Que pasa?

hey everyone! I know it's been ages and ages since I last posted here (more than a month since anyone posted here actually!)... I don't really know how many people still read this blog. I thought I'd try to maybe liven it up a bit though. Things are finally calming down for me here, so I'm going to try and write again. I haven't written anything in months really! It's too sad, so here I am, trying once again to write (and hopefully finish? :) a story!!!

Here's the very beginning of my newest story! It's not much, but it's a start! :)

Love,
anna

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The dinner bell rang.
Haydée, sitting on the hard, cold stone of the courtyard, her long, spindly legs drawn up to her, resting her dark head on her knees, ignored it. Cold, piercing drops of rain poured down on her, causing an involuntary shudder to wrack her thin body, but she did not move. She was happier here, darkness slowly creeping in around her, than she could ever have been sharing a dinner with the other inhabitants of the orphanage.
If any of the other children who lived in the St. Anne’s Orphan Asylum had decided to skip dinner, they would have suffered severe punishment, for by doing so they would be breaking one of the orphanages extremely strict rules. Haydée, however, would suffer no consequences.
That was how it was for her. No one ever bothered about Haydée. Very few people even knew she existed. And that was how she liked it. All of the experiences she had had with other people had caused her nothing but pain or confusion.
So she lived as a shadow, silent, and for the most part unseen.

Anna's New Story Chap 2 part 1

Chapter Two

The drive was a long one, and Mary realized with a sigh that their journey was not yet over. The conversation lagged as eyelids slowly drooped to a close and sweet sleep fell on the weary travels. Mrs. Benison, Edmund, and even their grandmother drifted off into a deep sleep, but slumber could not find and relieve Mary, whose mind still flowed with unanswered and perhaps unanswerable questions.

She stared out the car window. Slowly, the city lights disappeared, and different scenery replaced the familiar sight of tall buildings and busy streets. Tall, leafy trees and mountainy terrain flashed by the car window, until slowly the forest seemed to melt away into long, slopping fields and meadows.

Finally, Mary’s grandmother awoke, rubbing her tired eyes and stretching.
“Sarah, Sarah,” she said, nudging her daughter awake. “We’re almost there.”
Mrs. Benison, yawning, looked around a little bewilderedly. “Oh, good. How much longer?” she asked, giving her mother a tired smile.
“Oh, only about fifteen minutes. We have beds set up in the guest rooms for tonight. I didn’t think you’d want to stay in the cottage without having a chance to settle into it a bit first, getting a look around, you know?”
“Oh, great, Mom. That’s perfect, thank you.”

With a feeling of uncertainty and apprehension, Mary stared through the car window as they pulled to a stop in front of a large wooden farmstead. It was two stories high and, to Mary's eyes, huge. There were lights on inside, and she wondered who could be there at this hour. She prayed silently that there were not a hundred aunts and uncles waiting to greet them.

Her grandfather dispelled her worry bewilderment by saying offhandedly, “Elijah’s staying with us right now, Sarah. H’s really looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Elijah? Oh wonderful! Do you remember him, Mary? You saw him last time Grandma and Grandpa visited for Christmas! He’s right around your age.”
Mary remembered vaguely a small, irritating boy with bright red hair and a passion for mischief. She had been eight and so had he, but that, she was sure, had been their only similarity.

As they dragged their tired bodies up the steps and through the front door, the noise of loud, earsplitting music reached their ears.
“That’s Elijah,” their grandma laughed, rolling her eyes. “He was supposed to clean his room – it was quite the pigsty this morning, let me tell you – but somehow I doubt that it got done.”

“Elijah! Elijah!” the shrill voice of their grandmother called, as she wearily settled down into the first chair they came to, a rickety, old stool in the kitchen. Pounding footsteps were heard on the stairs, and a tall boy hurtled into the kitchen.

Mary was right; he did have red hair, though it was now more auburn than bright orange, and on his face was an impish smile, though somehow it looked gallant and winning on his dark face. But he was tall, and had startling blue eyes and tanned, muscular arms. He grinned at the small assembly of people gathered in the kitchen, and flopped into a cushioned chair leaning against the wall.

“Hi all, remember me?” the blithesome individual laughed, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Elijah,” his grandmother scolded, “Sit up straight and act like a gentleman!”
“Sorry,” he said penitently, sending a big wink in Edmund’s direction. “Hello,” he said, crouching down in front of him, “My name’s Elijah. I doubt you remember me though, you were only three when I visited!”
“I think I remember you,” Edmund, who seemed to have taken an immediate liking to this cheery and jocular cousin of his, replied confidently. “You put a spider in Mary’s hair and hid her favorite doll in the azalea bushes.”
Laughing heartily, Elijah turned to Mary with a mischievous smile. “I did, didn’t I? And if I remember correctly, I never adequately apologized for the said transgressions. If you will allow me,” and he bowed gallantly, “I will make amend as I best I can for that incivility tomorrow.”
Almost against her will Mary found her self laughing. With a gracious curtsy, she accepted his offer.
“And now,” their grandmother smiled, I think you all really must go to bed and get some rest. You’re almost fainting from lack of sleep!”

Later, snuggly tucked under a light blanket in a small, pretty quest room on the second storey, Mary pondered the day’s events. Edmund and her mother were sharing the room next to hers, and for a few minutes she had heard Edmund’s happy chatter before he drifted off to sleep. She wondered if her mother was still awake.

She liked Elijah. He seemed friendly and nice. He’s my cousin, she thought happily. She liked the idea of having cousins. Maybe, she pondered, maybe I’m going to like it here. She couldn’t help but laugh a little at her fickleness. Only an hour ago I hated everything about moving here, and now…

She lay in silence for a few moments longer, thinking of her father. How she wished she could talk to him. She wanted so badly to hear his voice, to have him there to speak his words of wisdom to her, to understand her like no one else could. Her heart ached with a longing too great to bear. Tears filled up in her eyes. She angrily brushed them away. Why do I always have to be so weak? she thought angrily. Why can’t I be like Mother? She’s so brave… She doesn’t even miss him. A sob escaped Mary’s throat, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Doesn’t even miss him…

Part 3, Chap 1

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Mrs. Benison nudged her two children awake and dragged them off their last flight and into the terminal.
“We’re here at laaaast,” Edmund said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. “Where are Grandma and Grandpa?”
“They’re probably outside waiting to pick us up, honey,” Mrs. Benison said, smiling. “You can try to call their cell and ask them where they are if you like,” she added, handing him her cell phone.

“Oh, Sarah!” cried the voice of an elder woman the moment they stepped out of the airport. A short, grey-haired woman hurried over to Mrs. Benison, who threw herself into her mother’s arms. “And you two, oh my, how you’ve grown!” the grandmother turned to Mary and Edmund, wrapping her arms around them and squeezing them in a tight hug.
“I missed you, Grandma!” Edmund cried, burying his head in the elderly woman’s shirt. Mary, watching the scene from a distance, marveled at her brother’s warmth and affection for a woman who he hadn’t seen since he was three years old.
“Oh, I missed you too, sweetie!” her grandmother cried, planting a kiss on Edmund’s cheek. Mary wondered why, if she really had missed him, she hadn’t ever come to visit him or even had any form of contact with him for so many years. “Now come on,” the elder woman continued, “Your grandfather is parked right over here.”

Mary squeezed into the back seat of the car with Edmund and her mother. She scrutinized her grandparents carefully. Her grandmother was short, but sturdy, her blue eyes still sparkling and alive. Her hair was grey, with a few silvery strands shimmering in the dim light. Her grandfather, tall and robust, had a kind, wrinkly face and long, drooping whiskers. They didn’t look so bad, she thought, and yet the distrust and anger that she felt burning in her chest did not abate.

