the Asmodeans in there, but Barzillai has his dragon fixed up. He rides out to destroy. Throwing punches in the air, we call it, only these fists are 200 foot pillars-of-flame. He kills some good people and destroys some parts of Kintargo we still don’t have back.

He even goes for the orphanage but old Clenchjaw draws him off. Nobody rightly heard what Clench said to Barzillai  as he sailed past on his dragon, but it must have been something. Thrune turned, spared the orphanage and dropped a building on old Clenchjaw. Took us a week to dig him out, dead with a smile on his face and his hands clenched in fists.

The Ravens work up the nerve to go into the devil’s home, and this flushes the dragon out. That’s when we learnt that the Ravens fight devils with angels. A huge man made of pure silver wielding a green-glass sword fought that dragon and knocked old Barzillai clean off it and into the streets. Most will say the Angel killed him, but I saw it with my own eyes. 

Gabriel, the Angel Raven did knock him off of Rivizair, the great blue drake, but Barzillai wasn’t done. He took them all on toe to toe and killed Elia Nones of the Scourge of Belial and Chuko the priest / weapon-trader from the Northside. The Captain of the Scourge was also present. And as the dragon had burned his ship to the waterline two days prior, and Barzillai had just killed his first mate, he’d had enough. He stepped to the Lord Mayor and ran him clean through.

But he didn’t die. Friends of devils are the Thrunes. It took a bit of help from Gabriel but they got him properly chopped up and moved onto his next life. We all thought that’d just be the end of him.

The people reinstated Jilia as Lord Mayor the very next day and we declared independence shortly after. We setup a statue of old Clenchjaw on the newly renamed Silver Span, formerly Bleakbridge.  Thrune sent us a nasty note and we had a long way to go to settling it all, but that was the Battle for Kintargo, 76 years in the making.”

[thewarriorandtheking]

An Unexpected Rescue

When I read this prompt I immediately got the idea for this little story...

“Oh, my dear. Your have nothing to apologize for.” 

52-Week Challenge MasterList 

The Warrior and The King MasterList 

*******************************************

Thorin Oakenshield was sitting by the campfire enjoying a pipe and watching the sun go down in a blaze of red when the wolves came running into camp. He and Kaylea Wolf were on their way back to Erebor, camping along the Anduin on a beautiful summer night, perfect for being out of doors. Kaylea was down at the river cleaning up after dinner, all was peaceful and quiet until the wolves showed up. They came flying into camp at full speed, Vuko stopped to circle him while Ajax ran for the river. She was very agitated, Thorin could feel her pleading with him to follow her, but he could not make out why.

“Calm down, girl,” he told her. He set aside his pipe and stopped her, grasping her head with his hands. “Tell me what it is.”

Vuko sent him a jumble of pictures. Strangely dressed Men, wagons, wolf pelts, wolves in cages. Many wolves, and little frightened faces. Pups. He was trying to make sense of it when Kaylea strode back into the camp with Ajax.

“It seems we have some animal traffickers in the forest,” she said, gathering her weapons.

Thorin shook his head. “Who would want a wild wolf?”

“Lots of reasons, none of them good.” Kaylea whistled for the horses. “For sport in the arena, to train hunting dogs, to fight them with other animals, for rich men with no hunting skill to kill in a pen.”

“The depravity of Men never ceases to amaze me,” Thorin sighed, picking up his saddle. He looked at Vuko beside him. “And here I was, looking forward to a quiet evening.”

Kaylea laid a hand on his shoulder. “It needs to be done,” she said. “And it will be fun!”

Thorin rolled his eyes at his wife. Though he had spent years among them, he still did not understand the Dorsai thirst for battle, how they could run into any fight with wide smiles, always looking like they were having the time of their lives. But he also knew his wife would never understand the joy he felt working a piece of metal into exactly the right shape, even if it took days.

The wolves led the way along the edge of Mirkwood, headed north toward the old Forest Road. Thorin had many bad memories of the forest and it was still a very dense, forbidding wood, but since the defeat of Sauron it had become a much less evil place. He had ridden through it a couple of times now with Kaylea and Gandalf had been right, as long as you stayed on the road the passage was not difficult. The road ran nearly straight and was wide enough in places that sunlight and cool breezes could reach the ground.

As soon as they went into the wood Thorin could feel the trees pressing in on both sides, absorbing most of the remaining light. He always felt as if he was being watched in Mirkwood, the old forest made him uneasy. They had not gone more than a mile when they heard noises ahead, men shouting, horses snorting, creaking wood, the crack of whips. It sounded like Men were trying to get wagons moving. Kaylea guided her horse off the road into the trees, Thorin felt his skin crawling as soon as they left the road, but his wife always seemed to know where she was going. They came to a little open grove of smaller trees and left the horses, following the wolves toward the noise ahead. As they came up on the road Thorin saw it dipped down to a creek crossing where three wagons were stopped. Kaylea pulled her hood over her golden hair, staying low and keeping to the shadows they crept cautiously forward.

The men were Southrons, dressed in the traditional garb of that race, shouting at each other in their singsong language. The first wagon looked to have made it partway across the stream and become wedged, holding up the other two. The stream was either deeper than it looked or the wheels were in a hole, the water lapped against the wagon bed. Each wagon was drawn by mules and crowded with heavy steel cages full of animals. Wolves, bears, eagles, even wolverines. Thorin could see wolf pups in separate cages from the adults, some looked barely weaned. The Men were lashing the mules, trying to move the stuck wagon. The animals were straining at the traces, several Men were in the stream pushing but they could not shift it. He glanced over at Kaylea to see her face had gone hard; you did not want to be in front of her when she looked like that.

“I count ten,” she said quietly. “Five for each.”

Thorin nodded. He unslung his bow and aimed for one of the Southrons lighting some torches near the last wagon. As he let the arrow fly he heard a huge splash. The men had pushed one of the bear cages off the stuck wagon to lighten the load. The cage landed at an angle, the trapped animals struggling to keep their heads above water. Now the men were moving one of the wolf cages to throw it off, the next cage behind it was full of puppies. Before Thorin or Kaylea could react their wolves were in motion, gray and white fury streaking toward the wagon, leaping to attack the two astonished Southrons.

Kaylea vaulted onto the road to follow them, drawing her sword. “So much for the element of surprise.”

Thorin took out a second man with an arrow, then ran after his wife. Kaylea had two of the Southrons down before they could even get their weapons out. Thorin ducked under a mace, then swung his sword to take the man’s head off, the next one was more skilled, he had to parry a few strikes before running the man through. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vuko go flying off the wagon and looked up to see one of the men had jumped up to defend his fellow and struck her a savage blow with his mace. The man shoved the wolf cage to send it into the stream and it started to tip, then slowly righted itself. Thorin blinked, it should have fallen, but something had stayed it. He looked around for his wolf and saw her standing out in the stream, shaking her head. Just then a huge white bear broke out of the woods. Roaring, she ran between the wagons trampling the last Southrons, rending them with her claws and throwing them far into the forest. At the same time a large owl hit the man who had struck Vuko in the face with his talons, knocking him off the wagon where Kaylea finished him with a sword stroke. The white bear then turned and quickly clamped her jaws on the cage in the stream, straining to drag it out of the water. Another large brown bear hurried out of the woods to help. Kaylea went to the other side of the cage, helping the bears move it to the far bank while Thorin went to Vuko. She seemed stunned but her armor had taken most of the blow, she licked Thorin’s face as he bent to check on her. Together they waded to the streambank.  

As Kaylea waded out of the stream, she turned and grinned at her husband. “Told you it would be fun,” she said, dripping with water and blood.

Before Thorin could respond he saw Ajax and Vuko both prick their ears and followed their gaze to see a tall, brown-robed figure standing in the road leaning on a wooden staff. Even in the dark Thorin would have recognized him, the narrow-brimmed felt hat with a sprig of oak tucked in the band, the close-trimmed brown beard streaked with grey, the array of pouches and tools hanging from his belt. He was speaking softly to the mules in some musical language, the brown owl on his shoulder swiveling its head from side to side.

Kaylea was laughing. “Radagast the Brown. What a surprise to find you here! I am sorry if we ruined your ambush.”

The wizard waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, my dear. You have nothing to apologize for. You gave those heathens a quicker death than Oso would have.” He spoke to the mules and they walked forward, the wagon wheels suddenly turning freely; all three were soon across the creek. “But I could use a little help with these cages, if you don’t mind,” the wizard said. He walked around to the back of the wagon where the cage of wolves was still teetering. He put a hand on it and it slid back, then he nodded towards the caged bears beside Kaylea. “Ah, those first!”

Kaylea moved around to work the lock on the cage, making sure to stand behind the door as she opened it. The two wet bears clambered out, sniffing at the other bears gratefully. Radagast came over and laid a hand on each of their heads, the bears were still for a moment then turned and disappeared into the forest. Thorin jumped up on the wagon, he and Kaylea began to unload the animals. As they placed each cage on the ground Radagast spoke softly to the animals inside, carefully looked each of them over and treated their wounds with the astonishing array of herbs and ointments he was carrying in his pouches. The animals each bowed in their own way to the wizard before heading off in different directions. The process took more than an hour, Thorin found torches on the wagons and got them lit so the wizard could work. The last cages to be opened were the wolves and puppies, the younger ones went immediately to the adults, but two groups of older puppies hung back uncertainly.

“Why do they not join the others?” Thorin asked, puzzled.

“Their parents are here,” Radagast said gravely, laying his hand on the stack of wolf pelts on the second wagon. “Those will not accept them.”

“Can you not persuade them?” Kaylea asked. “They look too young to be on their own.”

Radagast shook his head. “The society of wolves had many rules. They will never take in the young from another pack, they view it as aiding their rivals. It is not my place to ask.” He looked over at Ajax and Vuko, standing together by the stream. “Maybe those two will.”

Thorin’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! I am not taking…” he counted quickly. “Ten wolves to Erebor!”

The wizard’s green eyes laughed in the torchlight. “Why not? Your mountain has plenty of game, and once your wolves have taught them to hunt they can form their own pack in the northern Misty Mountains.”

“Except for the one your daughter is going to keep,” Kaylea smiled. “Of course, she might try to keep them all.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “They are not coming with us!” But before he could protest further the pups trotted over to the Dorsai wolves, wagging their tails and licking at the noses of the tall adults.

“Well, that is decided then!” Radagast exclaimed, clapping his hands. All the cages were emptied and reloaded, the mules standing quietly in their harnesses. The big white bear reappeared out of the trees and Thorin realized all the bodies of the Southrons were gone. He looked at Radagast again, thinking the Brown wizard was never what he expected. He seemed younger and had a sense of physical strength that Gandalf lacked, and while Gandalf always seemed intent on being in the middle of every story, Radagast quietly went about his work. He realized suddenly what he had taken to be a pouch on the wizard’s belt was actually a bat when it fluttered its wings.

“What will you do with these wagons?” Thorin asked, eyeing the bat dubiously.  

“I will take them to Esgaroth. I know a man who can give these fine animals some honest work and these cages will make a sturdy fence.” The wizard climbed into the wagon seat and took up the reins. “Thank you again for your help,” he said as the mules started forward. “Take good care of those wolves, or you will have to answer to me!”

Thorin looked at the group of wolves. Ajax was giving Kaylea a sheepish look, but Vuko was wagging her tail and licking the puppies. Kaylea laughed and stepped over to put her arm around her husband.

“I think you said you wanted more children,” she teased.

“No, I certainly did not,” Thorin leaned over to kiss her neck. “Three was more than enough trouble.” He gave Vuko a stern look. “These are your responsibility, Miss Wolf. You keep them out of the city, on the far side of the mountain.”

Vuko blinked at him and led the pups across the stream, Ajax followed, carefully herding the swimming youngsters.

“Time to get back to camp and build up that fire,” Thorin said. The night was wearing on, he was wet to the waist and the forest was cool under the trees. “Wash up and get warm.”

“I can warm you up faster in our bedroll, husband,” Kaylea said slyly, taking his hand as they made their way back towards the horses.

Thorin chuckled, pulling her close to kiss her. “Now, that is a definition of fun I can understand!” He reached up to brush a loose lock of hair away from her face. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

She smiled at him. “Not lately. Maybe you can show me.”

Read the adventures of The Warrior and The King on AO3 & FanFiction, links on my homepage. 

@sdavid09​ @soradragon​ @fizzyxcustard​

[archonssun]

Don’t Take it to Heart

Chapter Eight

WC: 1346

“Eeny-meeny, miney-moe…”

“We’re catching cold…”

“So here we go!”

It was the banter that kept them on their toes in the freezing dungeon. Ever since they had arrived, Prompto and Noct were going at it with quips and puns, and on more than one occasion Pax found herself chuckling.

“How much farther?” the woman asked, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“Not too far,” Ignis replied. He looked back at her over his shoulder, then shed his jacket and handed it to the girl.

“Thanks, Iggy,” Pax smiled. Ignis smiled in return. A few months ago, had he smiled at her, Pax would have been in shock, but now? She was used to it. It was the others that couldn’t get used to it.

“I still think it’s weird that Iggy can actually smile,” Prompto muttered under his breath, looking at the siblings. As his eyes caught Pax’s, he quickly turned away, his face turning pink. Gods, was he nervous. Ever since Gladio had lifted her spirits, Pax had somewhat gone back to normal, but it all felt … forced. Like she wasn’t really feeling what she was projecting to the others.

The blond boy’s thoughts were interrupted when a group of flan appeared. Almost instantly, Noct jumped into the fray, followed closely by Pax. The girl summoned her weapon -- a pair of short swords. Their blades -- as thin as the ice prevalent all around the dungeon -- sliced through the daemons with ease, belying the countless hours Pax had practiced mastering them. When she moved, it was like watching a water sprite flit around. There was no wasted movement, no unnecessary steps as the woman struck down the daemons with ease.

“Who’s next?” Pax’s voice filtered through the chaos of battle as the last daemon fell, a wicked smile on her face. It was in stark contrast to the expression she had been wearing just moments earlier. However, Prompto was hard-pressed to say that this new expression was any better than the last. It had a sort of … primal energy to it that sent the boy’s hair to stand on end at just the mere sight of it.

A shiver raced down the blond’s spine as Pax took the lead, marching through the dungeon like she owned the place. Absently, he cast a glance back to Ignis, only to find that the man’s brows were furrowed in concern. His blue eyes shot back to the lone female, the fear of what she could do rising within.

What happened to you, Pax?

***

“Iggy, on your left!” Pax’s voice urged the older male to duck right as a Mindflayer reached for him. Then, using his daggers, Ignis cut up the daemon, ultimately killing it. As it disintegrated, Pax’s weapons disappeared as she approached the door to the Royal Tomb.

“This has got to be it,” she muttered, motioning to the black haired prince. Noctis walked forward, unlocking the door with the key Cor had given him before entering and taking the weapon into his armory. As soon as the sequence was finished, Pax stretched her arms over her head.

“Gods, that was a lot!” she groaned. Her elbows and wrists popped as they were stretched, eliciting a moan from the female. “That felt amazing!”

“Then why do you hold your weapons so tight?” Gladio scoffed. During the fights with the various hordes of daemons, he had noticed that the woman’s knuckles were white as she held her swords. Icy blue eyes turned to glare at the mountain of flesh.

“Why do you have to be a hardass?” she shot back. Gladio frowned at the woman -- well, more at her sass than anything. You’d think by now he’d be used to sass because of Noctis, but apparently not.

Seeing she had effectively shut up the Shield, Pax smirked, pushing past the Amicitia and heading towards the dungeon’s entrance.

“Hey, uh … Pax?” Prompto’s voice called after her, causing the woman to stop and turn to the other blond. Raising an eyebrow in question, she waited for Prompto to continue. “Are you … um … uh, never mind …”

As she glanced at the boy in concern, she shrugged, turning on her heel once more and walking through the dungeon once more.

***

“Your story came to a happy end,” Ignis’ voice broke the air of the Leville, and the young boy smiled almost as brightly as the blond boy himself. He basked in the praise of the royal retinue, not noticing when Pax slipped away from the group and hid in a corner. She couldn’t help it; it was a habit from over ten years of Crownsguard training, and old habits die hard. She listened in on the conversation between the guys and the young boy, all speaking in excited voices. A smile on her face, Pax’s eyes slipped shut, exhaustion threatening to take over. She was nearly overcome by the feeling when she heard Noct’s gasp.

Instantly, Pax was on high alert, racing silently across the room to stand at the prince’s side. Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, she searched Noct’s face as he held his head in his hands.

“Noct!” Prompto exclaimed, coming to stand on his friend’s other side.

“Your Highness,” Pax said. She tried her hardest to adopt a gentle tone to her voice as she spoke, knowing from experience with Nyx that loud noises could make the headaches worse. Her hand went from Noct’s shoulder to rubbing his back. As soon as the pain seemed to pass, Pax’s hand stopped rubbing the prince’s back, instead going to help the monarch straighten.

