You might ask "YEARS? Can you really say that?"
Yes, yes I can. Once upon a time was a young role player with many beloved characters and many stories revolving around her head. This role player one day realized that some of the characters from the different stories... matched up and could be one in the same. She found that each story was only a piece of the puzzle and carefully laid the pieces together until she got a plot and characters that fit in a wonderful fantastical adventure. This would be the third attempt to start it to date(excluding the beginning of the several stories on their own, in which case it would be like, the 15th). But I believe I finally have it down.

Those who have role played with me will recognize several characters. Such as the druid Vincent, the ranger Gain(pronounced guy-in), Briella, Wolfe and maybe even a few others that I have forgotten.

The world:
Parts of the story are in our world, parts are in a world that I started creating even before the story. I am currently a freshman in college, and the original map was drawn my first year in Middle-School. Slowly the map has changed, though, but has grown immensely, and is still growing. It started on a page of regular sketch book paper, and got transfered to yet a bigger piece of paper, and bigger paper till I didn't have a piece of paper big enough to have the whole map and still have the details I wanted. So I went to photoshop where the map is continually growing even now.

Here is a current map of the world of Dragonscar. (Note: This is a pretty big image. We're talking a 7000x5000 pixel image. I'm giving you a heads up in case your computer doesn't like loading giant pictures.)

http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g111/ ... apcopy.jpg

Welcome to Dragonscar

Prologue


“I demand an audience with the king!” the clear voice was loud enough to be heard through the heavy ornate oak doors and echo through the spacious room beyond. A few men glanced towards the doors, a couple servants shrunk back as they scurried about their work, but other than that, the voice was ignored, as if a common occurrence. There came the muffled reply of a second voice, this one notably deeper, but what was said could not be made out. The noise of the great hall inside the doors that had died down at the voice now continued. The shuffling of booted feet against tile ground, the creaking of leather, fingers leafing through paper and hushed but urgent voices.
“We should wait till spring to send a battalion through the mountain pass, that way we risk less casualties on the road to Cranes. With winter around the corner the snows will be to harsh for soldiers to march through and have strength for a raid upon coming out the other side,” a lean man with dark brown hair crowned with a circlet of gold marking him crown prince and narrow features said, pointing to a map laid across the great table that was set in the center of the room, looking up at the person he spoke to that stood at the head of the table. Deep lines of thought creased the corners of that man’s mouth and between his eyebrows below the jeweled crown that sat atop the hair that matched the man that spoke to him.
“That may be best, but I will not have the western forces idle all through the winter or they will be fat sluggards come warmer weather,” the king growled, great arms crossed over a barrel chest. A single hand reached up to stroke a beard streaked with grey.
“May I suggest building a series of outposts in the mountains, my liege,” a third man at the table said, tapping a finger on the ink carefully drawn on the paper of the mountain range. The king considered the idea for a long moment when the great oak doors swung open with a great creak. All the men at the table looked up at the two people that came through the door, making their way closer.
“Sir, I told you, you are not allowed to enter while the war council is commencing. My father forbade anyone interrupt the meeting,” one of the people told the other. A boy with sandy blonde hair, and a tall, lanky body barely out of puberty, and a circlet of silver on his brow. The circlet signifying that he was a prince, but not a crown prince. His voice was already deep and he had been the reply on the other side of the door. He walked barely steps behind the first person, which paid no heed to him.
“Sir Briella, what is the meaning of this?” the king boomed, the displeasure of being interrupted written plainly across his features. The intruder stopped a few feet from the table and stared up at the king’s eyes with stubborn grey ones.
“I demand an explanation,” the woman pushed for, her voice sharp. Her hand was on the handles of the curved daggers in their sheaths on her outer thighs.
“You will have to wait for an audience with the king, champion knight or no,” the crown prince replied to her demands, pushing himself away from the table and standing to his full height, almost looming over the woman. “King Breadon does not appreciate being disturbed in this manner. Especially not someone,” and here the crown prince gave a disapproving glance at the woman’s attire, her long flame colored hair in disarray and her armor dented and smeared with blood, “who still has the stink of battle upon them. You-“
He was cut off as the king raised a hand for silence then twitched his fingers in a silent command as guards came to stand on either side of Briella. “My sons are correct that I do not appreciate being interrupted. Guards, escort Sir Briella to her chamber,” Breadon said, then looked back down to the map as if the matter was through. The guards went to grasp her arms, but she stepped away from them and towards the table, pointing a finger at Breadon.
“There were no soldiers in the village,” her voice was shrill and accusing. “Not even a single foot soldier or guard. It was all women, children, elders, and farmers. They were defenseless. There was no reason to attack, because they were ready to surrender. I called the men off but they said that they had orders to kill everyone. Under your orders my men massacred an entire innocent town.”
Breadon sat and listened to her in silence, not looking up. When she was done he simply nodded his head to the guards who grabbed hold of her arms, pulling her hands behind her back. “I foresaw this. I knew you would not complete the mission so I gave your men orders to undermine you if you drew back. For quite some time I have seen this coming, your betrayal.”
A look of pain crossed Briella’s face at the words. She struggled against the hands that held her. “For years I have followed you, followed every order to the letter. Gone on countless missions, taken countless lives, all for you and in your name. And then I question the moral of one order and you call me a betrayer? At least explain to me why so much innocent blood was spilt so that I may understand.”
“You have been loyal to me since they day I knighted you, very well then. The country of Tartrate has been lax in its tributes, and decided that I’m not worth considering as a threat. A lesson needed to be taught. The lesson that no one is below justice, and it was a warning of what would happen if they did not continue the tributes as they had been originally planned.
“But now there is still the fact of you undermining my orders. No one is above punishment, and your punishment would either be death or lashings, neither of which I would wish upon you, one of my best. So I will give you a chance of redemption. There is a small fishing village in Topaz Bay named Aare. My spies tell me that they are secretly building ships for the Tartrate navy, as well as using the food that they leave out of their tributes to give to the Tartrate army, which is building a rebellion against me. I need you to take your men and remove this problem. Another lesson must be taught,” King Breadon had come to stand in front of Briella who was still held tight by the guards. Her grey eyes were locked with his hazel ones and for a long drawn out silence; it was as if there was a battle of wills. Finally the lock was broken as Briella spat down, her spittle landing on the king’s shoe.
“I see the truth now. You are nothing but a war mongering tyrant just looking for the smallest excuse to spill blood, even if it means coming up with lies. Aare does not have the means to do what it is you claim they are doing,” she sneered, then felt a sudden force on her cheek that caused her head to turn to the side, hair flying into her face, leaving a stinging sensation on her cheek. The king now stood with palm in the air after having slapped Briella at her words.
“With my right hand I slap your cheek, leaving the brand of a traitor and defiler of my honest name. With my left I remove your signature of status, taking all titles, standings, and land,” Breadon grasped the brooch that held Briella’s cloak in place and removed it, letting the cloth fall to the ground. “You are to be held in the dungeon, shackled arms apart to the walls, until a date is chosen for your punishment of your crimes. May the King of Fate have mercy on your soul.”
With that king Breadon went back to his place at the head of the table as the guards began pulling Briella away back towards the great oak doors. The young blonde haired prince looked on in complete shock, glancing from the king his father, to the struggling Briella.
“Aaron,” the king addressed the boy. “Return to your duties. Your brother Donovan, the war council, and I still have important business to discuss.”
“I was hoping I could sit in and listen and learn,” Aaron started, not moving.
“You are not crown prince, you have no reason to learn these things,” his older brother, Donovan snapped, making Aaron shrink back.
“Peace, Donovan. One day he will be your general, one day he will have to learn, but not today. Aaron, return to your duties. You will have your day soon,” Breadon said. Aaron nodded, and ran out of the room, pulling the doors shut behind him. The guards on the other side didn’t even give him a second glance, and the ones with Briella had already managed to get out of sight, but noises of struggling could still be heard.
Briella still fought, no longer willing to give her life so easily to the king she once served. Several times she had started mumbling an incantation, her voice rising and falling in rhythm as glowing markings appeared about her feet, but every time one of the guards punched her stomach or slapped her face, forcing her to stop and start over. They had managed to remove her weapons as they went, but she still fought. Being three and each stronger, they had the upper hand.
More guards came from a smaller side passage, hearing the clamor the struggle made. At first these guards were confused at seeing one of the king’s greatest knights being held by the royal guards. One of the guards turned on the men who just stood there watching.
“You lot, help us. It’s the king’s orders. Get some shackles, and somebody please gag her,” he snapped at them, putting a gloved hand over her mouth as she attempted to recite another spell. He could feel her trying to bite, but the leather of his glove was too thick to reach his skin. He only dug his fingers in her cheeks, against her teeth, forcing her to stop biting as more guards hurried to follow orders.
The prince had caught up to them by now, and watched as one of the guards pulled a pair of shackles from a leather thong on his belt and clasped the irons around the woman’s wrists behind her back as another grabbed a cloth from a passing servant. The hand was removed from her mouth, but she had no time to react as the cloth was shoved into her mouth and tied painfully tight around her head, the knock pulling her hair as she struggled.
With the shackles and gag, it then only took two guards to handle the woman, one for each arm, and without much trouble. But the royal guards continued following through their commands and flanked them as they headed at a faster pace down the halls towards the dungeon. The young prince just stood there, staring with wide eyes. He ignored the servants and castle staff that passed him with worried glances, or mumbled whispers about what the great ruckus in the halls had been about.
A heavy hand was placed on Prince Aaron’s shoulder, pulling him out of his shock, and back to full awareness. He looked up to see one of the king’s other knights. A fair-haired man with squared features and dull colored eyes and a crooked nose.
“Sir Dante,” Prince Aaron said, curtly bowing his head in recognition of the other, but not completely bowing since he was a prince, while the other was only a knight in service to him. The knight, with his hand still on the prince’s shoulder, in turn gave a bow with his other hand on the growling hound embossed on the chest plate of the armor he wore.
“My prince, you look a little discombobulated at the time being. One of your status should not stand there with a gaping mouth as if to catch flies,” Dante chuckled, a hearty sound from the tall man. A rosy color shaded the prince’s cheeks at the comment, as he sniffed once and straightened his back.
“You are right, Sir Dante. Thank you for reminding me of my place. Waste not time, for it is quickly lost, as mother –I mean the late Queen, may her soul soar in the heavens, would often say,” Aaron said with a snappy nod of his head, attempting to make his voice sound more authoritative. But a crack in his maturing voice took away his serious intentions behind the words. Dante’s lips grew long and then, and his eyes sparkled as he attempted not to laugh in front of the prince. Aaron’s cheeks grew hotter. “Err, as wonderful as your company is, Sir Dante, I have duties to attend. I will be seeing you.”
“Quick to work, and a hard worker at that. A great trait for a future captain, I will see you, your majesty,” Dante said after the retreating prince. Once Aaron was around the corner and out of sight, the knight’s smile manage to break loose, for only a moment as a great sound jarred the walls. Everyone who frequented the lower levels of the castle recognized it, it was the sound of the heavy iron door that led down to the dungeon slamming close tightly as it’s newest tenant was being taken to the deep darkness that was home to the vilest of criminals and highest of traitors.


It was so dark in the catacombs, lit only by the dim flickering lights of scattered cast iron torches mounted on the rough brick walls. And these were lined up only in the hallways between the cells. The cell themselves were yet darker, having no light source of their own, and little could seep through the heavy oak door with cast iron bars enforcing them. Being under the castle, there was no crevice, no window for any kind of light to seep through. The dungeon was also dirty, the smooth floor basically dirt, the gritty walls rough to the touch, with rats crawling along the corners, leaving their feces. Having to stay in such a place, being fed peasant’s left overs for meals, was punishment enough for a man, but not so in the king’s eyes. Because of this, the king hired the worst of men to be the keeper of the dungeon. A grizzly man that took joy in the pain of others and went out of his way to make the prisoners suffer even more because they were scum in every man’s eyes, and as such should be treated that way.
So this place became Gabriella’s new residence as her hands were bound in chains on the walls, as well as her ankles. The cloth gag was left in her mouth to prevent her from using magic to escape her imprisonment. The armor she had worn was removed, leaving her only in a cloth tunic and trousers, as well as leaving her boots on her feet.
That was how Aaron found her the next day when he opened her cell door, a platter in his hands. Her head hung low and her cloths filthy. She looked up at him with her grey eyes, the fight and fire still there, though her movements were slow and tired. Aaron glanced behind him at the guards that stood there, and motioned with his head for them to back off.
“I can handle myself, she is chained,” he told them, and entered without waiting for a reply. He walked forward, placing the platter, which held a slice of stale bread, on the ground in front of Briella. He proceeded to untie her gag, speaking as he did so. “Father said that I will be the one to feed you for the time being; and to give you a chance to repent your deeds and at least be taken out of these dungeons. Now, don’t think that you can speak a spell and escape. One of the guards outside is a druid and would be able to stop you before you got to the door. So don’t get any ideas.”
Briella just watched him, not saying a word. She didn’t think she would be able to; her throat was too dry since she hadn’t had anything to drink since before her audience with the king. In fact, not seeing any water with the prince lowered her spirits even more. The prince slowly worked and broke off a small piece of the bread, holding it to Briella’s lips. She allowed him to push it into her mouth, and chewed, but her throat was too dry to swallow and when she tried, she just started coughing.
That’s when Aaron pulled out a wine skin that had been slung over his shoulder that she had not seen at first. With the prince’s help, she drank deep. Finally she indicated that she was done drinking, and Aaron went back to breaking apart the bread, beginning to talk again.
“My father says that if you apologize, that you will be allowed to work for him again. Your rank won’t be returned, of course, but you can work in the regular militia, with a small wage enough to find a cheap place to stay in the city. Not as good as how you used to live, but better than staying here,” the prince said, though Briella didn’t say anything for the longest time. Finally she replied as he was breaking apart the last little bit of bread.
“Tell your father that I will never work for a warmongering tyrant even if it means living the rest of my life chained in this filthy pit, having no choice but the defile myself, and being sullied by that pig the dungeon warden every night,” Briella spat, though the venom in her voice was not directed to the boy as she stared into his eyes, seeing the shock and surprise in them. There was a question on his lips but he didn’t get to ask because Briella was already giving the answer. “What, do you think the warden would leave be the first female tenant in his dungeon in years?”
“Still, it is not right! I will have a word with the warden, and if he continues, he will be the one in chains,” Aaron said with determination, his words somehow bringing a dry chuckle from Briella, which turned into a cough. The prince offered more wine, but she refused it with a shake of her head.
“You, your majesty, are nothing like your father. You take after your mother, both in gentle personality and looks. It’s almost a shame you aren’t first born, you would make a good king. Like the one who came before your father,” Briella said softly, one corner of her mouth pulled back in a half smile.
“You mean my grandfather?” Aaron inquired.
“No, your grandfather wasn’t king. In fact, your father wasn’t even directly related to the royal blood line, and that was the reason he was able to take the throne when the old king died,” Briella told Aaron. “You need to brush up on your history, your majesty.”
The prince gave a confused look, but nodded. One of the guards came to stand in the doorway. “Prince Aaron, it’s about time to head back,” he said, before going back to his post. Aaron sighed at that, and finished feeding the rest of the bread to Briella before wordlessly replacing her gag and leaving her in the dank darkness.
Three days this happened. Aaron would come and feed Briella, asking the same question from his father, always getting the same answer. Then Aaron would ask Briella more about what she thought of her father and how he had become king, but she got to the point where she refused to answer, saying it would be better for him to look into it himself so he could get an unbiased answer. Every day the prince would depart with an empty platter in a grim silence leaving her alone chained in her cell.
The night before the fourth day, as Briella would find out later since she did not know day from night or have a grasp of the passing of time in that unchanging cell, the routine changed. There was a great clatter in the hallways along with yelling and clashing of metal. There were hurried footsteps instead of the slow walk that was usually heard. Her cell door swung open with a clatter, and Briella looked up to see not the prince or the warden, but a cloaked figure with a bloodied sword. The man came towards her and pulled the gag from her mouth, letting the cloth drop to the ground.
“Are you here to kill me? The king decide to assassinate me since I won’t give in?” Briella said ruefully, her voice barely a weak croak.
“Don’t be idiotic, Sir Briella. I’m here to get you out,” came the familiar voice of Dante. A smirk spread across her lips.
“Well, looks like I’m not the only traitor in King Breadon’s court.”

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

I LOVE YOUR MAP! I need to make a map for my book.... er..haha... i know i got it published but it still doesn't have a map...

_________________


Doctor banner by Crutchie! Avatar by Erin Vanya!
Married the Tenth Doctor 2/26/12

That is actually a VERY compressed version of the map. Here's a dropbox link where anyone can download the full version of the map. You can zoom in pretty close with this one and keep really good quality so you can read the names of places:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/r9plntd6kumxi ... ap.png.zip

~~~~

Chapter 1


The skies were dark and covered in clouds, blocking the late afternoon sun. The clouds cried, letting thick raindrops fall and soak the ground and anything that did not take shelter. A heavy rain often accompanied by the grumble of thunder and the clap of lighting across the sky. The storm showed no sign of letting up anytime soon, either, over the small town. People ran to get inside from their cars when they reached their destination, trying not to get wet, but getting their head and shoulders drenched anyway.
School busses drove down the water logged streets, dropping students off who either ran for dear life or walked through the rain, enduring it. One of these busses stopped and dropped off two girls at the end of a long gravel driveway. One attempted to cover her head with a jacket as she walked quickly, the other ran down the driveway, but both headed in the same direction. They stepped onto the covered front porch and caught their breath, laughing. One of them, a short girl with long strawberry blonde hair and green eyes pulled out a key and worked on unlocking the door to the two story white washed farm house.
They entered the house as soon as the door was open and went to the dinning room where they put their book bags down, talking the whole time as the storm continued to rage outside. The other girl, who was tall and skinny with pale blonde hair and blue eyes and narrow features followed her friend up a flight of stairs into a bedroom where they changed into dry cloths before going back down into the dinning room and pulling books and notebooks from their book bags.
“Thanks for coming over Dracy,” the strawberry blonde said as she placed the empty book bag on the back of one of the chairs for it to dry. “I hate being in this creepy old house alone after school.”
“Hey, it’s what friends are for,” the blonde, Dracy, replied cheerily. “I mean, hey we may have only met like three days ago, but I totally understand that. It’s just me and my dad at home, and sometimes he works late so I’m in that house alone.”
“My mom always works late, and I don’t like this house, it feels weird. I don’t know how, but it just does,” the other replied with a sigh, plopping into one of the chairs, and flipping open a notebook.