She wondered briefly why she felt so angry at her grandparents. She remembered arguments that had occurred when she was younger between her mother and father, involving her grandparents and, Mary remembered, her mother’s sister Katie. She thought that the long separation that had occurred between her mother and her parents had something to do with a disagreement between Mary’s grandparents and her father. Mary speculated about what the disagreement had been about. Her resentment toward her grandparents grew, and she wondered angrily why, after seven years of practically no contact, they should protrude into her life now just because her father was no longer living?

An indignant fire burned in Mary’s chest. Suddenly questions swarmed up in her mind. Were her grandparents glad that her father was dead? After all, hadn’t it been he who had prevented them from visiting their daughter and grandchildren? Had her father purposefully kept his wife’s parents away from his children, or had the grandparents stayed away from their own choice, perhaps their anger or resentment toward their son-in-law? But what if her father hadn’t wanted her grandparents to be part of her life? Was she betraying him now, by going against his wishes when he was no longer there to let his opinion be known?

Mary, her heart beating thunderously in her chest, watched her mother closely. She seemed so happy, so content to be with her parents after having been away from them for so long. She chatted happily about old friends and old haunts which she couldn’t wait to show to Edmund and Mary. Confusion and uncertainty turned Mary’s sensations into a jumble of chaotic fears and doubts. She didn’t understand how her mother could be so happy, how she could be so cheerful and carefree when her husband could no longer even feel such emotions. And yet Edmund, too, seemed so carefree – they both seemed so blithe.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Mary relinquished her unhappy reflections and tried to join in on the jovial conversation that was going on around her. She had noticed Edmund eying her with concern, and she didn’t want to incite his anxiety or distress on her behalf. Grinning at him, she laughed appreciatively at a joke her grandfather had just told, and launched into one of her own.

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Part 2, Chapter 1

As the plane glided through the wispy clouds, Mary stared out the window, her nose pressed against the cool glass. Apprehensions and doubts seemed to invade her mind, filling her with uncertainty. She nervously thought about their new home, their future life. Her mother and Edmund were both so confident that everything would be fine; they were both so full of courage and hope. But Mary…Mary didn’t think she could ever be brave. She thought of her father. He had passed away that February as he drove home from work. It had been a stormy day, torrential rains hammering down from dawn until dusk. He had been hurrying home after a late night at the office, when his car skid across the road and in front of an eighteen-wheeler. He had passed away in the ambulance.

Now they were moving. Moving to Virginia, to a small farm owned by their grandparents. Grandparents who she hadn’t seen in seven years, and who until a month ago didn’t seem to care whether she was alive or dead.

Mary had grown up in L.A.; she was used to the noise and bustle of the city. She couldn’t imagine life in the country, all alone in the middle of nowhere. But Mrs. Benison thought that a change would be good for them, all of them.
“Kids, I got a letter from your grandparents from Virginia today,” she had said one evening as they sat around the table eating their dinner. “They want to know if we’d like to come and stay with them on their farmstead for a while. They have a little cottage nearby that they usually rent out, but it’s empty now, and they say it would be perfect for us.”

At first Mary had been shocked and upset. Moving to Virgin! Never! But she could tell it meant a lot to her mother. She had grown up in the country, and Mary thought that sometimes her mother got nostalgic for her childhood home.
“I think you’ll really enjoy life on a farm,” she had said. “It’s going to be a great experience for you both. Plus you’re grandparents will be there. I think it will be good for us to be closer to family.”
Grandparents? Did they even deserve that name, after only appearing in her life now after simply vanishing for seven long years? Yet, Mary knew that her mother was under a lot of pressure, raising two kids all by herself in a big city. She needed some sort of help and support, and having her parents near would make a world of difference for her.

Even before her husband’s death, Mrs. Benison had spoken often of wanting to get out of the noise and bustle of the city, to spend some time in the calm of the country. She was a writer, and although she had found the diversity and activity of the city a good source of fodder for her writing, she thought that some time in the peace and tranquility of the farm would give her the serenity she needed for her creativity. Mr. Benison, however, had always abhorred the idea of living in the country, particularly, it seemed to Mary, near a certain farmstead in Virginia.

Edmund was of course thrilled at the prospect of living on a farm.
“Do they have horses? And chickens? And goats? And will there be bears in the woods? By Jove, I can’t wait to ride the horses!” he had squealed the moment his mother mentioned the farm. Now, he sat beside Mary, barely able to contain his excitement. Squirming around in his seat, he tried to get a peak through the window out into the blue sky.
“Do you think we’re almost their, Mary?” he asked, a little anxiously.
“We still have the layover in Charlotte,” Mary said, laughing at his impatience.
“Oh man! How long after that?”
“I’m not sure. Not too long, I think.”
“I sure hope not! ‘Farewell we call to hearth and hall, though wind may blow and rain may fall! We must away ere break of day, far over wood and mountain tall!’” He sang, receiving a couple of looks from his fellow passengers in return for his melodious air.

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New Story

Chapter One

Hundreds of students filed out of the classrooms, laughter and chatter filling the halls as the final classes ended and the bell rang for the last time. It was the end of the school year, and an entire summer of fun awaited them! Everyone prattled excitedly about their plans and aspirations for their summer vacation, a feeling of excitement and bliss seeming to permeate almost palpably through the halls.

Only one girl seemed unaffected by the pervading feeling of glee, as she lingered by her locker collecting her belongings. Mary Benison did not foresee any enjoyment awaiting her in the almost three months which stretched before her, uncertain and unpredictable. With a sigh, she slipped through the exit and out into the sunlight. As the students rapidly dispersed in different directions, some piling into yellow buses, others jumping into cars, Mary slung her bag onto her shoulder and slumped onto the grimy steps to wait. Glancing at her wristwatch, she frowned a little anxiously. Where in the world can Mom be? she wondered, looking around for any sign of her mom’s old, battered brown car.

“Mary,” a panting voice behind her called. “Sorry we’re late!” Spinning around, Mary saw Edmund rushing toward her, his face flushed and his big blue eyes sparkling. “The moving men just got there, and mom wasn’t sure if she should trust them at the house by themselves. So she got Mr. Loward to come pick you up. Gee, Mary, the moving truck is huge!”
“Mr. Loward? That funny old guy who lives down the street? Well, anyway, how was your day?” Mary asked, smiling a little at Edmund’s excitement.
“I’m just glad it’s finally over!” he laughed, skipping a bit. “No more school for nearly three whole months!”
Mary didn’t reply, but kicked a small stone with her boot, sending it skidding across the pavement before it slowly rolled to a stop in front of a school bus. Edmund looked down, his own glee dissipating a bit at Mary’s glumness. Mary caught his unhappy look, and felt a twinge of guilt prickled at her insides.
“I’m sorry Ed; I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.”
“It’s not your fault, Mary,” Edmund was quick to assert. "Come on, Mr. Loward's waiting for us."

As the two sat side by side in the backseat of Mr. Loward’s pickup truck, they let silence envelope them, both lost in their own thoughts.
“It won’t be so bad,” Edmund said after a few moments, glancing at his older sister. “It’s almost like an adventure.”
Mary tried to muster up some enthusiasm, wishing she could be more like her mother, who always knew how to cheer and hearten people rather than bring them down.
“You’re right,” she said at last, forcing a smile. “Everything’s going to be different. Maybe it will be exciting.”
“A new home, a new school, new friends, a whole new life, Mary!” Edmund cried, encouraged by her slight show of interest.
But Dad won’t be there, Mary thought. She said, “Yes, an adventure!”