“Not again …” was the only thing Noct said, his hand retreating from his face.

“What’s the matter? You alright?” Iris’ concern showed through her voice as she bent to see the prince’s face.

“He’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Gladio was quick to wave off his sister’s worry. Turning to the group, Gladio said, “We oughta take a closer look as this so called “Disc”.”

“Then look no further than the outlook. We can use the viewer things!” At Prompto’s energetic reply -- coupled with the fact that he didn’t know what those ‘viewer things’ were actually called -- caused a snort of laughter to escape Pax’s throat. Almost immediately, the entire group turned to give her weird looks, which only caused her to start laughing fully.

“Oh, Gods!” she cried, crumbling to the floor. She held her stomach, the pain almost unbearable, as she curled in on herself on the floor. Her laugh echoed around the lobby, sending all present into shock -- specifically, the boys she had been travelling with. In all their time travelling with one another, they had never seen the woman laugh as hard as she was right now. What made it more weird was, just when they thought she had gotten a hold of herself, she would be thrown into another fit of laughter.

So there she laid -- curled into a ball on the floor, laughing her ass off -- for almost ten minutes before she managed to settle down enough to stand.

“Oh, man! Haven’t laughed like that in a while!” she smiled, wiping away the tears that sprung up in the corners of her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the boys, their glances not going unnoticed. “Why’re y’all looking at me like I’ve gone mad?”

“Sorry, um … we’ve just … you--” Prompto sputtered, his cheeks turning red as he scratched the back of his neck.

“We haven’t heard you laugh before, is what he’s trying to say,” Gladio said, a small smile playing at his lips. The others smiled in agreement, causing a frown to alight on Pax’s face.

“Well, there really hasn’t been much to laugh about lately, has there?” All at once, Pax’s happy mood was dashed, the frown on her lips creasing her forehead. She pushed past the group of guys, stalking out of the hotel and heading to the outlook.

As the guys watched her retreating figure, only one thought coursed through their minds:

Why did we say anything?

[traveller-lover-dreamer]

Daughter of the Sea, chapter 1

 Soooo, he’re the first chapter to Daughter of the Sea, like I promised. It’s long and it took me all day to write it oops haha I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as you did the prologue! As I said in my last post, the prologue will come later in the story!

Prologue

Pairing : Royalty!Tom Holland X Royalty!Reader

Words : 5862

Warnings: Mention of death, other than that I think we’re good

        Ever since you had been old enough to stand still for an entire day your father had asked you to attend to his audiences. Being the daughter of the Southerner king sounded cool until you found yourself stuck in an audience chamber, standing still in the hot and humid summer air, barely able to breathe because your corset was just a little too tight.

           You usually didn’t wear corsets. You had never liked them. Even though he knew that, your father forced you to wear one this morning, saying it was the ways of the Northerners and that you had no choice.

           The bird had come in late last night, announcing the arrival of the Northerner prince and his court. You were expecting them today around midday, but it was getting late in the afternoon and they still hadn’t arrived. You knew by the way your father was tensed on his throne that this was a bad thing. A really bad thing.

           The peace between the two kingdoms had always been fragile. The ways between the South and the North were just too different. According to your father, the Northerner were a serious people. They didn’t know how to have fun, they lived just to survive in the cold of their North. Your people was more frivolous. It helped to live in a region where the weather wasn’t trying to kill you each time you stepped outside.

           The capital of the South was situated on the coast of the Emerald Sea. Most of the kingdom consisted of isles in the sea but you had never been to them. As your father said, “a woman on a ship means a shipwreck in a week”. So you stayed on the continent in Azkapoor, the city of a thousand lights. The most beautiful city in the world according to your dad. It truly was beautiful. Everything was covered in rare precious stones. Every building had its own colour depending on where you were in the city. The rich had rubies and topazes on top of a gold coating, the poorest district had only quartz of a hundred different colours. The military district was covered in sapphires and emeralds and the castle was made of diamonds and all the other precious stones, nested in walls of glass or rocks coated in gold. When the sun was shining and it was most of the time, the city literally glimmered from a thousand lights. It was beautiful.

         Your father said the capital of the North was boring compared to Azkapoor. It was nestled in a valley between the Black Mountains and it was made of stones and marble. Nothing impressive compared to Azkapoor.

         It helped that Azkapoor was the richest city in the world. Not only because of your father but because a lot of merchants lived here. And with them came their fortune.

         There was the sound of a trumpet outside of the audience chamber and then the marshal entered the room, with a group of around thirty people behind him.

“The prince of the North, Thomas Stanley Holland, and his court”, the marshal announced as a young man started walking down the aisle toward the throne.

       You were currently standing on your father’s left, two feet behind the throne and you felt your blood stopping in your veins. Yes, your father had been the one to invite the Northerners to the tourney, but this young man was acting in a provocative way as he didn’t wait for her father to tell him to come to the throne. You held your breath as you noticed your father’s knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists.

        The young man stopped in front of the throne and smiled his brightest smile as all of his court bowed to show their respects to your father. The prince looked at them before sighing deeply and bowing.

“You can rise”, your father said in his coldest tone.

“It’s an honour to be here, your Grace”, the prince said with a velvety voice.

           His eyes went to you and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. He was handsome. Definitely one of the most handsome men you had seen in your life. His curly hair was dishevelled a bit, probably because of the wind outside, but it suited him well. His brown eyes were gorgeous as they shone when he smiled at you.

“I don’t recall my father mentioning you had such a lovely daughter”, he said as his eyes went back to your father.

“Show some respect”, Lord Blackfyre, your father’s right hand, hissed.

           The prince raised his hands.

“I meant no offence”, he replied. “I only speak the truth.”

“Enough”, your father intervened as you noticed Lord Blackfyre putting his hand on the pommel of his sword.

           During the entire interaction your eyes had been riveted on the prince’s eyes. The fact he thought you were lovely had made your heart go crazy and your cheeks turn red. You looked away when his gaze went back to you, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“My daughter is not yours to contemplate, Prince Thomas”, your father declared with a stern voice.

“Then why dress her like a Northerner?” the prince asked, his smile only growing wider.

“To show some respect you clearly are lacking”, your father answered.

“Why are we so serious, aren’t we here for a tourney?” the prince said, changing the subject.

           Good move. You knew by the way your father was tensed that the prince was risking his life by talking about you this way.

“The tourney begins tomorrow at dawn”, your father declared. “May the best knight in the Two Kingdoms win. Don’t miss the feast tonight.”

           Your father dismissed the audience and the Northerners left first, followed soon by your father’s own court.

“That kid is playing a dangerous game”, Lord Blackfyre said once everybody had left the room.

“If he says another word like that I’m cutting his tongue”, your father declared.

“It didn’t offend me, my King, nothing to be worried about”, you jumped in, regretting it immediately when your father turned to look at you, a dark look in his eyes.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion”, he said. “Did you forget who killed your brother?”

           You lowered your gaze to the ground, afraid your father was going to hit you for your insolence. You wanted to tell him you didn’t forget it, it was always there in the back of your mind, but you didn’t say a word.

          Ever since your brother’s death, your father had hated you with all his heart. Before that, he treated you well, even though he wasn’t necessarily loving. He had a son, he had no reason to despise the one that took his wife away. About that, your mother had died the day she had given birth to you. Your father never loved you because of that. It meant he couldn’t have other sons that could go on and take care of his kingdom when he would die.

          Now that his only heir was gone, your father hated you. He kept saying you were going to be the end of his kingdom because a woman couldn’t rule it.

           Your brother had died at the Battle of the West Gate, the same battle that had put an end to the War of the Two Kings. Your father had lost the battle and he had been forced by the Northerner King to make peace. They had signed a treaty saying both of the kingdoms were going to cohabit in peace from now on and that they were going to form an alliance. The Northerner King didn’t ask your father for anything, even though your father had been the one who had tried to invade the North. He only took Lord Blackfyre’s son as a hostage and in return your father had taken the king’s squire as a hostage. His name was Harrison Osterfield and you had grown up by his side, even though he was a couple years older than you. You hated to admit it but he had taken your brother’s place in your life.

“Let’s not let this get between us while the Northerners are here”, your father said. “They need to think that we are united.”

           You looked up from the ground, wondering if you had heard your father right.

“I don’t want those barbarians to think we are weak”, he continued. “We may have lost the war but we sure aren’t going to lose the tourney.”

           Your father’s pride had been deeply hurt when he had lost the war. You knew this tourney wasn’t about having fun, it was about showing to the Northerners he was stronger than them and that he could crush them if he wanted. You also knew that this was what your father wanted. He wanted to take revenge on them.

           You wondered if it was a mistake for the Northerners’ king to have sent his own son here. To your father’s eyes, there was no better revenge than to kill his enemy’s son, to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

“Y/N, go to your evening class with Master Emond”, your father ordered.

           You nodded your head, bowing slightly before leaving. One of your father’s guards followed you as you made your way up to the Southwest Tower. You couldn’t breathe correctly thanks to your corset, so you took your time climbing the stairs.

           When you got at the top, you joined Master Emond on the balcony where you usually took your classes. The guard stayed at the door to make sure no one was going to intrude on your lesson.

“Sit”, ordered old Master Emond as he was watching the city. “See the dust in the west?”

           You looked in the direction he pointed, squinting until you saw what seemed like a dust cloud.

“I think so”, you answered.

“It was caused by the passing of the Northerners”, he explained. “More precisely because of their horses.”

“Oh”, you said.

“Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about today.” The master grabbed a heavy book on the table to his left and gave it to you.

“The geography of the Two Kingdoms”, you read the title.

“We’re having a geography lesson today”, the master said.

You opened the book carefully, your fingertips grazing the maps that laid in front of your eyes.

“Where are we right now?” asked the master.

“Azkapoor”, you answered. “The capital of the South.”

“And what is the capital of the North?” Master Emond enquired.

           You hesitated as you searched through the book. You only knew it was nestled between some mountains, you had no idea how it was called. You found a map of the North and eventually your eyes rested upon the capital of the North.

“Londir”, you answered. “It’s between the Black Mountains.”

           The master nodded his head.

“Now, what lies between the North and the South?”

           You knew this answer all too well. You had heard a dozen of stories about that sea. The Mermaid Sea. Few were the sailors that dared sail its waters and fewer where the men that came back.

“The Mermaid Sea”, you said.

“Do you know where the Mermaid Sea’s name come from?”

           You shook your head.

“Legend says that in its depths lie a city greater than anything you had ever seen”, the master began. “It supposed to be more beautiful than Azkapoor. In this city lives a people. The mermaids. Half fish half human, those mermaids feast on man’s flesh. They have tamed a species of sea serpents and those serpents attack ships to sink them so the mermaids can feast on their crew.”

           A cold shiver went down your spine. It was just a legend but you had heard once that all legends come from a truth. The thought that there was something true in this story was scary.

“That is the reason why our people don’t sail its waters anyways”, said Master Emond. “We go on foot if we want to go north. Where do we need to pass if we want to get there?”

“By the West Gate”, you answered. Where my brother died.

“That is correct”, declared Master Emond.

           The geography lesson went like this until the sun set. When it did, Master Emond ended the lesson. You left him on the balcony. When you got out of his quarters, the guard that had waited for you followed you down the stairs. You walked to your own quarters in the western wing of the castle. Your father’s man stayed outside of your quarters, keeping guard in front of the door.

           You rang a bell, calling your servant to help you get out of your dress to get ready for the feast tonight. Namila arrived a moment later with a gown in her hands.

“Hi, my lady”, she said, bowing.

“Namila, you don’t have to bow for me, I told you a thousand times”, you laughed.

“Of course, sorry.” She smiled. “Your father has suggested that, and I quote him, ‘my daughter shouldn’t wear Northerners garment tonight or I’ll kill the boy.’ So I brought you this new dress.”

           She put it on your bed and your breath got caught up in your throat. It was a Southerner’s dress, which meant there wasn’t any corset (thank the gods) but instead a low V-neck. The dress was made of green silk and the silhouette of flowers was embroidered into it with a gold thread. It was soft to the touch and clearly not as hot as the one you were dressed with right now.

“Help me to get out of that corset”, you asked to Namila. “I’ll have to take a bath too, I sweated so much in that gown today.”

           Namila laughed. “Of course, my lady.” She started to unlace your gown and for the first time in hours you were able to take a deep breath.

“Thank gods”, you whispered underneath your breath.

“Your bath is already ready”, Namila told you. “I got it ready while you were still with Master Emond.”

           You liked your bath not too hot and Namila knew that. You walked to your bathroom and climbed down the stairs leading to the refreshing water. Your bath looked more like a small pool and you swam to your balcony overlooking the Emerald Sea. The moon was rising above the water, casting a silver glow on the waves.

           Namila had put some essential oils in the water and it smelled incredibly good.

“Do you need help to wash your hair, my lady?” asked the girl.

           You turned around and swam back to the staircase that led to the water.

“Yes, please”, you replied.

           You sat in the stairs as she started to wash your hair.

“Remember when we were little girls and you swam with me in my bath instead of helping me clean up?” you asked.

“Yes, I do”, she chuckled. “Your father was so mad when he found out about that.”

           You laughed at the memory of it. Namila was the closest thing to a friend you had had in your life. Well, she did was a friend. She and Harrison were practically your only friends. You had never liked the other noble girls, they all were jealous of you because you were a princess. Yes, being a princess was nice, but you didn’t like it that much. It was a complicated life.

“I’ve heard that the Northerner Prince said you looked good”, Namila said when she finished washing your hair.

“How did you hear this?” you asked, blushing.

“My friend Gina is seeing one of the guards and he told her”, she explained.

           That reminded you of how different your lives were. To see someone was so normal for people of her class. As a princess, you had never had the chance to see someone. You had never kissed a boy and of course you were still a maiden. You had to be a maiden for your father to be able to marry you. Last time he had talked to you about wedding, he had told you he had promised you to the prince of one of the isles he had conquered. You didn’t know when and you just hoped it wasn’t going to be soon. The perspective of getting married scared you more than anything. And you knew you would never be able to marry for love, you were just a pawn in your father’s chest game.

“What do you think of the prince?” Namila asked.

           For a moment you were confused. Had she heard your thoughts? You then remembered what you had been talking about a moment before.

“Thomas? He’s attractive, I guess”, you answered.

“Just attractive? He’s a prince, I’m sure he’s way more than attractive”, Namila said.

“I don’t know”, you laughed. “He’s a Northerner.”

“And? What does that change?” Namila asked.

           Again you were faced with how different your lives were. For you, the Northerners were the enemies. Well, to your father’s eyes they were. To yours, they were just… Northerners.

“His people killed my brother.”

“My lady, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you of this”, Namila apologized.

“It’s fine, Namila, don’t worry.”

           You got out of the bath and she gave you a towel to dry yourself. You walked back to your main room, Namila behind you. She helped you to get into your gown and then you sat in the chair in front of your tall mirror. She braided your hair in the Southerner’s way. Your hair were long and the fishtail braid was caressing the skin of your back. Because of course the dress was opened in the back, in the Southerner’s way.

“You’re ready, my lady”, Namila declared.

           You stood up, admiring the view in the mirror. The gown was truly beautiful, definitely one of your favourites up to date.

“There’s going to have a lot of dancing tonight”, you told her. “I wonder if the Northerners will dance.”

“Dance with the prince!” Namila yelled excitedly.

“Perhaps I will”, you laughed. “If he’s like Harrison, he won’t be a good dancer though.”

           Namila laughed. “I hope he’ll be better, you’d look good with a prince by your side.”

           It was your turn to laugh. Yeah, perhaps I would but I don’t think my father would appreciate that.

           You left Namila in your room, hugging her to thank her for everything. You walked to the feast room, the guard behind you and joined your place at your father’s right. Lord Blackfyre was sitting in front of you and the Northerner prince was sitting by his side. You blushed when the man looked at you, his eyes going down your frame, especially down your low V-neck. He refrained from saying anything but you saw in his eyes that he was devouring you.

           Harrison was sitting beside you. You wondered how he made it to the high table and you understood when Tom and he started talking. They were friends. That made sense, since Harrison was a Northerner.

           There was an orchestra on the balcony above your head and although the song they were playing was beautiful, the sound was loud and you barely heard a thing of the boy’s conversation. You looked around, noticing the rest of the Northerners were sitting in the back of the room. Where the low-born usually were. You hoped they didn’t take that as an offence. Maybe putting Harrison and Thomas at the high table was your father’s way to show the Northerners that he meant no offence.

           Your father got up from his seat and the talking in the room slowly stopped. When everyone was in silence, your father started his speech.