“What, is it haunted or something? Cool, a haunted house! Hello? Any ghost around here that can talk to us?” Dracy laughed, sitting down in her own seat. “Come on, maybe it’s because you’re not used to the place. You’ve been living here how long, a week at most? And you said you came from an apartment in the city, so of course it’s a weird transition going to a big old house in the boondocks. Especially one where the last person living here suddenly disappears without a trace.”
“Hey, that was my grand father,” came a quick reply, which wiped the smile from Dracy’s face.
“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Rose,” Dracy replied.
“It’s alright. I wasn’t close to him anyway. Mom always thought he belonged in an insane asylum or something, anyway. Said he had dementia at a young age. Speaking of which, our English teacher is demented, with this stupid homework she gave us,” Rose quickly changed the subject to the homework laid out in front. She gave a face of displeasure, making Dracy chuckle a bit. So the two got to work on their homework together. Rose got up and grabbed some snacks from the kitchen, so that they could munch while they worked.
The storm continued outside, and eventually a car pulled into the driveway, followed by a thin woman walking into the door of the house. She had shoulder length grown hair, currently dripping wet, with roots that indicated that she had the same color hair as Rose. She headed straight upstairs after stepping out of her shoes, and it wasn’t long before the sounds of a shower started up.
As soon as Rose’s mother had walked in, the two girls fell silent until the woman was upstairs, in which case their conversations went on as if they hadn’t stopped. It wasn’t long before their work was done and they packed up their bags and went to the living room. Dracy sat down on the couch while Rose went to the television, turning it on and giving off a list of movies that they had.
“Since we don’t have cable installed yet,” Rose explained, and noticed that Dracy was barely paying attention. She was too busy staring at a large mirror that covered most of one wall. Rose went over and waved a hand in front of Dracy’s face, which blinked a few times and looked up at her. “You okay?” Rose asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just get a weird feeling from that mirror,” Dracy apologized, and shifted in the couch so she was facing the television with mostly having her back to the mirror. “So, you don’t have cable or dish? Well, you haven’t been here too long. Just a movie sounds good. Which ones do you have again?” Dracy’s words made Rose giggle.
“Don’t worry, that mirror gives me the heebie jeebies. I swear I see ghostly faces in it that shouldn’t be there sometimes. Like I said, I think the house is haunted. Anyway, these are the movies we have,” Rose went over to the television again and started listing them off. She had just finished naming the last title when there was an extra loud crack of thunder and the lights went out, the television turning off.
Both girls were frozen for a long time, having suddenly been left in complete darkness. There was the sound of movement followed by a dull thud and then the sound of Rose taking a sharp intake of breath.
“Are you okay?” Dracy’s voice could be heard in the darkness. She shifted in her chair, and went to get up to see if she could help.
“Yeah, hold on, there’s a flashlight in the kitchen. Let me go get it, you stay there, I’ll be right back,” Rose said, carefully making her way out of the room, leaving Dracy alone with the sounds of the storm raging outside. Dracy waited for what felt like forever in that darkness before Rose came back with a flashlight.
“Well, so much for watching a movie,” Dracy joked, though there was almost a nervous tightness in her voice as she bit her lip and stood up, straightening her shirt. “Um, I should probably change back into my cloths and head home. Make sure everything is okay.”
Rose gave a depressed sigh at that, but gave a solemn nod and led the way upstairs with the flashlight. “You should at least let my mom drive you. It’s a long way to walk in this storm. You’ll get sick before you get half way there,” she said. “Speaking of which, mom is probably freaking out in the shower, but I think she had candles in the bathroom so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
So Dracy changed into the cloths she had worn to school, having borrowed some dry cloths from Rose so she didn’t have to do homework in wet ones. Jeans, white T-shirt, black vest is what made up today’s wardrobe for Dracy, complete with wrists covered in bracelets and her hair tied in a tight braided bun on the back of her head. When she was dressed, the two stepped out of the room to find Rose’s mom there holding a lit candle.
“You two all right?” she asked the teenagers, who nodded.
“Hey mom, could you take Dracy home? She needs to get going, but it’s raining outside,” Rose asked, putting her hands palms together in front of her, and tilting her head as she gave a small toothy smile with pleading eyes.
“You can’t just spend the night?” came the reply with a frown. “I mean it would be alright with me if you stayed the night here.”
“Sorry Miss Valkyrie, but I really should be headed home. If the power is out, dad will want me home,” Dracy replied, giving an apologetic expression. Rose’s mom sighed.
“Alright, let me get my shoes and coat,” she said, heading downstairs. Rose and Dracy followed to the door where they went to the dining room, where Dracy grabbed her bag.
“Thanks for coming over for a little while. It was nice not having to be here alone for once,” Rose told her as they went back to the door where her mom was putting on her shoes.
“No problem, sorry I can’t stay longer. But I’ll see you at school tomorrow, alright?” Dracy replies, opening the door. The rain was falling in sheets, making a constant hissing as it pelted the ground, a sound broken only when the occasional clap of thunder.
“Yeah, tomorrow. Early, but no promises on being bright,” Rose chuckled, Dracy laughing with her before saying a final good bye as Rose’s mother was ready. The two darted out the door, running for the car. Soon the vehicle was on and pulling out of the driveway, with Rose standing in the doorway of the house, watching them leave. With a shiver she closed the door and ran up to her room where she lit a few more candle along with having her flashlight for extra light.
The car ride was quiet for the most part, aside from the sounds of the rain slapping against the windshield and the wipers doing their best going back and forth to keep it clear. The radio was left off, so Dracy took to staring out the window, making sure to give the driver the proper direction to get to her house. Part way there, Rose’s mother cleared her throat and spoke up.
“So, has Rose told you about any of her dreams?” she asked Dracy. The blond frowned, and glanced over to the woman driving, a bit surprised by the random question.
“No, she didn’t mention anything about any dreams,” Dracy replied.
“Well, I think it’s mostly because she’s stressed from my dad disappearing and us moving into his old house forcing her into a new school with new people. I’m glad she found a friend so quickly, but she told me yesterday that every night since we’ve moved into that house that she’s been having strange dreams,” the woman explained, the worry heavy in her voice.
“Weird. Any dancing sugar plum fairies or pirates riding motorcycles?” Dracy asked sarcastically, not entirely sure why Rose’s mom was talking to her about this. She guessed maybe because it was just having someone to talk to.
“No, nothing like that,” came the reply. “Rose told me these dreams were extremely realistic and all somewhat similar. She said she dreams that she’s the same girl every night, someone who looks a lot like her but lives in some medieval estate as a stable girl or something. She said it’s ‘like living through the day of your average historical stable girl’ or something like that. Says she once woke up and said her room smelt like the place where she was in her dreams, but after awhile the smell goes away. I’ve never heard of anything like this before, and it worries me. Rose is getting more tired every day, like she’s not getting any rest at all even though she’s sleeping a solid eight hours.”
Dracy didn’t know what to say to that, biting her lip, and looking out the window to the darkness beyond, lit in regular circles on the road by the street lights. “I don’t know what to say, Ms. Valkyrie. But maybe it has something to do with the house and stress. Like, Mister Ben’s place looks like it’s from a different time, you know? Mister Ben was always the eccentric like that, always going off about some fairy tale or something.”
This got a sigh from Rose’s mother. “Maybe the house is what made my dad crazy, then. If it has weird vibes or something, and it’s doing the same to Rose. Oh, I hope not. I really don’t want to have to move again. Not when I just found a good job.”
“Uh, turn here, my house is the second on the left, right there with the brick mailbox,” Dracy said, changing to subject, not knowing what else to say about it. She almost wanted to reply sarcastically that maybe crazy just ran in the family, but skipped a generation, but kept her mouth shut. It wouldn’t help the situation any and she didn’t know how this woman would react to it. So there was silence as the car pulled into the driveway of the small single story house.
Dracy thanked Rose’s mother before make a mad dash through the pouring rain to her front porch where she pulled out her house key and was about to unlock it, when she realized it was already unlocked. Opening the door, she turned and waved to the car, which then started backing out of the driveway and heading off down the street.
The blond girl entered her house, closing the door behind her. It was nearly pitch black in there; maybe the power was out like it had been at Rose’s. The door had been unlocked, so her father had to be there, she figured. She found the wall next to the door and felt along her to her way to the living room, dropping her bag, and feeling for the light switch. It wouldn’t hurt to check, but then if her father weren’t home, then why would he leave all the lights off?
With a click, the ceiling light turned on, causing Dracy to be stunned for a moment by the sudden light, closing her eyes. She blinked a few times until her eyes to adjust to the light, but when she did, she stepped back gasping, her hands covering her mouth.
The living room in front of her was trashed, with signs of someone frantically looking for something. Drawers from desks and side tables were all pulled open and half the contents on the floor, all the cushions ripped open and torn through. Books were thrown all over the places, all the shelves nearly completely cleared. The only picture that had been on the wall, a picture of Dracy and her dad together when she was a baby, lay broken on the floor. From there, Dracy had a view of the connected kitchen, and she could see all the cabinet doors and drawers wide open and everything thrown about just like in the living room. It wasn’t her dad that was home; it was a robber.
Dracy pulled out her cell phone, hands shaking violently, and started dialing the emergency contact number. There was a clap of thunder outside, and the lights went out for a split second before flickering back on, but now Dracy felt frozen in place. Something was different now. She forced herself to look up and nearly jumped out of her skin, screaming at the top of her lungs.
She wasn’t sure if she just hadn’t noticed him earlier or if he really just appeared there, but now there was a man standing in the middle of the living room facing her. All black leather cloths, but not shiny skintight leather, but rather loose, old worn leather, battered at the edges. Including mud covered boots. A black cloak obscured most of his form, though he was tall and slender, with jet back hair that went passed his shoulders, pale skin with smooth features. What stunned Dracy the most was his eyes, blood red eyes that she could not look away from, that felt like they pierced into her very soul and read her mind. She tried to speak, tried to move, but all she could do was stand there, the phone that had been in her hand dropping to the floor.
“Where is it?” the man growled, lifting his upper lip as if snarling like a dog, revealing two sharpened canine teeth. He took a step forward, making Dracy flinch back, but she couldn’t draw her eyes away from his eyes, it was almost as if they were glowing. “Where is it?” He demanded again when no answer came.
Dracy shook her head, not sure of what he was talking about. Then there was a sudden rush of movement. The man came at her, grabbing her by the front of her shirt and slamming her back into the wall hard, forcing Dracy to gasp for breath. He held her there against the wall, sharp nails digging through her cloths and into the skin of her chest.
“You stupid girl! You must know where your father hid it! You’re the dragon-back, you should be able to tell where it is!” the man hissed, clawing deeper into her skin. Dracy squeezed her eyes shut, teeth gritted tight as she tried her best not to scream out. All she could do was shake her head. The pressure on her chest lessened, and Dracy felt a hot breath in her ear and heard the man whisper. “If you don’t tell me, then there is only one use for you. To tear you to pieces in front of your father to make him tell me where he hid the Dragonscar!”
Tears started rolling down Dracy’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Please, it hurts, let go! I don’t know anything!” she cried, her heart beating fast in her chest. The man’s grip tightened and she heard a growl of anger.
“Fine, then where is your father? He will know, and you must know where he is,” the man snapped, taking his other hand and brushing hair and cloths away from her neck and running a fingernail up and down where the main artery ran. “You had better tell me. It would be unfortunate if I were to blemish this pretty little neck. Wouldn’t want you to live in an eternity of night being tortured and mutilated without being able to die, now would you?”
There was a sadistic chuckle that came from deep within his throat, but it was just a cover for the aggravation he felt at Dracy’s ignorance. Dracy felt herself starting to tremble, and starting to think this was some sort of nightmare. Or maybe this man was escaped from an insane asylum. The things he said, the way he acted, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. But either way, she had to say something, or she feared he was going to go through with whatever psychotic ideas were going through his head.
“I don’t know!” It was the only answer she could give, it was the truth, after all. “He was supposed to be here! If not, I don’t know where he is!”
The man didn’t like that answer. His grip tightened around her as he came forward, mouth wide. Dracy felt lips touch her neck, waiting for a sharp pain. But just as suddenly as he had come forward at her, he went flying away from her. She felt his grasp on her release and her back sliding down against the wall till she was sitting down, tears streaming down her face. Dracy managed to force herself to look up; her vision blurred from the tears welled in her eyes, as she heard the man who had assailed her hiss.
But he wasn’t hissing at her, but a second man that now stood in the room. A little bit shorter man, with broad shoulders and strong build. He wore a worn brown duster that went down to his mid calf, blue jeans and boots, brown shirt underneath, and a wide brimmed leather hat. Around his neck hung a big tooth on a leather cord; his hair was brown and red just short of being shoulder length. His face was crisscrossed with thin white scars along with the brown shadowing of the start of a beard along his chin and cheeks. In his hands he held a thick wooden staff, which he pointed towards her assailant.
“What are you doing here Morcun?” the man with the staff demanded of the attacker, who in turn gave a wide grin, though hate flared in his eyes.
“I’m here to take what should be mine!” Morcun replied venomously. “And the likes of you won’t stop me, Farstride.”
“I know why you’re here, and you know that’s not what I meant,” Farstride replied, not taking his eyes off of Morcun. The vampire’s grin widened.
“The gate keeper has disappeared, replaced by some ignorant fools. It was so easy to slip through and come here and finally get what I’ve been searching for. Now all that stands in my way is you, and Zero,” Morcun replied, then across his face came the look of a man with a great idea. In one motion he backed up to Dracy, picking her up by her hair and grabbing her throat. She gave a cry of surprise and pain, being forced to stand or have her hair pulled at even more. “I doubt you’re the kind to idly watch while an innocent girl is turned and violated, and with your knowledge of this world, I think you know where the Dragonscar is. So let’s deal. You tell me where it is and hand it over, and I don’t violently ruin the dragon-back’s life.”
Farstride stood there a long moment, glaring at Morcun, as if waiting for an opportunity, but one never came. So, he had to make one. His icy blue eyes met her fear filled eyes. “Trust me,” he told her, but did not give her a chance to say anything else before jumping into movement. He ran forward, thrusting the end of his staff up and away from his body in a smooth movement. The butt of the staff landed squarely in Morcun’s chin just above Dracy’s right shoulder. The vampire let go of the girl out of surprise and found himself staggering backwards until his back hit the wall. Farstride then grabbed Dracy around the waist and jumped back, putting space between them and Morcun who was quickly recovering from the blow. Farstride placed Dracy down and stood between her and Morcun, staff out in front of him ready for a fight.
Morcun gave a bitter chuckle as he considered what to do, glancing almost casually at Farstride and Dracy. “As expected, a man of few words, but great action,” he said dully, and then lifted his hands up, by his head, palms forward in surrender. “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave and go back for now. But mark my words, I will get my prize one way or another.”
The man turned away and made his way over to the door, opening it up before stopping and glancing behind him. “Until we meet again Farstride and Miss dragon-back,” he said, and then was gone from the doorway out to the raging storm outside, leaving the door hanging open. A gust of wind swept through the house, stirring up papers and playing at the two’s hair and cloths.
Farstride appeared to relax; setting the staff upright and holding it like a walking stick. He then turned to Dracy, who was staring at the door with wide eyes, visibly trembling. She blinked a few times and looked up at the man who was a stranger to her. Yet he gave her a friendly smile like one would give an old friend. He placed a strong, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You’re alright,” he told her calmly. Her bottom lip trembled as she worked on being able to speak through the shock of it all. Finally she found her voice, shaky and small now.
“My dad, where is he. That man, who, what was it he wanted? What’s going on? Who are you? Dad…” tears started falling down her face again, but Farstride wiped them away with a thumb.
“Hey, no crying now. We don’t have time for that. Things have been set in motion. You need to be strong, alright? Be strong for your dad, who, before you ask, has gone missing. I don’t know where he is now, or how you might be able to find him. But that is the reason why I’m here. I’m Peter, Peter Farstride. I’m a very old friend of your fathers. He asked me to keep an eye on you should anything happen. That man was Morcun, a vampire not from around here. He’s after something very special, but he searches in vain because it is in a place that can never be accessed, locked away from everyone,” Farstride explained, his voice becoming filled with an urgent tone. The time for condolences had quickly passed, and it was now a time for action.
“Wait, what? A vampire? You mean they’re real? But, I…” Dracy went on, trying to make sense of everything, having to take in a lot at once.
“Well, not here they don’t. They’re supposed to be in the other world where you and your father come from,” Peter tried to explain.
“What do you mean other world? What is this, mass psycho day? Vampires? Dragonscars? Other worlds?” Dracy said, her voice rising in pitch. Peter’s hand went back to her shoulder and squeezed tightly to silence her.
“I don’t have time to sit and explain everything right now. But you know more than anyone that you don’t belong here. He called you the dragon-back, and you didn’t even flinch. Why? Because you know what he meant. The traits of a dragon are on your back. Scales, retractable wings, the urge to collect shiny objects. All side effects of passing through the gate to this world at a young age with the Dragonscar.”
Peter’s words forced Dracy to fall silent and consider this as true. Because he was right about her strange traits. Her father had never explained it, just told her to hide it and that one-day she would understand. Dracy still wasn’t sure she understood now that it was being explained to her. So, she didn’t come from this place? Anyone could plainly see the wheels in her head trying to turn on understand by the look on her face. Peter shook Dracy’s shoulders, bringing her out of her thoughts.
“One more thing that happened was you were given the special ability to go between worlds without the need of the gate. Which is something you must do now. If your father is anywhere, it’s in the other world. You have to go there, and find him. You will need to find the man named Shinyo first because he will help you. He can be found in Haven, which if done right, will be where you end up. Also, try to find Benjamin Valkyrie; he may have disappeared to the other world as well. Tell them what happened here and they will understand and know what to do,” Peter explained quickly, almost loosing Dracy with all she had to take in. He saw this, so emphasized one thing by repeating it. “Find Shinyo at Haven. He will help you.”
“But, how do I do that?” Dracy asked, not questioning the idea of there being another world at this point after he pointed out her difference. She tried wiping the tears from her face, sniffing. If she was going to do this, she had to stop crying. “And can’t you come with me? If you’re supposed to help me, then come with me and help me.”
Peter shook his head. “I can’t. Don’t ask why; just know that I will be here when you return to this world. Now, do exactly as I tell you and you should be able to end up in Haven properly. But first, I have something to give you,” he dug into his duster pocket and pulled out a fist sized, bronze statue of a dragon. Dracy frowned when she saw it.
“That’s my father’s. It disappeared a week ago, how did you get it?” she demanded.
“Your father gave it to me to give to you. You might think it’s just a decorative ornament, but when you go to the other world, you will find out about its true purpose. I can’t be there, but Nelnya here, can. Keep it close to you, and you’ll be able to bring it to the other world with you. Now, we had better get you on your way,” Peter handed the statue to Dracy. He stepped back, leaning on his staff, and started telling her what she needed to do.