When they got home, a moving truck was pulled up in front of their house, and men were loading boxes into the back.
“Oh good, you’re home,” Mrs. Benison cried when she saw her two children. “We have a lot to do before our plane leaves tomorrow morning! Why don’t you two go in and have a snack, and then make sure you have everything you need for tomorrow.”

The next morning, Mary was woken by her bedroom door suddenly being thrown open and someone hurdling onto her bed.
“By Jove, are you still in bed?” Edmund exclaimed, looking down at his sister and shaking his head in mock displeasure. “Up thyself lady, lest thou get left behind in the tumult before we embark on our journey!”
Laughing, Mary kicked Edmund off her bed with her foot. “Get out of here so I can get dressed, you scallywag!” she cried.
Edmund, wagging his head disapprovingly, disappeared down the hall, bounding down the stairs and singing Bilbo’s adventure song from the Hobbit with all his heart. “We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!”

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NEW STORY!!!!

haha, hi everyone!! I've finally working on a new story. Please don't get mad at me for the fact that this is like the 20th story I'm starting on here, out of which I've finished exactly 0 and 3/4!!!! It's not my fault!!! I can't help it!! But here's my promise: I'm not going to start posting it until I'm half done writing it!! Now, the good thing is, I've already written the back story, the plot line, and 30 pages of the story itself!!!! Things are looking hopeful!!

Now, here is the preview:

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An ordinary boy and girl. A new home. Deep, dark woods. A secret fort. Footsteps in the dark; the sound of crunching leaves. A strange little man. The beginnings of an adventure.

Mary and Edmund Benison are two ordinary kids. One day, as they explore the woods behind their grandparents' farm, they are thrown into the middle of an adventure like none they could have ever imagined. Now they both must face unheard of dangers and overcome their fears. Can they become heroes, or will everything around them fall apart?


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lol. DRAMATIC MUCH?!?!!? Yes. But it's going to be good!! I hope!! lol

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New Short Story!!!

I want to take this time to sincerely apologize for my shocking lack of posts for the last, oh, 2 months!!! I'll try and do better, I promise!!! =] Here is a short story I'm working on, just for a bit of fun. Trust me, it's nothing fancy, but nonetheless, I'm having a lot of fun writing it!!! =)

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Frantically, I searched my pockets, but to no avail. Dashing over to my knapsack which I had unceremoniously dumped onto the front doorstep after exiting the school bus, I rifled through its contents, tossing notebooks, old candy wrappers, pencils, and scrap paper onto the grass beside me. Finally, thumping onto the ground in despair, I had to accept the unhappy truth: the key was not to be found. I was stuck outside, the house securely locked and bolted. Muttering under my breath, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed my father’s office number.
“Hello,” said the perky voice of my father’s secretary, “This is Dr. Muller’s office, how may I assist you?”
“Hi July, this is Caddie. Can I talk to my dad please? It’s important.” I closed my eyes in silent prayer. Please do not let him be in a business meeting, please do not let him be in a business meeting, I thought.
“Oh, I’m sorry Caddie, he’s in an important meeting right now and can’t be disturbed. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Just tell him I called, ok? Bye,” I grumbled, frustration permeating through my body. Of course he’s in an important meeting, I thought, he always is.

With a sigh, I dialed my mother’s cell phone number. She was away on a business trip in Tokyo for the week, and I knew there wasn’t much point in calling her, but nevertheless, it was with relief that I heard her voice when she answered the phone.
“Hi Mom! I’m so glad I reached you!”
“Honey! How are you darling? Is anything the matter?”
“Oh, nothing serious…I’m locked out of the house though, and dad’s in an ‘important business meeting and must not be disturbed.’” I said, mimicking July’s high, girlish voice nearly to perfection.
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Knowing you’re father, he probably won’t get back to you for at least a few hours. Well, in the meantime, I think the best thing for you to do would be to go to Mrs. Perkins’ house and spend the afternoon with her.”
“Muh-om,” I exclaimed, “I can’t go to Mrs. Perkins!”
“Caddie, don’t be silly. Mrs. Perkins is a perfectly lovely old lady.”
“I hate Mrs. Perkins! She’s so old and crotchety, mom!”
“Caddie!” My mother’s voice was shocked. “You shouldn’t speak of her like that! She’s your elder and deserves your respect and consideration. And frankly, honey, I don’t think there is much else you can do, unless you want to sit on the doorstep and wait until your father gets home, which will probably not be for hours.”
“Maybe I will,” I cried, scowling. “Anyway, what’s it to you, you and dad don’t care what I do. You’re never around when I need you!” Angrily, I slammed the cell phone shut and shoved it into my pocket.

Immediately I felt sorry for the way I’d acted, knowing I had hurt my mother by what I’d said. I tried to assuage the guilt I felt growing in my chest by enumerating the times my dad hadn’t shown up for my recital or my mom had arrived half an hour later to pick me up from soccer practice. When that didn’t work, I thrust my hands into my jean pockets and kicked a few stones that were scattered about on the driveway. Brushing my bangs away from my face, I slammed my bag down onto the doorstep and slumped down beside it, pulling out my iPod and plugging the headphones into my ears.

For a while I just sat there, listening to some loud music which seemed to coincide with my dark mood. I can do this, I thought glumly. I’ll just chill out here till my dad comes home…I tried not to think about the fact that it might be hours until my father’s meeting ended, and even longer till he finally came home. I think that even if my father hadn’t gotten home till midnight or later, I would have stuck to my resolve and remained on those steps the entire afternoon, if it hadn’t started raining at that moment. Although at the time I curst the quickly falling raindrops vehemently, now, I thank heaven for sending them plip-plopping onto my head that memorable afternoon.

To be continued . . .

Revising, rewriting, redoing

Hey Everyone!!

First off, sorry I haven't been posting much in the last while! I hate to say that I'll probably be posting even less for a while. I'm going to try and redo Elvaeria. It just doesn't seem right to me! It's not at all how I had planned it to be, and now I'm going to rewrite practically all of it and take it in a rather different direction. It will probably be a while before I post any of it, because I want to have a sizable amount written before I start posting it again, you know?

Sorry guys, especially to the people who never even got to be in the story!! :(

I have hundreds and hundreds of (what I think) are simply great story ideas, and I really want to start writing all of them right now, hehe, but we'll see!! There may be a few new stories posted on here soon, but then again there might not, because I don't want to put a lot of time in other stories while neglecting the ones I already have going!! You know what I mean?

Well, ciao for now!

xoxo!!

anna

Elvaeria, Ep 8

Okay guys, here is some of Elvaeria. To be completely honest, I really dislike this chapter. It just doesn't seem very well written. =/ Anyway, tell me what you think!!

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The Council Room was an immense, circular room. Like all Elvin buildings, it was created entirely from bender, twisted, or carved wood and decorated with everlasting flowers and leaves and other beauties of nature.

As Kateri, Emily and Vaerizanda entered through the wide, arched doorway, the saw before them the entire Council of Elders. These were the finest of elves, aged, experienced, wise and just. Some had spent their entire lives studying, learning, and training just to have the chance to be a member of this ancient order. Others had gained their knowledge not from books, but through life, having experienced much as either warriors or adventurers. All were respected equally and admired greatly.

Standing before the group of Elves, Emily and Kateri could not help but feel small and insignificant. But they both knew they had much to explain and even more to reveal, Kateri most of all.