“Today, I am welcoming at our table old enemies”, he began. “Maybe they once were enemies, but today they are our friends. They are our brothers, our fathers, our sisters and our mothers. Let this tourney be a proof we are united under the same banner, the banner of the Two Kingdoms.”

           There was some shooting from some knights and your father silenced them with a move of his hand.

“Tomorrow at dawn, the bravest amongst you are going to joust. And the last one standing is going to be declared the winner of the first day. Tomorrow’s feast is going to be in his honour. The Bohort will take place the day after and the best archer will be celebrated. Last but not least, the melee will take place three days from now, and the winner will be declared the best knight in the two kingdoms.”

Your father paused as there was some cheering, both from the Northerners and your people.

“From water we came and to water we will all return one day”, your father continued. “May the feast begin!”

           Your father sat down as a hoard of servants walked in with plates of food in their hands. Soon enough the clatter of utensils on plates were heard as people were starting to eat. Most of the feast consisted of sea food. Well, most of your alimentation consisted of sea food, since Azkapoor was on the coast of the Emerald Sea.

           Throughout the meal, you noticed the Northerner prince didn’t eat that much. He probably wasn’t a fan of sea food. His face lit up when they brought what seemed like turkey to the high table. That he ate a lot of.

           Harrison suddenly nudged you in the ribs.

“Hey, I can’t believe I made it to the high table tonight”, he said.

“Yeah, it’s amazing! And not only did you make it to the high table but you’re also sitting next to the princess. Usually, my father’s counsellors sit here.”

“Even though your father doesn’t like us Northerners, he knows how to please us”, Harrison stated.

           It had been a while since he had said he was a Northerner. Somehow, this made your heart sink in your chest. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore now that his people were here.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, you lied.

           He furrowed his brows. He knew you were lying but he shrugged it off, turning around to talk to his prince.

           About the prince, he was wearing a typical Southerner attire. He was wearing a green tunic that somehow matched your gown. It was made of cotton, unlike your dress and it was glimmering underneath the light, letting you know a gold thread had been intricately sewn into it. The colour suited him well.

           The prince looked at you. You felt embarrassed that he had caught you staring and you looked away, hoping your cheeks hadn’t turned too red.

           Soon enough, the meal was over and the servants cleared a space in the middle of the room where people would be able to dance. You watched as some nobles started dancing and smiled. The ambiance in the room was great, it almost made you forget about the fact the Northerners were supposedly enemies.

“Do you want to dance?” Harrison asked.

           You nodded your head quickly. You got up and he took you by the hand, bringing you to the dancefloor. The music was exhilarating and you danced with Harrison for a moment before changing partner with a nobleman you didn’t remember the name of.

           You didn’t know this, but most of the men on the dancefloor were dying to dance with you. It was an honour for them to be able to say they danced with the princess. Unfortunately for them, you always went back to Harrison, even though the boy kept tripping on his feet. It made you laugh and that was what was important to you. To have fun. So you kept going on between Harrison and the nearer guys.

           Once, you found yourself in front of a Northerner. A knight, you thought even though you had no way of knowing. You recognised him by his sober attire. The Southerner clothing were more colourful and this man was only covered in maroon. It was stylish though, but different from what you were used to.

           Your eyes met your father’s eyes at the high table and disapproval was written all over his features. You looked away. He wasn’t going to stop you from having fun tonight.

           You went back to Harrison and as the song came to an end, you found yourself in the arms of none other than the Northerner prince. You wished to switch back to Harrison as fast as possible, but the song that came next was a slower song. You weren’t supposed to switch partner in this dance, it was more of a slow waltz.

“Guess you’re stuck with me”, the prince said, a smile in his voice, as he noticed how you had tried to switch partners again.

“Uh, yeah, I guess”, you blushed.

“I’m glad you decided to wear the dress I chose for you”, he added.

You raised your head to look at him. “What did you say?”

“I sent your servant to you with this dress, what did she tell you?” he asked.

“She told me my father sent it, not you”, you answered, feeling betrayed by Namila. “Why would you want me to wear this gown?”

“Matching outfits”, he explained as he made you spin around before catching you back in his grip.

           You were suddenly closer to him, one of his hands was on your hip, the other holding your hand, guiding you around the dancefloor and your heart stopped beating in your chest as your gaze got caught up in his.

“You’re even prettier up close”, he whispered.

“You look handsome too, my prince”, you replied, trying to remember your courtesy lessons you had had a couple of years ago.

           Under his stare it was difficult to remember anything. He made you turn around so your back was facing him. He put one hand on your hips, the other still in yours and you looked over your shoulder to him. His face was centimeters away from yours and a soft smile was on his pink lips. You wondered how it would feel to kiss him right there in the middle of the dancefloor. After all, he was a prince. He could be the one you were going to marry. Not that stranger from across the sea.

           You felt your father’s stare burning on you, but you couldn’t look away from the prince’s lips. He spun you around again and caught you so you were facing him now. Both of his hands were on your hips now, holding you close, pressing you to his body. You weren’t swaying to the music anymore, his lips were so close to yours…

           That’s when you freaked out. Legit freaked out. You got out of his grasp, shoving him away a bit too roughly and you walked away from the Grand Hall where the feast had been held. You felt hot and you needed air.

           You walked out in the fresh night air. You walked to the gardens, never stopping to see if someone was following you. There were guards at every entry to the gardens, you weren’t scared for your life.

           You knew the gardens alleys by heart and you made your way toward the weeping willow tree that was on the side of the cliff leading to the Emerald Sea. You stood next to it, watching the waves hitting the rocks below you.

“Aren’t you afraid you are going to fall?” asked a voice behind you.

Of course he had followed you.

“I’d be afraid if I were you”, the prince said.

           You turned around to see him standing there, a few meters behind you.

“Thomas…” was all you managed to get out.

“Ah, don’t call me Thomas, call me Tom”, he gently said. “I hate being called by my entire name, makes me feel like my mom is scolding me.”

           He chuckled and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

“Why did you run away?” he suddenly asked. “Did I scare you?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not, Tom, I just needed some air. It was pretty hot in the Hall.”

“Was it?” he asked a smirk on your lips.

           You didn’t understand why, but the way he was looking at you at the moment stopped you from thinking straight. All you could think of was his hands on your hips.

“Yeah, it was”, you replied. “We should head back in before my father sends his men to kill you.”

“Why don’t we stay out a little more?” he said. “We still hear the music from here, we could dance. And your father wouldn’t see us.”

“Tom, we can’t”, you refused. “You’re a Northerner, I’m a Southerner. My father is going to get you killed if you touch me.”

“Then I’d die a happy man”, he frankly said.

           You blushed as he took a step toward you.

“Why me?” you asked. “You could have anyone in that room without risking your life, why me?”

He smiled. “Because you are the prettiest of them all, my lady.”

           His voice was velvety, it felt as if it was coated in sugar. But it was the best thing ever. Nobody had ever dared talk to you like this, you had always been unapproachable because of your title. But here he was, talking to you like an equal, like if you weren’t a princess, like if you were just another girl. Or perhaps he was talking to you like you were a princess, but he was considering you as an equal. Which would make sense since he was a prince.

           You stopped your train of thoughts as he took another step towards you.

“Can I have another dance with you, my lady?” he asked softly.

          The realization that he considered you as an equal was enough to help you take a decision.

“Yes”, you accepted, holding out your hand for him to take.

           He took it gently and pulled you away from the cliff. You started to sway together, to the distant sound of the music in the hall, interrupted sometimes by the cry of a cricket or by the waves hitting the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

           The air smelled sweet, all the flowers in the gardens being the source of the smell, and a gentle breeze was caressing you both. The moon was the only light, but it was full and its glow was strong enough to cast your shadows on the ground. And in the sky laid a million stars, shining endlessly.

           It was weird. How you barely knew Tom and you were there, in his arms, swaying to a melody perhaps only your hearts were hearing. You had never believed in soul mates. You had never believed in love. The only thing that you believed in is that you all came from water and to water you all returned someday. It was a Southerner saying that came from a legend… but we shall explain that another time, shall we?

“It’s beautiful”, Tom said.

“What?” you asked in a whisper.

“Everything”, he replied. “The starts, the moon, the willow.” He paused for a moment, his gaze going to your face. “You.”

           His mouth was only a couple of centimeters away from yours and maybe the gods pushed you a little forward, maybe Aphrodite whispered to you, giving you her courage and boldness, but you closed the gap between your mouths.

           You had never kissed a boy and here you were kissing the first prince you had encountered in your life. Tom stiffened for a moment, before melting into your touch. He kissed you back ever so gently, his lips soft against yours. It was like coming home after a long time away. It was like being born again, it was like the singing of birds in the morning, it was like the breeze during a hot summer afternoon, like the rain after a long drought.

           For the first time in your life, you felt right where you belonged. And you could tell by the way he was kissing you back that the feeling was reciprocated.

           When you pulled apart, after what seemed like a sweet eternity, you opened your eyes to meet Tom’s gaze.

“What was that for?” he asked, his smile spreading into a soft smile.

“I don’t know”, you answered.

           He laughed gently before kissing you again. You let your hands wander up his chest, one finally finding its place on the back of his neck, the other resting flat on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat underneath it. It beat rapidly, much like yours did.

“Princess, Tom, I don’t want to step on your moment, but the king is looking for you everywhere”, a voice said.

           You felt extremely embarrassed for a moment and you got out of Tom’s embrace. It was Harrison.

“Of course he is”, you mumbled.

“Is it really a good idea for me to walk back in there?” Tom asked, a small laugh falling from his lips. “I don’t want to die today.”

          Harrison laughed too, but you didn’t feel like laughing. What was your father going to say?

         You walked back to the hall, Harrison and Tom behind you. Your father seemed to be fuming. You enjoyed the view for a moment before he saw you. If looks could have killed, you would have died instantly.

        You walked to the high table. Harrison followed you, but Tom instead walked to the Northerners’ table. You eventually sat back in your place beside your father and he just looked at you for a moment, disapproval in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he enquired in an icy tone.

“I needed some fresh air”, you answered.

“I don’t want to see you around that Northerner again, is that clear?”

“My King, father, aren’t we supposed to treat the Northerners as friends tonight?” you challenged him.

           Your father seemed impressed by your reply. You had never ever questioned his orders before and instead of infuriating him more, he found himself proud of you. He would never admit that to you, but he was impressed. Finally, you were standing up to him. Finally, you showed some qualities he wanted in the heir to his throne.

“That didn’t mean you could run out in the night with him”, he declared. “You are promised to the prince of the Golden Islands, remember that next time you feel like running out in the night with a barbarian.”

           That’s it? Your father wasn’t going to punish you? You were genuinely surprised and you turned to look at Harrison, who had the same look plastered on his face. You turned back to your father. Had he gone crazy? He ignored your gaze and you figured it was your cue to leave.

“May I return to my chambers?” you asked.

“Go”, your father simply answered.

           He didn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly got up and walked out of the Grand Hall. You noticed Tom wasn’t there anymore either and you wondered where he had gone.

           As you made your way to your chambers, you couldn’t help but to remember the feeling of Tom’s hands on your hips and the feeling of his lips on yours. Namila won’t believe me.

Chapter two here!!

Taglist : (message me if you want to be on or off the taglist for this) 

@the-quackson-claxon, @theblxefox, @iron-spiderr, @starksparker, @thewiseandfree, @h-osterfield, @peachesholland, @peachyhollands, @tomhllvnds, @tomnhaznsamnharry, @indiancollegegirl, @tbhollandd, @spiderlingss, @spidey-loving-starkid, @one-curly-spider-boi, @spider-mendes, @lilyholland, @savethebabyseals

[azvolrien]

Anchored Tempest - Chapter One

New story time! This is one that I’ve been thinking about for a while, so I’m pretty excited to start getting it out of my brain and into the word processor. The title will make more sense with later instalments.