Dracy closed her eyes, consecrating on her back. Doing so, she felt a pull at her back, at her body, as she felt something detach itself from her back and stretch out behind her, tearing the back of her cloths. Two pale bat-like wings stretched out behind her to their full length of six feet each. She nearly touched the wall behind her. Then she placed a word in her mind. Haven. She focused on that word, and then imagined a door in front of her like Peter told her to do. In her mind’s eye the door opened to a forest. She felt a tug of wind all around her and speaking the word, stepped forward through the door. There was the sound of a door slamming shut and Dracy suddenly felt herself falling. She opened her eyes to watch the room around her fall away as if she fell through the floor and was looking up through water. She tried to call out as darkness filled around her.
Dracy tried flapping her wings, to go back up, thinking something went horribly wrong. How could imaging a door opening do something like this? But she couldn’t move her wings, in fact, she couldn’t move at all. She gave a final cry before darkness engulfed her completely.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Chapter 2

Dracy woke lying on her back, feeling a pressure on her chest, and cold ground under her. She took a deep breathing, smelling fresh outdoors air mixed with pine. Her eyes fluttered open, expecting to see treetops and blue skies, but instead she came to a different view. A face looking down at her, a little face with a long nose, covered in bronze scales, small horns and flared nostrils. Slit-pupil eyes looked down at her curiously. The thing gave a chirp as she opened her eyes. This startled Dracy, causing her to sit upright, hands flailing about her face to get the thing away with a cry. The scaled creature gave a squawk like a hurt bird and fluttered away to land several feet away, making chirping noises and growls alternately in an almost offended manner towards Dracy.
The girl sat there a long moment, eyes wide, just staring at the little creature that had woken her up with a start. It was smaller than a house cat and covered with the bronze scales. It had a long lean body with a snake like neck and tail but also had spiked ridges down it’s back, and well as bat like wings coming from it’s shoulders and four clawed feet. It was a little dragon, and looked a lot like the living version of the dragon statue that her father kept and that Peter had handed her before coming here.
A revelation came upon Dracy and she glanced around looking for the statue, but finding none. She looked back at the little dragon, which now sat like a cat, wings hugged close to it’s back and tail wrapped around its feet, watching her expectantly.
“Okay, so that’s what that guy meant about you,” Dracy mumbled to herself, her voice causing the little creature to tilt it’s head curiously. “What was it he called you? Nelnya?”
At the sound of its voice the thing chirped and jumped forward, spreading it’s wings and gliding till it landed on Dracy’s lap. The girl couldn’t help but laugh. It was just so cute. Nelnya then flew up and perched on Dracy’s shoulder, wrapping its tail around Dracy’s neck, though it only reached half way, as if it was its place to be there. At first Dracy wasn’t too sure of it being there, but finally decided that she might as well go with it.
The girl got to her feet, groaning, as her muscles were stiff and sore, as if she had been beat by a baseball bat. She wasn’t sure how long she had been laying there on the hard ground, or exactly how she got there. Last thing she remembered was not being able to move in darkness. And before that was the encounter with Peter, and him saving her from the man he called Morcun. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down her spine, despite it being rather warm in the noon sun.
Dracy decided it was best to pull her mind off of that and look around, find out where she was. In the middle of a thin forest of evergreen trees that swayed in a gentle breeze. She was right in the middle of a path, so she decided to go ahead and follow the path in hopes that it would lead her to wherever it was she was supposed to go to find this Shinyo at a place called Haven. This was the first step to finding her father, and she hoped to find him soon.
With the small bronze dragon on her shoulder, and the sun high above her head, she started following the path, which was easy enough to follow despite occasionally having to fight low hanging branches. The occasional fallen tree blocked the path, but nothing that could stop her from continuing. The whole time she walked, Dracy hoped she was going in the direction. Though after everything that happened, she also felt paranoid, flinching at every sound, prepared to defend herself or flee in case that Morcun showed up. But in the end it was usually a bird, or other small animal in the woods.
The sun was starting to fall in the sky when the scenery finally started to change. The path widened to two parallel trails, like for a cart, and the trees started spacing further apart as she went until they came to a gradual end. Here she stopped because over the path was an archway, and beyond an open green field. The archway itself looks as if it was made out of intertwining, leaf less, grey vines, yet was completely symmetrical. On the top of it was attached a silver plaque with unfamiliar, yet fluid inscriptions on it.
Despite being sure that she had never seen this writing before, Dracy found that she was able to read it. The plaque said, “Haven. Empty for evil intent, a resting place for the weary.” Dracy looked back at the field beyond, wondering about the words on the plaque, and if the field being empty meant evil intent, did that mean Dracy wanting to find her father was not a good thing? Or maybe it was just a ruse.
Without a second thought, the girl turned to head down the other way on the path, thinking maybe that it wouldn’t lead to a dead end like this one. But Nelnya gave a chirp and flew off her shoulder, heading towards the field. She just went through the archway when the little dragon just vanished. Dracy frowned, going back to the archway. Hesitantly, she stuck her hand out under the archway, finding it disappearing like Nelnya. Biting her lip, Dracy took a deep breath, and stepped all the way through.
The empty field disappeared, in its place was a river valley filled with buildings made in the same manner as the archway. Far off there was the sound of a waterfall, with the accompaniment of the faint sound of music.
It took a moment for Dracy to take it in. Nelnya came and perched back on her shoulder, giving an encouraging chirp. The girl took a deep breath, the air smelling like a spring forest after a gentle rain, and walked towards the closest building, which seemed more like a gazebo of sorts, yet overly large and sporting occasional walls. There a single man stood by a railing; gazing out across this place called Haven. Dracy couldn’t help but notice how he was tall and thin, with a grace she rarely saw in women, let alone men. Fair skinned and fair-haired, he also had pointed ears. Dracy realized that this man was an elf, straight out of a fantasy book.
“Excuse me,” Dracy said, coming closer to the man, who turned to face her when she spoke. “I’m looking for a man named Shinyo, are you him? Or if not, could you tell me where I might find him?”
The elf raised an elegant eyebrow before letting out a burst of laughter, a wonderful sound to any ear. Elven laughter sounded much like water flowing through a stony stream if such a sound could be picked up by the wind and blown through a flute to make a joyous musical noise. His voice when he spoke was just as pleasant on the ears. “You seek Shinyo? You walked right passed him, he waits by the front door, always waits. For what, he will not tell a soul. Go, and speak with him, I am deep in important business,” with that the elf turned back to gaze off at the valley. Dracy wondered what sort of important business enjoying the scenery was. But then again, if her fantasy books were anything to go by, elves were strange, complicated creatures.
As per the elf’s instructions, Dracy backtracked to the archway, to find she had missed the figure sitting beside it when she first came through. He had his back leaning against part of the arch, knobby knees tucked in and held tight with skinny arms, and balding head resting on the knees as if sleeping. Dracy approached him warily.
“Hello, Shinyo?” Dracy asked, no answer, not even a stir. He didn’t look to be breathing either, making Dracy wonder if he was even alive. “Are you Shinyo? Peter sent me; I need help to find my father. Zero Schmidt. Tall, blond hair, broad shouldered. Have you seen him?”
The man took in a sharp breath, and before Dracy had finished, stood up and was staring up at Dracy with squinty eyes surrounded by deep wrinkles. The man wore a tunic that went down almost to his knees, tied at the waist by a rope. His feet were bare, his grey beard long, almost touching his rope belt. He stood a whole head shorter than Dracy and kept running his tongue over his crooked teeth.
“So y’er Zero’s pup? All grown up ain’t ye? Ya, I’m Shinyo, and you’re late, miss Dragonback, lass,” the man said, his voice unnecessarily loud, yet raspy with age. “I’ve been waitin for ya. Bout time ye showed up. Come wit’ me, we gotta get to a place where none o’ these confounded elves will drop eaves on us.” With that the man pulled out a wooden cane from somewhere behind him and started walking off towards the buildings.
Dracy stood there for a moment, not sure if she was surprised by the sudden waking of the man, his appearance, or the fact he seemed to know who she was by the fact that he called her dragon back. But standing there wasn’t helping anything, so Dracy went and caught up to Shinyo, who was rambling on about something to do with elves and magic while he walked. Dracy could help but notice how he seemed to use the word ‘queer’ quite often. The best she figured, he wasn’t a fan of magic, and used the word queer in its original sense of the word, meaning strange or weird.
“This man is quite queer himself,” Dracy murmured to Nelnya, who just tilted her head. Shinyo turned suddenly to face her, sticking the end of his cane in her face.
“What did ye say, missy? Am I not quite what ye expected? Too bad. Now I suggest you shut y’er trap for now unless you don’t want me help after all,” he said, before turning back around and continuing to walk. Dracy just sighed and kept quiet as she followed. They made their way to a small building enclosed with walls made of the same grey vines. Inside was a simple cot, two chairs, and a table. A window looked across the valley, but Shinyo went and pulled a curtain over it before going and sitting down. He motioned for Dracy to take the other seat, so she did, Nelnya jumped onto the table and sitting like a cat with her tail curled around her paws.
“No, tell me, in detail, all that’s happened that got ye back here from the other world,” Shinyo said, watching her expectantly. Dracy messed with the bracelets on her wrist as she began to tell the tale, starting from when she got home, and ending at when she walked through the archway of Haven. The whole time, Shinyo just sad quietly, listening and watching her as if taking in and hanging onto every word she said. There was a long silence after she finished. The silence was broken when Shinyo suddenly tapped the bottom of his cane on the ground.
“Well, interesting story. Good to hear that Peter is still alive and well. Haven’t talked to the chap in ages. Any who, I know what ye need to do now. First we’ll be goin’ to Crickheim, where we’ll find ya passage to Ashenheim. There ye will want to speak with the Seer, a wise woman, can find anythin’ from a person, to a lost shoe. At least that’s as rumors go. Where ye go from there depends on what she tells ya. Ah, but a ‘fore all that, lets get ya some cloths that better be fittin this world. Not good to look like the other world around ‘ere. Causes trouble, that it does,” Shinyo then got to his feet and motioned for Dracy to follow him.
Shinyo ended up leaving her in the care of some elves, who gave her cloths to change into that matched this world, something like out of a fantasy movie. A tunic, vest, riding trousers and knee-high lace up boots. They then gave her food to eat and a bed to sleep on as by then the sun was setting. Dracy quickly fell asleep in the cot she was given, though it was just on a porch and not in a proper room, she felt safe here. She quickly fell asleep with Nelnya curled up beside her, to the sound of the far off river, and the faint music that had never stopped. But now many soft, angelic voices joined the music. Dracy caught some of what the words said before she fell asleep. Some seemed to be in a different language, but here is what she caught of the elven lullaby, for the voices could only belong to elves.

Many paths come, and many paths go
But tonight, sweet dreams we will sow
In the protection of our sacred home.
The world outside is strong and fierce
And many a life has been brutally pierced
But Haven is safe, for evil will disperse
Under this spell that lingers here,
For sanctuary is what we endear
So forget and let go of all your fear
Sleep tight, for we sing a lullaby
To all nightmares we say goodbye
Safety will be to all who here abide.

This was but a short verse that Dracy managed to catch before slipping off into dreams of dragons and elves. No nightmares came to her that night, and when she woke she felt well rested and energized. That day Shinyo wanted to leave, but Dracy was very reluctant to go. Though she had spent very little time in this place, she was enjoying herself greatly.
“That’s the magic of elves,” Shinyo just explained as she told him how she felt. “It keep Haven safe, it does. But it gets in ye, gets ye not wantin to leave. Most get inner peace here in the safety, some forget themselves in the song and never leave. But them elves can’t sing ol’ Shinyo to forget himself. Too much have I see to be enchanted. Now, let us be off from these queer elves and their magics.”
It was barely noon when they set off down the trail, each with a pack on their back. They followed it back the way Dracy came, over the fallen trees and through the branches. Dracy found that Shinyo, despite using a cane and his apparent age, was surprisingly limber and needed no help navigating the obstacles.
They passed the place where Dracy guessed she woke up, and kept walking without pause. Some time after Dracy heard the sounds of a rushing ocean, and sure enough the forest ended at a beach where a long dock stretched out into waters that reached the horizon in all directions. At the dock waited a small ship, with crew scurrying about as if ready to set sail. The ferry of Haven, Shinyo called it, as they went to board it, none of the crew questioning them.
As soon as they were on board, the ship set sail, and at the unfurling of the masts, began gliding across the water. Despite the good weather and smooth waters, Dracy quickly found that she did not enjoy traveling by boat. For the majority of the trip she found herself hanging her head over the railing, feeling like every small lurch was a giant wave that tossed her about. She couldn’t wait to reach their destination.
When Dracy asked Shinyo how long it would take to get there, he answered that it was a two-day trip, making the girl groan. She wasn’t sure if she was up for two days of a rocking ship. Luckily the weather remained clear and the ocean relatively calm. It was the morning after their departure when Dracy realized she had no clue as to the distance they had to go, or the geography of this place. Especially when a whistle came from the crow’s nest and land was spotted on their starboard side. A line of cliff along the horizon that seemed to go on for as far as they could see in either direction.
The ship continued sailing parallel with the cliffs, maintaining a safe distance from them, for the remainder of the journey. For the next day it remained like this until nearing the end of the second day. Gradually the cliffs, which once towered the boat, shortened so one could see the plains above. They continued to fall and turn to beaches. Not long later, a town came into sight.
It was not such an enchanting and magical town as Haven, but more plain, if not larger. Made mostly of cold stone buildings and tiled roofs. A great tower stood above the rest with a beacon of light, great docks reached out, filled with people walking to a fro from the ships anchored at them. The ferry of Haven sailed up to one of these docks, throwing out lines to waiting men.
Shinyo and Dracy waited as the masts were brought in, the ship secured, and a plank laid out before departing from the ship. Shinyo thanked the captain as he stepped to the dock, waving for Dracy to follow as he made his way to the town proper. Dracy couldn’t help but notice the cold nip in the air. Where Haven had been warm and in summer weather, this place seemed cold with the oncoming of winter.
But Dracy didn’t get the chance to voice this observation or ask about it because before she knew it Shinyo had led her into a crowded market place full of people just crowded together. The old man wasn’t hard to follow with his slow pace and constant mumbling. Dracy managed to stay right with him while looking around at the same time. Though the city wasn’t too colorful or much to look at, the people were. Short stalky men with beards that Dracy would have called dwarves, more elves, there was a woman that looked like she was made of smoke and constantly being swept away by a nonexistent wind. They even passed a group of people with feathered wings.
Despite seeing everything, she barely believed it. And when they passed someone with a tail, she wanted so back to go up and pull it to make sure it was real. But she resisted the urge and just kept walking along with Shinyo, placing a hand on Nelnya’s tiny head, hearing the small dragon purr. It was then that she realized that just was much as she was looking about at the people, they were looking at her. Or more specifically, Nelnya. As if the sight of a dragon was strange to them, even though they were all right out of a fantasy book with dwarves and elves.
Dracy couldn’t speculate further as Shinyo led her into a building. Inside it was rather vacant, but guessed it was a tavern or something of the like. It had a bar with stools lined along it and shelves of drinks on the wall, and tables with chairs all around. As soon as they walked in, Shinyo went to a man in the corner who was examining maps laid out on a table.
“Hail, captain,” Shinyo said as he approached the man. In turn he looked up and gave an almost annoyed sigh.
“What do you want, Shinyo?” the sailor’s gravelly voice replied.
“Passage for this young girl to Ashenheim. Need to get ‘er to the Seer as soon as can be,” Shinyo replied, tapping his cane on the ground. In response the man let out a great bellow of laughter.
“That there just shows how long you’ve been stuck under y’er rock, Shinyo. Seer’s been dead for near on five years. New one hasn’t shown up yet,” the man replied, his words making the knobby old man frown and stroke his silver beard. Dracy bit her lip, glancing at the man.
“What do we do now?” Dracy asked, having many more questions than that. She wanted to ask how were they supposed to find her father now, what exactly this seer was and if there was more than one. By looking at the maps, this world was huge, and she was having doubts that she would ever be able to find her father in this entire strange world. She didn’t have a single lead to go on.
“I’ll tell ye what we do. We go to an Inn. You sit and wait, and I’ll find where ye have to go,” Shinyo said, and without giving the man with the maps another consideration, turned and left, Dracy following nervously at his heels. She followed him out back onto the busy streets of the city. Before the path ahead was unclear, but she had a general idea of what she needed to do, even if it was just talking to people. But now the next person she was supposed to talk to was apparently dead. And she wondered if this Shinyo guy even knew what needed to be done at this point.
Dracy was starting to panic, the noise and crowd around her not helping. She felt so overwhelmed by everything. Her father gone, being attack and then sent to another world. Why was she so special anyone that she had to be the one to do this? That wasn’t what she needed to be asking now. She needed to ask what was her next step to finding her father, though she knew close to nothing about this world.
Surely she couldn’t just keep depending on this old man who now led her into another building, which was much taller than the others. He spoke with a man inside, purchasing a room and leading the way upstairs. There was a single bed in the room, and not much else. Dracy was about to say something about it when Shinyo spoke, as if reading her mind.
“I don’t sleep inside buildings, I sleep outside. Besides, I won’t be sleep anytime soon. Too much to do and I can sleep when I’m dead. Now wait here. Don’t go anywhere, and blast it, don’t let the dragonet out of your sight,” he said, before leaving, closing the door behind him. Dracy found herself left alone with the small bronze dragon, left to wait and think. Everything was sinking in, and she felt just overwhelmed by it all.
Several hours passed, and Dracy found it hard to keep herself occupied while waiting. Twiddling thumbs, rearranging her bag the elves gave her for her cloths, taking a nap. She was just about to doze off when Nelnya, who had been curled up beside her, suddenly stood with a chirp. Dracy opened her eyes to watch the little thing, which had its eyes fixed on the window of the room. The little dragon got up and flew over to the window, landing on ledge, looking out over the street below.
“Stay in here,” Dracy told it, but it appeared to be ignoring her. She got up to go over to it, but before she got there, it jumped out the window, flying over the street, chirping almost alarmingly. “Nelnya!” Dracy cried, going to the window to see if she could reach it, but didn’t get there in time. In frustration, she watched the little dragon circle off, and decided she had no choice but to follow.
Leaving her stuff, Dracy left the room, ran down the stairs and out into the street. She spotted Nelnya flying above, and gave chase, pushing through the crowd while trying to keep an eye on the little dragon that zipped back and forth over the heads of the people in the street as if looking for something. Then Nelnya flew around the corner of a building and was lost from sight. Dracy hurried to catch up, almost running over a child in the process.
Dracy got around the corner just to see Nelnya take another turn. Frustrated, Dracy continued to follow as best she could through the city. Finally she broke from the buildings and crowds to find her at the docks of the city. Looking around, she saw Nelnya circling over a large ship that was being loaded with cargo on the other end of the dock. She quickly made her way over there, having to move through a line of people headed towards a different ship, causing Dracy to momentarily loose sight of the dragonet.