“Thou come’st before the Council of Elders to enlighten us with the events thou hast experienced through this day, Princess Kateri, Princess Emily. Honored One, thou may feel free to tell us your part in this tale, or thou may simply watch and listen. We would feel honored if thou wouldst join us at the Table of Elders.”
“Thank you, Wise Ones, I would be honored to join you. But first, I must tell my part in the story, though I wish to go last of all.”
“Let it be so, then,” the tall, striking elf who had spoken before said, inclining his head. “Now, Princess Kateri, please tell us your tale.”

“Early this morning, Emily and I decided to travel out of the Kingdom of the Elves, to hunt for some Melra berries for the grand festival this evening. We had just found such a lovely, full patch of berries as never before was seen, when suddenly, we heard voices…Human voices,” Kateri said, continuing, “We peeked through the branches, and we saw a noblemen, holding a bundle in his arms, and a poor peasant. The nobleman threatened the peasant with death if he did not take the bundle and kill what was in it….a baby! Emily and I know the grave sin of killing an innocent, and we knew we had to do all we could to protect it. We thought it would be simple enough, for the man was to simply leave the babe in a clearing. We were going to take the baby, once he left him somewhere, and bring it to a loving home of humans.”

As Kateri told her story, the Elders faces showed no change in expression, but Emily’s face seemed to go through all the emotions. Sometimes, she looked frightened, others, excited, sometimes, angry, and other times sad. But as Kateri drew her story to a close, not only did Emily’s face shone with amazement, but so did all the faces of the Elders.
“The Lithos Athanatos?” the Elders cried, disbelief, incredulity echoing through all their voices.
“Show us,” the eldest of the Elders, Mecaezer, said, leaning on the edge of the table, his eyes squinting, so as better to see.
Kateri had carried the stone with her since she found it, unable to let it out of her sight. Now, she drew it from the sack slung tight around her waste.

A hushed, astonished murmur ran through the group of Elders as they watched this.
“Bring it to me,” Mecaezer said, his voice low, reaching out his hand for the large, round stone.
Nervously, Kateri brought the stone to the Table of Elders. All waited in silence until she placed the stone in the hands of Mecaezer, and then slowly back away.
Laying the stone onto the center of the table around which the Elders sat, Mecaezer closed his eyes, placing his hands over the stone. Silently, his lips moving rapidly, he uttered words in a language unknown to any but the wisest of all elves, the language of the White Elves. The stone glowed, turning soft blue, and then fading to a pale pink, the pink slowly turning brighter and brighter until it glowed brilliantly red.
“There can be no doubt,” Mecaezer said, opening his eyes. “This is the Lithos Athanatos.”

Elvaeria, Ep. 7

Hey everyone!! Here is some more of Maedaeria, newly renamed as Elvaeria!! Tell me what you think! I know this one is wicked long.

xoxo

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As Kateri, Emily, and the Pegasus waited in the lounge of the Place of Councils, they talked over the many frightening events which had taken place that day.
“After I left you, what happened?” Emily cried impatiently. “And where did you come from, Honored One?” she added, looking admiringly at the fantastic Pegasus before her.
“Before we answer any of these questions, I think we should all introduce ourselves properly,” Kateri said. “I’m afraid I don’t even know your name, Honored One.”
“Nor I yours, until I heard it spoken with the title ‘Princess’ before it!” exclaimed the Pegasus, smiling faintly. “So you are the Elvin Princess?”
“I am Kateri, Princess of the Elves, yes. This is Emily, also one of the Elvin princesses. She is my cousin.”
“Which of you is the daughter of Lidaera, Queen of the Elves, and as such, the heir to the kingdom?”
“Kateri is. My mother is Lidaera’s younger sister, Cilnaera.” Emily said, adding, “But we still did not know your name! Won’t you tell us?”

“Dear ones, I cannot blame you for not knowing this ancient tradition, because it has been so long since a Pegasus such as myself has walked among you, but it is the way of the Pegasus to only impart her name to those she truly trusts and admires. But as it is, I have now come to the conclusion that I can trust you, and that indeed, I do admire you. My name is Vaerizanda.”
“Oh, how beautiful,” Emily gasped, her eyes wide.
“Heaven Sent….that’s what it means, right?” Kateri asked, smiling.
“Yes, that’s right. But now, I shall tell you my half of the story.” Vaerizanda said, as she took a sip from her bowl of the same strange, whirling mist that the two elves were drinking.
“Now, where to start…Hmm. My friend, Kaezira is her name, had been traveling for weeks….But wait, no….No, it is necessary to go even farther back than that.

“Kaezira, the woman from whose gown this small piece of material comes from,” Vaerizanda began again, indicating the piece of cloth with her snout. “is a simple peasant from the land of Linaeria. She is the daughter of a farmer of no importance, her mother has been dead these many years, and she does not even know her name, as apparently it is painful for her father to speak of it, and he has told her nothing of her mother. She has no title, no significance to anyone, except those who know her as the sweet and loving girl she is. She is truly amazing. She has a heart larger and truer than anyone I have ever before met before .
“I met her one day in the forest; she was picking berries for a pie. Well, we formed an immediate bond. Since then, we have been fast friends. But not too long ago, she traveled into Elvaeria alone. She was looking for me, in fact. She traveled deep into the forest. Too deep. She became lost. After hours of searching through the forest for the way home, she came to a small hut. Hoping that whoever lived in the hut would be able to help her, she naively knocked upon the door, not knowing that evil exists even in the seemingly peaceful Land of the Elves.
“What she saw there was too horrible for words. An entire family slaughtered. She nearly fainted than and there, and she would have, had not circumstances forced her to keep her wits about her. For, you see, the murderer was still there. A outlandish creature, she said. A monstrous creature! I myself have never laid eyes on him, but she described him to me thoroughly. She did not wish to tell me, it frightened her even to think about him, but I made her, for the more I knew about this monster, the safer I could keep Kaezira.
“Well, as I was saying, the murderer, some kind of monster, was still there. He was dressed in a long, black cloak, and in his arms he held a girl. She was a gorgeous girl, Kaezira said, and she seemed to be unconscious. He stared at Kaezira, stared and stared. Then, he slowly stepped from the house, and, spreading enormous, black wings, soared up into the sky, after whispering three words to her. ‘You are next.’”

“How horrible!” Emily exclaimed. Kateri remained silently, her eyes large.
Zaerizanda was watching her. She looked at her, her eyes searching, before continuing.
“After Kaezira told me all this, I knew it was no trifling matter. I told her we had to flee from her home, for the monster would surely come after her. I was sure it had some way of searching her out and discovering where she lived. She was heartbroken, for she loved her father dearly, and she had a brother who was in the Lindaerian army, and who knew when she should see him again. At first, she refused to go, but her father, hearing of the horrendous affair, would not hear of her staying where she could be in danger.
“So we set off. For weeks we have been traveling through the forest, going through the safest routs. You may think it foolish to travel through Elvaeria when that is where the monster itself must live, but, though you are of the ancient and honored race of elves, even you have little knowledge of the secrets this forest holds. Even though you are of the noble race of elves, you, and your elders with you, cannot image the mysterious contained in Elvaeria’s depths. I knew we would be safer in the forest than anywhere else. I knew especially one place where the beast would surely never find us….The Kingdom of the Elves.
“We had been traveling two weeks, with no sign of danger, when suddenly, we felt as though we were being followed, watched. Before long, we knew the monster was on our tails. There was nothing we could do…We simply continued to travel, staying one step ahead of the creature.
“We were so close to reaching the Kingdom of the Elves…Closer even than we thought…When Kaezira fell and hit her head on a rock. This injury was not too severe, but it held us up for two days. When we were at last able to move again, the creature was right behind us. We had nothing to do but run. Run we did! We sped through the forest, doing all we could to reach the Kingdom of the Elves before we were overtaken. We would have made it, had not I in my carelessness run under a low hanging branch. Though this branch was high enough not to harm me, it knocked Kaezira right off my back. Then, before I knew what had happened, I had tumbled into a hole…what I now know was the well…and everything suddenly went black!” Zaerizanda broke off with tears in her eyes. “My fault, all my fault!”
“Oh, Zaerizanda, it’s not your fault! Truly it isn’t—” But before Kateri could go on, the door burst open and aged Meginia was before them.
“The Elders are ready for you!” she breathed.