Part One: In which Una and Star are given a job to do.

~~~

           Dear Mam and Tad,

           I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter; a lot’s been going on here, and between everything I’ve had to do I’ve hardly had time to sit down and write.

           First, six more of the eggs hatched! That brings the dragon population up to fifty-three, and the little ones are a handful; even with human helpers, their fathers (Red Clouds, Grim, Long Reeds, Falcon, Shiver and Echo Song) are kept busy looking after them. Baby dragons, it turns out, can and will get into everything if you don’t keep an eye on them. They don’t have proper names yet; Star tells me that that’s something that sort of develops by itself, and the babies aren’t old enough to tell anyone yet. She and I aren’t directly involved in the childcare, but we’ve been roped in to gathering food for them and herding the karnax closer to the village.

           Which brings me to the second big event to write about: after much, much, much discussion in the council eyrie, talking round and round in circles and bringing up examples and records from centuries back, the Balaurin have come to an important decision:

           Journey’s End is to be evacuated. No, that’s the wrong word, makes it sound like there’s something to escape. Abandoned.  

           Big step, isn’t it? Especially with new hatchlings. But after the altercation (‘battle’ feels like giving them too much credit) with the Sea People in Stormhaven, it was pretty obvious that the Balaurin’s continued existence wasn’t a secret any more, and they could either rejoin the rest of the world on their own terms or wait for it to come to them whether they were ready or not. A couple of emissaries from the Empire – with a whole train of guides and porters, needless to say – have already made the trek up here. The Balaurin won’t be joining up as a province or client state of the Empire, but the Emperor’s not stupid and wants to stay friendly with a force that can reduce a Sea People armada to ashes in minutes, however small the population is.

          All of the dragonbound pairs and a few of the riderless dragons have been out scouting for a new base, somewhere less isolated. Reclaiming the old capital – Eyrie Spire, that is – was ruled out, as it’s too big and nobody’s keen on living that close to Devourer’s Fall, but there are loads of abandoned Balaurin installations all along the mountains, and after checking over what feels like a hundred different possibilities, it’s been decided to move everyone to a site at the western end of the range, far enough east of the Sea Loch Country not to worry the Imperial authorities in Duncraig but close enough to make trading and travelling much, much easier; Shoreen and the other councillors have already put out some feelers with those emissaries about rebuilding some of the old trade routes from the days of the Balaurin Empire. Getting the new place liveable again after however many years it’s been left to the wind will be a lot of work, but once we’re all settled there I hope Star and I can visit you at home much more often.

           I hope everyone in Stormhaven is doing well too. Say hi to Calburn, Rhona, Ari, Alwen and everyone else for me; with any luck we’ll at least be able to make it down for the Midwinter festivities, even if we can’t stay for long.

           Lots of love,

           Una (and Star!)

           Una put the pen back in its stand and waited for the ink to dry, before folding the letter and sealing it into an envelope. Bright Star in the High Cold Dark glanced up from where she curled in her nest, made a soft krooo-ing sound, and returned her attention to her nap. Star loved her rider dearly, but even with their deep empathic bond did not fully understand the point of such things as ‘writing letters’. Una picked up the letter and left their eyrie.

           Between caring for the new hatchlings and preparing for the move to the new village to the west, Journey’s End was far busier than usual. Dragons waited in harness as humans loaded supplies and other belongings into nets and panniers; carpenters carefully dismantled furniture and packed it away, ready to be reassembled in their new home. Echo Song herded his new daughter back into the nursery eyrie, where Falcon and Red Clouds brooded over the other new hatchlings with the help of the human assistants; father dragons, it seemed, were very big on cooperative child-rearing. Below the great stone half-bowl of the village, a vast herd of the giant goat-like beasts known as karnax waited rather nervously as their herders mixed a sleeping potion in a large cauldron; the plan was to sedate the karnax and carry them in dragon-harnesses rather than herd them through the mountains on the ground, at constant risk from bears, snow leopards and other predators.

           Una nodded to one of the carpenters – everything she and Star had that couldn’t be left behind was already packed – and climbed the steps to the eyrie of Star’s father. Jarak, Shoreen’s husband and another dragonbound, glanced up from painstakingly stacking books into a carrying case.

           “Afternoon, Una,” he said, looking back at the cover of a particularly ancient-looking tome, its karnax-leather cover worn and the edges of its pages flaking. “Need something?”

           “Is Ripper here? I was going to ask if he could do a letter drop for me.” Una waved the envelope by means of explanation. Yawning Chasm Ripped in the Fabric of the Sky was the biggest and oldest of the male dragons, and had the power to open portals of almost any size over hundreds of miles.

           “He’s out hunting, but I’ll have him send it for you when he gets back,” said Jarak, taking the letter. “You want it sent to the Stormhaven drop point, I take it?”

           “Yes, it’s for my parents.”

           “It should be easier for you to visit them from the new village.”

           “I know, I’ve said that in the letter.” Una paused. “There was one thing I didn’t tell them…”

           Jarak raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

           “Welllll…” Una rolled up her sleeves and held out her arms. “Should I be worried about these?”

           “Ah.” Jarak leant forwards to inspect the hard, coin-sized, blue-grey scales that had formed along the outsides of Una’s forearms, from the backs of her wrists almost to her elbows. The colour made an odd contrast to her otherwise brown skin and red hair. “No. No, you shouldn’t be worried about those. You’ve been bonded with Star for… how long, now?”

           “Two and a half years, almost.”

           “It’s quite normal for a dragonbound. The draconic blood-bond has a few… physical side-effects on the human partner that show up after the first couple of years. Nothing too extreme – you won’t be sprouting wings or a tail – but… yes, a few scales is the usual effect, maybe a slight sharpening of the teeth. They shouldn’t extend much further than they have now; maybe as far as your shoulders eventually, but no further than that.”

           Una let out a breath of relief. “Good. I was starting to wonder if it was some weird interaction between the dragon blood and my Falkari blood.”

           “Oh, of course, I’d forgotten you’re a shapeshifter. No, it’s purely a dragon blood thing. You’re quite lucky in their placement, actually – some riders get them in much more uncomfortable spots.” Jarak wrapped the ancient book in a cloth and packed it into the case. “Shoreen was looking for you, by the way – she wants you and Star both to meet her in Fury’s eyrie.”          

           “Now?”

           “As soon as possible.”

           “Huh. I’d better go see what she wants.”

           Star was none too pleased to cut her nap short, but she met Una as requested with a minimum of complaining. Harsh Fury of the Northern Gale rumbled a greeting as the young dragonbound pair reached the eyrie, Una breathless from the long flight of stairs and Star flying easily in through the wide entrance hole.

           “Good, you’re both here,” said Shoreen from her desk.

           Star wanted to know what was so important that it couldn’t wait until after her nap. Una relayed the request, a little more politely.

           “I have… a task in mind for the pair of you,” said Shoreen. Una gestured for her to continue. Shoreen leant on her desk, linking her fingers over her mouth. “I want you to understand, this isn’t an order. It could be dangerous, and you’re free to refuse.”

           Star gave a little get-on-with-it growl. Fury gave her a sharp look and she subsided into a more respectful silence.

           “Most likely, it’ll just be a few weeks of exploring,” said Shoreen. “But there’s a chance that it could develop into something more serious. I know everyone is happy about the new hatchlings, as they should be… but the sad fact of the matter is, even with the long lifespans of dragons and how careful we are with recording who mated with who, fifty-three dragons isn’t much of a breeding pool.”

           “No, it isn’t,” said Una quietly. Star nudged her muzzle under Una’s arm; she wouldn’t be old enough to breed for another decade.

           “I’ve been poring over all our records, going back about as far as we have records, and I’ve found something that… well, I wouldn’t say it’s solid enough to even call a hope, but it could be interesting.” Shoreen pointed at one of the crates stacked beside her desk, waiting for someone to carry them to the new settlement. “About thirteen hundred years ago, there was a schism among the Balaurin.”

           “A schism?”

           “A… division between two factions.”

           “I-I know what a schism is, I meant – just go on.”

           “Indeed.” Shoreen laid her hands flat on the desk. “It was similar, in fact, to the arguments that arose following the fall of our empire, after the Devourer – one faction wishing to remain in the mountains and the other, smaller faction pushing to invade and rule the rest of the continent to the south. Fortunately events didn’t develop into a full-blown civil war; what happened was the smaller faction – some three thousand dragons and their riders – left for the south. And at that point, they disappear from our records; nor do they show up in any from the Kiraani Empire or from the lands east of the Inland Sea. It’s as if they just dropped out of history.”

           “You want us to go and look for them,” said Una. “You can’t find any sign of them with the scrying pool? I thought you could check the whole continent with that.”

           “Well, that’s where things get a little interesting,” said Shoreen, and unrolled a map of Stranatir on her desk. “This is us, here at Journey’s End,” she said, laying a finger on the paper. “This is the new settlement – we’ve got to come up with a proper name for it – to the west. South of the mountains: Stormhaven, Kiraan, Huaxia, et cetera. I have been looking in the scrying pool, studying anywhere a dragon might be hiding. The thing is… when I try to scry here…” She ran the same finger down the east coast of the continent, from the southern end of the Inland Sea almost to the equator. “These mountains-”

           “The Eastern Highlands,” said Una.

           “Yes, those, and the archipelago immediately east of them – they call them the Chain of Fire. When I try to focus the scrying pool on them, all I can see is mist. There is something along the eastern coast, from the mountains to the islands, that completely hides it from Balaurin scrying. And as far as I’m aware, only Balaurin magic could do that.”

           Una gave a low whistle. “Three thousand dragons would be quite a help in the breeding programme.”

           “Indeed.”

           “I’ve never heard of anyone living there,” said Una. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone there, but when I was at school they taught us that there aren’t any trading links through the Eastern Highlands, or with the Chain of Fire.”

           Shoreen shook her head. “No. The Sunrise Islanders do sail south along the coast to trade in Mwituni, but they don’t land in the Chain itself. Rough seas, difficult reefs… and legends of ‘hairy giants’ living there.”

           “Probably gorillas,” said Una.

           “Probably,” said Shoreen. “Now, I can’t be certain that there are Balaurin living in those mountains. Maybe they left Stranatir altogether and took their chances across the Wild Ocean. But…” She let her head drop into her hands. “Surely it has to be worth looking.”

           Star thought it sounded like a grand adventure. Una smiled and scratched the top of her muzzle. “It does sound like it’s worth checking out,” she said. “But… why Star and me? Wouldn’t one of the more experienced pairs be better? Snowy and Runo, or Dark Sky and Varan?”

           Shoreen was silent for a few seconds, biting her lip. “You see,” she said, “going by the records, those original Balaurin exiles… they weren’t very nice people. They were led by a truly vicious dragon with an incredibly destructive power; he could summon earthquakes and make volcanoes erupt, and apparently his rider did nothing to try and rein him in – if anything, he just egged him on. If there are people there, not just gorillas, and that was what their first impression of dragons was like… they probably don’t look at them with fondness. Star is younger and smaller – she’ll be much less intimidating to any nervous locals you might run into.”

           Star took exception to that and arched her back, wriggling until her spines rattled, showing just how intimidating she could be. Fury just snorted, unimpressed; Star was little bigger than her head.

           “Especially compared to Dark Sky,” said Shoreen with a grin. “I know she’s about as sweet-natured as dragons come, but you have to admit she looks pretty nightmarish.”

           Star subsided, admitting that this was indeed the case.

           “I suppose we’d better nick some supplies for a long trip,” said Una. “Out of curiosity, did those records you found include the names of any of the exiled dragons? Well, self-exiled.”

           “Oh, they’ll all be written down somewhere,” said Shoreen, “but the document I was working from just listed the main leaders of their faction. Let’s see, I did have a note somewhere. Here – the primary dragons of the expansionist Balaurin. Storm Clouds Roiling over the Deepest Green Abyss. Shattering Rage that Breaks the White Ice. Shifting Blaze Coursing in the Heavens. Great Flood of Swift Black Waters.”

           “Well, they sound like a friendly bunch,” said Una.

           “They do, don’t they?” said Shoreen, grinning again.

           “Which of those was the volcano dragon?”

           “I didn’t get to him.” Shoreen glanced back at her notes. “He actually had a less ostentatious name. Funny how that happens sometimes.”

           Una nodded. “Some people just don’t like to advertise, I suppose. So, volcano dragon?”

           “Oh, they just called him ‘Voice of the Mountain’.”

~~~

Some historical dragonbound eventually grew horns, but this isn’t something that happens to everyone and never before the blood-bond has been in place for at least four decades. Nevertheless, Balaurin armourers have had to get good at adapting flying helmets.

[blightarts]

POKÉMON SUMMER VERSION SHORT STORIES STORY 2: COURAGE

Pairings: Quinn x M!MC, Jake x F!MC

MC Names: Tyler (M!MC), Taylor (F!MC)

Summary: Jake returns into the depths of Mt. Atropo and visits an old friend

Disclaimer:  Pokémon is a property of Game Freak and Nintendo, while Endless  Summer is a property of Pixelberry. I do not claim any rights here.

Author’s Notes: This fic is dedicated to my best friend and fellow ES and Pokémon fan, @princesstopgun. Thank you so much for everything. You are an amazing best friend, your Highness. Nothing can change that. Consider this as a congratulatory present for you after receiving 300 followers. And also, this short story might reveal a few spoilers for the main series.

If “Keep Reading” doesn’t work, click here.

Tagging my Jake x MC friends and PSV fans

@princesstopgun, @mechaspirit, @queenaryn, @kaitloyalist, @choicesmarvel, @sceptilemasterr, @hey-its-vy, @skyila, @choicesyouplayandmore, @mysteli, @scgdoeswhat, @choicesaholic, @jakemckenzietrash, @xo-endlessmayhem-xo, @abhirio, @diego-vii, @daniela2510, @izzycheeese, @endlessly-searching-for-you

A few days after flying back to La Huerta, Jake and Taylor fly a helicopter towards Prisma City, located within the mountains. They are accompanied by Tyler and Quinn. Prisma City is famous for its brightly colored structures. It is also the home of La Huerta’s top Pokémon Doctor, Michelle Nguyen. The Power Couple soon land on the Grand Pokémon Center’s helipad. The four then exit the helicopter and discuss their plans in Prisma City.

Tyler: So, Quinn and I are just going to pick up our present from Michelle in her apartment. What are you guys gonna do here, exactly?

Taylor: Ugh... Remember that raptor guardian that we ran into when we were bringing the heart back to Vaanu?

Quinn: Yeah?

Taylor: Well...

Taylor turns to Jake, who grins confidently.

Jake: I’m going to catch it!

Taylor, Tyler and Quinn stare at Jake for a few seconds, annoyed.

Tyler: Seriously, dude?

Jake: What?

Quinn: We restored time years ago and now it’s all messed up again. Who knows what creature is now found within the depths of La Huerta.

Taylor: It could be a new Deep Guardian... Jake, it could be dangerous. Why are you doing this?

Jake looks at Taylor, blue eyes filled with concern. He sighs and tells the truth.

Jake: Well... Red here gets to have a Guardian of La Huerta as a partner. I admit that I am a “bit” jealous of her...

The three are again struck with annoyance as they disappointingly stare at Jake.

Tyler: Jake...

Jake: Okay, maybe I am jealous of her a LOT.

Quinn: That’s not the issue here.

Taylor becomes uneasy. She grabs Jake’s hand and squeezes it.

Taylor: I don’t want anything bad happening to you.

Jake reassuringly pats her on the head and smiles.

Jake: That’s why I’m bringing you with me, Princess. Aside from Boy Scout, you’re the strongest person I know. Besides, we can handle anything when we’re...

Taylor’s worry fades and she starts to smile back at Jake as she finishes his statement.

Taylor: ...Together.

The two share a heartfelt kiss for about a few seconds until...

Tyler: Also, to clarify, Quinn ACTUALLY caught the apprentice. The real Sea Guardian is the Red Gyarados, so... you might only catch the apprentice of the Deep Guardian.

Jake and Taylor turn and glare at Tyler for ruining their moment. Tyler hides behind Quinn and trembles as she giggles.

Quinn: Anyway, Tyler and I should be going. We’ll meet you guys later. Good luck and stay safe out there.

Tyler and Quinn wave at Jake and Taylor as they leave.

Taylor: Goodbye, Quinn!

Jake: See you soon, Boy Scout, Red...

The Power couple get back in the helicopter and they take off. They fly towards the chasm that leads towards the island’s core. They safely land and exit the helicopter upon arrival. They take off their winter outfits and wear heat-resistant clothing. As they enter the cave, they call out their Pokémon.

Taylor: Let’s go, Furball.

Jake: I’m counting on you, Lycanroc.

They venture through a torrid cavern with lava as their source of light. As they travel deeper into the core of the island, they start to hear loud cries. They whisper to each other.

Jake: That must be the Deep Guardian.

Taylor: I got a bad feeling about thi--

Jake immediately covers Taylor’s mouth.

Jake: Don’t do a Star Wars jinx on us.

Taylor realizes what she was almost about to do and nods.

The two are able to reach the deepest point of the cave. Suddenly, the cries started to become louder as they feel small tremors around them. After a few seconds, they sense it; the Deep Guardian.

Jake: It’s coming!

Taylor: Get ready!

With each step of the Guardian, a slight tremor is made. From the shadows, Jake and Taylor see a large silhouette. As it comes closer, they can see it much clearer. The Guardian is revealed to be a huge, bipedal Pokémon, black with plates of silver-colored armor.

Taylor: The Guardian is an Aggron?

Jake: Now that is worth a catch!

Aggron lets out a deafening roar. Jake and Taylor are able to cover their ears in time. Taylor turns to Jake with a plan.

Taylor: Furball and I won’t be able to deal much damage to it. I need you to take care of offense here. I’ll provide support at your back.

Jake: Funny. I’m usually the one at YOUR back.

Jake smirks and chuckles as Taylor glares at him.

Taylor: This is not the time, Jake!

Jake directs his attention back at Aggron and composes himself.

Jake: Right. Let’s do this!

Aggron then starts to glow. Taylor notices what it is trying to do and warns Jake.

Taylor: Jake, it’s Mega Evolving!

Jake: Shit...

Aggron starts to undergo Mega Evolution...

After the Mega Evolution process, Aggron goes on all fours, ready to fight Jake and Taylor

Recommended music: Hoenn Elite Four

Aggron’s head starts to glow white.

Jake: It’s preparing to use Iron Head!

Taylor: Furball, use Ice Beam!

Furball fires an azure beam on the ground as ice shards start to form. The shards make their way to Aggron and roots it in place.

Jake: Thanks, Princess. Lycanroc, use Focus Punch!

Lycanroc clenches his fist as starts to glow blue. Lycanroc then charges towards Aggron and punches it on the face with all of his might. Unfortunately, Aggron does not flinch. It looks at Lycanroc with no sign of pain in its eyes. Lycanroc becomes scared and leaps back cautiously.

Jake: What?! Why isn’t a super-effective attack working?

Taylor: It’s most likely its Mega Abiltity.

Jake: Which is?

Taylor: Filter; it lessens the damage of super-effective moves received.

Jake: Well, that’s just bull!

Aggron breaks free of its ice prison and prepares to use Focus Punch. Its fist start to glow and Jake notices this.

Jake: Tch! Lycanroc get outta there!

Lycanroc leaps back even further, but with Aggron’s head still glowing white, it uses Iron Head to boost itself towards Lycanroc and punches it with Focus Punch. Lycanroc is launched towards Furball and they are damaged by the collision.

Taylor: Furball!

Jake: Lycanroc!

Jake and Taylor’s Pokémon lie on the ground, struggling to get up. Aggron slowly start to make its way towards them. Taylor crouches in front of Furball and Lycanroc in an attempt to protect them. Aggron readies its fist as it starts to conduct electricity, preparing a Thunder Punch.

Jake: Princess!

Jake rushes towards them and gets in between Taylor and Aggron. He closes his eyes, ready to risk his life in order to protect his wife. But before Aggron could hurt anyone with Thunder Punch, a fist engulfed in flames hits it square in the face. It staggers and hits a cave wall. Jake opens his eyes to see a large, bipedal, dinosaurian Pokémon with a green, armor-like hide covering its body.

Taylor: Is that...?

Jake: A Tyranitar!

Tyranitar then turns to Jake and gives him a nod. Jake understands what the nod meant but asks the Armor Pokémon to clarify.

Jake: You want me to... use you in battle?

Tyranitar: Grr...

Tyranitar grunts in acceptance and Jake grins. He turns to Taylor.

Jake: I guess Tyranitar will do, Princess. It’s no Guardian, but it’s good enough.

Taylor smiles and encourages him.

Taylor: Go get ‘em, Top Gun.

Jake then turns to Tyranitar with a smile.

Jake: Let’s do this, Tyranitar.

Tyranitar roars and Jake’s dog tags start to glow. Jake looks at his tags as something starts to magically form in one of them. It is revealed to be a Mega Stone.

Jake: Sweet!

Jake taps the stone and starts to chant.

Jake: Rise from the chasms and tower over the mountains… Tyranitar, MEGA EVOLVE!!

Tyranitar starts to glow as he undergoes Mega Evolution.

After the process, Tyranitar lets out a roar towards Aggron, who stands back up and roars back.

Jake: Alright, Godzilla. Let’s do this!

Aggron gets on all-fours again as it prepares to use another Iron Head attack.

Jake: Not this time. Tyranitar, use Superpower!

Tyranitar bulks up and starts to glow blue. Tiny rocks start to levitate around him and the ground shakes beneath him. The two Mega Pokémon then charge at each other. Aggron headbutts Tyranitar, who in turn slams his arms on its back. Aggron is forcefully laid on the ground as it winces in pain.

Jake: Double Fire Punch now!