In that moment, Dracy heard Nelnya give an especially loud shriek, which was followed by a crash. Dracy pushed through the crowd faster to get to the commotion that was building up in the same general direction. When Dracy finally broke through the line of people, and caught sight of what happened, she just stood there a moment.
A crate had been knocked down from a tall pile and lay upside down on the deck, it’s contents scattered and broken. From the crate came noises of scratching and shrieks from the dragonet, and occasionally it moved. Nelnya had managed to trap herself under the crate. Standing over the mess with a nasty glare stood a tall black haired man with stunning blue eyes. He wore rich clothing, and everyone around seemed to be holding their breath, as if waiting for him to suddenly blow. That’s the impression Dracy got from seeing this man with the scowl.
Cloak billowing behind him, he went to the crate and kicked it hard, causing it to flip over. The dragonet underneath was stunned by its sudden removal, blinking several times. So before it could react a gloved hand grabbed it around it’s small body, wings at all, and picked it up to eye level. Nelnya screeched and squirmed, struggling against the man’s hold.
When everyone around saw the dragonet, a whispering went through the crowds. Dracy didn’t catch any of what was said, but she suddenly got a very bad feeling. She was afraid to step forward, to stop the man, but a fear came over her. Something about him wasn’t right. Nelnya gave another squeal, this one with a pain in its tone, and struggled harder, tail and head flailing about. It attempted to bite the man’s hand, but could do nothing through the gloves.
“Stop, you’re hurting her!” Dracy managed to stay, running forward, almost tripping over the crate in the process. She went to grab for Nelnya, but the man pulled his hand away and took a knife from his belt, putting the point against Dracy’s neck. She froze on the spot, feeling the cold steel touch her skin, and swallowed hard. “Please, sir, don’t hurt her.”
The man glared at her for a long moment with those icy blue eyes, before finally speaking, his voice eerily calm. “This thing has just destroyed a box of very valuable merchandise, specially made for a very important customer. This thing has just cost me quite a bit of gold, and a great inconvenience. I was already having a bad day, and then this happens. I am not very happy or in the mood for games. Someone needs to pay for the damage, and seeing as how this thing caused it, it will have to pay for it. Unless you are responsible for it,” he said, his voice hard. Dracy stood for a long moment, not sure what to do or say. She had no money to pay for the broken items, but she couldn’t let Nelnya be hurt so much like this.
“I am responsible for her, so please, don’t hurt her. I don’t have money to pay you, but it was just an accident, no harm was meant, I just-“ Dracy began, but was cut off.
“But harm was done. There are others ways to pay besides coin, lass. I’ll take this dragonet off your hands in exchange for the damage, that or pay with it through service. Either way, I will be compensated. So what will it be? You or the dragonet?” the man asked, moving the knife to point between Nelnya, who was still squirming, and Dracy. The gears in her head were turning, trying to think of a way out of it. She was alone in this matter, since she had no clue where Shinyo was. One thing she asked herself was what kind of service was this man asking of her? And how long would it take her to work off the damage? If things worked here like it did back home, than the term ‘you break it, you buy it’ must apply. That was the situation Dracy was in, and in the end she realized she had no choice, especially if she wanted to keep Nelnya.
“Sorry father, looks like you’ll have to be put on hold,” she muttered to herself.
“What was that?” The man asked, having been waiting for an answer. Then he looked around at the crowd. All eyes were on them, all wide and fear filled. There was a quiet like they were all holding their breath. “Move along, this isn’t any of your business,” the man snapped at them, and just like that people started going back to their business, and the bustle of the crowd began again, though they gave the man, the girl, and the mess a very wide berth. “So, I’m waiting.”
“I’ll work it off. I can’t let you have Nelnya, but I can work. I-“ Dracy was saying when she felt a hand grip her arm and yank her back. In front of her stepped Shinyo, who, despite, his size, somehow managed to snatch Nelnya from the man. He placed the dragon on his shoulder, and glared up at the blue-eyed man with a stubborn look.
“Excuse me sir, but ye will not be taking either the dragonet or the girl. I am sorry, but ya will just have to live with y’r losses and find some other way to make up for it. Good day to ya,” Shinyo said, and went to turn away. At this point Dracy was afraid the man would use his knife because of the look in his eyes when Shinyo stood up to him.
“I have not survived in business so long by just living with my losses or by letting creaky old men and their dragonets keep payment from me. I run an honest business, not a charity. A debt is owed for the broken goods, and someone must pay it,” the man replied. “Do not make me get the authorities involved in this.”
With the mention of the authorities, Shinyo stopped, leaning heavily on his cane, and biting on his bottom lip with crooked teeth. He seemed to be deep in thought. Apparently he didn’t have the money to pay off the items, either. Items that were no longer just scattered about but trampled in the crowd and lost. No one had yet bothered to pick up the mess.
“I said I’ll work it off,” Dracy piped back up again, getting both Shinyo and the man’s gaze. “It was my fault Nelnya was out here anyway, I accidently let her go, so I should pay for it.”
Shinyo frowned, and went over and grabbed Dracy’s arm. “A moment, please,” he said, leading her a few paces away and pulling her down so her ear was level with his mouth so he could whisper in her ear without being heard by the man, who crossed his arms and waited.
“Ye don’t know what y’re doin. It’d be bad for ya to get mixed up with him, for more reasons than one. Ya need to search for Zero without delay, or bad things will happen,” he whispered harshly, his tone almost begging.
“Shinyo, please. We can’t just walk away from this. The guy said he’d call the authorities, and if they’re anything like the police back home, it can get messy if they’re involved and likely end up wasting more time than just working this off. I mean, what’s the longest it would take? A few days? A week? That would also give you time to figure out what I need to do to find my dad, since that seer person is dead,” Dracy replied, trying to make her case. She just got to this place; it wouldn’t be good to make an enemy already. Shinyo seemed to way her words, but in the end shook his head.
“You may think it wise, but it’s not. You know nothing of this man.”
“And you do?” Dracy inquired, curious.
“Yes, more than most. He is called Phillip Iris, a very successful businessman in these parts, but that’s not what worries me. Iris is just a cover name so no one knows his true heritage. He is a Dragonbane. And anyone that is Dragonbane has a bad history with dragons and very much dislikes dragons, and dragon kin. That includes dragonets and ignorant little girls that are part dragon,” Shinyo said, a worry coming to his eyes. Dracy had never heard a few of these terms before, but somewhat understood. Generally anything using the word bane was bad, usually deadly to whatever it was against. This was against dragons, and though she wasn’t actually dragon, she did have those features, which meant he would be a bane to her. Shinyo did have a point.
“My earlier point still stands, but then what do you suggest we do. Ask nicely if he’ll just let it go? He was holding a knife to my throat earlier, I very much doubt it,” Dracy replied back. Shinyo made a strange growling noise in his throat.
“I just wish I had time to think this through. No, I wish you had never let this dragonet out of y’er room,” Shinyo said.
“I’m waiting,” the man said, clearing his throat. “I don’t have all day, you know. Take any longer and I will call the guards and have you thrown in jail for all the trouble it’s worth.”
Shinyo grimaced, then turned back to Phillip with an obviously fake smile. “I’m sorry, but you see we are in a bit of a pickle. This young lass is on a very important task that cannot be delayed, and we have no money to pay ya. We cannot afford to be put in jail, and we cannot take the time right now to pay ye back. But if we could possibly give ye an I owe you, we will get back to ye at the soonest convenience and pay you. Who knows, given time, we’ll be able to pay with coin instead of service. Aye?”
Phillip’s eyes narrowed at Shinyo when he was done speaking, making his glares all the more menacing. “Taking the word of a strange old man with obviously no coin and an insolent girl about a good sum of money? You must think me a fool, and thinking that I am a fool is a grave mistake.” Phillip started striding forward towards them. Dracy bit her lip, unsure of what to do. Shinyo said she shouldn’t get involved with this man, and more and more she was starting to agree with the old man. “Speaking of which, what exactly are an old man, a foreign girl, and a clumsy dragonet doing in this part of the country? Other than inconveniencing me?”
“That is none of yer business,” Shinyo snapped, waving his cane at Phillip.
“If you have to know, I’m trying to look for my father. He went missing. I have no idea where he is, or where to start looking. Not that you would care, all you care about is your stupid ruined cargo. Which, I can kind of understand, considering it did look like expensive stuff before Nelnya ruined it. Earlier I already said I’d work it off, but you’re such a big jerk, I don’t think I will. You’ll just have to take the I owe you, and get lost,” Dracy said, overcome by a sudden courage against this man. She wasn’t sure what came over her, or why she said what she did. The fire in Phillip’s eyes burned brighter. He stalked forward towards her.
“You insolent little fool. You don’t know whom you’re trying to be cross with, foreigner. But I’ve had enough of this,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm. The moment he touched her, both Dracy and Phillip froze, their eyes suddenly locking, but they weren’t seeing each other. A bright light consumed them, to the point where they stood along in a blank whiteness. Before them appeared a great dragon. A long serpentine neck held a majestic head with golden ornate scales and spikes of ivory. The body was well muscled, yet scarred, it’s back held two sets of wings, and it had a long whip-like tail. It gazed down upon them, they knew it was there, but they could not look away from each other’s eyes, yet the dragon was in their full sight. The dragon’s great maw opened and a deep rumbling voice came to their ears.

“A chance at redemption is what I bring
For the heir of a long fallen king.
The Dragonsword is what you should seek,
And the twelve great dragons you must meet.
And in order to finish your quest
You must complete each dragon’s test.
Prepare, ye warrior, for not only a clash with sword,
But also tricky riddles and a witty word.
And if you succeed to the end,
The Eldest dragon awaits you then.
But not along can you accomplish this feat,
For it takes two for this task to be complete.
Dragonback and Dragonbain.
Together as one, the Dragonsword you will gain.”

With those words, the dragon faded away and vanished, and then the consuming light died down, leaving Phillip and Dracy back on the docks, staring at each other. Things seemed to have slowed, but then everything was normal, the crowd continued on their business. Shinyo came forward and pulled Dracy away from Phillip.
“Now see here, don’t ye lay y’r stained hands on her! She ain’t gotta work for you,” Shinyo snapped at Phillip, who was blinking repeatedly, not taking his eyes off of Dracy. The girl, biting her lip, poked Shinyo’s shoulder. “What is it?” He asked harshly.
“Didn’t you see that just now?” she asked the old man, whose face contorted into confusion.
“See what just when?” he asked Dracy, a bit more crossly than he meant to.
“Just now, the blinding light, and the dragon. Said something about a quest for a sword, and-“ Dracy began.
“Dragons and quests? Y’r head must not be screwed on right. There are no dragons in these parts aside from y’r dragonet!” exclaimed Shinyo.
“No, she was right, there was a dragon. But what just happened, it’d be best not to speak where so many ears are listening. I will let the incident with the crate slide, but you must come with me. I have a few questions,” Phillip said, keeping his voice eerily calm. The anger appeared to have vanished, though his face looked heavy with thought. His eyes never left Dracy until he turned and started walking away. Dracy started following, despite Shinyo trying to advise her not to, saying she shouldn’t get mixed up with him. But he didn’t see the dragon like she had, so she followed, and eventually Shinyo did as well, with Nelnya on his shoulder, though he grumbled to himself the whole time.
Phillip led them into a private room on the ship, which looked a lot like an office with its desk and piles of papers. Phillip motioned for them to sit in the set of cushioned chairs next to the desk. He was silent for a moment, as if deep in thought, having sat in a high backed chair on the other side of the desk. Finally, he spoke, his eyes on Dracy.
“I don’t know who you are, where you came from, or what kind of fate brought you here, but it can’t have been by chance. You’re dragon touched, too. Though in a different way than I am,” Phillip said. As he spoke he removed his left glove and rolled up his sleeve. Dracy watched as the movement revealed a marking on his fore arm. A scar in the shape of a dragon’s head with a sword piercing its forehead. The scar only made Shinyo start grumbling.
“I told you, he’s the Dragonbain! His father is a dragon killer! C’mon Dracy, we be leavin now,” Shinyo said, rising to his feet. But Dracy didn’t move, she had a calculating look on her face.
“You’re Dragonbain… I’m Dragonback… Looks like you and I have a sword to go find,” Dracy whispered.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

I just read the prologue. It's an interesting story, once I got into it and past all the extremely long sentences.
I'm too busy to read the rest, but what I've read is pretty good.

When it comes to the long sentences, what can I say but that Tolkien is my inspiration ;D lol. And glad you enjoyed the prologue!

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Wow, this story seems complicated.
I read the rest of what you've put on here. Um, what's with the random bit with Hailey? It doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the story. O_o
Have you written any more of it? Cause I really want to keep reading.

Once once breaks it down and gets a handle on it, the plot really isn't that complicated, it just seems to be in the start.

As for the part with Hailey, in a way it's not so random. If anything, I would refer you back to earlier in that chapter when the one girl's mom is telling Dracy about this dream she's been having. There's a connection between that and Hailey. But, I'm not going to say anything else, or else I will give away a major plot twist that comes in later in the story.

As having written more, I've started Chapter 3! Not sure when it'll be up. Hopefully in the next few days.

But with someone having read it, and wanting to keep reading is really encouraging and makes me want to write more! I'd almost ask if you could keep on my back about writing and get me to finish the story! lol.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

ah, ok. well, it seems complicated with all the different characters and it seems like you have a bunch of different plots going on...
YOU MUST GET THE NEXT CHAPTER DONE SOON!!!
Haha, if you want me to bug you about writing it when you don't put something up for a while I can. You might regret it though. *evil smile*

I have a large cast of characters

And actually there are.... three main plots, all three tying it together. Though there are about two sub-plots, but those are more like character histories.

And yes, I want someone to bug me!!!!!! Lol. It'll kick me into actually writing on it more. I don't care if you are evil about it. Though just to let you know, I am a college student, so on occasion I won't be able to work on it if I have a major project I'm working on. Though I'm on break until next week, lol.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Okay, so it's been a long while, but here it is! Chapter 3!


“I won’t stand fer this!” Shinyo shouted, as he ironically stood up. He started waving his cane in the air. “Ya two are talkin none sense. There was no dragon, and the Dragonsword is just a children’s story. Ye, sir, are a thorn in every dragon’s side, they wouldn’t give ya the Dragonsword even if ya did a million quests for ‘em, Dragonbain. And ye are bein a thorn in young Dracy’s side! Dracy, we must leave ‘ere. We have to find y’re father without delay.”
“Shut your mouth you crazy old man. You questioning the words of Phillip Iris?” Phillip demanded. “This girl saw it, too. She may have been the one to trigger it. The dragons are giving me a chance to redeem my family name. To remove the curse that follows me and my family. It’s been heard to have happened before. Do I need to repeat the dragon’s exact words to you? ‘A chance at redemption is what I bring, for the heir of a long fallen king. The Dragonsword is what you should seek, and the twelve great dragons you must meet. In order to finish your quest, you must complete each dragon’s test. Prepare, ye warrior for not only a clash with sword, but also tricky riddles and a witty word. And if you succeed unto the end, the Eldest dragon awaits you then. But not alone can you accomplish this feat, for it takes two for this task to be complete. Dragonback and Dragonbain, together as one, the Dragonsword you will gain.’
“Do you still believe I’m making this up? Or that this girl and I happened to make it up at the same time? If it wasn’t for this, I would still be arguing about my lost load. Your brain is addled if you think it’s wise to disregard those words. They may even have been from the Elder dragon himself,” Phillip snapped. Though from the moment he spoke the words of the dragon, Shinyo had stood there with a look of complete shock on his face. His eyes were staring at Phillip intently.
“Y’re… But, I thought. I didn’t,” Shinyo stammered, then sat down, placing the end of his cane on the floor. “I see. So the dragons have spoken. But why now? Can’t it wait till Dracy finds ‘er father?”
“Shinyo, what if this is how I’m going to find my father?” Dracy cut in, making both men look at her. “Calling me a foreigner here is an understatement. I don’t know how things work around here, but a shared vision from a dragon can’t be too common. And this Elder dragon sounds like it’s a big deal. What if… what if this is how it’s supposed to happen? I mean, I don’t believe in fate and all that, but do you have a better idea of how to go about looking for my dad?”
The was a long moment of silence. Shinyo seemed to be chewing on something as he sat there deep in thought. Finally he stood again. “Fine. Do what ya want, but I’ll have no part of this! If you git into deep trouble, don’t come cryin ta me! All my trouble for this. I’m goin back to Haven, since I ain’t needed here. Luck to ya, miss Dracy. Hope ya find y’er father.” With that he hobbled out the door. Dracy and Phillip watched after him, Nelnya, who was on Dracy’s shoulder, gave an inquisitive chirp, and put a paw on Dracy’s cheek. Dracy ran her hand over the Dragonet’s back to reassure it, though reassuring it of what, she couldn’t say herself. With Shinyo leaving, doubt started creeping into Dracy. She didn’t know what she was doing, and she had just accepted to do something that sounded like it could be rather dangerous with a complete stranger. Though she seemed to be taking the word of strangers quite a lot lately. Being handed off from one to another, everything just spinning around her faster than she could comprehend. Her attention was drawn to Phillip who sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. Then he looked up, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers.
“Dracy, was it? Is that short for something? Tell me, where exactly are you from, and what brought you to Crickheim?” he asked her.
“Well, Dracy is short for Draca. I’m Draca Schmidt. I’m here looking for my dad, who suddenly went missing. I was told to find Shinyo, who would help me find my dad, and Shinyo said we had to find the Seer, who apparently is dead or something. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not from anywhere around here. I mean, I’m from America,” she began, but the name of the place only seemed to confuse Phillip. “Um, Earth? The other world that’s somehow connected to this one by some gate or other. Not sure if we’re in the same universe or not, probably not. We’re a lot more technologically advanced, but we don’t have magic or dragons, though it’d be cool if there was.”
“Alright, that’s enough. If you really didn’t want to tell me, you should have said so. Draca, listen, this is no laughing matter here. Since you seem to be oblivious to the weight of what the dragon said, let me explain. Dragons are sacred creatures. The big, older ones, not the little dragonets that are more like an off breed. Killing a dragon puts a curse on the one who slayed it, as well as that individual’s family. They are cursed with the mark of a dragon killer, this scar, for all eternity, all through the generations.”
“So the kids have to pay for what their father did? That’s not fair. So wait, then your dad is a dragon killer? Did he do it for fun, or what if the dragon was actually a bad guy, stealing all the gold and eating all the animals.”