Pirate Story

Here's the latest installment of my new story. I promise to try and post some of Maedaeria soon (BTW, I think I'm going to change its name to Elvaeria...what do you think?). I have a lot more of it written, but I haven't had a chance to type it out on the comp yet! (Yes, I actually wrote it in a notebook!!! hehe)

Anyway, please tell me what you think!! Some that you haven't read yet, Kateri!! hehe! Anyone who doesn't know what's going on, you can read the beginning of the story here , or, if you've read the beginning but haven't read th second chapter, you can read that here. BTW, this story, like Kateri's, is still unnamed, with nothing more than "Pirate Story" to describe it!! Any ideas for a name??

Ciao!!

xoxo

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Emma Camille stood on the gangplank, taking one last look at the scene before her. Her father, Mr. Camille, a tall, handsome man, stood beside her younger brother Matthew on the docks, waving. Matthew, his plump cheeks stuffed with sweetmeats, gazed absentmindedly into the sky.

Emma, tearing herself away from this sight, quickly boarded the St. Bartholomew, on which Mrs. Montclair and her daughter Viviane stood waiting for her. Mrs. Montclair looked sympathetically into Emma’s eyes as the young girl reached them.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me,” Emma murmured, blushing, as she brushed a stray teardrop from her cheek.
“Oh, dear girl, you’ll see them again soon,” Mrs. Montclair laughed, giving Emma’s shoulders a squeeze.
“Come on,” Viviane smiled, linking arms with her friend. “Let’s explore the ship!”

As the two girls walked along the deck, arm-in-arm, Viviane tried to cheer Emma up.
“Don’t worry, Emma; you’ll see them all in a few months! And you’ll be so busy bashing it up in France and Italy, you’ll never know where the weeks have gone!”
“Of course, I know you’re right,” agreed Emma, trying to smile. If only she could explain to her friend that it was not pining for her family that made her heart ache. Indeed, she scarcely felt she would miss any of them at all. But no, admitting such would be unforgivable. Even Viviane would never understand what Emma meant, for she had grown up with a dotting mother who loved nothing more than to be with her daughter.

Later that night, Emma lay on the bottom bunk, Viviane fast asleep above her. Emma, curled under the warm covers, silently scribbling into a small, leather-bound journal.

“Dear Diary,
"So far everything has been so amazing. This ship, the St. Bartholomew is enormous, and filled with the most interesting people I’ve ever seen. I know that this is going to be one of the most amazing and unforgettable times of my life. Ahead of me are three months full of new and exciting places to see, new people to meet, whole trunks full of the loveliest gowns, hundreds of balls, and amazing adventures! Isn’t it strange, than, that I am not completely and entirely happy?

"But I can’t help it, you see, because I know I am not loved. How can that be, you may ask, when I have hundreds of friends and admirers all around me? I think there is one thing that every girl longs for more than anything else. Probably most girls don’t know how much they long for it, because they have it already, and have had it all their lives. But I know it. And I long for it more than words can tell.
What is this thing, you may well wonder, which is highest in the desires of my heart? It is simply this: a mother. Oh, but you do have a mother, you say. True, I do have a biological mother, someone who gave birth to me. But that fact alone does not make her my real mother. A real mother, you see, feels something for her daughter.

"It is so hard, it is so unfair! All around me are girls who take their mothers for granted. Some even complain to me about how irritating it is that their mother is always trying to spend time with them, how she always has to know everything about them. They tell me how irksome it is that their mothers are always trying to be their friend!

"I suppose it’s not fair of me to judge them for this. They don’t know what it is like to have a mother who could care less about you. They don’t know how much I wish I had a mother who actually wanted to spend any time with me, who wished to know anything at all about me. A mother who actually wanted to be my friend? Unimaginable! Unthinkable! Oh, how longed for!

"It would comfort me to know that the reason my mother cares so little about me is simple because she is not a maternal women. Or, perhaps, she loves me a great deal, but she is simply the kind of woman who does not show her feelings easily. But this cannot be so, for I have never known a child more dotted on, more lathered with affection, than Matthew, my own brother! My mother absolutely adores Matthew! It seems her whole life revolves around him. She can scarcely stand to have him out of her sight for two whole minutes at a time.

"So what is so wrong with me, than, that makes her care so little for me? If only I knew. Perhaps I could change it. Perhaps I could get rid of whatever offends her so! If she dislikes my hair, I would cut it off! If she dislikes the way I dress, I would throw out my entire wardrobe! If she dislikes my laugh, I would never laugh again!

"Dear Diary, listen to me complain! I am surely on of the luckiest girls in the world. I have everything, some would say. My father is rich, my house is large and elegant, I always have the latest fashions and loveliest gowns to wear. I go to dozens of balls and parties a week, I enjoy scrumptious food. I only lack one thing. A mother.”


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More of my pirate story!

If you don't know what's going on here, you might have missed the first part that I posted! You can find it here.

Tell me what you think! Praise and criticism are both equally appreciated!!

xoxo

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Carlo knelt beside his mother’s lifeless body, his eyes over brimming with hot tears. His breathing came in short, sharp breaths as he fought to keep a manly front, to keep from sobbing aloud. Enrique leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. It was unbearable to look upon the painful scene before him, his little cousin’s shoulders shaking, his head bent. His aunt’s face was colorless, hollows around her eyes, her cheeks sunk in. Looking at her ravaged body, Enrique could no longer control his grief.
“How did this happen?” he cried, “Why did she never write? If I had known how things were here…” He looked at the thin figure of Carlo. “You’re a skeleton. Come, we must leave this house, Carlo.”
“We must give her a proper burial!” the young boy whispered, turning to his cousin, his eyes pleading.

The two salutes stood out in the deepening dim.
“She would have wanted a priest.” Carlo murmured, staring at the mound of dirt under which his mother’s corpse now lay. Placing his hand on Carlo’s narrow shoulder, Enrique bowed his head.
“Can we say a prayer?” Carlo looked up into his cousin’s face, his large brown eyes wells of sorrow.
Enrique nodded, and, although the simple words were no striking homily uttered by a solemn priest, they rang with emotion and feeling.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
When they came to “thy will be done,” Carlo could no longer suppress his sorrow, and broke into sobs. Enrique knelt down beside the grave, his arms around Carlo, and placed a bouquet of sunflowers by the stone onto which Carlo has scratched the words, ‘Here lies Cossette Laurent, Darling Mother, Dearest Aunt.’