Tyranitar clenches both of his fists as they engulf in flames. He then tries to punch Aggron, but it instantly stands up and catches both Tyranitar’s fists with its hands. Aggron grins as Tyranitar grits his teeth. Jake grins.

Jake: Gotcha... NOW, USE HYPER BEAM!!

With Pokémon’s hands occupied, Tyranitar opens his mouth and starts to quickly gather energy. After gathering enough, a blue sphere forms in Tyranitar’s mouth and he quickly fires it. A thick blue beam hits Aggron’s face at point-blank range. Aggron staggers backwards by the damage caused by Hyper Beam. Eventually, it trips backwards and falls on its back. It reverts to its original form before fainting.

Jake revels in his victory while Tyranitar smiles as it reverts back to his original form.

Jake: We did it!

He rushes towards Tyranitar and hugs him. The Pokémon smiles and hugs him back.

Jake: Great job, buddy!

Tyranitar: Grrr...

They are approached by Taylor, along with Lycanroc and Furball who are now recovered.

Taylor: Not bad, Top Gun.

Furball: Mrrf!

Lycanroc: Ruff!

Jake pulls away from Tyranitar and approaches Taylor. He says nothing but instead pulls her to a grateful kiss. They linger in each other’s lips as they enjoy the everlasting moment. They eventually pull away and look at each other’s eyes.

Taylor: I’m so happy that you won and survived.

Jake: You’re not gonna lose me, Princess... ever.

Taylor: I know... I love you, Jake.

Jake: I love you too, Taylor.

The two embrace as their Pokémon enjoy the moment; Furball smiles, Lycanroc wipes tears from his eyes, and Tyranitar softly claps his hands. Seconds later, Aggron awakes from fainting and stands up. The group ready themselves.

Jake: Back for round two?

Aggron and Tyranitar stare at each other tensely for a few seconds... until they bump each other’s fists. Jake and Taylor become confused at the scene.

Taylor: Wait...

Jake: ...What?

Aggron then turns to them and gives them a grateful nod before walking back into the depths. Jake remains confused.

Jake: Okay, so what was that just now?

Taylor: I think... Aggron was testing you.

Jake: What do you mean?

Taylor: Think about it. The storm from earlier? It’s no coincidence that we’d meet the Sea Guardian a few minutes after the storm hit. The Guardian was testing Quinn, to see if she would be willing to accept the powers that Vaanu gave to her years ago. When she did, she was given a gift, which was her Gyarados. I think the Deep Guardian was testing you too.

Jake: Well, what was my test?

Taylor: A test of courage; to see if you’re willing to face anything, even those more powerful than you and risk yourself to save the ones you love from it.

Jake: Pffft. Of course, I would do pass that easily, Princess.

Taylor smirks.

Taylor: You sure? Because I saw slightly trembling when you were right between my and the Guardian.

Jake: No, I wasn’t!

Taylor: Would you like me to bring out the truth serum?

Jake: Don’t you dare! I passed the test and that’s all that matters.

Taylor laughs before kissing Jake on the cheek. Afterwards, they return Furball and Lycanroc in their respective pokéballs. Jake then turns to Tyranitar.

Jake: Who knew you were the apprentice of the Deep Guardian. I guess you’re stuck with me know.

Tyranitar happily growls at Jake and hugs him. The man chuckles.

Jake: Hehe. Welcome to the family, Godzilla.

Taylor: You’re really sticking to that nickname?

Jake: What? He’s big dinosaur who fires a blue beam. “Godzilla” is perfect.

As they laugh, Jake grabs an empty pokéball and catches Tyranitar with it. Afterwards, the Power Couple return to the helicopter and fly back towards Prisma City.

Later that night, Jake and Taylor meet up with the rest of the Endless Summer Gang. Along with Tyler and Quinn, they tell the stories of how they met their new friends.

THE END.

[vomiting-out-words]

Twilight Princess [Maybe to Be Continued?]

Session One - May 29th, 2018

Ordon Village, The Twilight, Faron Woods(Twilight), Forest Temple, Kakariko Village(Twilight), Death Mountain, Goron Mines, Lanayru Province (Twilight)

Information Trash -

Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess is the thirteenth installment of the Zelda series. The game was originally going to be released on the GameCube in 2005 but ended up getting released the following year with the release of the Nintendo Wii in 2006; only the be released on the GameCube a month later. Ten years later; it was released in a high-definition version on the Nintendo Wii U, with the GameCube control style. Nearly nine million copies of the game were sold before Breath of the Wild had taken the title of best-selling title in a series in April 2018.

Session One - Session Two - Session Three - Session Four

Let’s Get Down to The Dirty -

Ever since the Christmas of 2010; when the Limited Edition Red Wii came out with Super Mario Bros., we also got it Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. Since then; every year I seemed to spend a couple of days playing the game over again, and to see how long it takes for me to get through it. So, I am back at it again this year, and and I finally agree that I shall write a review for it because it seems like a good one to do the first review with. Not to mention it was the first Zelda game that I actually played from start to finish by myself.

So, I started the game up, since I was babysitting my younger sister who had injured herself over the weekend and couldn’t really go to school. It’s been awhile playing on the Wii because I’ve been playing like Stardew Valley and other things on the PS4 and computer so it was really weird to be swinging my arms around, but it was a good workout.

Twilight Princess takes place hundreds of years after Ocarina of Time; within an alternate timeline from The Wind Waker, which leads the game to be in the Child Timeline. But I am not even going to get into the Zelda timeline because that is a can of crap that I don’t want to even get into right now, but maybe later. You; the player, plays as the recurring protagonist; Link. A young Hylian male who is once again trying to save Hyrule from the threat of the mirror realm; the Twilight Realm. A very original idea, Nintendo, but it seems like you pretty much reused it for Link Between Worlds.

Like pretty much every other Zelda game; Link lives in a small village, with some very average life; and somehow knows how to wield a sword; among many other things; with or without and explanation on how he learned such things. Thank god it’s kind of assumed on how he learned it in this game. Ordon Village is as far south as you can get in Hyrule, and far enough away from Hyrule Castle that Link has never really been exposed to a whole lot of Hyrule. Not to mention he’s like the other able person to protect the village from dangers while working his day job as a rancher on a goat farm passed the mayor’s house. So, as the player; you get like 10-20 minutes into the game doing really boring shit; like herding goats, having to make children happy by spending your own money, then going off to save said children because apparently they don’t listen, but when do children ever do, before having to try and get your horse back from Link’s love interest; while during that scene of getting Epona back, that’s where all the shit goes wrong.  Literally; they pretty much put in a love interest for Link in every game, and the love interest is barely apart of the story and is never mentioned ever again. So, Nintendo is really trying for romance, but they are putting so much pointless crap that doesn’t need to be there. Which isn’t the shit that blows up in their face. 

So, Bulblins come brushing into Ordon Spring; knocking out both Ilia and Link, and somehow getting only four children of the village; Beth, Talo, Malo, and Colin. Though how Beth, Talo, and Malo got taken is literally unknown to the player considering it was only Link, Ilia, and Colin at the Ordon Spring with Epona. Anyways, Link gets dragged through a dark wall that splits the Ordon Province from the Faron Province; being brought into the Realm of Twilight, which should have made him into a spirit that literally has no idea what is going on, but surprise, surprise, the Triforce of Courage influences Link by transforming him into a “beast” wolf. Now, Ordon is perfectly fine thanks to the Ordon Province Light Spirit; Ordona. How that Light Spirit is stronger than all the others is beyond me even.

Skip to Link waking up chained up in a prison. He’s more surprised then freaked out about what has happened to him; which makes this boy pretty laid back, more so than most people, which is very odd because anyone in Link’s situation would be having a clear heart attack or something. A few moments pass and here comes an imp-like chick; Minda. Who literally taunts Link until finally setting him free, only to really make him her minion. With Midna’s instructions; he takes her to someone to explain to him what in the world is going on. While the player already knows where Link is, and who he is going to meet; until right before he gets to meet the person; Midna tells him that they’re at Hyrule Castle. Literally pulling something out of a Disney Guide, Link breaks into a tower and goes into a room at the top to meet no other than Zelda. While Nintendo spent so much time building up this very scene, it was very anticlimactic all around. Link and Midna ditch Hyrule Castle as soon as the cutscene is done and with Minda’s little ability, they are taken to Ordon Province, right at the Ordon Spring where Link finally gets to talk to Ordona; telling him what he needs to do now.

Midna instructs Link that they need a sword and shield first before they head off to the Faron Province; meaning Link heads back to Ordon Village; due to the fact that the player knows that there’s, in fact, a sword and shield there. While doing some sneaking around to get these things; Link finds out that the children have been kidnapped as well; along with Colin’s father; Rusl, being injured while going to look for the children. Pretty much getting the things, Link heads to the border of the Ordon Province and Faron Province and goes through the wall once again to be brought back to the Realm of Twilight, only to pretty much to almost get his head chopped off by Midna; who has no clue how to wield and sword and shield or at least the shield bit. Link should have died much earlier than this by now, but he’s the hero of course; and he can’t die because he’s got the Triforce of Courage, that he had no clue about until Zelda told him.

The player pretty much heads straight for the Faron Spring, where you see a cloud of glowing dust over the water before meeting the Light Spirit; Faron, who asks Link to go find the Tears of Light to restore the Spirit from this state. These Tears of Light are being held by- I am literally just going to call them fireflies, but just deadlier and huge assholes. Once that is finished, Link is brought back to Faron Spring and changed back into a human; but in the Green Tunic of the Hero; the typical Link uniform. Faron points you in the direction of where you need to find what you are looking for, which Link has no clue since Midna literally doesn’t give out that information just yet about what they are looking for.

Welcome to your first dungeon; the famous Forest Temple. Which is pretty much the actual tutorial of the game. Since before; that was all really grunt work, and nothing was really other than just running around doing tasks, which is the game has a lot of if you’re willing to spend like a day in enjoy area getting everything. Something that I never do when I play this every year. Pretty much, the entire task of this dungeon is to collect monkey’s, that the game makes you think are assholes; but Talo is just an animal racist. The dungeon holds two mini-boss’ and one main boss; all of which are super easy, seeing as this is the tutorial. The item that you get from this dungeon is from the first mini-boss which is the King of the Monkey’s, you see him when you first get to the temple, he smacks his ass at you. The Gale Boomerang is something that you do use pretty much throughout the entire game; and of course, plays a huge part of the dungeon. The second mini-boss is right before the boss key, and is a pushover compared to the battle before it; thanks to the Gale Boomerang. Finally, you go to the boss.

Diababa is some weird looking creature that is in poison water. The thing is just terrible. With the Gale Boomerang and help from the Monkey King, you beat the boss with the legendary three hits rule and that entire dungeon takes about fifteen minutes tops; maybe twenty if it’s your first time through it. You get your heart piece along with a Fused Shadows, a piece of it, considering it’s been broken up into four pieces, Midna has one of them on her head. You learn a little bit more of it; that with they hold an ancient power that could help them fight Zant; the King of Twilight that started this entire mess. But they are across Hyrule and they need to find them.

With Faron Woods done and dealt with, it is time to head to the Eldin, after Faron tells Link that he’ll find the people that he is looking for. So, with that, they head off and entire the Realm of Twilight once again. On their way, Link finds a broke wooden sword; his old wooden sword that he had given to Talo. Sniffing it gives Link the scent of the children leading them to Kakariko Village, where Link meets the Light Spirit; Eldin, who also needs Link to gather it’s lost Tears of Light. While on the hunt; Link comes across spirits and finds that it’s the children, but no Ilia. Who is not mentioned, literally, you seriously don’t hear anything about Ilia for a while, or does anyone make mention of her.

While the rest of the children are scared, the only person who really is calm is Colin; who tells the others that Link is coming to save them, he knows it. Link is obviously touched by this, because he’s right there listening, and it kind of motivates the player to continue of this task just because of the sake for Colin. Collect the light, and once back as Link, the children see him and come running, all so happy to see them. Renado; the shaman of the village, who has been taking care of the children with his daughter; Luda, fills Link in on what has been happening. The Gorons’ had a sudden change in behavior and that Death Mountain seems very different. Link attempts to head up to check it out, but gets knocked back down, when returning to the village, Link runs into Renado; who tells him that the mayor of Ordon Village; Bo, has challenged the Gorons’ before and won, earning their respect. But right before Link starts to head back to Ordon Village, Epona comes rushing down the road from the other way and Link is finally back together with his horse, making the trip back to Ordon much easier and quicker.

Link learns how to sumo fight, which is pretty cool to bring Japanese culture into the game, but it is a Japanese game, but that’s beside the point. Once after defeating the mayor during the second round, he deems you right to fight, while giving you a little gift of the Iron Boots, to keep Link on his feet. Return to Death Mountain and start the climb to the top. While there, the mountain is erupting like crazy, making it pretty hard to dodge falling rocks and keep from getting knocked down by Gorons’. Finally to the top, Link ends up getting challenged by Elder Gor Coron. Once through that fight, then you learn of what is going on. The Gorons’ have been keeping watch over the Fused Shadows piece for generations now, and with the mountain acting up, they went to investigate, which lead to the Goron Tribe Patriarch; Darbus to be cursed and go on a rampage, so they locked him up deep in the mines.

Now with access to the Goron Mines; the player heads down to the second dungeon of the entire game. Which is literally just fire and lava everywhere. How Gorons’ mine from this, is literally a mystery because there are millions of safety concerns that they don’t seem to be bothered about at all. With this boss key, you have to go and find the other Goron Elders that are all holding a piece of the key. Along the way, you use the Iron Boots, and obtain the Bow and Arrows with a mini-boss fight with this huge Goron that is protecting the item is of the previous hero. With both, the player spends the rest of the dungeon with those items collecting the key pieces from Gor Amoto, Gor Ebizo, and Gor Liggs. Finally with the key put back together you go down to fight Darbus, who has been transformed into the Twilit Igniter Fyrus. This boss has to be one of the easiest out of the entire game, considering it’s just making him fall and go whack his head. The Forest Temple boss was easy as well, just more time-consuming.

With that out of the way, pick up Bombs first before heading to the Lanayru Province. Trying to get to the spring is a bit of hassle considering the player has to jump off a bridge because there is a time limit before Link is burned alive thanks to asshole enemies. Jumping down towards Lake Hylia and realizing that there is practically no water, but thankfully landing into the water that is left is a god sent. Link kind of wanders around until finally figuring out how to get to the spring and start on collecting to Tears of Light for Lanayru. While this takes you to Castle Town because Link finds Ilia’s leg pouch and followed the scent back to a bar, where she is seen worrying over a Zora boy.

Quick backstory on this boy; he’s actually the Zora Prince, who was coming to the castle to tell Zelda about what has happened in Zora’s Domain since they were attacked by evil people as well. You meet this Prince’s mother after you help Eldin; telling you that her son is out there and if Link could please find him seeing as she was publicly killed in front of all the Zora’s.

Now, after that little moment, Link heads up to Zora’s Domain, where it is freezing for some reason. Going further up, and still not seeing at Zora’s, they reach the throne room where they look down to see that all the Zora’s are trapped in ice. Midna warps something from Death Mountain that had fallen on your way up there to deal with the Fused Shadows. Freeing the Zora’s just in time too, because they probably would have died. Noticing that there is a mark missing, before it magically pops up on the map back at the lake, getting back down there quickly thanks to the fast current of water after defrosting the Domain. Que boss music; literally to close off this segment of the game; you fight this huge, gross bug and finally finish collecting Tears of Light, that you never have to do again for the rest of the game.

Link learns about the Fused Shadows from Lanayru, stuff that Midna would never tell him due to mainly being ashamed of her past, of her tribe, but she doesn’t really mention it until much later in the game, but she does hint at it a little bit after each time finishing a dungeon.

With that done, Link has to head back to Kakariko Village to go sell his bombs to get water bombs or the player can figure out how to get more bomb bags, though personally you only really need two since, in the entire game, you really only need regular bombs and water bombs. Then return to Castle Town to reunite with Ilia… Who has no clue who you are and is very worried about the Zora boy; which brings Link to escort Telma; the bar owner, Ilia and the Zora Prince. This had to be one of the worst things to do besides collecting all the Tears of Light. I was more than glad that it was only once that I had to do this because you had to focus on some many things to do that it was overwhelming and you want to throw your controls at the tv. After that mess was dealt with, you get the Zora Armor as thanks.

With this, Link can finally head to the Lakebed Temple and get the final Fused Shadows.

But this was where I decided to end the first session considering was I just relaxed with just having those parts behind considering I knew that I was about to be in store for a lot more hurt when I picked the game back up again the next day, which doesn’t help with jerky controls, but then again, the batteries were dying in the Wii remote, so that was partly at fault.