“Silence, idiot. It doesn’t matter, the fact remains that the dragons are giving me a chance to lift my family’s curse. At least, that’s what I’m guessing. I have to face the twelve dragons, and as the dragon said, I can’t do it alone. It said that I have to do it with some Dragonback, and you said yourself that you’re Dragonback,” Phillip explained. Dracy was starting to wrap her head around it, so nodded.
“Well, that’s what I’ve been called lately. I’ve got scales, and retractable wings on my back. Though there aren’t a lot of people who know that,” Dracy replied. “Which means, the this dragons wants me to help you on this quest to remove your curse. Maybe it’s because of my dragon features, I don’t know. But where exactly would we be going, anyway?”
“Well, that’s the simple part, anyway. Where we’re going should be obvious. The Dragon Isles,” Phillip told her, and she started laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Dragonback, Dragonbain, Dragonsword, Dragon Isles. Is there anything in this world that isn’t somehow dragon related?”
“Yes, actually. Most of the world. Have you lived with your head under a rock? Here, let me show you,” Phillip pulled out yellowed piece of paper that was all folded up. He unfolded it several times till it was nearly as big as the desk, and laid it out. Dracy peaking in to see that it was a big map. There were three main continents, though only a piece were shown of each on the map, instead of showing the whole world, so there likely could have been more to it than what the map showed. Phillip pointed to a small cluster of islands in the middle of the ocean.
“These are the Dragon isles. And this is where we are,” his finger moved nearly to the other side of the map to a city marked on an outcrop of land from a northern continent. “We’ll be traveling by ship most of the way, stopping in Merid Port to drop off my current shipment and get supplies to continue on. On the right page, now?”
“I think so. So when do we leave?” Dracy asked.
“Tomorrow morning, that’s when everything will be on board.” Phillip said. Dracy nodded, after a few more words, she departed, going back to the Inn. Shinyo was there, and said nothing to her as she collected her stuff. She was about to leave when he told her to at least stay the night in the Inn where it was a bit safer, and she complied. Phillip, on the other hand, stayed with the ship, going back to overseeing the loading of goods. He had someone finally clean up the mess, and make sure the ship was ready to sail.


The next day a strong wind was blowing down from east. Phillip saw this as a good sign, knowing that it meant the wind would be right in their sails and their progress would be fast. And if luck held, they would get only the edge of the storm that the wind would blow in, since they headed away from it. The captain of the ship didn’t share the same opinion as Phillip, and argued with him that morning, saying they should stay in the safety of the port till the storm blew over, but Phillip insisted they leave right away.
The captain eventually gave in, knowing that Phillip was the one who paid him for the trip, and was the biggest source of income he had for him and his crew. So they prepared to depart, delaying only because Dracy woke up a bit late and hurried to the docks. When she finally boarded, breathing hard after having ran the whole way, the anchor was raised and they cast off. It wasn’t long before they were sailing out to open sea, leaving Crickheim behind. It wasn’t long before land disappeared beyond the horizon behind them and there was nothing but water as far as the eye could see.
Like the journey from Haven to Crickheim, Dracy ended up hanging her head over the edge, her stomach in knots from the moving of the ship. Phillip seemed to find some amusement out of this, but didn’t say anything. Instead, when she seemed unable to throw up anything else, and was just leaning against the edge, he finally came up to her. She looked up to face him only to have a bucket full of suds and a mop shoved into her arms.
“Here, while we’re at it, you can clean the deck,” Phillip said, Dracy glared up at him, trying to situate the buck and mop in her hands so she didn’t drop them and spill the soapy water all over.
“What’s this about? What gives you the right?” Dracy demanded.
“I have every right. Your dragonet did ruin a whole crate of expensive cargo. So you might as well work a little of it off. Besides, you obviously have nothing better to do,” Phillip replied, giving her a wry smile, then walked away, going up to the captain near the wheel. Dracy glared after him, a bit irritated that he would have her do this. But then again, he was right, so she went to work.
She had half the main deck mopped when a harsh wind started picking up, whipping at Dracy’s hair and cloths, causing the masts to strain against their poles. The flag flying on the tallest mast was pointed straight out from the wind. It seemed to come on so suddenly it startled Dracy. She looked up at the sky almost involuntarily, but what she saw only made her worry. A great shadow was starting to loom over the merchant ship in the form of dark clouds. It billowed nearly black; heavy with the weight of the storm it held inside. Inside its darkness was the occasional flash of lightening, and underneath it was a haze as rain fell to the ocean below. The leviathan of a storm was catching up, the very storm that made the captain of the ship want to stay at harbor longer, had finally caught up, and they were a mere half a day into their journey.
Just as suddenly as the wind had picked up, the calm of the ocean quickly changed into very choppy, the ship rocking back and forth and an increasing rate. Not used to such movement, Dracy clung to the railing desperately, eyes wide. The crew started running about as the captain shouted orders over the blowing wind.
One of the crewmembers grabbed Dracy and led her downstairs, nearly shoving her into a wall in the process with the movement of the ship. He told her to hold onto a crossbeam and stay put until the storm was over, before departing back to the upper deck.
All the crewmembers were grabbing rope, tying an end to their waist and making sure the other end was secure on pegs on the rails or masts. They got to work securing ropes and rigging as well as cargo and crates as the storm overcame them. The rain came like a wall, starting as a hissing sound that gradually grew until it over came all other sounds. It passed over the ship, drenching all on deck within seconds with it’s pounding raindrops.
With the rain, the wind picked up as well as the temper of the sea, the waves growing increasingly larger, causing the ship to rock and pitch at alarming angles. It rose to the top of a wave, to suddenly lean forward as it crashed to the valley between waves, having the next wave crash onto the deck, soaking everything. The ship would climb to the crest of another wave, only to pitch suddenly and fall into another valley. Over and over again this was repeated as the storm blew, the wind no longer blowing in one direction, but constantly changing, making it useless. The crew was forced to pull in the sails, and hang tight to the ship or else get cast off the side by the storm.
The wood of the ship groaned against the storm, but held fast, as she was a sturdy ship and would not be destroyed by waves and wind alone. Though the sea did make cause for her to alter her course. There were three men at the wheel now, holding it tight, trying to keep it from spinning out of control with the direction of the currents. The storm lasted for several hours, the crew working tirelessly through it, while Dracy clung to a crossbeam in the belly of the ship.
Just as quickly as it had come upon them, so it left them. The rain ceased, the water stilled. The clouds faded to reveal a clear star filled night sky. The crew was exhausted, resting on the deck as the ship’s movements went from pitching to still and smooth. After the rain stopped, many started wringing out articles of clothing, or even shedding them and laying them out upon the rails to dry off, though these retrieved blankets to cover themselves, for with the end of the storm, a chill set in the air.
When things started calming down, Dracy, who had been a wrack of nerves for the duration of the storm, raced back up to the deck. She went straight to the railing, and heaved over into the water. The constant rocking of the ship had caused her stomach to go in knots, and it was only the fright of the ship falling apart around her and sinking that kept her from throwing up during the storm. But now she clung to the railing, leaning nearly doubled over the edge. Most of the crew was too tired to pay her any attention; the rest didn’t care anyway.
When it seemed her stomach had been emptied, Dracy wiped her mouth, and laid her back on the deck floor, staring up at the sky. She became suddenly amazed at how clear the sky was after such a storm, and what amazed her even more were the stars. She had never seen so many, so clearly in her entire life. There were million more than back home where city lights blocked out the dimmer stars. But here there was close to nothing that would cause that. She tried seeking out familiar constellations like the little dipper, but quickly realized that these constellations above her were complete strangers to her, seeing nothing familiar. Even the moon was different, looking much bigger, and having an almost blue tint to it in its current half full state.
She stared up at the sky in wonder for the longest time, her limbs feeling like jelly from remaining tense from the storm. She was vaguely aware of someone walking up to her, but became completely aware when they leaned over her and blocked her view of the sky. Piercing blue eyes glowered down at her.
“Why are you tired? It’s not like you were working to secure the ship during the storm, unlike the crew,” Phillip said to her with a raised eyebrow. Dracy glared up at him sourly.
“Shut up, I’m not used to being on a boat in the middle of the storm. My nerves are shot. Though where were you though it? You look dry and not the least bit tired. How’d you come out of that all fresh?” Dracy snapped, not in the mood for games.
“I’m not a sailor, but I’m accustomed to sailing. I also have faith in the crew to bring the ship through the storm safely. So I simply remained in my quarters waiting for the storm to pass,” Phillip replied, and then straightened himself so he was no longer leaning over her and looked towards the prow where the captain was speaking with another crewmember, making sure there had been no damage during the storm. A few important ropes had been broken, but nothing that they couldn’t fix quickly or that would delay the trip.
Dracy sat up, stretching her sore muscles. She rubbed her legs, and found herself yawning, her eyes watering from the motion. She quickly wiped away the tired tears, and looked up to see Philip had turned his attention back on to her. “Can I help you?” she asked, managing to stand up, though her legs felt wobbly like boiled noodles.
“You’re an odd one. Where was it you’re from, again?” he asked her, his blue eyes trained on her. Dracy regarded him a moment, before leaning against a railing with a sigh.
“I didn’t say where I was from,” the girl told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You wouldn’t believe me, anyway. And it’s really hard to describe. I’m not sure I entirely understand it all.”
“Understand all of what? Your accent, mannerism, and everything is so different from what those of the people of every place I’ve been to, and that list is very long indeed. Tell me the name of the place you come from, at least, instead of trying to describe it. I never told you to describe it,” Phillip replied to her, the frown on his face showing that he wasn’t amused in the least.
“How about this, a question for a question. I’ll answer yours, if you answer one of mine,” Dracy told him with a smirk, and after a moment the man nodded consent and motioned for her to answer and ask. “The place I’m from, well, the country, is called America. You’ve probably never heard of it.”
Phillip’s frown seemed to deepen. “No, I haven’t. I don’t recall it even from any map I’ve seen, or even heard whispers of such a place. Where about is it in relations to other countries?”
“Hey, you can’t ask more questions until I’ve had my turn,” Dracy cried, but Phillip just glared at her stubbornly, which made the girl sigh. “Alright, alright. Like I said, I don’t really understand it myself, but it’s on a different world. Some kind of parallel universe, only more advanced technology wise, but we don’t have magic or elves or dragons. Like, we’re so advanced we have these little hand-held devices that you can use to look up anything and have access to all the information in the world with, and yet most people use them to look at funny pictures of cats.” Dracy motioned with her hands of the size of the device was, and watched Phillip’s face. She couldn’t rightly read his emotions. He was quiet for a long time, and then suddenly he stepped really close, putting his face inches from her, looking her straight in the eyes. After a long moment he stepped back.
“I see, so it is true, then. The Otherworld really does exist. Then that means many of the old legends are very well true. Interesting, very interesting indeed. You have answered my question, now what is yours?” Phillip asked her, his face having an almost solemn look.
“Well, technically I should be allowed like three questions, but I only really have one. A line from what that dragon told us still is making me think, especially about you. ‘The chance of redemption is what I bring, for the heir of a fallen king’ is more specifically what I mean. I know my dad is not a king, there’s no way in the world. I’m not even from this world, so it couldn’t possibly be me, and it has to be one of us. I think you were lying when you said you didn’t know anything about that. Mister Iris, or should I say Dragonbain,” Dracy had dropped her voice to a whisper as she spoke so no one would overheard her words. She wasn’t too sure how much this crew of Phillip’s knew. Phillip, on the other hand, looked at her for a long moment.
“I told you,” he replied slowly. “I truly do not know what is mean by that. Our quest could mean we redeem someone else not later mentioned in the prophecy, Dragonback. But I would advise you not to speak of such things so openly again. For your safety and mine, and that of the journey we must under take.”
“If you say so,” Dracy said with a sigh, pushing herself off the railing. “Guess it really doesn’t matter. All I really care about is finding my dad in the end, wherever he is in this vast world. In the mean time, I’m getting some grub. Maybe now I’ll actually be able to keep it in my stomach. The boat feels like it’s barely moving after that rocking in that storm. Ugh, I better not think about it, though, or I will loose it.”
Dracy headed down below deck, Nelnya, who had been perched a little ways away on the railing, flying after her. Though it gave Phillip a wide berth, still not trusting him after their first encounter on the docks. The solemn expression did not leave Phillip’s face, though it turned a bit more thoughtful. He let his eyes wander off across the vast ocean. The revelations of where Dracy was from, opened up a whole history of legends to be truth. It answered many questions, but created many more. Questions that would likely never be answered.


Three days passed on the open ocean without event or problem. Repairs had been made to the ship, damages from the storm, as they sailed since there was nothing bad. A ripped canvas to be mended, or a bit of splintered wood to be nailed, but nothing much worst than that. Dracy spent most of her days in boredom, and trying to stay out of the way of the crew while also keep her meals down in her stomach, what little she ate. Often she would find Phillip sitting on the railing of the bow, feet dangling down towards the ocean. He would either be looking out across the ocean or writing in a small book that he kept tucked away in his vest pocket.
Occasionally he would seek her out and ask her questions about where she came from, about the geography and the cultures, and the lore. But he always seemed to walk away more perplexed than when he had come to ask the questions. Dracy often wondered what his fascination with it was, but never thought to ask.
But the silence of the trip did not last for very long. It ended very abruptly on a particularly chill night. The watches were especially drowsy and often found themselves dozing in the cool air. A cloud cover was above them, blocking out the stars and making the night darker. So the danger that crept upon them was not seen until it was too late. The ship, being much smaller, came up beside them. Men with boots bound with cloth so as to muffle the steps swung over to the ship. Many throats were slit before the intruders were noticed.
It was the man in the crow’s nest who realized it, starting from a sweet dream. He saw the ship beside them, and the colors of the flag it flew. He reached up and pulled the rope that rang a brass bell, causing it to ring out across the night. “Pirates! Pirates! Fire! Awake! Pirates!” he called out, but was stopped abruptly as an arrow to the chest knocked him from his high perch and sent him crashing to the deck below. But the bell and the cry had been enough. The crew of the merchant ship leapt to their feet, though bleary eyed, and jumped to defending the ship. The pirates had already slithered their way deep on board by then, and had found the storeroom.
The bell had been a break in the still air, and so the pirates threw aside all secrecy and silence and open fighting started on the ship. Cannons fired from the pirate boat, smashing gaping holes into the side of the merchant ship. In was the sound of this crashing that woke Dracy, who had no idea what was happened until she was pulled from her hammock roughly, bound and gagged. The pirates had made it to the storeroom, and started breaking open barrels and crates to find the more valuable goods on the ship. A group of pirates headed to the crew sleeping quarters to find a wall of swords at the door of men who had heard the bell and jumped to their feet in enough time to fight back. The crew managed to push the pirates back and onto the deck, though missed the ones in the storeroom. Those shoved what they could in their pockets, and sabers in hand, came up behind, cutting down crew men when they could.
In the end the defending crew were out matched and out manned. The pirates over came them in a fell swoop, especially when three ganged up on the captain and held swords to his neck in threat. Phillip, who had stood off against several pirates who had invaded his room, was finally brought down and thrown out onto the deck with the rest of the surviving crewmembers. They were forced on their knees, the hands bound behind their backs after much struggle, and lined up along one of the rails.
Several pirates kept watch over them, as the rest worked on transporting goods from the storeroom to the ship. At one point a pirate brought out Dracy, who was hefted over his shoulder, kicking and fighting as best she could, trying to scream around her gag. He set her down in the middle of the deck, forcing her to her knees and placing a dagger to his throat.
“Look what I found sleepin’ in the food room, cap’in,” the burly man chuckled, almost beaming at his discovery. “Don’t see many women on merchant ships, right, cap’in?”
The man commanding the raid, who now stood overseeing in the middle of the deck, looked over. He wore a long black coat over a dark tunic, a thick chain about his waist as a belt, a cutlass hanging from the chain, poking out of his jacket. Black dread locks adorned his head, partially covering his cruel burgundy eyes. His face was shaven but for a thin black like along his chin, making an already strong feature more prominent. With his heavy boots he strode over and pulled the sack from Dracy’s face, revealing the blond teary eyed head.
“You’re ride, this is the first woman we’ve found on a merchant ship raid,” the captain said, his voice graveled from a lifetime of harsh winds and tobacco, though it held more superiority and articulation than the slurred words of the lower ranked pirate. “A stowed run away? Or perhaps the captain has a concubine? Or maybe a different reason altogether to be here? Doesn’t matter. She’s ours now, taking aboard our ship!” he commanded. The crewman grinned a wide and crooked toothed grin, and picked up Dracy like she weighed nothing and slung her over his shoulder.
A clatter and sudden yelling drew the captain’s attention away from Dracy, and towards the other captives. One of them had gotten loose, knocking a pirate out and stealing his weapon. The dark haired man had cut down two other pirates before now running at the captain. Phillip was the one who had freed himself, having hoped to catch the captain off guard. But instead, quickly found his sword knocked from his hand, and forced to his knees again. The pirate captain had hold of his left hand, the opposite of his sword hand, great pain causing him to cry out.
The captain looked down at Phillip with a look of annoyed admiration. “Very interesting. I must give you credit for trying, lad. Breaking your thumb and just about skinning your hand to get one hand out of the shackles to be able to put up a fight. Tell me, how far were you hoping to get before you thought you might be overwhelmed, hm?” the captain inquired, though received no answer. Instead Phillip glanced at Dracy, who had already been carried to the other ship by now, and back up at the captain. “I see, so she was yours. Well, time to forget about her. But don’t worry, you won’t have to suffer without her for long.”
The man kicked his boot up, catching Phillip’s chin, causing him to fly back. The merchant went to get up, reaching for the sword again, but by then the captain had his cutlass drawn and lashed out at Phillip. He caught the man’s shoulder, and went for a downward killing stroke upon Phillip’s head, but Phillip managed to back up, only to be caught by two more pirates. The captain sneered at Phillip.
“Tie him to the mast, all the way around, even the chest. I don’t want him escaping again, not before the fireworks. Are the bombs set?” the captain ordered. The men holding Phillip dragged him to the mast while another pirate came forward.
“Bombs be set, captain,” he told the man with a big grin. “Ready to go off when we’re safe away.”
“Good. Back to the ship!” with those words from their leader the pirates laughed, kicking the merchant crew down, knocking most of them out, and followed their captain back onto the smaller ship.
As soon as Dracy heard the mention of a bomb, she started kicking and fighting harder, which only caused the man who held her to knock the back of her head with his hand to get her to stay still. She tried to cry out beyond her gag, but there was nothing she could do. The pirate held her on the deck as the rest walked the plank to their smaller vessel. Once all the pirates were on board, they pulled in the plank and cut the ropes before steering their ship away from the merchant boat.
The Captain came over to Dracy, grabbing her arm and hauling her to the railing. “You’re going to want to see this, lass. It’s a great show once I activate the bomb,” he chuckled, putting his hand on the top of her blond head and forcing her to look in the direction of the merchant ship. “Flashy sight in three, two, one.”