The sky was painted with gold, pink and red. A lonely bird twittered about in the trees above as Enrique gentled nudged Carlo awake.
“We have to get going.”
“Huh? Where are we going?” Carlo asked, stretching. His brown eyes had dark purple circles around them; streaks ran down his dirty face where tears had trickled in the night.
“We have to get to the Monarch before it leaves without us.”
“We’re going to the Monarch? Why?”
“You’re coming with me, Carlo. You’re going to be a sailor.” Enrique grinned reassuringly.
“But what about Mother?”
Enrique’s face fell. He looked away.
“Come on Carlo, we’d better hurry,” he murmured, standing.
“I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to, Enrique. I want to stay here, with Mother.”
“Carlo, what will you do here by yourself? You’ll starve to death,” cried Enrique, running a hand through his hair in distress.
“I won’t be by myself, I’ll be with Mother!” Carlo, tears streaming down his face, turned away. “Go on, I don’t want you.”
Enrique gripped Carlo’s arms.
“Carlo, you can’t stay here. You must come with me. Do you understand? I promised your mother I would take you with me on the Monarch. I promised.”


“Where’s that lily liver Cossaire boy? I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show today,” grumbled a filthy, reeking sailor.
“Heh, grateful is what I’d be,” muttered another sailor, as they boarded the Monarch. “A darn wimp, that’s what he is.”
“A real mama’s boy,” laughed the other.
“Good morning, Girard, Dacre. The captain has been waiting for your arrival. Everyone else is aboard, except for Cossaire.” First-mate Philippe Damont scanned the docks, his eyes narrowed. “Ah, I think I see him now…But who is that with him?”


As Enrique hurried passed the whistling sailors and jabbering merchants toward the Monarch, he talked hurriedly to Carlo.
“Listen, I know this is probably confusing, but no one on this ship knows I have a cousin, or that I’ve ever before even been in Ravenhill. You must not let it slip that we are related, or that we even know each other at all. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Carlo replied, but his face was full of bewilderment and uncertainty. “But why mustn’t they know we are related?”
“It’s complicated. I’ll try and explain it later. We haven’t time now. All you need to know is that you are a homeless vagabond in search of a position as cabin boy aboard a ship.”
“What is my name?”
This question rather surprised Enrique. Carlo’s readiness to accept whatever Enrique asked him to do was rather unsettling. He had envisioned difficulty in getting Carlo to follow the plan.
“Uh...Vasser. Yes, Carlo Vasser.”

“Who’s this?” Damont’s sharp voice inquired, frowning disapprovingly.
“The new cabin boy. He seems hard working, and I knew we were looking for one. So, I presumed--–”
“Well, we don’t need a scarecrow, and that’s about all this skeleton’s good for. Where’d you find him, the graveyard?”
Enrique quickly glanced at Carlo, fearful of what effect these words might have on him. The boy’s expression did not change; he stood straight and looked indignantly into Damont’s face.
“I may be lightweight, but I’m a hard worker. I could get twice as much work done any day as any fat lad.”
Damont raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so? Well…Take him to Captain Horatio. See what he says about it.”

“That was great, Carlo,” Enrique exclaimed as they hurried toward the Captain’s quarters. “Just keep that up and you’ll be first mate before we know it.”
Once they reached the Captain’s quarters, Enrique tapped softly on the door.
“Enter,” Horatio’s deep voice rumbled.
“Captain,” said Enrique respectfully, inclining his head. Shoving Carlo forward, he said, “This boy’s looking for a position as cabin boy. He seemed a likely candidate for the Monarch, so I brought him with me.”
Horatio, who had been sitting at his desk, looking over a large map, turned to have a better look at the boy.
“Is that so? Hmm, rather skinny, but seems to be made of a tough material. What’s your name, boy?”
“Carlo Vasser, sir.” Carlo replied, his chin lifted proudly.
“How old are you?”
At this, Carlo glanced nervously at Enrique.
“Uh, twelve, sir.”
“Hmm, a good age. Well, welcome aboard the Monarch, cabin boy!”

“I like him,” Carlo murmured as they left the cabin.
“So do I,” Enrique grinned, glancing down at his cousin. “Quick thinking when you said twelve. I didn’t think to mention it to you, but ten is a little young to be aboard a vessel such as this…”
“What kind of vessel is this, anyway? I didn’t see any cargo taken onto the ship.”
Enrique looked askance at Carlo, looking uncomfortable.

“Look," he said finally, turning around to look Carlo in the eyes. "You have to understand, Carlo, that not all the dealings that go on in this ship are what you could call honest.”
“What do you mean?” Carlo's dark eyebrows were drawn together, his expression unsure, worried.
“Well, Carlo…Let me see, how can I explain this," Enrique wracked his brains, frowning. "Well, it's . . . complicated. Carlo, the truth isn't always nice," he said, smiling sadly. "You see, many men aboard this ship, me included, are what...most...would call. . . . outlaws.” Carlo grimaced at the word, his face drawn.
“Outlaws? I don’t understand. You always made it sound like the Monarch was a shipping vessel.”
“Oh, well, sometimes it is.” Erique said evasively.

“Enrique, if I’m going to trust you, you have to tell me the truth.” Carlo frowned, stopping short. “You can’t expect me to be your blind follower.”
“Carlo, you wouldn’t understand," Enrique cried, almost pleading. "I'm not proud of what I do on this ship. I'd give anything to have another...profession," here Enrique gave a short, humorless laugh. "If you can even call it that. But things are complex, intricate, knotted. Everything isn’t as simple as some think.”
“I understand that, Enrique. My mother’s death wasn’t simple. I don’t understand why she died. I don’t understand what you mean when you say you are an outlaw. I thought you were a sailor, I thought the Monarch was a shipping vessel.”
Enrique grimaced.
“I'm sorry," he said, looking away. "You’re right, Carlo. I think of you as an ordinary boy, but... you’ve been through so much…you are so mature for ten...” Enrique sighed deeply. Running his hand through his thick hair, he looked Carlo in the eyes. “Carlo, the truth is, the Monarch is a buccaneer ship. We take what does not belong to us, Carlo. We steal, and plunder, and sometimes, kill. We are pirates.”

Maedaeria, Ep. 6

Here is episode 6!! Sorry to everyone who still is not in the story yet! I'm working on it!! in the next couple of episodes you may spy a couple of new characters!! I'll keep you alerted! :)

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As Kateri and the Pegasus slowly descended to the forest ground, no one uttered a word, until at last, awe in her voice, the Pegasus finally spoke.
“Do you mean…?” she cried, as they landed with a thump by a bush of deep red berries.
“Yes.” Kateri said, overcome with amazement. “I think this is the Everlasting Stone..... The Lithos Athanatos.”
“Good heavens. What makes you think a thing like that?” the Pegasus said, her eyes wide.
“Because," Kateri whispered, "I think that that well, the one we fell into, was truly the Lost Well. I think it was the enchanted well out of which this Land of Elves sprung.”
“Could it be?” the Pegasus cried, shocked. “Could it truly be? Heavens, it was a stroke of luck which brought me into that well. But I have to ask -- even in the midst of this amazing discovery -- how in the world did I get into that well? Do you know?”
This reminded Kateri of the frightening affairs that in the first place had led to the discovering of the Lithos Athanatos.
“I don’t truly know,” she said hesitantly. “But I think I might have an idea.” Pulling the white piece of cloth out of the pocket into which she had put it, Kateri, sliding from the back of the Pegasus, held it before her. “Do you recognize this?”

Suddenly, the Pegasus’s dark eyes grew to twice their normal size. She kicked, rearing. Neighing, terrified, she seemed unable to control herself.
“What’s wrong?” Kateri cried, as the Pegasus trembled and ninnied, terror in her eyes. “Please, calm down!” Putting her hand tentatively on the frightened animal’s side, she looked into her eyes. Slowly, the Pegasus’ fast breathing slowed.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That clothe….it is from my dear friend’s gown… I remember now! I don’t know what happened….it all took place so quickly! For weeks someone had been following us…we didn’t know who…Oh, I don’t know what to do!”
“Please, please, try and stay calm. Why don’t you wait until we are in a safe place before you tell me your story?”