[writingwitchly]

A piece of the past

Request: JamesxLily and I would love it to have a bit of Sirius and maybe of lil Harry too. But it’s okay with only Jily too. You keep the plot and everything like you want to, I’ll love it anyway! <3 ~ @jily-live-on aka my wonderful S

Ship: Jily A/N: My first request ever! I’m so happy that it was from you, S!  A/N2: Ok, so, I cried. The writing drove me crazy, didn’t feel too confortable using past tense, so if anybody sees a mistake, please let me know! Hope you all like it! Word count: 1,9k

James Potter was not the kind of guy that gets scared easily.

“Hand me the towel. Quickly!”

He had become an animagus during his teen years, without any adult’s help…

“Faster Pads, this is horrible!”

… because he was friends with a werewolf…

“I can’t- Did you find it?”

“I’m not good at doing things under pressure, Prongs!”

… he had fought against Dark wizards...

“Are you sleeping or what? This is getting out of hands!”

“It’s coming! Resist a bit mo-”

Tunk

… dealt with wicked magical creatures during his time at Hogwarts…

“How am I supposed to do this?”

“I don’t know, mate. Let me have a few seconds to recover, I just tripped over a giant lizard and almost broke my teeth.”

… asked Lily Evans out…

“That’s what happens when you don’t watch your steps. Just throw it away. The towel?”

… at least a hundred times…

“The tow- Stop looking at yourself in that mirror, you self-obsessed idiot!”

“I told you I almost got disfigured, you four-eyed moron!”

… he was brave, a true Gryffindor…

“Hand the bloody towel, Pads. And come help me, I can’t hold it much longer!”

“It’s your fight, don’t- What the hell is that?”

… but some things are bound to destabilize a 21-years-old man.

“That’s called a diaper.”

Under Sirius’ curious look, James tried, for the umpteenth time, to secure Harry in his diaper, with no better result than the previous attempts.

When his wife asked him to look after the baby a couple of hours before, James accepted, considering that he had enough experience, now, to deal with the situation. But apparently, after almost a year of being a father, he was no closer to knowing how to take care of his son than Dumbledore to rejuvenate.

“And how do you know which part is the front and which is the back?”

He also thought that Sirius’ help would make it all easier. His plan was to feed the child, put him to sleep, and then play wizarding chess with his best friend. But then again, it was easier for Nearly Headless Nick to enter the Headless Hunt.

“I guess this is the front. I’m 99% sure. Okay, maybe just 98%. Anyway, Lily’ll be up in no time.”

The real reason that had pushed James to be alone with the baby -- because being with Sirius at that moment was as good as being alone -- was because he wanted Lily to have some rest. The loneliness, the pressure, and the sleepless nights were starting to feel heavy on her shoulders.

“Well, I’m telling you, I’m glad to be single.”

Hurried steps coming from the stairs made the young men look up from the changing table. When they heard a series of loud bangs and disgruntled mumbles, their gazes met in a frightened coordination.

“James Potter! Sirius Black!” The cry, echoing from the living room, belonged to a half-preoccupied, half-enraged Lily.

After losing a rock, paper, scissors battle with Sirius, and taking what was left of his courage with both hands, James stepped in the next room, finding himself to be facing nothing but darkness. Remembering that he had closed the curtains in his effort to put Harry to sleep, he took a few steps toward the window, bumping into a pair of boots on the way.

When the feeble sun rays illuminated the interior of the house again, the young man turned over to look at his wife. Her nap did her good, by what he saw, as she looked more fresh than in the past days. But a rested Lily was also a more high-tempered Lily.

“Yes, darling?” James let out in a shy tone.

“James Fleamont Potter,” she said in a shaky voice, probably because she was trying to hold back her anger. “I take a few hours of peace and leave you in charge, and look at the state of the house!”

For the first time in the afternoon, James shot a glance at his surroundings, and he couldn’t help but understand Lily’s mood: Never, in his life, had he seen a more upside down room. Rests of baby food were spread on the couch; Sirius’ backpack laid open on the floor, its content dispersed here and there; there was a jumble of clothes in the middle of the room; something - feathers? - was showing from under an armchair; a broken vase had released its water and flowers everywhere; the big lizard toy on which Sirius had tripped was sticking his tongue out to James, from the corner where it had been dumped after the attempted disfigurment; an odd looking green substance was hanging from the roof; and Lily was blocked behind a mountain of old books, built by the men earlier in their attempt to stop Harry from climbing the stairs.

When James freed her with a flick of his wand, they were both surprised by a rather outraged ginger cat zooming away from the spot.

“There you were, Nuts! You should have told us that you liked to read so much!” joked the man, but his wife’s serious glance made him quiet again. Apparently, she didn’t believe that trapping the cat under the whole content of the bookshelf was a good idea.

“Do I have to worry about my child, or is he still alive?” asked the woman after a pause.

For a response, a disheveled and totally soaked Sirius got out of the bathroom, holding a pink and chubby mass wrapped in a towel. “Hi, Lily, had a nice rest?”

Answering with just a smile, she approached him to take the babbling baby in her arms.

“How’s baby Harry?” she said in the sweetest voice ever heard from her.

A small hand extricated itself from under the cloth to clumsily caress Lily’s face, ending up pulling her nose.

“Mommy loves you too,” laughed the woman, and then she added, “And as you look like you’re enjoying your time with your Godfather, Mommy is going to have a small talk with Daddy in the kitchen.”

Lily didn’t notice, as she was busy kissing Harry’s feet and laughing with him, the silent conversation between the two men.

“You are not leaving me alone with the monster,” mouthed Sirius.

“I’m going to have a worse time than you,” mouthed back James, pointing at Lily with his head.

“You four-eyed traitor,” said the former with his eyes.

“You self-obsessed coward,” glanced back the latter.

Some fog, a gray garden, an empty street, and a lot of rain: That’s all that James managed to see from the window of the kitchen.

“Quite a depressing scene,” he thought.

Then, his gaze went back to the red-haired woman that was standing in front of the stove, stiring some hot chocolate.

“Now, this is a view,” he said to himself.

With her lose hair and sparkling green eyes, she looked as gorgeous as she did during their Hogwarts years. The shadows under her eyes and the preoccupation that contracted her traits were the only proofs that some time had passed since when they were teenagers without a bigger concern than their Potions marks.

James still couldn’t believe that, finally, Lily Evans -- no, Potter, please -- was his wife. And it had been two years or so since the wedding.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, recalling the “small talk” she wanted to have, and considering that the sooner it was over, the better.

“Um, darling?”

She turned her head to look at him, apparently lost in her thoughts.

“What did you want to talk about?” the man asked.

An expression of comprehension, soon replaced by a childish grin, relaxed her face.

“Oh, nothing,” she explained, “We’ve been locked in here for almost a year now, but with Harry we barely have time to spend together. I was just taking advantage of Sirius’ presence to be alone with you.”

A rush of deep love toward his wife ran through James’ body, and he moved to hug her, burying his face in her flower-scented, flaming-red hair. For a moment, he wondered whether Harry would have such a strong attraction as him toward redheads, but then he pushed the thought aside: There was just a chance in a million.

Meanwhile, Lily’s hands closed around her husband’s waist, fists clenching the soft wool of his sweater, a Christmas gift by Molly Weasley. She rested her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and synchronizing her breathing with his. Her eyes closed, she silently hoped that Harry would turn out to be like him: a handsome, caring, brave man.

Suddenly, she realized something: What if James and her were not there to raise him? What if something happened to them? With their parents gone and Petunia and Vernon not wanting to come any closer than one mile, she felt no support.

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll be fine,” she heard, “We love each other, we love Harry, and we have friends that love us. Everything is going to be alright.”

It was as if James had read in her mind.

“Do you promise?” she asked in a frightened, naive tone, very unusual to her.

What are promises in times of war? He didn’t want to lie to her, but he loved her so much. He knew he would do anything to keep her safe. To keep Harry, the fruit of their love, safe.

“I’ll do my best.”

He grabbed her chin and pulled her lips toward his, kissing her as he did during their first date: shyly, but pouring all his adoration into this simple action.

During their embrace, they felt plainly happy, forgetting the chaos that was submerging the world and all the difficulties and miseries that were awaiting outside. They were protected by this force that only the pure hearts can produce: the force of love.

Unfortunately, their moment of quiet couldn’t last long.

“My p- Harry! Harry no! Help!”

With a reluctant smile, James and Lily pulled apart.

“Poor Sirius. Harry can’t even walk properly, and his Padfather is already overcome,” remarked James.

“Imagine when he’ll start to talk,” said Lily dreamily.

“When he’ll go to school for the first time…”

“When he’ll have his first crush…”

“When he’ll be in his teenager crisis…”

“Argh! That leather jacket was new!”

“I guess we better go help him,” whispered Lili.

“Yeah, maybe,” answered James, and after a quick kiss on her cheek, he left the kitchen. “Reinforcements are coming Sirius!”

Remaining alone, Lily smiled to herself: This evening, she would have to bear with three children. Then, she stepped in the next room as well, ready to have a pillow fight or whatever else the guys were preparing.

The next hours went by between jokes and laughter. The photo album was commented -- “Sirius! There are more pictures of you at our wedding than of us!” -- and pictures were taken to fill it. Songs were sung -- “Stop singing, James, you’re frightening Harry!” -- and poems were written -- “What do you mean by ‘roses are red, violets are blue, Lily’s cute but not you’?” -- until the four peacefully fell asleep on the living room couches, wrapped by the silence of the night.

Untouched, on the dining table, stood the two mugs of hot chocolate, which, after all, were not needed by the newlyweds to bring back a piece of their past.

[wandering-bard-from-the-id]

Daughters of Arendelle - Chapter 26

Part I - Bonding

Here’s a link for chapters 1 - 25 at FF.net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12222767/1/Daughters-of-Arendelle

Chapter 26

Sept. 12, 1840

Maps were unfurled over the council table as aids hurried about. The Queen and her advisers stood circled around the table studying the largest one. Anna took her customary place at Elsa’s right hand, and to her right, stood Kristoff.

Hands flat atop the table, Elsa glared at the map as if she could will it to reveal the enemy’s secrets. “Kristoff, where did you see the army last?”

He leaned in to read some of the smaller print. His eyes swept over it several times before widening. “There.” At the far end of the broad canvass, he tapped a spot.

“How did you know there was an army on the far side of the mountains?” Arms folded over his chest, Tollak fixed the younger man with a hard stare.

Kristoff ignored him, directing his answer to Elsa. “Yesterday, on my way back from the ice camp, I found Miro Koskinen’s horse at the northern crossroads. There was no sign of Miro, and his saddle was covered in blood. I thought maybe he’d been attacked by wolves or a bear. So I went up the mountain to look for him.”

Elsa straightened to face him, taking in every word.

“About a mile up the pass I found him laying beside the road. He’d been shot. I tried to help him, but he was too far gone.” He startled as a slender hand slipped into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Tension eased in his shoulders at the concern in the blue eyes staring up at him.

“Was Miro a friend of yours?” Anna asked, her free hand coming to rest on his arm.

“Yeah, he was.” He felt her grip tightened. “He is, was, a mountain man. I’ve known him for a long time.” There was an ever so slight hitch in his voice. “Before he died, he told me, he stumbled on a couple of enemy scouts riding the far side of the North Mountain.” The muscles in his jaw tightened as he looked to Elsa. “They shot him in the back and left him for dead. Somehow, he managed to ride down the mountain to where I found him.” Anna eased a little closer to him. He didn’t look at her. “After he died, I rode up the Mountain to look for any sights of the scouts. It was dark by then, and on the next mountain over I could see campfires, lots of them.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Kristoff.” Elsa offered what sympathy she could. “Would you like for me to send someone to retrieve his body, for a proper burial?”

“No. Thank you. I buried him, before heading up the mountain.”

She nodded in reply. From the corner of her eye she saw a flash of pain cross Admiral Halldor’s face.

He raised a hand to adjust the sling supporting his other arm, unaware the Queen had noticed him using the gesture to rub at his chest. His attention shifted to Kristoff. “About what time did you see the army last?”

“Around midnight, maybe a little later. It looks like they’re heading for the North Mountain.”

“If they broke camp at dawn they could reach the base of the Mountain by nightfall.” Elsa’s eyes rose from the map to Kristoff. “How many would you say there were?”

“I don’t know, but it was an army. A big one. I could only see shadows against the campfires, men, horses and wagons, maybe some cannons.”

Silence fell over the room. The steady tic toc of an old grandfather clock, tucked between the book shelves, added a sense of dread to those gathered round the table. A grim reminder that time was not on their side.

“So how do we keep these creeps from attacking us?” Anna’s brow furrowed as she looked to her sister.

Behind the anger, Elsa could see a hint of fear in her sister’s eyes. Ice tickled her palms, eager to defend if needed. She clenched them at her sides, willing it to retreat. “First, we need to know who we’re dealing with.” Her attention shifted over Anna’s head.  “Kristoff, did you see any battle standards or flags?”

“I don’t know much about battle standards.” With his free hand, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “But, I did notice an emblem they were wearing.”

“How could you have seen what they were wearing from that distance, in the dark?” There was a sharp bite to Tollak’s words.

Kristoff squared his shoulders. Had they been closer Tollak would have been forced to look up at him. “I didn’t say I saw it in their camp. Two of their scouts chased me down the mountain. One of them had an emblem on his chest plate. I spent most of the night running from them.” His attention shifted to Anna. With Tollak forgotten his posture softened. “That’s why it took me so long to get here.”

Strong hands tightened on his hand and arm. He placed a hand atop hers, offering a small smile. She leaned into him.

“What did the emblem look like?” Captain Olsen asked.

It took him some effort to break away from Anna’s gaze. “Well, it was red and blue.”

“Red and blue?” Olsen repeated the words. His mustache dipped into a frown as he considered possible matches. “The British perhaps?”

“I doubt it.” Elsa dismissed the suggestion with a shake of her head. “Victoria is impulsive, but she’s shown no ill will toward Arendelle. We’ve always had an agreeable relationship. Were there any symbols or animals on it?

“Yeah, I think there was a dragon.”

Anna looked about the table. “I need some paper and a pencil.”

Frode appeared at her side with the requested items.

“Thanks.” She took them with a smile.

Unable to help himself, the boy beamed at her, before stepping back.

With pencil posed over paper, Anna glanced up at Kristoff. “How was it standing?”

“It was reared up on it’s hind legs, but one of it’s front legs was up, like it was reaching for something.”

She began to sketch.

“Higher, about even with it’s head.”

She altered the drawing.

“Yeah, like that. And there were leaves around it.” He pointed a finger making a circular motion.

“What type of leaves?” Halldor asked.

“Holly, I think. I didn’t get a good look at it.”

Anna added the leaves, making adjustments with Kristoff’s guidance.

“That’s it.”

She laid the pencil aside, and held up the paper. “This looks familiar.”

“Celina.” Tension coiled Elsa’s muscles, causing the tendons along her neck to bulge. Frost formed over clenched fists, she allowed it to creep up her arms.

Everyone shuttered at the drop in temperature.

A low, raspy string of words left Elsa’s lips in a half whisper.

Anna’s eyes widened. Old Norse wasn’t her favorite language, but she had a respectable understanding of it, or so she thought. Either Elsa’s pronunciations were off, unlikely, or she had mistranslated several of the words. There was no way, her sister had just colorfully suggested Celina enjoyed mating with livestock.

Kristoff’s jaw hung open as he stared at the Queen. Bishop Solberg coughed in a failed attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Why would Lienz march against us?” Anna managed to ask, after finding her voice. “Aren’t they our allies?”

“Trade partners.” The words hissed through Elsa’s clenched teeth as her face slipped into the emotionless mask Anna hated.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Admiral Halldor rapped his knuckles against the table. “King Mortiz has made rumbles over the years about treaties, but he has never been a true threat.”

“But his daughter could be.” Bishop Solberg gave a little shutter against the cold.

Small white clouds filled the cold air, from the breath of the people gathered about. Anna snuggled in closer to Kristoff for warmth.  

The gesture was not lost on Elsa. Her posture relaxed, and the room grew warmer. “Celina has never shown any real interest or talent for governing.”

“True, Your Majesty,” Solberg agreed with a nod. “But there have been rumors of her husband wishing to expand their borders.”

With some effort, Elsa willed the frost to fade from her hands. “I find it hard to believe, King Mortiz, would allow either of them to start a war so close on the heels of their recent conflict with the Spanish. The ink is barely dry on the peace accords from May.”

“Lienz, gained a new territory from that war, Your Majesty.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Tollak looked oddly at ease.  

Something in his demeanor caused Elsa’s ice to stir. She pushed it back. “Yes, Colonel, but for how long? Their support for the Carlist uprising has put them at odds with the Spanish, British, and French. It’s only a matter of time before one of them takes it back. Seven years of fighting has left the people war weary, and the kingdom nearly bankrupt. It will take years for them to recover.”