As soon as he said one, the ship was replaced by a great orb or blue light with white tendrils reaching straight out before started a decent down towards the water. The light had expanded from the ship, engulfing it in seconds before collapsing and going up in a great white mushroom cloud. The blue light was blinding, and left everyone blinking until they could see again. There had been no noise, only now was there the faint sounds of splashing in the water. It was then that Dracy realized that the white tendrils had been pieces of the ship blown out by the strange explosion. The only thing that was left in its place was the remnants of the belly, pieces sticking up out of the water like a shattered rib cage, and a minefield of floating wooden debris.
Dracy let out another cry, the gag in her mouth causing her to choke up from her sobs as tears started running down her face. She hung her head as her body trembled. Her knees would have collapsed under her if a pirate didn’t grab her.
“Take her to the brig. Let her be alone in her turmoil for a while. The rest of you head to port, steer clear towards home,” the captain commanded. The crew became a bustle of activity. Dracy was thrown in the brig, gag and bindings removed, and left alone in the small cold cell. She curled up in a corner, hugging her knees. With no hope of finding her father now, having no idea what she was supposed to do or who she could go to, she could only weep. She was a stranger in a world she didn’t understand, and there was nothing now she could do as the ship that carried her sailed quietly across the ocean.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

About time!
I forgot what happened in the rest of it! D=
Well. Maybe I'll remember once I start reading the new bit.... XD

Guess what?? Here's Chapter 4!!! Though if you go back, I deleted the snippet about Hailey in the previous chapters. She now has a chapter devoted completely to her. May still seem random, but there is a reoccurring character in there. That and our main bad guy(kind of) is named.

So here it is, Chapter 4! And possibly the longest chapter yet!



The spring morning air was crisp and pleasant, the dawning sky clear with just streaks of clouds. The west was still dark but the east was alight with bright colors as the sun peaked over the horizon. The birds sang their morning songs as dew fell across everything. Hailey found she always enjoyed watching the sunrise on clear days such as this, so she had woken early and come out to the near pasture and sat among the grazing horses for a moment of quiet before having to start the days chores and the rest of the estate woke up.
The girl sitting in the fields wore a simple blue dress of rough materials, no fancy designs. Just long sleeves, a rounded collar, and went down just above her ankles with a white apron around her waist. Her feet were bare yet dirtied, and her hair a strawberry blonde that gleamed in the morning light, flowing in graceful waves to her waist.
Hailey sat for a moment longer as she watched the sun rise. Then in the distance she heard a rooster crow and knew everyone else would be waking and it was time to start the day’s work. She was a servant at a grand horse farm, the master of the estate being a kind elderly man that dealt fairly with his staff, Hailey knew. She had lived here all her life, grown up on the farm, in fact.
Hailey got up, dusting herself off and ran back through the field towards the cluster of buildings, ducking between rails in the fence before going into the servant’s quarters kitchen. Inside was a heavy woman with a grey head of hair pulled back in a bun, stirring the contents of a large cauldron with a wooden spoon. The head servant of the estate, also the one who cooked breakfast since she tended to be up earlier than the rest.
Right away the woman spotted Hailey and the fact she had no shoes.
“Hailey, I swear the day you wear shoes of your own free will is the day I have an hourglass figure!” the woman huffed, getting an apologetic smile from the girl. She grabbed a bowl from some shelves and brought it to the woman, holding it out so that she could get her serving of breakfast gruel.
“Good thing you’re here early, Hailey. The master wants to see you as soon as you’re done with breakfast. You are to go to his study and wait for him. I have assigned your morning chores to a few others already so you need not worry about them,” the woman said as she spooned a bit of the cauldron into the girl’s bowl. Something in her tone made Hailey feel nervous since there was a dab of worry in her voice. But she simply nodded and found a place to sit in the line of tables in the room where the servants ate.
Gradually other servants came from the sleeping quarters above and grabbed their own bowls to be served breakfast and sit at the tables. With the room filling it grew from quiet to a clatter of voices, some grim and dreading the day’s work, others light hearted and laughing.
Hailey quickly finished her breakfast, cleaning her bowl in a wash sink before placing it back on the shelves. With a sigh she headed out the door, bare feet and all, and towards the main house. Where the building where the servants slept and ate was of simple wooden make, the main house was a bit grander looking, made of wood and plaster with vines growing up a lattice on one side and large windows with a wrap around porch.
Hailey entered through the back door into the mansion’s kitchens were there was a cook inside busy making breakfast for the family of the house. The master had a large family with his wife and eight children. His mother also lived in the house so he could take care of her in her old age. The master himself was a middle-aged man that already had grey growing in his beard and hair.
The servant girl went through the kitchen to a hall, and up a flight of stairs. Everyone she met told her that the master was waiting for her in the study, and their eyes followed her with a worried expression that Hailey didn’t notice. She finally came to the double doors of the study where she stopped, straightened her skirt, adjusted her hair, before knocking.
“Come in,” came the aged voice of the master from behind the door. Hailey turned the handle and entered, biting her bottom lip as she did so. She closed the door behind her, head bowed in respect. As the door clicked shut, and the girl looked up to find she wasn’t alone in the room with the master. He stood by the desk in the center of the room, wearing deep green robes, his beard in a mess and sleepy bags under his eyes that were visible even through the wrinkles caused by his smile. Leaning against the desk, facing her and the door stood a second man. He wore black cloths, from his boots to the beaked hood on his head that shadowed his face. He also looked ready for a fight with vambraces on his arms, and an array of weapons about his waist. He had a dark feel about him, and Hailey didn’t like it. Her eyes went back to the master who was making a point not to look directly at her.
“So, you’re Hailey,” the hooded said, his voice deep and gravelly. Hailey could feel his eyes boring down on her, and felt naked despite being fully clothed aside from missing shoes, which she became painfully aware of since she felt she was being critiqued under his gaze. Mechanically she nodded, not taking her eyes away from the master, waiting for him to say something. The expression of his face was strange. The smile had faded so that his mouth was now a grim line and his shoulders slumped slightly.
The stranger pushed himself from the desk. “Well, since no one else is speaking, I guess I’ll do the talking. Hello Hailey, I am Xavier Th’gil, but you can call me Wolfe. Or, more appropriately, master.”
A look of shock crossed Hailey’s face, as her eyes went back and forth between her master and this man Xavier who claimed to be her master. Her expression brought a chuckle from this strange man.
“Hailey, it’s alright,” the master spoke up, finally looking at her. “And it is true. He was and is your proper master. I was just caring for you. You see he was the one that brought you to my estate when you were just a babe. He had not the means to raise a child, but he said one day he would be back to take you away when he chose. Sadly, today is that day. Hailey, you are no longer a servant to me, but Xavier Th’gil. Serve him well like you have served me.”
Hailey felt herself trembling, shaking her head. She had always lived on this estate, had grown up here. The master she saw like a father, he was good to her. This man who claimed to now own her looked cold and cruel. Without another thought, she turned and ran out the door, down the stairs, and out towards the stables. She didn’t want to leave.
“That went better than I thought it would,” Wolfe chuckled.

Word had traveled quickly around the estate, despite no one actually saying anything. But the servants weren’t stupid, and in fact were given at least some degree of education. They put the pieces together. There were two strange horses in the stables that had been there upon awakening. One was a sturdy brown with black mane and tail. He was calm and friendly, and built to carry much weight despite being short in stature. The second was a great, long legged black stallion, a single white spot upon his forehead. He was mean tempered, and bit or kicked at anyone who dared come near him. That was only the first sign.
The second was when the master spoke with the head servant, and all of Hailey’s duties were to be permanently covered by various other staff. Hailey’s things had also been gathered into a small bag that had been left by the stranger’s horses. The final key was the fact that no one could find Hailey. The master had sold her, they thought, to this strange man, and Hailey didn’t want to leave.
Upon dashing out of the room, the stable girl had headed out of the house, through the yard, around the servants’ quarters and stables, over a tall fence, and into a wooded pasture. A pasture full of evergreens and oaks, the pine needles giving some cushion to her bare feet as she ran, weaving through the trees. Finally she came to a stream that crossed the pasture. She followed the stream until she came upon a great beech tree grew out over the creek. Its trunk seemed to hang just above the gurgling water, growing upwards at a slant so it’s branches reached over to the other side. It was held it place by great roots, at their thickest being bigger around than Hailey. They twisted and turned and buried underneath the bank of the creek, holding fast to keep the tree strong in place. Below, the creek was much deeper than the rest of the creek.
No one else but Hailey seemed to know of this tree that almost was a wonder of nature. Whenever she was in distress, she would perch on those great roots, and leaned against the trunk. No one ever found her there. So this was where she fled to now, sitting with her back to the trunk, hugging her legs, and weeping. She didn’t want to leave. This was her home.
“There you are!” the voice of the young man reached Hailey, causing her to look up in surprise. One of the other servants had actually found her? The girl sighed, and simply looked away from him as if he wasn’t there. “I saw you run this way, and when I lost sight of you and came to the creek, I saw footprints on the bank headed this way. So this is where you go when you disappear.” Still Hailey didn’t answer. “I know, you’re upset about the whole thing with leaving, right? Leaving with that strange man that showed up. But, you know, it’s always good to get out and see the world. You’ve only ever lived here, and known the estate. All the rest of us have come to work here from other places. Don’t you want to know what’s beyond those pasture fences?”
Hailey shook her head, still not looking at him. Though she did quickly wipe away her tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. The young man sighed, crossing his arms.
“Listen, I was told to find you and bring you back. I know it must be hard for you, but you had to figure you couldn’t stay here forever. That man might not look very nice, but you should know our master well enough. He wouldn’t give you to someone who would be cruel to you. He would never allow it, no matter how much was offered or what was said. You should trust the old man,” the servant remarked. Hailey still didn’t budge from her spot. “Okay, you don’t want to go easy? Then we’ll do this the hard way.”
The boy stepped out onto the roots, grabbed Hailey by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of horse feed. Hailey gave out a cry, and started kicking and punching, wiggling to get free. But he had a firm grip on her, and started trudging back towards the buildings. After awhile, Hailey grew tired of fighting and relaxed, just hanging there as he carried her.
As they got to the fence, he set her down, and insisted she go first. Knowing she had no choice, she climbed over the gait, and headed to the courtyard even as the boy was still climbing over. When she came around the last corner of a building to the courtyard, she wasn’t surprised to find it occupied. In the middle stood the master, that man Th’gil, and the two horses. Around the edges were scattered some of the other servants, who had paused in their work to see what was going to happen, and to see Hailey off.
The old master came over to Hailey as soon as he saw her. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t fret, young one. I have known Wolfe for many long years. He will do you good and keep you safe,” the master told her, and led her closer to the hooded man and his horses. Hailey bowed her head, knowing she couldn’t escape this, even if she wanted to.
“So you finally came back around. Just in time to leave,” Wolfe told her, though he didn’t mention how they had been waiting for several hours now. “You’ll be riding the pony. His name is Al.”
As if on a cue, one of the stable hands came up to help Hailey on the horse. The girl didn’t move at first, but eventually mounted up. Wolfe swung up onto his horse with graceful ease. “It was good to see you again, old friend. May your purse nor your storeroom ever be found empty,” Wolfe nodded to the old master.
“Aye. Keep your sword sharp, and your wit keen,” the master replied, and without another word fled to the main house. Wolfe kicked his black stallion onward, the little bay that Hailey rode following without lead or command. No one in the courtyard moved until the two riders were out of sight and the head servant came out to yell at them to get back to work.

Master and servant rode in silence for a long time, until Wolfe broke the silence. “Your duties to me are simple. When we stop to camp, you will care for your horse, cook or prepare meal, clean, and mend cloths when necessary. I will also show you how to sharpen a weapon so you will also be charged with keeping my spare knives sharpened. Do not touch my horse, Sha’taal. He will more than likely kill you, since he allows only me near him. You do as I say, when I say it. You may be a servant, not a slave, but I won’t allow you to quit. There is payment and rewards for you if you are obedient. Is all this understood?” he said. There was a long pause of silence. He turned to look at her. “I said, is that clear?” He saw her nod her head, though she did not look up at him. Wolfe turned forward in the saddle again. “Good. Though when I was told you didn’t speak much, maybe it should have been said that you don’t speak at all.”
After that they rode in silence again. Neither said a word as they followed the road. When it started growing dark, Wolfe led the way off the road to make temporary camp. Upon dismounting, Hailey found herself stiff and sore. It was difficult to do the tasks given to her that way, but she got it done without complaint. No fire was made, but Wolfe told her simply to get some travel rations. That would be their main meal when on the road. Before bed, Wolfe showed her the idea behind how to sharpen a blade, though didn’t let her try. Not yet, he told her.
The next morning they were on the road again, barely a word said as they packed up camp and moved on. Wolfe made the occasional comment, but otherwise didn’t speak, while Hailey didn’t say anything at all. The next few days of riding were like this, stopping to camp at nightfall, and rising with the sun to be on the road. Meals were meager yet filling. Unused to riding, Hailey was often stiff and saddle sore, but would simply grit her teeth and do as she was told.
On the third day of riding they reached a great city. A great wall surrounded the main city, though many homes and huts had been erected around the outside of the wall. At mid day, the great gates were wide open, though constantly watched by guards, who eyed Wolfe as he road past. The assassin didn’t give the guards a second glance as he navigated his horse through the cobblestone streets of the city. His horse tossed his head at all the people, biting at anyone that didn’t get out of the way fast enough. Though Wolfe did not go far, staying in the lower part where the streets were dirty, and there were beggars on the corners. Hailey barely saw the tips of the towers of the castle planted at the center of the city over the surrounding buildings.
They found themselves at an Inn, small and looked run down. Hailey was told to remain mounted while Wolfe dismounted and went inside. Soon he emerged from the crooked doorway and commanded Hailey to dismount and stable the horse she rode. As she did so, Wolfe took care of his own, and soon the two steeds were munching on hay in separate stalls while they carried the gear into the tavern. Right inside was a hallway; to the left was a window to what looked to be an office and behind it a kitchen. Straight ahead it opened up to a common room, and to the right was a flight of stairs. Wolfe took the stairs, and used a key to open one of the doors that lined the hall of the upper story.
The room was bare save for a table with a lantern and washbasin, and a cot in the corner. Hailey glanced at the small cot warily as she brought her gear to the corner. Suddenly she found she didn’t have the strength to hold them, and it all dropped heavily to the floor, shaking all the nearby walls.
“Careful,” Wolfe snapped, setting his gear down and closing the room door. “Don’t get too comfortable, we won’t be here long. Dinner will be sent up, and I’ll be gone tonight. The saddles could use cleaning, so that’s what you’ll be doing while I’m gone,” he told her. He got her to start separating the bags and harnesses from the saddles while he checked his weapons and gear.
A knock came to the door and a woman wearing an apron brought in dinner on a small platter. She simply placed it on the table and left without a word, while Wolfe locked the door behind her. It wasn’t a fancy meal, just two biscuits, some meat, cheese, and a bit of mead. Neither of them touched the drink.
Even though the room had no window, Wolfe seemed to know what it was nighttime. He stood and told her not to expect him for some time, before leaving. Hailey sat for a moment, this being her first time alone since leaving the estate. She lay down on the cot, closing her eyes for a bit, feeling tired. This had been the first time being in a city, so it had been a bit exciting for her.
When she woke, Wolfe still wasn’t back, but all about came the pattering noise of a heavy rain. That was what had woken her up, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. So she sat down on the floor and pulled one of the saddles close, getting the leather cleaner from one of the bags and a rag. She got to work cleaning the saddle, finding herself becoming short of breath often and having to stop for breaks. This wasn’t even hard work. Eventually she finished and put the first saddle back, before going to pick up the second. When she straightened with it, her head started spinning. She paused, waiting for it to pass, but it only grew worse until she found herself falling, the weight of the saddle landing on top of her. That was the last thing she remembered.

The night was dark, starless and moonless from the clouds that covered the sky. And what made matters worse was the fog that had filtered in, covering everything from the rain that fell in sheets of tiny drops that stung the bare skin. That’s why the silent runner was glad he had his cloths made special to be waterproof, though his face was partially uncovered where his eyes were. But those eyes were hidden in the shadow of his cowl. But no one saw him as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop of the vast stone city.
His legs pumped and jumped with ease from innumerable years of training. He skidded to a halt at the edge of a building, glancing down a split second at the deserted cobblestone alley before looking up at the next building. The next rooftop was a whole story higher, but this didn’t pose a problem to him.
Dark eyes glanced back where he had come, expertly picking out the figures of pursuers in the darkness. It wasn’t too hard, since several held lanterns. The man looked back to the building and jumped. He reached out and caught a windowsill, hanging still a moment before scaling up the building. The large old stones were corroded and offered good finger holds. Within seconds he was lifting himself onto the building’s rooftop, and on his way again, red sash flying behind him like a tail.
Two more blocks, and he was lost to pursuers, hidden among the bushes of a small courtyard garden. His breathing was even as he waited in silence for minutes, then an hour, keeping ears perked for anything other than the patter of rain in the sleeping city. He could hear a cat stirring in the bushes, the sleeping grumbles of a homeless man on the street, but no sound of pursuers.
With a heavy sigh, he stepped from his hiding place, following the darker shadows of the streets as he crept back towards the Inn. The deed had been done, the contract was dead, and no one was the wiser of who had done it. Word would spread of the shadow in the night that had killed the noble, leaving only a black raven feather as a clue to who had done it. It was one of the reasons why he was often referred to as the black wing assassin. Because the stories went that he flew in out of nowhere, killed the target, leaving only a black feather, and disappeared without a trace as having flown away. The rumors weren’t entirely true, of course, but he liked the idea of them.
The lights were off at the Inn at that time of night. Most of the patrons to the common room had retired to their rooms or gone home. He crept through the building as if he wasn’t there, simply a shadow against the wall that one might glance at the corner of their eyes, but find gone upon a closer look. He was up the stairs in several leaps, and with a simply click, opened the door.
Inside the lantern was still lit, and the room smelled like leather oils. Right away he spotted the girl, passed out on the middle of the floor, saddle on her legs. He frowned, bent down and moved the saddle. He remembered the door, and quickly shut and locked it before returning to the girl.
Wolfe removed a glove and put it to the girl’s face. She was burning up, a good sweat having covered her face. The assassin cursed under his breath and picked her up to place her on the cot. He put a blanket over her, before getting a rag and soaking it in water from the washbasin. This he put on her forehead to help break her fever. When this was done, he sat at the foot of the cot and rubbed his eyes. This was not supposed to happen. This was very inconvenient. He wanted to leave the city in the morning, but there was no way the girl would be fit to travel. And he wasn’t about to leave her here. All he could do was wait.