The forest was growing dark. Although just that morning Kateri would not have been in the least frightened to travel though the forest in the dark, her trust in the goodness of all its inhabitants had been shattered through the events of the afternoon. Now, she knew she would not have been able to make the journey alone, for though she could in know way be called a coward, and though she was in fact one of the bravest of all the Elvin princesses, she now knew that there were those in the forest who could and would attack her. These beasts were indeed far too powerful for her, for she was still a young Elf and a novice the ways of white magic.

Nonetheless, the Pegasus and Kateri reached the kingdom of the elves in safety. As soon as Kateri passed through the enchanted gate through which only those who wished no evil upon the elves could enter, she was surrounded by friends.
“What happened?” cried Emily. “We’ve all been so worried. It’s taken you ages to return. Some of the men went out to try and find you, but you were no where to be found!”
“Princess Kateri,” a deep voice said, and the girls, looking up, found themselves facing one of the Elders, a group of wise and respected elves who dealt with all matters of importance that occurred in the Elvin Kingdom. “You must follow me. Honored One,” he added, turning to the Pegasus, “We are amazed and privileged to have you here with us. Please, follow me as well. And you, Princess Emily.”
The group of elves around the two girls and the Pegasus parted for Kateri, Emily and the Pegasus.

A little while later, Kateri, the Pegasus, and Emily sat in a small lounge in the Place of Councils. As the Princess of the Elvin Kingdom, Kateri, and her friends as well, now had to appear before the Council to explain what had happened to her while in the forest. The Elders were gathering at the moment. Suddenly, the door opened, and a beautiful, aged elf came in carrying a tray on which glasses of a strange, misty substance stood.
“Here, dear ones, drink this. It will calm your spirits.”
“Oh, thank you, Meginia.” Kateri tried to smile, taking one of the glasses from the tray and sipping from it.
“I’ll leave you to yourselves for now. But let me warn you, you shall be summoned soon. For now, sit here and collect your thoughts. I’ll come get you once you are called for.”

Maedaeria, Ep. 5

As the creature soared into the air, a sudden gust of wind blew Kateri's dark hair about her face. She stared up into the blue sky as the monster slowly turned into a tiny dot, until he, and the young woman with him, disappeared completely from sight. The forest, ancient and serene, was silent all around her. A small, white strip of cloth on the leafy ground caught Kateri’s eye. She slowly knelt down, taking the small piece of cloth in her hand. Suddenly, she heard a rustling of leaves, a ninny, a fearful cry.

Kateri straightened up, looking anxiously around her.
“Who’s there?” Kateri cried. Her own voice sounded strange to her: faint, fearful. At first, no one answered, but then, a soft, “help me!”
“Who are you, where are you?” Kateri called, her pluck returning to her.
“Where am I? I haven't the slightest idea! I fell into some sort of pit…maybe an old well. I don't know what happened... I can't seem to remember a thing...”
"Oh, don't worry, I'll find you!" Kateri searched around carefully, cautious of where she placed her feet, lest she fall into the ditch too. This turned out to be a rather ineffectual caution, because suddenly the ground gave way beneath Kateri and she tumbled down into a deep, dark crevice, landing at the feet of a chestnut mare.
“Ow,” Kateri cried, rubbing her head.
“Oh dear, I hope you’re not seriously damaged. I didn’t mean for you to all into the pit too.”
“Why, you’re a talking horse!” Kateri exclaimed gleefully, staring up at the horse. “Of course I’ve known talking beasts….But they have grown so scarce under Syncrad’s rule…I haven’t seen one in hundreds of years!”
“Oh, I’m not just a talking horse. I’m a Pegasus. Now, if you help me out of this tangled web I’m caught in, I can fly us both out of here.”
Standing up, Kateri saw the lovely, soft wings of the Pegasus. Her eyes wide with admiration, she quickly starting bending back the think brambles that the mare was caught in.
“Oh, thank you,” the mare said gratefully once she was free. “Now, climb on my back, and I’ll get us out of here!”
Kateri scrambled onto the high back of the Pegasus, and they were about to soar out of the ditch when suddenly Kateri exclaimed, and tumbled of the mare.

“What is it?” the Pegasus cried, startled. Turning around, she saw Kateri digging around a large, round rock frantically. “What are you doing?” Suddenly, Kateri had the round stone in her arms, and a torrent of cool water was rapidly filling the well. Kateri rushed to the mare, clambering onto her back.
“Go, go now!” she screamed, and the mare kicked off from the ground, soaring out into the sunlight.

Kateri and the Pegasus circled the forest.
“What happened back there?” the horse cried, indignant.
“See this stone?” Kateri asked, reverently holding the circular stone before her.
“So? What is it?”
“In this stone rests the fate of Elvaeria, Linaeria, Maedaeria, and all the world.”

New Story!

Chapter One


The year was 1678. The sky was a dull gray, the air muggy, stifling. The clouds above were dark and heavy with rain, and yet it refused to pour. Through the windows could be seen the muddy cobbled streets, the stately mansions lining the wide lane. Passing carriages and the few pedestrians still hurrying home could be glimpsed out parlor windows.

At the dock, the air tasted salty. The waves hurled, crashing against one another and lapping at the boats resting in the harbor. The port was alive with activity. Sailors bustled around, some lugging large crates and barrels onto and from the ships, swearing loudly, their laugher and voices raucous as the cries of the circling seabirds.

Many people crowded round the port as a dark ship came into bay. The rowdy, hard-worked people of the little port town of Ravenhill would use any excuse for a celebration, and the arrival of the Monarch from her long, seaward voyage was the perfect occasion for a hullabaloo. As the ship neared the dock, Captain Tobias Horatio could be seen yelling orders, the crew flying around, completing their various duties. Soon the men were swooping from the ship, disappearing to their various destinations. Carlo stood on the dockyard, his small face grimy with soot and mud. He smiled, waving at a tall, thin figure standing on the deck of the Monarch.

Enrique Cossaire heaved a deep sigh as he watched Carlo. As relieved as he was that he was at long last going to once again stand on land, he felt that a heavy burden was weighing him down, as though a great stone were resting atop his heart. The other men glared at him as they passed, some muttering curses under their breath. Enrique knew the only thing that was keeping him alive was the fact that Captain Horatio had a strange affinity for him, which led him to protect Enrique from the many threats of the men.

“And whither shall you be going once on land? Have you ever been to Ravenhill before this?” The Captain’s booming voice shocked Enrique out of his gloomy contemplations.
“Captain,” Enrique cried, his dark face full of admiration. “No, sir, I’ve never been before. I suppose I’ll look around for a bookshop, perhaps get some new quills and paper. But nowhere in particular.”
The captain, a broad, tall man, wore scuffed, brown high-topped boots and a once-fine blue vest that was now beginning to look shabby and old. He had rough, scraggy features, unkempt black hair, and dark piercing eyes. Yet, something about him bespoke superior intelligence and an active, informed mind. Never had Enrique heard him use the rough language of a common sailor. He spoke and stood like a gentlemen.
“That’s what I love about you, Enrique,” the Captain laughed, staring at Enrique in amusement. “The bookshop, whilst your companions visit saloons and drink till they drop.”
Enrique hung his head in embarrassment, his cheeks red.
“Nothing at all to be ashamed of, my friend,” Captain Horatio added, giving Enrique a heartening nod.
“If only the others saw it that way…they seem to think rather differently,” Enrique muttered, more to himself than to the Captain.
Captain Horatio laughed.
“If every fellow put much store on what others thought, the world would be a dismal place indeed. Now get ye to the nearest bookshop, young man, and be here bright and early tomorrow morning.”