“Not if they take Arendelle, ma’am.” Halldor rubbed at his chest as he shook off the chill. “If they were to gain control of the silver mines and ports, they could fill their coffers in no time.”

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “I assure you, Admiral, an assault on Arendelle will cost them far more than they will ever hope to gain.

“I’ve no doubt, Your Majesty.” Halldor held her gaze.

“Your Majesty.” Bishop Solberg spoke up. “I agree, King Mortiz would not be eager to start another war. But, he may no longer have the power to stop it. I’d planned to meet with you after the festival, to discuss a letter I received this morning, from the Bishop of Lienz. He was advising me to expect the arrival of refugees in the coming days. The King has taken ill, if not, to his death bed. There is growing unrest in the country over the heavy taxes the Crown has forced on the people to pay for the war. Whatever sway the King had with his people is waning, and there seems to be little support for the Princess taking the throne.”

“That still doesn’t explain why they want to attack us.” Anna waved a hand at the map before planting both hands on her hips.

“It would if Celina has taken power.” Elsa said.

“Elsa, I know she doesn’t like you, but that’s hardly a reason to start a war.”

“Wars have been started over far less, Your Highness.” There was no humor in the Admiral’s remark. “Though I think the problem may lay with the prince consort.”

“So who’s he?” Kristoff asked.

“Prince Alexander,” Tollak declared. “Formally of the Southern Isles.”

A soft curse slipped Anna’s lips. “He’s Hans’ brother?!”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Tollak replied. “tenth in line for his father’s throne. He chose to pursue one through marriage.”

“Are all of them jerks?” Calloused fingers wrapped around Anna’s hand. She looked up into Kristoff’s soft eyes.

With a heavy sigh Admiral Halldor leaned against the table with a hand for support. “It would appear Prince Hans is working with his brother to steal your throne, Your Majesty.”

“So it would seem.” Emotions battled within her, but her face betrayed nothing.

“This is my fault. I should go meet them.” Determination drew Anna’s lips into a hard line as she accepted her role in the coming battle.  

“No!” Elsa and Kristoff spoke as one.

Elsa glanced at the mountain man. He folded his arms over his chest, waiting for her to continue. “You’re staying here, Anna.”

“No way, Elsa.” She took a step forward, pointing a finger in her sister’s face. “This involves Hans. I need to go.” Her hands came to her hips, in a defiant stance.

With a smooth grace born from years of practice, Elsa turned, whipping her cape back with one hand. “Hans, is why you need to stay as far away from that mountain as possible. I’ll deal with our uninvited guests.”

Anna held her ground. “If you’re going, I’m going too.”

“No, you’re not.” Elsa inched closer forcing Anna to tilt her head up to keep eye contact. “This isn’t just about Hans. Celina would love to get her hands on Arendelle.”

“Elsa, you need me.” Her posture softened, as doubt began to chip away at her anger.

“Yes, I do.” She placed a hand on Anna’s arm. “I need you here, as my regent.”

“You’re just trying to talk me out of going.” Her protest lacked force, but she wasn’t ready to surrender. “Tell me one good reason why I should stay.”

“You are my heir, and the Princess Regent in my absence. There are many things here that will require your attention.”

“Like what?”

“I want you to call up all members of the Royal Guard and reserves. Then double the coastal guards in case they try to attack from the sea. The fjord gate must remain secure at all cost, if they breech the fjord the town will be lost. Make sure everyone has at least two weeks provisions in their homes, and can be ready to leave at a moments notice. See to it the castle is well stocked in case they try to lay siege to us. And…”

“Okay, okay,” Anna raised her hands in surrender. “I get it. There’s lots to do here. But the Admiral and Kai can handle all of that.”

“They can’t rally the people.” Elsa gave her arm a little squeeze. “As the Crown Princess, the people will look to you for strength and guidance. You will be their beacon of hope, guiding them through the darkness.” Elsa’s lips rose into a soft smile as she cupped a freckled cheek. “I trust you to lead them in my absence.”

Anna stood slack jawed, eyes fixed on Elsa. Her lip began to quiver as she stood a little taller. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know.” Elsa traced a thumb over her cheek. It took everything she had not to embrace her sister. She was certain if she did, she’d never let her go. Her hand dropped to her side, as she turned back to the table. Gone was the loving sister, in her place stood the Queen of Arendelle. “Admiral, how long will it take to call up the reserves?”

“The first units should be in placed within two hours. The rest by nightfall, ma’am.”

“Good, we’ll use the first units to shore up the town’s defenses. No doubt their navy will be arriving to support the attack.”

“Agreed, ma’am, though our main focus should be on their army.” Halldor took a small carved infantry soldier from the edge of the table, and placed it on the map, over the North Mountain. “Lienz has been fighting land wars for so long, they’ve allowed their navy to fall into disarray. While they outnumber us, our fleet is strong and fast. Their old ships will be slow and under-gunned.” He placed a small ship on the map just beyond the fjord. “The real threat will be their land forces. By our latest estimates their army is at least fifty thousand men strong.”

“Fifty thousand!” Anna’s cheeks blushed as she realized all eyes were upon her. “I mean, wow, that’s a lot of men to feed.”

“Indeed it is, Your Highness,” Halldor agreed. “and once they’ve entrenched on the mountain, they’ll begin to send out raiding parties to fill their supply wagons.

Anna’s eyes narrowed. “You mean they’ll steal it from the local farmers.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Halldor replied. “But, for now, it’s not their stomachs I’m worried about. Even with the reserves, at best, we’ll only be able to muster twenty thousand men, give or take a few hundred.” He placed a wooden soldier on the town. “If she only sends half of her forces, she’ll still outnumber us. Unfortunately, this isn’t our biggest problem.”

“What could be a bigger problem than being outnumbered?” Anna asked.

Halldor placed a small wooden cannon on the mountain next to the soldier. “Lienz has some of the finest artillery in the world. If they set up cannon on the mountains they’ll blow the town to bits.”

Anna was the first to break the silence that had settled over the room. “So what do we do?”

“We stop those cannons from reaching this side of the mountain.” Elsa replied. “Admiral, send word to the fleet, order Rear Admiral Raske to recall all ships and make ready for battle. The fjord is to be guarded from the sea. Tell him to set up patrols along the coast line in case they attempt to put troops ashore further inland. He has my authority to use whatever force he deems necessary to defend Arendelle.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Halldor motioned to an aid.

The young soldier stepped up with a travel desk and handed him a pen. Halldor began writing out orders.

“Queen Elsa,” From across the table Tollak had been watching the exchange with great interest. “How exactly are you planning to deal with their army?”

“I’m going to the North Mountain, and greet our guests.”

“I’ll have the men ready to move out within the hour, ma’am.” There was a hint of excitement in Tollak’s voice as he motioned to an aid.

“No, Colonel,” All eyes turned to Elsa. “The army is staying in town. I’ll not leave Arendelle undefended.”

“Your Majesty,” Halldor paused in his writing. “You can’t face an army alone.”

“I’m not going alone, Admiral. Ready a company of two hundred men, they’ll guard the ridge till we can spare more men from the town defenses. Captain Olsen?”

“Ma’am?”

“I’ll take my guard and a squad of twenty Marines, of your choosing, as my escort to the mountain.”

“Your Majesty, there is no way we can secure the mountain with so few men. There are too many ways they could out flank us.”

“You won’t have to guard the whole mountain, Captain. On the way up, I’ll seal off all possible routes around our defenses.”

“You’re going to force them to march up the North Mountain.” Tollak gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

“Yes, I am. The passage up the mountain is too narrow for them to spread out. They’ll be forced into tight lines with little to no room to maneuver. Once they are trapped on the mountain, I’ll destroy their artillery. Even if they manage to get pass me, they’ll have no cannon. And without cannon, they’ll be hard pressed to breach the castle defenses.”

“You can’t do that!” All eyes turned to Tollak.

Elsa arched a brow at the man. “You have something to say, Colonel?”

The flush of his cheeks didn’t lessen as he straightened, tugging at the bottom of his uniform jacket. “Forgive my outburst, Your Majesty, but you can’t face the enemy with such a small force. You need to take the army with you. The town Royal Guard can defend the fjord against attack till reinforcements arrive.”

“I understand your concern, Colonel, but the town guard would be spread too thin to defend the fjord, the town and the castle. No, the main army will remain here to shore up the coastal and castle defenses.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave a curt nod.

Confused by his behavior, Elsa chose to let the Admiral deal with him later. “Admiral, once the reserves have mustered, you may send what you deem a reasonable number of reinforcements to the mountain. But the main force is to remain in Arendelle. Captain Olsen, have your men ready to leave within the hour.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He motion to Lieutenant Nickolas.

With a nod, the man disappeared out the door to carry out the orders.

“Corporal,” Halldor called to his aid. “Ready my, and Her Majesty’s horses. Make sure both are equipped with enough supplies for three days.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Belay that order, Corporal.”

“Ma’am?” The young man’s eyes shifted back and forth between his Queen and Commander.

“Make my horse ready, the Admiral will not be needing his.”

“Your Majesty…”

She cut him off. “Admiral, you’re in no condition to ride up the mountain.”  

“Nonsense, I’m fine…ma’am.”

The corners of Elsa’s lips rose. “Admiral, I need you here.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, you lack battlefield experience, and your magic has not been battle tested. I can aid you in the field.”

“Yes, I do lack experience, which is why I’m taking Captain Olsen and Lieutenant Nickolas with me. As for my magic, it will serve me as I wish it too.”

“Queen Elsa, I…”

She raised a hand to silence him. “Admiral, my sister will need your expertise to guide her in positioning resources throughout our defenses.”

“At least take Tollak with you.”

The Colonel stiffened at the suggestion.

“No, he’s needed here. You’re still weak from your wound. Should the enemy strike, I’d feel better knowing you, and the Colonel, are here to oversee the battle.”

His mouth opened, then snapped shut. He bowed his head. “As you wish, My Queen.”

No one noticed the tension leave Tollak’s shoulders.

“These maps aren’t complete.” Kristoff twisted over the table to study them better.

Tollak made no attempt to hide his displeasure with the mountain man. “They were drawn by some of the finest cartographers in the land.”

“They’re out of date.” He pointed to a section. “See this pass here, it was blocked by a landslide last spring. There is no way an army is getting through there. And here, that ravine opens to the main passage. They could slip through it unseen till they reach this mountain ridge.”

“Kristoff,” Elsa said. “you know the terrain better than anyone. I could use your help sealing off the routes around the mountain. Do you feel up to a return trip?”

“Sure, I just need to water Sven.”

“You can take a horse, if you’d like to give him a rest.”

“No, he’ll be fine.”

“Wait, you’re both going?” Anna looked between them.

Elsa touched her arm. “I need his help, Anna.”

Kristoff took her hand. “It’ll be alright.”

Her head ducked with a little nod.

“I need to get Sven ready.” Kristoff looked to Elsa.

“We’ll leave within the hour.” She dismissed him with a bow of her head.

He gave Anna’s hand a little squeeze, before heading out the door.

She watched him disappear into the hallway.

The room returned to controlled chaos as plans were finalized.

Anna startled at a light touch on her arm. She turned to find Elsa at her side.

“I’ve a few more things to attend to here, then I need to go to my chambers to get ready. Why don’t you go see if Kristoff needs anything before we leave?”

“Are you sure?” She hesitated.

“Go on.”

“Okay.” She patted Elsa’s arm before turning away.

Elsa watched her slip out the door. Her chest tightened at the thought she might be sending her sister for a final farewell. She shook it off, and turned to Captain Morten, motioning him to her.

He followed her to a corner of the room, away from the others.

“How may I help you, Your Majesty?”

“Captain, I have faith in our forces. But should the tide turn against us, every effort must be made to keep my sister safe.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“If the enemy should overrun Arendelle, I want you to get my sister out of town and into the mountains.”

“Queen Elsa, I’ll do everything in my power to protect her, but I doubt she’ll agree to abandon the town.”

“It won’t be her choice, Captain. You must not allow her to be captured by Prince Hans, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand.”

“Good, you know of the passages leading to the Eastern woods?”

“I do, ma’am.”

“That will be your route of escape should the castle fall. I’ll make arrangements for supplies to be left in the tunnels. Once you are clear of the castle, get her to Corona. Our uncle will see to her safety.”

“And what of your safety, ma’am?”

“If Hans takes the castle, you can be assured I am lost, and Princess Anna is your Queen. You will treat her as such.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

She was touched by the pained look in his eyes. “Kai will help you gather the supplies for the tunnel. You are to discuss this with no one other than him.” Her tone softened. “Thank you for your service, Captain.”

He snapped to attention. “It has been an honor to serve you, My Queen.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as she dipped her head to him. “Dismissed.”

He bowed and moved toward the table.

Elsa took a moment to compose herself. Anna, will be alright, she clung to the thought, willing it to be true. She’ll be safe behind the castle walls, and guarded by an army. And faced with a conquering army. She shook her head against the thought. No, I will not allow those bastards to destroy our home. She raised a hand. Yellow magic sparked over her fingertips. If it’s a war you want, Celina, than I shall give you one that will make your ancestors weep with fear. An odd sense of peace settled over her as she returned to the table.  

*Author’s Note - For anyone wondering, yes, this is the same Celina from When Diplomacy Fails. Some people just never learn.

[coffeeandtin]

Couldn’t Ever Make the Comfort Stick

Anon requested: The Reader, who knows Goody (He’s like an uncle/father figure to them.), joins The Seven. (I had such a good time writing this! The title is from the song Ghosts of Old Highways by Lovett. It’s one of those songs that is in my personal Magnificent Seven playlist.)

           You’d already made a name for yourself by the time you tracked down Goodnight Robicheaux and the rest of The Seven. You hadn’t seen each other since you were a child and Goodnight had been a much younger man. He’d recognized you right away, though; and he pulled you into a back-breaking embrace.

           “I ain’t seen you since-”

           “Just after the war,” you supplied.

           He pulled you into another hug, and kissed your temple.

           “You got taller,” Goodnight said as he held you at arm’s length with a hand on each of your shoulders.

           “Indeed, I did,” you confirmed.        

           Excelling in height as you aged was inevitable, but you felt a swell of pride at Goodnight’s observation, nonetheless.

          He introduced you to his companions, and the eight of you spent hours exchanging tales, though these eventually turned to your reminiscences of Goodnight, and his of you.

           “What brings you here?” Goodnight asked when conversation finally died down in the wee hours of the morning.

           He gave you a smile that looked like home; but his eyes searched yours, telling you that he knew your presence was more than just a happy coincidence.

           You shrugged. It was a more flippant motion than you’d intended.

           “See an old friend. Make some new ones. Maybe join up?” Try as you might, you couldn’t hide your giddy expectation as your gaze roamed from face to face.

           All eyes turned toward Sam Chisolm, who sat in quiet deliberation before rendering his verdict.  

           “Up to you, Goody,” Sam said as stood, crossed the room and squeezed Goodnight’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

           Something in Goodnight’s expression soured in a nearly imperceptible way; and you guessed that he hadn’t expected to have the decision placed in his hands. Your pride smarted a little, but you smiled nonetheless. You knew the Angel of Death wouldn’t deny you. And judging by the look on his face, he knew it, too.

           “I think,” Goodnight said, “That that kid would give the devil a run for his money.”

           Sounds of approval rose up from the rest of the group, and more drinks went around. You rode out with them two days later.

           “Their mama would have my hide if she knew,” Goodnight confided to Billy when you were well out of earshot.

           Billy just smiled and reflected on the way Goodnight’s accent, and your own seemed to compound each other when you were together.

***

          Most of The Seven called you “Kid,” or “The Kid.” You bit back any initial chagrin you might have felt for the moniker. There was no scorn in the use of the nickname; it was purely affection. Red Harvest called you by your given name, though; and you wondered if he was expressing some sort solidarity with you, as you took over the mantle of “youngest.”

         While you itched to prove yourself in battle, you settled in all too quickly; and after a week of riding, the road seemed to have become a place of routine. Sam and Red Harvest took the lead. Faraday and Jack rode behind them, followed by you, Billy and Goodnight; while Vasquez kept watch at the back of the party. If the road became narrow, you would all ride single file. Mountains gave way to hills. Those hills gave way to flat terrain; and the scenery became much less dynamic for that fact.

          Your eyes scanned the horizon. Unless it was a flight of fancy on your part, you could have sworn you saw an outline of a town in the distance. Your hand searched your pockets for your packet of cigarettes.        

         “Goddammit, Faraday,” you muttered when you found them missing.

         Alcohol and tobacco weren’t, strictly speaking, communal property within the group; but Faraday seemed to have a knack for borrowing those items and failing to return them. Your eyes narrowed on his back, and as though he sensed this, he turned in his saddle to face you.

        “You can get more in town, Kiddo.” The cigarette that was nestled between Faraday’s lips bobbed up and down as he spoke.