And wait he did as dawn came and the day passed, often getting new water and keeping the rag on her head damp. He also changed out the sweaty blanket with one of the travel blankets, going back and forth so she wouldn’t be as drenched. At one point she started tossing and turning, and thrashing. Wolfe noticed her lips moving as if she were saying something, but even putting his ear to her mouth he heard no voice, as if she did not have the ability to speak at all.
All he could do was wait and care for her, getting food, and trying to wake her up to eat. At one point he got her conscious enough to drink, but she quickly fell back asleep. Wolfe also went to see to the horses, to make sure they were cared for. With the way things were looking, he also paid for another night at the Inn. Which was spent in much the same manner as the day, though he sat against the door and get snatches of sleep.
Morning the second day came, and Wolfe fetched more water for her head rag, catching bits of rumors from the men in the common room. Already word was spreading of the murder of the noble. But he did not bother with them, instead going back to the room quickly.
Noon came and so did a knock at the room door. Wolfe frowned, readying a blade, but kept it hidden behind the door before opening it a crack. There stood the large man that owned the Inn.
“Can I help you?” Wolfe asked.
“Yeah, you can help me by clearin’ out of that room. I’ve got a full house, and a room that needs to be empty,” the man said gruffly.
“I’ll pay you for another night. It wouldn’t be a problem,” Wolfe countered with a glare.
“I don’t care about that. You’ve been here two nights, taking up a room and two stalls. I’ve got fellows down there who need a room more than the likes of you could. Honest coin they have, and I trust the look of them more than you. You’ve been here one night too many already, and taking precious clean water, too!” The keeper demanded. Wolfe glared, and cracked the door open a bit further so he could see the cot.
“Look, I’ve got a sick girl in here, who shouldn’t be moved. I said I’ll pay you for the night, and I’ll pay you for the water, too,” Wolfe snapped.
“I don’t care if your grandma’s sick! That’s your problem, not mine. Now get out yourself, or I’ll get you out myself. Either way, you ain’t staying here, you got that? You’ve got fifteen minutes to book it.” With that the keeper stalked away back down the stairs. Wolfe snarled behind his back, and closed the door. He glanced at Hailey, before packing things up. During the last day, he had also managed to clean the second saddle, and put all the bags back on.
Wolfe carried the gear and bags down first, tacking up the pony and Sha’taal. Then he went back up and got Hailey, carrying her down in a travel blanket. Back in the stables with the girl, he whispered to the big black horse, before putting the girl on Sha’taal’s back. He went back inside and grudgingly turned in the key before leaving the Inn altogether. Wolfe knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of the city, but had to stop as soon as possible, or too much movement wouldn’t be good for the girl. Luckily it didn’t take him too long to find a good place, because he knew this city well enough.

Hailey woke up unsure of how much time had passed, having been slipping in and out of dreams, strange dreams that often haunted her. Only this time she was dreaming of being sick, only in another place and time, laying on a comfortable mattress covered in think blankets, fluffy pillows cushioning her neck, being nurtured by a caring mother. But all these things she had never experienced for herself, not even knowing a mother, unless in her dreams.
Her reality was much harsher, though when she awoke, she wasn’t in the same place as before. No small room with wooden walls and an uncomfortable cot. Instead she found herself with close stone walls on three sides, reaching up to stop at open sky. Under her was hard stone cushioned only by a few blankets. Her head rested on leather, a saddle, and a single blanket covered her.
Two men leaned over her, one with a hand on her forehead whispering, the other just watching. She recognized the watcher as her master, Wolfe, with his long raven black hair, dark eyes, narrow but clean-shaven face. The other she didn’t know who he was. A brown beard peppered with gray, Matching shoulder-length brown hair, and a thick nose. He was adorned all in red. The man stopped, and examined her.
“The fever’s broken. And look, she awakens! She shall be just fine. It’s a good thing you called, because this wasn’t just an ordinary illness, and would have needed a magical touch in order to be dispelled,” the man explained. Wolfe nodded.
“Thank you Vincent, how much do I owe you?” Wolfe asked. Vincent glanced down at the girl.
“Rest, child. Rest knowing the worse is over,” Vincent comforted her, before standing, and going to leave the alley, leaning heavily on a red wooden staff. Wolfe stood and followed, but their voices drifted back to Hailey.
“I know you don’t work for free, Druid. So how much coin do you want?” Wolfe asked again.
“I need not any coin. As king’s advisor, I’ve got all that I need. No, instead you can help me with something else. I’m sure a man of your… career, would know how to get ahold of an herb called Moongale? Or wouldn’t happen to have any on your person, would you?” Vincent inquired, glancing over to the girl to see she had fallen asleep, before looking back at the assassin.
“Moongale? What in the dragon’s nest would a druid advisor want with that? The only things that’s used for is a weak sleeping poison that-“
“I know what it is used for, but I have my reasons for wanting some. I’m guessing you don’t have any, but where might I acquire such an item?” Vincent cut Xavier off before the assassin could continue. Wolfe glared.
“I have a cousin in the city, and skilled herbalist, even in the more dangerous herbs. He’ll have what you want. I’m sure you’ve heard of Daimyan,” Wolfe explained, crossing his arms.
“That half blood that heads the thieves guild with that woman from Ray’s Beak? You must be joking, Xavier,” Vincent replied, starching his head.
“No, I’m not, and I don’t care for your tone. Blood mean nothing in this world. You should know that just as much as I, with that false king you counsel. Now off with you,” the assassin snapped. Vincent sighed, and went to walk away, before turning back.
“Just one more thing before leaving. A little bird dropped a letter to me, a stranger to me that must’ve known I knew you. It’s addressed to you, so I supposed I should give it to you, just give me a moment to find it,” the druid dug his hand into a pouch at his waist, pushing his hand further in there than it looked like the little bag aught to allow. After a moment of digging, he pulled out a letter, crisp and clean and sealed with a dollop of wax. Vincent handed the letter to Wolfe, before taking his leave.
Wolfe glared down at the letter, seeing his name written neatly on the front, though no sigil was on the seal. He opened it with a knife, and read the letter inside, cursing to himself. He glanced at Hailey. She would be all right. He stuffed the letter in a pocket, checked to make sure he had all his weapons, before mounting Sha’taal and riding away.
Though of course night had fallen when he reached his destination, a very dark alley between abandoned buildings. A close alley where the horse could not go would not go. So Wolfe was forced to dismount and continue on foot into the alleyway. It led to a small courtyard; with two other exits just as narrow as the one he took, barely big enough for a single man to walk abreast. Grass and shrubs had taken the floor of the courtyard, and leaning against one was stood a lone man. Long coat, black hair, and red eyes.
“So the druid finally gave you my letter?” the mysterious man asked Wolfe casually.
“Yes, he did. Now what do you want Morcun?” Wolfe snapped.
“Well, talk about getting straight to the point, and here I was willing to have a little small talk first. But then, you’ve always been less talk and more action, haven’t you?” the vampire bemused with a smirk. “Oh, wipe the look of your face, I just paid you a compliment. I’m getting to my point so don’t worry Th’gil. But first I hear you have a little tag-along now. A stable girl with strawberry blond hair, am I right? Makes me wonder why the brooding lone Wolfe decided to pick up a servant now of all times.”
“That is none of your business, nosferatu, none of my business is. Not get to your point before I loose my patience any further,” Wolfe growled. Morcun chuckled and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and stepped closer.
“My business is that girl. We want her; need her for a few plans. Give her to me, Xavier, and you’ll be rewarded handsomely,” Morcun purred, holding out an alluring hand.
Wolfe strode up to the vampire, and stuck a hand around the man’s pale throat, squeezing tight. “Now you listen here, Morcun. I told you she is none of your business. She is mine, and mine only. You won’t have her. Whoever you work with won’t have her, either. I don’t know what you’re planning, and honestly, I don’t care. But my servant and I will have no part in it. Go play or little games with someone else.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Morcun sneered. He whipped out a dagger faster than Wolfe could react, cutting the man’s arm. Wolfe cried out, and released the vampire’s neck, but retaliated with a punch to the face. The vampire staggered back, straightening and wiping away the blood from a split lip. But the punch did not get rid of the smirk upon the vampire’s face.
“Listen well, assassin. My benefactor and I have great need of your little servant girl. She is a key, you see,” Morcun explained coolly.
“Benefactor? And who might that be? You’re not smart enough to figure something out like a random girl being a key,” Wolfe spat, causing the vampire to glare, but continue to smirk.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re greatly familiar with him, him being a Gaeln and all. You do remember Gamreal, don’t you? He certainly remembers you, and sends his regards,” Morcun stated.
As the mention of the name, Wolfe’s face was one of shock, before quickly turning to anger and hatred. “Gamreal?! Gamreal is the one pulling your strings? That shameless piece of dirt! He’s no Gaeln,” Wolfe snapped, and then stopped, letting out a pain filled grown, he clutched his stomach and fell to his knees. Wolfe found he was suddenly gasping for breath, and then looked down at the wound on his arm, before looking back at the vampire. “You! What did you do?”
Morcun chuckled. “Gamreal is more Gaeln than you are in your current state. At least he still has his snow-white wings. Unlike you. I wonder, do the scars still hurt on occasion, even though it’s been so long since they were clipped off?”
“Damn you, vampire!” Wolfe found himself coughing, leaning over just in time to heave. The contents of his stomach splattered onto the ground in front of him. Several more heaved and his stomach was empty. The assassin glared back up at Morcun, who watched with satisfaction.
“You know, you of all people should know to be wary of knives. Who knows what they could be laced with, or contain,” Morcun said, pulling out the thin knife and flashing it in front of Wolfe’s nose. “A needle blade. A rare knife, which hold a vial in the blade itself that seeps the edges with what ever the wielder decided to fill it with, injecting just like a needle. Don’t worry, you’re not poisoned Wolfe. I wouldn’t do that to you. No, it was simply blood inside. My blood,” the vampire squatted down in front of Wolfe so his head was close. Wolfe grunted, his hand going to his mouth as pain contorted his face. The assassin pulled out a tooth, and then another. With his tongue he felt sharp ones taking the place of his canines.
“Can you feel it, Th’gil? Your heart slowly pounding to a stop, your stomach turning itself inside out as your head pounds? Your throat becoming so dry it feels as if the waters of the ocean would never quench your thirst. Yet you do not thirst for water, but something much thicker and richer. Your ears will soon ring, and your muscles spasm and tingle from lack of blood flow. Your heart will stop completely, as you collapse, unable to move. Then you’ll feel something pulsing through you, bringing your body back, each muscle working itself back awake, adjusting to the body chemicals that you are so suddenly creating so that your body will function without a beating heart,” Morcun watched as Wolfe’s muscles started twitching and having a spasm just like he had predicted. Wolfe fell to the ground, rolling on his back, gasping for breath.
“I will see you again soon, my child. Oh yes, very soon. Enjoy the night life, try not to kill too many people,” Morcun chuckled, before walked away, back down one of the small alleyways, his laugh echoing back to Wolfe’s ringing ears.

Hailey felt whiskers and lips against her face. She groaned, and pushed against the fuzzy muzzle without opening her eyes, wanting to slip a little longer. But the nose came back, the big lips rubbing her nose. When she didn’t respond, the muzzle went to the top of her head, and with long teeth pulled the strawberry blond hair.
Hailey yelped and pushed away the nose, sitting straight up, eyes wide. She glared up, but was surprised to find that it was Sha’taal that stood over her. The big black horse had never let her go near it, or even allowed itself to be touched, and yet it was waking her up, wasn’t kicking or biting at her.
The stallion snorted, and grabbed the collar of her dress with its teeth, tugging slightly before letting go. Sha’taal stepped away, heading out of the alcove, before stopping and turning to look at Hailey expectantly. The girl blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Still there. Biting her lip, she stood, and found she felt refreshed and strengthened. Had being sick been just a dream?
She didn’t have time to think as the black started trotting off, out of the alcove and down the alley. Hailey took off after him, bare feet pattering against the cobblestone ground. She followed the horse for some distance, before hearing a distant scream and freezing. Sha’taal looked back and nickered to her, shaking his head, and walking on. Hesitantly, Hailey followed the horse. It was then she realized Wolfe was nowhere to be seen, not having been there when she woke up. Was Wolfe in trouble?
Sha’taal rounded a corner before halting. Hailey almost ran into his big butt, but caught herself by simply patting it, glad that he didn’t kick her, before walking to stand beside him. She meant to go in front, but was stopped with a gasp. In the dark alley ahead, a black clad figure hunched over the lifeless body of a woman. Sha’taal snorted, causing the figure to look up, dropping the body. He straightened, and with a few short steps was upon Hailey. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close.
The black stallion cried out, and rose up on its hind legs, kicking out with his front. The figure raised up a hand. “Back Sha’taal!” Came the familiar voice. The stallion got down on all fours, watching, but kept his ears pinned and teeth barred. The figure looked down at Hailey, who found herself looking up at the face of Wolfe. Only blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes shown red.
He leaned forward, kissed her neck, before biting in. Hailey gasped, eyes wide. How long had Wolfe been a vampire? She felt herself growing weak, the night growing darker. He would kill her. Before she passed out, she felt Wolfe pull away, saw his dark eyes looked down at her. He closed his eyes, and growled deeply, before grunting. Hailey watched as springing from his back in that moment came two dark wings. Too big to fully stretch out in the alley, but instead they encompassed the two. Leather bat like wings edged with dark feathers. A loose feather fell and floated passed Hailey’s face, brushing her nose. That was the last thing she remembered before collapsing in Wolfe’s arms.

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

After several months, Chapter 5 is finally up! Yay!


A thousand diamonds falling down,
Making their path to the ground.
And when they finally hit the earth,
The diamonds show their true worth.

Sparkling bright in twilight sun,
To each other now they clung.
A white wave on solid ground,
Growing taller without a sound.

In the night a cold wind blows,
Not knowing what it sews.
And in the morning it is done,
A white blanket lay in the sun.

A blanket not to keep you warm,
But one that is easily torn.
It may stay throughout the day,
But in the warmth it fades away.

Where Spring sun ends the white
Winter will bring it back to life.
That cold blanket as you know,
Is the chill of winter snow.

“And yet the snow of Northfall never disappears, it’s not there just for winter, but all bloody year. It whips, wails and moans, and chills me all the way to my poor bones,” the man grumbled under his breath, his voice caught in the wind that whipped by him, spraying just the thing he sang about into his face. “By the dragons! Why did that blasted woman decide to live all the way out in Winter’s Cradle”?
The man trudged alone across the plain, a white sea that reached in all directions. His path was marked simply by short pinnacles of rock that barely stuck above the thick layer of swirling snow. The noon sky was gray, thick with storming clouds dropping their hazy flakes onto the desolate land bellow. The man glanced over his shoulder, barely seeing the distant peaks far on the horizon, and noticed all but the last couple footprints had already been covered.
“At least no one can track and follow me,” he said, looking ahead again, “Not that anyone would want to,” he continued on, each footstep crunching into the snow half a foot. He thanked his coin purse for having enough to get him the triple layered fur lined boots, the thick fur lined cloak, cloves, and just about every other necessary article of clothing. Sure it was heavier, but at least he could still feel his fingers and toes, even if his nose felt like an icicle despite being covered with a heavy cloth. He was glad he also managed to find them dyed green and brown, the colors he was used to wearing. But keeping his old cloths in his pack along with his quiver and bow just added more weight to his person. It slowed him down, and his errand was most important.
The man came to another stone marker, and pulled out a piece of wood and a knife and cut a notch. He had done this at every marker, to keep count of how far he was, and how far he had yet to go. Counting the notches, he sighed, and moved on again, each step heavy and sluggish. He sang to himself to keep his spirits up, and his heart warm, passing the long hour it took him to reach the next marker. Another notch went into the stick, which he counted, and nodded to himself. This was it.
He paused for a moment, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake, counting the notches in his stick once again. He hoped he didn’t miss one. “You can do this Gain! You can do this! You have to do this!” he breathed, saying his own name, emphasizing its two syllables as it was pronounced Guy-in. He turned to his right and started trudging along, pulling out a new stick.
He placed a notch in the stick every two paces, knowing that would be the same as a yard with the length of his strides. He got so concentrated on counting his steps; he didn’t notice the chill that was seeping in through his coat from the constant pounding of the wind and falling snow. His steps started sinking till the snow was half way to his knee now, but still he kept on. The wind blew harder, and he did not realize it was blowing him gradually off course. This had been the perilous part of the journey, he knew. But the mountains that surrounded the cradle made compasses useless, and having no stars or sun to guide a path, it was impossible to know he was veering slightly to the north.
But maybe that fatal error was what saved his life in the end. The temperature was dropping as the hidden sun started to set. In the back of his mind, Gain knew he had to stop and make a fire, but he was determined to continue further. Until he heard a voice in the wind, which caused him to stop and look up, squinting his eyes against the rapidly falling snow. Had he simply imagined it? He didn’t see anything, so he continued on.
Again the voice came, this time louder. Gain halted, and looked up. This time he saw the two shapes in the storm. They had to be fifty feet in front of him and closing in. One was as tall as a horse, but much broader and stalky. The second was smaller, notably human. He hadn’t made them out before, he realized, because both figures were completely in white, and he saw them now while they were close only because they were moving.
A growl reached his ears, as the glint of a blade appeared in the human’s hand, as they grew closer.
“You’re a long way from the road,” the voice yelled out through the wind. Gain nodded.
“I’m looking for someone who lives out here. A woman usually carries a sword and two curved knives. Knows a little bit of magic, if the tales are true,” Gain yelled back, his voice hoarse to his ears.
“A long way for chasing a tale. Who are you and what is your business here?” the figure demanded.
“I am ranger Gain Windfoot. I come seeking the Lady Rosewing. My business deals only with her,” he replied, his voice slowly fading as he felt his energy starting to drain away. The great dog shadow gave a deep growl and a bark, as the other cried out. Gain found himself falling face first into the deep snow.

Fist one eye, then the two bottom eyes. The top eye blinked, and then the two matching icy blue bottom eyes. Optics that stood out on the face of the blue fuzzy beast, looking down the long muzzle, ending with a big black nose with a crescent scar on the corner. The lips pulled back to reveal large sharp teeth as a deep growl rose from its throat, felt more than heard.
Gain had not been awake long when he found himself staring into this horse-sized face. He had never seen anything like it before, a giant three-eyed dog. Gain blinked a few times himself, wondering if he was just seeing things. Especially since he wasn’t in the snow and wind anymore, but wrapped up in a pile of blankets on a bed. He was inside of some cabin that could be heard creaking and moaning occasionally as if fighting off a large natural force. He could hear the crackle of a fire, and see the warm flickering lights about the corners of the room he could see around the big furry head that stared intently at him.
“Good dog,” Gain said, receiving only a growl from the beast.
“Stand down, Sir,” came a clear voice from across the room. The beast looked over his shoulder before stepping back and sitting down. Gain wondered how the floor was strong enough for such a creature. It was almost bigger than a horse. But the thing sitting down allowed him to get a better look at where he was. It was small cabin, with a fireplace on the far wall. A slender figure stood in front of the fireplace, silhouetted by the dancing flames.
“You must have a lot of power to command such a beast,” Gain commented to the figure, the creature growled at him, and the figure came forward. It was notably feminine.
“Sir is not a beast, and I do not command him as you might thing. If he wished to bite your head off, I would not have the power to stop him,” she told him curtly, arms crossing over chest. “Now, Gain, why are you here? Did King Breadon send you to finally end my treacherous days?” The figure stepped to stand above the bed, and Gain was now able to see her clearly. Pale skin, storm grey eyes, an X shaped scar on her jaw, flame colored hair pulled back in a braid.
“Now Briella, you know me better than that. Rangers are neutral, and don’t do errands for kings, especially those like Breadon the plump and ravenous. No, I’m here for another reason. I will tell you everything,” Gain said, only to have his stomach growl loudly, demanding food. “But, I would be more willing to talk with a little food in my stomach. What do you say?”
Briella sighed, and walked back to the fireplace. Gain sat up, as he did so Sir growled at him, and he realized that he had been stripped down to his pants. He pulled one of the blankets over him to cover himself. “Err, two things. One, is Sir going to bite me? And two… where I my cloths? I’m a bit indecent.”
“No sudden movements and you have nothing to worry about with Sir. He is just overly protective. As for your cloths, they needed to be removed to warm you up. The chill had crept in. You’re lucky I found you when I did, or frostbite would have taken a few limbs,” came the reply, and Gain found a shirt thrown at his face. He sighed, and pulled it over his head before stepping out of his bed. He noted how cozy warm it was in the small cabin. He went over and sat down on a chair by the fire at Briella’s gesture, and waited. Eventually the woman thrust a bowl of something hot and soupy into his hands, and he started eating gratefully as she sat down.
Gain watched her as he ate, noting the thick tunic and leggings she wore to keep warm. Though she didn’t seem to notice him staring as those harsh gray eyes stared into the dancing fireplace. The ranger quickly ate the stew that she had handed to him till the bowl was empty and he set the bowl to the side.
He stiffened as the big three-eyed beast came over and lay down next to and partially behind Briella. The woman reached out a hand and started stroking the top of his great head while he panted.
“What is he?” Gain asked, watching the beast that watched him with its tree eyes. “Your… companion. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Sir is a creature known as an Anan, which comes from the fields of Everim. They are a guardian race, which chose something, someplace, or someone to guard and protect for the rest of their lives. They are incredibly rare, and cannot be found unless they want to be,” Briella replied, her voice remaining flat and emotionless as she kept looking into the fire.
“Amazing, and you have one as a companion? A protector, even? How?” Gain’s curiosity was evident in his voice as he looked at the creature with a new understanding and wonder.
“By pure chance. Not long after my… banishment, I was in a tight spot. Wounded and pursued by mercenaries after the bounty on my head, I dared cut through the plains of Everim on foot, making for the eastern border. Without knowing, I walked right through Anan territory. Sir picked up my scent and followed me for two days until the mercenaries caught up. It was like he came out of nowhere, killing my pursuers to the last man. I collapsed and he carried me to safety. When I was healed, I tried to leave him, telling him to go home. I didn’t want him, but I couldn’t get rid of him. Upon learning what he is, I realized there was no chance. Out of a snap decision from his part, he had bound himself to me, as unwilling as I was,” she explained to the ranger. Gain listened wide-eyed with wonder. Briella looked over at him just then. “Oh, stop gawking, ranger. I know you’ve heard even better tales.”
Gain blinked, and looked away, clearing his throat as he did so. “Ah, yes, I suppose I have. As well as seen many wonders myself. I just didn’t expect something like that from you, is all. I mean no offense. Just, knowing even a small snip of what befell you since your… fall, there is only one thing I can say: it sounds like you have traveled further and seen more than most rangers,” the man said.
Briella regarded him for a moment. The man in front of her was an interesting one, with his shaggy mop of blond hair, light stubble on his chin, curious blue eyes, and weathered features. He had long legs, perfect for the large amount of walking that rangers did, but held a stockiness about his, without being over sized. In fact, she would say he was shorter than she was, if not by a centimeter or two. His age was hard to guess, with creased lines about the mouth and eyes, and yet those blue optics revealed still a child-like wonder.
“You should know yourself that traveling to distant, unfamiliar lands brings new wonders, Windfoot. Though you travel for enjoyment, exploration, and vigilance, I did so for different reasons. Hunted by my fellow countrymen and mercenaries, unwelcome by any folk of neighboring countries, one is forced to travel. To keep moving, going out of their way to hide the trail and avoid contact. Never going to the same place twice. That way of life takes you to further places than most,” she told him, her voice turning quiet with an eerie calm like a sleeping malice hid inside.
“I… see. But one thing I wonder still is what brought you to make a final destination in this frozen hell called Northfall?” Gain inquired, his lips becoming a thin line. Briella gave out a laugh, which startled him, though it was noticeably forced.
“That is simple. Everyone who cares about who I am is smart enough to stay away, or is not brave enough to come this far so I knew I’d be left alone. After those long years of travel, I found myself more willing to fight elements and ravenous wolves than more people,” she explained, sighing as she stroked Sir’s head.
“Wait, back up. So you’re calling me either brave or stupid?” Gain inquired, shocked.
“That or very determined. As to which you are, I have yet to decide. Which brings me to the question of why are you here?” Briella’s grey eyes became harsh as she watched him carefully now. The idle chatting was over, and it was time to get down to business. Gain knew it as well, and with a serious face, he looked straight into her eyes.
“I’ve come to fetch you. You need to come back to Salerno,” he told her flatly. Briella glared at him fiercely, Sir growled at him.
“Come to Salerno? You certainly are a fool, Windfoot! Never again will I return there, or it will be the day I die. You might as well go back the way you came and find some other exiled knight,” she snapped at him with a fierce anger.
“Listen to me, things have changed since you’ve been gone. It’s been eight years, Gabriella. Everything is different. Most would not remember your face, and the rest wish for your return. A storm is on the horizon, and you’re needed! The seer is dead; the gatekeeper is missing, and the enemy is moving. The people are crying out for their champion. Would you deny them that? You may be exiled, may have been a dog to a warmonger, may have done regrettable things, but I know you. Deep down, above all else, you are a knight, and live by a code of valor, honor, and pride. A code that tells you to protect the people, and come to their aid when they call for their champion. Those were the morals that brought you against all odds to follow your father’s footsteps and become a knight. You want to make up for your sins? Come with me to Salerno. I ask you not as a ranger on an errand, but a sincere friend,” Gain told her, his eyes begging for her to listen to what he said. He had leaned forward in his seat, never once breaking eye contact, and not once faltering in his words. There was a long pause after he finished.
Briella’s nostril’s flared, her eyebrows scrunching to cause creases between them. She stood up suddenly, drawing to her full height with clenched fists. “You say these things, Gain, but you know nothing! I am beyond salvation. Even if I were to save all of Salerno and it’s neighbors, that would not be enough. I have spilt more innocent blood than I dare count. I was ripped off the path of my knight’s code long ago. I don’t even remember a single line of my oaths. My mind is darkened, and it is the people of Salerno who did this. As I snuck out of Epsilon, any who spotted me spit upon me. Any place I took refuge from Cranes to Tortrate ratted me out and laughed in my face. I’ve had enough of your words, Windfoot. I will not go!” Her voice had been raised as she glared down at him.
Gain had watched her calmly, waiting for her to finish. Silence drew out again between them, until something caught the ranger’s eyes. Upon the knight’s hand was a bandage wrapped around the palm. He stood and took her hand. She tried to draw back, but couldn’t get out of his grip.
“What are you doing?” her voice cracked with emotion as he hastily pulled off the wrapping and held her bare had palm up. There staring back at them was a black tattoo, a simple mark, but could easily be seen as an eye with a slit pupil. Gain knew what it was right away, and looked back into her eyes, holding her hand up.
“If you will not listen to me, than listen to this,” he told her. “I know how your magic works. You summon creatures or powers of those that you have a magic contract with. A mark on your body for every contract. Six marks you had when last I saw you, and this was not one of them. This is the eye of the Elder Dragon. He has made the contract with you, marked you. He knows of the coming storm, and knows the Rosewing knight needs to play her part to stop it. You would deny the people of Salerno, you would deny your knight’s code, your salvation, and you deny me. But you know more than any that you cannot deny this mark on your hand. The Elder Dragon’s message to you, telling you it’s time to stop running and hiding. It’s time to pick up your weapons again and protect the people you swore an oath to protect. Or would you dare to deny that, too?”
Briella’s eyes had gone to the mark on her hand, her lips pressed tight together. She clenched her hand into a fist and pulled it away from his grasp. Her grey eyes glared at Gain with an intensity that the ranger seemed unfazed by.
“I will consider it,” she said at last. “But no one is going anywhere until this blizzard blows over.”
“Blizzard?” Gain looked shocked at the news.
“Yes, you sure picked a prime time to find yourself out in the middle of Winter’s Cradle. The blizzard has been on its way, building for days, and just hours ago it finally hit in full force. We won’t be able to even leave the building for a good couple of days,” the knight explained to him, sitting down. “So get comfortable, I hope small spaces don’t bother you.”
“It doesn’t look like I have a choice if it bothers me or not,” he replied, sitting down in his own chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is very inconvenient.”

The blizzard lasted three days, keeping them trapped inside the small, single room cabin. The woman and the ranger took turns sleeping on the bed, food was rationed to make sure it lasted, and the only time they went outside was to get more firewood from the lean-to right outside the door. The wind constantly howled and pounded at the shack, letting up for only short periods. The woods of the small building creaked and often times shook as if about to come down. Gain found himself unable to sleep most of the time because of this. Briella on the other hand was unfazed by it, as if it were a natural thing. In fact from Gain’s prospective, she was right at home here in the small building with her great beast companion.
It was also a quiet couple of days, with Briella unwilling to hold out a conversation for very long. Gain tried to ask questions, but they would only be disregarded.
The final day of the blizzard, as the wind started to let up, Briella pulled out a box from under the small bed. She opened it up to reveal a sword and several pieces of armor. A gauntlet for her left hand, a vambrace for her right, and greaves for her legs, these were the only pieces of armor she head kept, preferring to travel light. The sword was an old friend to the knight, or perhaps an old burden.
Handling the blade, Briella was gentle and careful with it. She tested the edge, finding it as sharp as ever when it effortlessly cut her finger. The hilt and pommel held a jewel each in the form of a four-point star, one point longer than the others. The point on the hilt pointed up the blade, the one on the pommel pointing away. These jewels were blood red, and gleamed with a strange light.
Gain saw her pull these out, and the silence between them grew grim and strained. Because as Briella set these aside, she made her away about the cabin she was preparing for a long travel. She pulled out cloths and rations of food. She did not speak, or even look at the ranger as she did this. Gain and Sir both watched from the fireplace. She had decided to leave her cold haven and answer Gain’s call. The look on her face said that she was not happy about this decision, like she had no other choice.
The fourth day came, and no wind blew at the cabin. It was time to leave. Both people dressed in heavy cloths, Briella giving Gain a fur-lined cloak to go over his green one. It was not long before, packed a ready, they departed from the cabin. Briella did not look back as they started trudging through the thick snow that stretched all around. At one point Sir lifted his black nose into the air, taking in a whiff off the breeze, before looking behind. Gain glanced back as well and saw the cabin had been out of sight, but black smoke rising from that direction.
“I do not expect to come back,” Briella said, not looking back, still walking ahead. “So I leave nothing to come back to.”
No one said anything as their journey on foot continued, Briella leading the way. She found the way to the path of stone markers that lead a path through Winter’s Cradle. The snow had piled up in the storm, making the markers half the size as before from the layer of snow. Gain thought this strange, having expected them to be completely covered over by the snow. Thinking back, he also realized their journey was now much warmer than before. The chill wind that had stung him was gone, and the clouds blown away to reveal a clear blue sky and a warm sun. He almost felt as if he wore too much cloth for the weather.
The trail of stones ended at the base of a great line of mountains that had jutted on the southern horizon. The range stretched east and west, eventually curving up along the shape of the continent, cradling the vast snowy plain. That was why it was Winter’s Cradle, because the great mountains cradled the plain, as in encasing it in a constant winter. The mountains themselves were always snow capped and white, giving them their name, the White Mountains. They now had to make their way through the thick mountain range that went on for several leagues. The trail was marked simply by the fact that there was no other way through the mountains. It did not look changed by the recent storm, still full of packed snow and towering mountains on every side.
Along the sides of the trail, every so often, were either caves built into the pale rocky terrain, or flat spaces. These were meant for travelers to be able to make camp and rest as they traveled through the mountains. As to who had created the path and rest stops, and why, was unknown. For as long as anyone could remember, the path had been there, used by anyone who dared to enter Winter’s Cradle. The number of those people was very few, so it was also a wonder how the path remained in such good condition through the years.
Gain was certainly grateful for the fact, even if how and why was unknown. It made their traveling easy. They stopped at night to continue in the morning, taking short rests throughout the day. Several times throughout the journey, Gain still attempted to speak with Briella, to continue talking to her. But again she would say little, only what was necessary. Not saying why she had decided, and she herself not asking why exactly they were going back. She never asked what the coming storm was that the ranger had mentioned.
The days through the mountains passed, and finally the looming teeth were behind them as they came to the edge of Northfall. The sea stretched before them, broken on the horizon only by some distance mountain island to the south. West there were the smoke stacks of a town in the distance. Gain turned to make towards that town, but Briella grabbed the edge of his cloak, stopping him.
“No, we will not be going to Silveren,” the knight told him. “If you wish to cross the sea to Salerno together, than we do so my way. I don’t trust just anyone.”
“Alright, if not to Silveren, then how are you suggesting we cross?” Gain asked, rather confused at her words. Briella said nothing, releasing his cloak and instead heading east along the shoreline. The shore went from sand to rocks, sloping to great rocky cliffs that would be a long fall into icy cold water.
They were not walking for long when Gain looked back to realize Sir was no longer with them. In fact, there was no sign of the big brown beast anywhere in sight, as if he had never been there.
“Briella…” Gain began, only to be cut off.
“Make no mention of him, you will soon see why he has gone soon enough,” was all she said, not looking back at him as she picked the path along the rocks. Another cliff started growing to their other side, going above them just as the shore was below them. The cliffs were broken up with various crevices, some small, some large enough for several men to conceal themselves inside. As they passed an especially large cavern, this became the case.
Gain’s sharp ears heard the noise before, a faint rustling in the darkness of the crevice next to them. He barely had time to reach for his hunting knife when a dark bag was pulled tight over his head, robbing him on his sight. A fist slammed into his stomach, causing him to crumple and heave. Something hard hit his back, as his hands were grabbed and pulled behind him.
“Briella!” Gain yelled out, his voice muffled by the thick bag over his head. There came no answer, only laughs. An explosion of pain in his head brought stars to the darkness his eyes saw inside the bag. It stunned him, but he remained awake as he was lifted onto a shoulder and carried roughly.
At first he counted the steps, trying to remember which direction they would be heading, and paying attention to the man’s turns. But after a short while, he quickly lost track, as they seemed to be twisting and winding through a labyrinth of sorts. Only the echoing sounds of heavy footsteps filled the air, which was what Gain heard beyond the rushing in his ears. That was until the sound of footsteps on wood and the creaking of rope and splashing water broke through. He heard his captor’s footfalls go from stone to wood, and soon after was dropped down and placed on his knees.
With his hands still tied behind his back, the cloth was pulled from his head. He blinked at the sudden light, glancing about to take in the scene quickly. They were on a ship that was moored inside one of the great crevices in the rocky cliff. The crew was an unkempt bunch of men, who cared little for hygiene. Looking to his right, he found Briella in the same position as him, on her knees, hands tied behind her back.
“I hope this is part of your plan,” Gain leaned over and whispered to her.
“Just shut up and let me do the talking,” she replied, glancing up towards the helm of the ship.
“Oh, I get it. Don’t trust an honest merchant or fair paid passage across. No, let’s trust pirates,” Gain shot back in reply.
“Silence, fool,” she hissed, glaring at the ranger. Just then one of the men at the helm came down to stand in front of the two, arms crossed.
“What have we here? Well, do my eyes deceive me? Briella? You finally came out of your cold hiding place, have you? Who’s your friend here?” the man asked with a dark chuckle.
“Captain Endymion, pleasure to see you again,” Briella replied, getting to her feet. “Surely you would treat an old friend in a better manner than this. I have saved your life before, you scourge. And my friend here is the ranger Gain. A good man, and no one you need to find threatening.”
The captain laughed, and nodded. “Alright. Untie them. So what brings you here? I’m quite curious.” A man behind them came and cut their bonds, freeing them. Gain rubbed his wrists, getting to his feet as he glanced between the captain and Briella.
“I’m on an errand, the details I can’t tell you. But I’m here hoping for a ride to Aare, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you.”
“Briella, we can’t ask these men to take us there, do you want to walk away with not even the cloths on our backs?” Gain quickly whispered to Briella, who glared at him.
“Gain, you of little faith. The good captain here owes me a grand favor, and has been waiting for quite some time for me to turn it in, haven’t you?” Briella answered, looking over at the captain.
“Aye, the brave woman here saved me and my crew from a nasty run in. But Aare is no short distance, and is very close to the home of a prejudice navy. What makes you think this is the ship for the job?” Endymion asked Briella.
“Because I know I can trust you, and your ship is the fastest ship between here and Salerno,” the exiled knight replied with a sigh. “But if you cannot do this, than I shall just leave and try to think of a way for you to pay me back another way.”
“Wait, don’t be too hasty, lass. I never said I wouldn’t. Just wanted to know if you were serious here, is all. It appears that you are, and I feel dreadfully sorry for you. I’ll take you and your friend across the sea. Though if my memory serves me right, didn’t you have a great canine companion with you last time we met? Or did you finally manage to drive the beast off?”
“No, Sir is still with me, just hiding till I could secure a ride. He will come on my whistle, just before we depart. He has no love of the ocean and the sea, for his sight is often impaired by it,” Briella replied then held out her hand. “So do we have a deal, captain?”
The pirate came over and took her hand. “Aye, a deal. I’ll take you to Aare and owe you no more favors. We were just about to embark on a campaign, anyway. Might as well make it to Aare. But you be treading on thin ice heading back there.”
“I’m very much aware,” Briella said, glancing at Gain who had grown quiet. “I am very much aware.”

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08