        “Gee, thank you kindly, Faraday.”

        Your southern drawl was colored with annoyance. As if sensing your mood, the paint mare you rode (the most ill-tempered creature you’d ever owned) tossed her head. With gentle tension on the reigns, you advised the horse against rash behavior. You continued to ride along in silence with the The Seven. Or was it eight, now? At your side, Billy proffered a cigarette, and you accepted gratefully. You lit it, inhaled, and decided the number was inconsequential. The pace picked up and you drew nearer to the town.

        “Y’all settle in,” Sam’s voice floated back from the front of the procession. “I’m gonna talk to the Sheriff, and we’ll all meet later.”

***

           Two days later, you found yourself sitting with Goody atop the tallest building in that little town. The place had developed a problem with a sizable pack of bandits.

           “Why am I up here, instead of down there?” That was the most pressing among the many questions you wished to ask Goodnight.

           “Sam designated our positions,” Goodnight said as he shrugged and made no attempt to look at you.

           You neither expected, nor wanted any special treatment within the group; you didn’t need to be kept safe. You inhaled a breath, ready to accuse Goodnight of intervening in Sam’s plans, but Goodnight continued before you could voice your thoughts.

           “You’re a good shot with a rifle,” he said, without taking his eyes off of his own.

           “You know, somehow, I feel like that should mean more comin’ from Goodnight Robicheaux, himself. Besides, I’d be better at ground-level.”

           “Then ain’t this the perfect opportunity to practice long-range?” Goodnight asked.

           He smiled at his own joke, but his eyes asked you, in the quietest of ways, to understand. Goodnight had been grateful that you’d been too young to truly be involved in the war, but he was not surprised that you’d grown into a life that was far more unruly than what your upbringing would have allowed. When you were small, you’d listened to innumerable adventure stories from a perch on Goodnight’s knee. Now you were living your own, and the danger was more than just a fanciful part of the plot.

           This ain’t what I wanted for you, he thought, the words stopping just shy of finding his voice. Please don’t be like me.

           “Goody, I…” You were unsure of what to say, but whatever it was went far beyond squabbling about battle tactics.

The joie de vie and gentility that you and your family had had such fondness for had not fled Goodnight in the least; but there was something else now. Or maybe it had always been there, and you’d been too young to understand. You shook your head and gave Goodnight an ear-to-ear smile that he returned without hesitation.

        “What are we doin’ here?” You asked, unable to prevent laughter from bubbling up.

        “Philosophically, or just generally?”

        “Both, I suppose?” Your voice cracked with laughter.

        “Well, you remember Old Man Thibodaux?” Goodnight asked, as his own mirth jostled his words.

       You didn’t have to delve far into your memory to recall your town’s noted curmudgeon.

      “Yeah,” you said as you raised an eyebrow at Goodnight’s conversational tack. “What about him?

      “Anyone ever tell you how he got that limp of his?”

      “Not that I recall.”

      Goodnight cradled his rifle.

       “He had this mare. Sweet little thing, but he beat her anyway. Drop of a hat. Well, one day she got fed up, and she kicked him. He was laid up for a couple months.”

       Any encounter you’d ever had with Old Man Thibodaux didn’t make you sorry or surprised to hear the story.

      “What happened to the horse?” You asked.

      “I bought her.”

      The two of you whooped and sniggered until the bandits rode into view.

      “So, here we are, then,” you said as you raised your rifle to your shoulder.  “Some swift and terrible hoof of justice?”  

      On the top of an adjacent building, Red Harvest nocked an arrow. Even at a distance his black, red and white war paint was as vibrant as it was daunting.

     “That’s more or less the size of it. Only, these boys won’t be limpin’ outta here,” Goodnight said before taking a breath and squeezing the trigger.

***

           Billy tightened a bandage around your arm, and you sucked in air through your teeth. He paused in his ministrations, and looked at you; his expression advised you not to be a baby. In return, you looked at the assassin as balefully as you dared before taking a pull on your flask of whiskey. The two of you sat on the bed, in the room that Goodnight and Billy had been sharing.

           “Could have stayed on the roof,” Billy said, remaining focused on the task at hand.

           “You know, Goody said something similar,” you confessed, as you tried to recall the particularly inventive language he had used. “Though, he heavily implied that he may as well have shot me himself.”    

           Billy smiled at this.

           “Just the same, I’m sure Vasquez appreciates it,” Billy said as he finished tying your bandage. “There. Done.”

           “Thanks,” you said, moving your arm and testing Billy’s handiwork.

           You offered Billy a drink, but he put a hand up, declining the gesture. You took another sip for yourself, and your shoulders began to relax as you felt the manic energy of battle ebb away. Your limbs felt heavier, and you became very much aware of how empty your belly felt.

           “Goody. Is he…” you began with the certainty of youthful weariness that Billy would have the answers to the questions that you didn’t quite know how to ask. “Is he…okay?”

           Billy sighed, but there was a warmth in his expression that prevented you from blurting all of the concerns you’d developed for Goodnight since you’d started sharing the road with The Seven: How sometimes Goody stared into the fire a little too deeply, like he was somewhere else entirely. How he flinched at nothing then looked to see if anyone had noticed. How he was the man you knew so many years ago, but goddammit, there was something, something, there. And maybe it wouldn’t be there if you’d been there for him, somehow. And it wasn’t fair.

           You drew your sleeve down, over your arm, and your posture sagged a little lower.

           “He’s still Goodnight,” Billy said, as though he’d seen the thoughts playing through your mind. “And he’s better off now than he’s been in the past.”

           Billy was a man of few words, but his face made it clear that he had played host to the same worries about Goodnight. You nodded, and absently turned your flask over in your hands. Its fleur de lis design reminded you of your home, and for the first time in a long time it felt far away. The two of you sat in the quiet dimness of the room.

           “How long can I expect the silent treatment to keep up?”

           Billy glanced at you, and you both shared a grin.

           “Right,” you said, stifling a yawn with the back of a hand. “He’s still Goodnight.”

           Brisk footsteps approached then stopped outside. There were two knocks, and the door opened. Goodnight entered, carrying two plates of food.

           “Thought you could use something to eat,” Goodnight said as he handed a plate to Billy, who gave a nod of gratitude.

         Goodnight handed you the second plate, but he barely spared you a glance.

        “Thank you,” you said as your stomach snarled at the scent of beans and bread.

         Goodnight made no reply, but you began to eat, displaying only the minimum amount of decorum. After pacing the length of the room several times, Goodnight sat in the chair opposite the bed. Perhaps for the first time, you noticed the lines in his face, and the silver that was starting to work its way into his hair.

         “Sam says we’ll move out in the morning,” Goodnight said, still addressing Billy.

         You paused in your chewing, and regarded Goodnight. For a horrible time, you were certain you would be excluded from the group’s departure. Goodnight’s gray eyes wandered over to you, and he allowed the silence to hang over you like a judge’s sentence.

        “All of us,” he said, at last.

[haunting-kind-of-high]

What Lies Beyond The Shadow (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: Blood, gore in general, death, pretty detailed and gory description of corpses, gore

(I did mark the gore, just in case)

Tag list: @imin-loveanon, @musicphanpie-b, @ajumbleofwords, @coolsassystudentsweetsme, @serenefreakgeek

—

A door slammed shut, waking up Logan and Patton, and probably everyone in the inn. Roman had rushed into the room the three of them shared, practically fuming.

“Roman?” Patton asked sleepily, reaching for the glasses on his nightstand. “What is going on?”

Logan stifled a yawn as he sat up, reached for his glasses and turned to the prince, who had started packing up his stuff. 

“We need to leave at once,” he managed to get out, “the Sorcerer was here. He’s gone now, but if we leave immediately, we might find out where he’s gone.”

“Roman, kiddo, calm down,” Patton said slowly, walking towards the prince and grabbing his hands to try and stop him from packing. Roman looked at the slightly older male, ready to protest, as he continued talking: 

“You need to take a deep breath and cool down a bit. You’re agitated, you shouldn’t make reckless decisions like this before you’re completely calm. Take your time to cool down.” Roman frowned. The way Patton addressed him felt patronizing to him. He was the prince of this land, for Heaven’s sake! He didn’t need to be patronized, he didn’t need to be protected. He knew perfectly well what he could do. But before he could voice any of these thoughts, Logan spoke up:

“Exactly. Besides, we don’t know when or where he will speak up again, we don’t even know where he lives. How would we know where to go?”

“We don’t have to know any of that,” Roman answered, trying to pull his hands from Patton’s grip. “You remember the note he left for me, right? He must have known we were coming! So wherever we go, I think he will be there!”

“He might not,” Logan said. 

“If we don’t try, we’ll never know,” Roman locked eyes with Patton as he spoke. The latter looked down, avoiding the Prince’s eyes as thoughts raced through his head. 

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” Patton asked softly, as if he was afraid to offend anyone with his words. He slowly looked up again, but his eyes still didn’t meet Roman’s. “You’d willingly put all the inhabitants of whatever place we’d go to in danger, just because the sorcerer might show up? He had escaped you twice now. Do you really think that won’t happen a third time? Do you really think this time will be any different?”

“I have to try it, Patton,” Roman snapped, finally freeing his hands from Patton’s surprisingly firm grasp. “Right now, everyone is in danger. We don’t know when the Sorcerer could strike again. He could show up anywhere at any given moment.” 

“But if you’re right, then visiting another town would put its inhabitants in immediate danger! Are you actually willing to sacrifice innocent lives just to have the chance to meet with the Shadow Sorcerer again?”

“It’s for a good cause,” Roman argued, “if I fight and defeat the Sorcerer, I could save millions of lives!”

“But we don’t know if you would defeat him,” Logan helped Patton, “I think you should at least make a plan before engaging.” 

Roman sighed and looked at his two advisers in front of him. He knew he couldn’t argue with them, but it didn’t feel right. Sure, Logan and Patton tried their best to help him but it wasn’t their battle to fight! He was the one who had to fight the Sorcerer. Why couldn’t he be the one to decide what they would do? But still, the prince nodded and agreed. 

“Fine. Have you got any suggestions?”

After a long day of discussing possible tactics, the trio had come up with exactly nothing. Their best plan was to ask a few of the best wielders of magic in the land to help them, but Logan quickly reminded them that they had already tried to beat Virgil, and it was impossible: his skills were unequaled. And to be fair, that was all they could think of. How does one defeat a wielder of magic as powerful as the Shadow Sorcerer without any resources to match? 

“Isn’t there a way to disable his magic?” Patton suggested. “A weakness, something that disturbs his magic abilities?” 

“Well, there is something,” Logan started, “but I cannot guarantee it will work.” “That’s better than nothing,” Roman said eagerly, “what is it?” 

Then, Logan started to explain. There was a gemstone, called the Magic Stone, or Fallar. People claimed that that gem was created by the Heavenly - or the gods - in the Early Ages, long before any human walked the earth. It was said that this gemstone had the power to absorb any magic in its surroundings. There were just two problems: Fallar was found only in the Western Highlands, a mountain range in the west of the land, and its power had never been tested. It was never confirmed, nor was it refuted. Logan himself believed it was a mere legend, but Roman and Patton immediately agreed that they had to try it. After having talked to the innkeeper about this, the three discovered that a couple that lived in Mauta, a town not far away, sold amulets that would protect one from magic. They remembered that there were a number of Fallar amulets, too. 

“Then we have to go there,” Roman stated as he looked at his two companions. The two nodded and thanked the innkeeper. They paid for their room and left to retrieve their horses. 

Two days of traveling later, the trio arrived in Mauta. The ambiance in the town was the complete opposite of Ninda. The people seemed unconcerned, even cheerful. The three left their horses in a stable near an inn and searched for the people that sold the amulets. 

After a while of searching, Patton decides to ask one of the Mautans for help. They told them where to go to find the small shop. The shop, ran by two people named Joan and Talyn, was located in a small and dark alleyway near the edge of the town. Patton thanked the girl who had helped him and he led his friends to the shop.

The alley was, indeed, small, dark and sketchy, but nonetheless, the three walked on and found the store. It was just as small dark as the alley. It was full of tables with small statues, necklaces, and rings.

As soon as they entered the store, two people approached them. 

“Prince Roman,” the one with an orange hat spoke as they bowed their head, “it is an honor! How may I help you?” 

“I was told you sell Fallar amulets,” Roman said as he nodded his head in response, “and I am in need of one.” 

“Of course,” they turned to their partner, “Talyn, could you retrieve them?” Talyn nodded and hurried out of the room, only to return a few moments later with a wooden box. They placed it on one of the tables and opened it. The box was filled with dark orange amulets of all sizes and shapes. 

“That is all we have, Your Highness,” Joan announced as Roman looked at the contents of the box. “Is there anything you would like?”

“That depends,” Roman answered, “is the difference in size of the gem of importance?” 

“Yes, it is, Your Highness,” Talyn answered, “the bigger the amulet, the more magic it can absorb.” 

“I see,” Roman nodded as he studied the different gemstones. His eyes quickly landed on what he believed was the biggest one; a necklace with a large orange stone in the shape of a teardrop. He reached for the necklace and carefully lifted it up, studying the gem and turning to Joan and Talyn. 

“I would like to purchase this one.” 

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Joan nodded as Talyn closed the box and brought it back to where it came from. Joan led Roman, Patton, and Logan to the counter and after they had paid for the amulet, the three left the shop. 

After they had bought the necklace, the trio got themselves a room in an inn nearby and decided to go through all their options. After a meal - the best meal they had in a while - the three went up to their room and they attempted to come up with a new plan. When they had spent multiple hours doing this, Logan suggested that they get some rest and the other two agreed. 

That night was peaceful. Roman was the first to wake up after a good night’s rest and he noticed there were no distressed screams to be heard outside and he believed that all was good. That the Sorcerer hadn’t shown up. The Prince waited for Logan and Patton to wake up and the three of them walked downstairs to get themselves some breakfast. They had just found a table and were about to sit down when the stable master ran up to them, panting. 

“I am sorry to disturb you, Your Highness,” they breathed, “but there is something I think you should see.” 

“What is it?” Roman asked, turning around to look at the person in front of him. 

“I think it would be best if I just showed you,” they responded, still trying to catch their breath. 

“Alright then,” Roman looked at Logan and Patton, “lead the way.” 

The stable master led the three males outside, in the direction of the stables. At first, Roman had suspected something had happened to his horse, but what he saw, was so much worse. The scene before him made his stomach turn and his knees weak.

(Gore coming up, if you don’t want to read this, I’d suggest you skip this bit. You won’t miss too much, just a description)

 Before him, he saw five people pinned to the wall of the stable. The first was a man, he appeared to be sixty years old. The last was a girl, probably no older than five. The only thing holding their bodies up, was a single black nail through their throat. Blood trickled down from the wounds, onto their clothes, leaving red and brown stains everywhere. It dripped onto their shoulder, to their hands and finally, it hit the cobblestones below, staining them. Some of them showed bruised on their face, shoulders or arms. Their heads hung limb to one side, eyes staring into the distance. Their fingernails were chipped and broken, fingertips bleeding, making clear that they hadn’t gone down without putting up a fight. 

(Gore over! It’s safe (: )

“Sweet Heavens,” Roman gasped as he laid eyes on the scene before him. Logan and Patton made similar sounds of disgust. Roman stumbled backward and he felt like he could throw up any minute. He quickly averted his eyes and tried to think of anything else. 

“Did no one hear anything?” Logan asked in disbelief, not taking his eyes off the five corpses before him. 

“No one,” the stable master replied, “it must have happened at night, but even then, I’m surprised we did not even hear the nails being hit into the wall.”

“That’s because they weren’t hit,” Roman muttered to himself. Logan, who stood next to the prince as he said that, looked at him in confusion. 

“What do you mean? That they magically appea- oh. You… you might be right.”  Roman raised an eyebrow at this statement and he was about to make a remark, as he noticed something sticking out of a pocket of the jacket the first corpse was wearing. He carefully approached the body and quickly grabbed the thing. It was a note, stained with old blood. Roman folded the paper open and, in the same handwriting he had seen a few days prior, he read a single word: 

Roman, 

The Prince looked up and handed the note to Logan, who quickly read it. 

“Is this the Sorcerer?” He asked as he showed Patton the note. Roman nodded. 

“But what does it mean?” Patton asked. “What does he want to say?”

“I don’t know,” Logan replied as he looked at the man next to him. He turned to Roman, who stood next to the old man’s corpse, doing anything to not look at it. “Are there any other notes?”

Roman looked at Logan for a few seconds, until he realized his friend wanted him to search the other bodies. And he did, reluctantly. He searched the other bodies and found a note on all of them. He walked back to Logan and Patton and they opened the notes. All four of the notes had just a few words scribbled on them. All in the same, messy handwriting:

Come find me,

Cursed Woods,

I’ll be waiting.

Don’t disappoint me.