As Enrique stepped onto the dock, he breathed deeply, taking in the aroma of fish and salt that he was so accustomed to smelling.
“Enrique, Enrique!” Carlo rushed toward him, his boyish face rosy and flushed.
“Shh, not so loud!” Enrique murmured, glancing around to see if any of his fellow crew members were nearby. Then, grinning broadly, Enrique laughed, “My young cousin, how are you?” Ruffling Carlo’s hair, he added, “And how is your mother?”
At this, a shadow passed over Carlo’s ruddy face.
“Much worse. She’s been having aches and pains all over; she’s not been herself for days. She’s been calling for someone… ‘Edouard.’ I think he might be my father.”

The cottage was small and shabby; it seemed as though it was tilted to the side. As Enrique passed through the doorway, he found himself praying that there would not be a strong gust of wind, for fear that the little shack might topple over. Inside, the prospect was no better. It was a one room cottage, containing little more than a rickety table and chairs and a small bed with a straw mattress. A woman lay on the bed, covered in a threadbare quilt, shivering. She was flushed and feverish, muttering in her sleep.
“Colette?” Enrique whispered, kneeling down beside his aunt. “Can you hear me?”
Enrique jumped back in surprise when Colette’s blue eyes flashed open, her hand suddenly reaching out and clutching his shirt in a startlingly strong grip.
“Edouard?” she cried desperately.
“No, Colette. It’s I, Enrique, your nephew. Don’t you recognize me?”
Colette’s grasp slackened, her hand dropped to her side, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“Good gracious, what is the matter with her?” Enrique whispered, his eyes wide and fearful. He suddenly felt Carlo’s hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the young boy’s large brown eyes filled with tears.
“Carlo, Carlo!” Enrique turned, hugging his cousin. Planting a kiss on his head, he grasped him firmly by the shoulders. “Listen to me. You must not be afraid, no matter what happens. You are a brave young scallywag, I know. You must simply trust. She’ll get better, you’ll see.”

Enrique soon sent Carlo out on some errands, thinking it best if the boy be out of the house for a while, free of its shackling misery. As he sat on a shaky chair by his aunt’s bedside, his head nodded with fatigue. Suddenly his eyes shot open. Colette’s skeletal hand was gripping his knee.
“Enrique. You’re here. I knew you would come.”
“Yes, Aunt, yes, I’m here!” Enrique grasped Colette’s hand, his eyes shining with tears.
“Listen to me. I know my time is finally coming, thank God. The timing is right; you are here. When I die – no, said no words against it, we both know it is undeniable – when I die, you must take care of Carlo. Take him on the Monarch with you, take him to sea!”
“Aunt, I can’t –”
“Promise me, Enrique!” His aunt’s blue eyes were indomitable, her chin set. For but a moment, Enrique looked into the face of his aunt from years before; the same determination, the same lust for life. But then it disappeared, her eyes went glossy and her breathing grew thin. “Edouard, Edouard…”

Maedaeria, Ep. 4

Okay guys! here's more!!! I decided to be in the story... I'm Marinka! You don't get to see much of her in this episode, but she'll appear more later on!

I again apologize for the long delay in introducing MC (Ania) and Bethany (Bethleyom) into the story. It simply means you're going to have a grand entrance!!! ;)

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Marinka peered down at the two elves, her wings quivering with interest. One of the girls had raven black hair; the other dark brown. That they were elves was certain, for they had the tall, graceful forms and the pointed ears, and wore the long, flowing gowns made of a shimmering Elvin material impossible to duplicate.
“Come on, Emily,” the taller one said, as they hurried through the forest on winged feet. “We’ll get it now. The feast starts in an hour.”
“What are you doing out here, Marinka?” The voice was stern, and so was the face.
“Oh, Father,” Marinka turned, her pointed face guilty. “Nothing. I was simply enjoying the cool autumn breeze.”
“You should be out with the others, doing mischief to those who trespass in our forest.” Floritzel frowned at his daughter. “And these wings, ridiculous! Dull, dreary, lifeless brown?”
Marinka looked down at her mouse-brown wings. She blushed.
“Why brown, Marinka? Dirt brown? Look at the beautiful colors around you! Gold, red, brilliant orange, violet, blue, yellow! Fall is full of dazzling colors. Why brown?”
“Father, it’s not my fault if my wings are brown!” Marinka’s wings drooped, her voice low.
“Well, you could at least try and be like other pixies! Why sit here all day, when there is heaps of tomfoolery and mischief to be done! After all, Marinka, you are the daughter of the King of Fairyfolk!”

***********

Kateri pulled Emily after her.
“We’re almost there,” she smiled.
“I think I hear them calling us,” Emily replied anxiously.
“I hope they won’t be too angry,” Kateri grimaced, looking down at her sodden Elvin gown. “We did get a little grubby, didn’t we?”
“Well, at least we know that baby’s going to be okay!” said Emily.
“That’s true. Now come on!” Kateri sped up, only to abruptly halt. “Do you hear something?”
“No…Why, do you?” Emily whispered, looking nervous.
“I – don’t know. Here, you go on without me. I want to look around.”
“Oh, but Kateri, we’re in enough trouble as it is! You don’t want to be late for the feast too!”
“It will only take a moment….Go on.” Kateri smiled reassuringly at Emily. The younger girl shrugged.
“Alright, but you’d better hurry! See you.” Emily said, before dashing off, waving.

“Hello?” Kateri called. “Anybody there?” Something scuffled behind an enormous tree, shaking leaves and cracking twigs. Kateri slowly crept toward the tree. Peering around it, she saw a horrendous sight. A tall, black figure stood over the fallen body of a young woman, her golden hair spread over her face, concealing her features. The figure, draped in an aged, midnight black cloak, slowly turned, revealing a face swathed in black material, only the beady black eyes visible. Those eyes sent shivers through Kateri’s body. They seemed to peer into her very inner soul. She froze with fright. The creature, the man, or whatever it was, looked at her. Then it slowly, deliberately, turned its back on her, leaning down and picking up the strange woman. It turned once more, looked Kateri in the eye. Suddenly, out of its back, strange, hideous wings sprouted, wings twice the size of the creature itself. It gave Kateri one more searching glance, took a step forward, and whispered. She didn’t understand it, but she knew what it meant.
“You’re next.”

Maedaeria, Ep. 3

I know, I know. Ridiculous! A third post in ONE DAY??? But I'm just in a posting mood, I guess. And apparently a writing mood too. Here is some more of Maedaeria!! I just wrote it. I know I said the next episode would have Bethany and MC, but it turned out they won't be introduced until the next one, maybe even later!! Ahh!!! SORRY GUYS!!!

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The sun was getting lower in the pale blue sky. The air grew chill and a sharp wind began to blow. Adrastius slowly traveled through the King's forest. He would reach the edge of the forest in less then two hours, but the hike was made more difficult and dangerous because of the child in his arms. It had long been believed by the peasants of Maedaeria that this forest, vast and lush, was enchanted. This belief was only strengthened by the fact that though the land of Maederia grew more barren and empty as the years past, this forest continued to grow and flourish.

During King Syncrad's rule, disaster upon disaster had plagued Maedaeria. Syncrad was an ambitious king; it was his wish to expand Maedaeria as far as the Western Sea, passed the land of Linaeria. Linaeria was a peaceful, prosperous country, one which had never been anything but an ally to Maedaeria. When King Syncrad ascended the throne, he almost immediately declared war on the nation. Already, Maedaeria was suffering from plagues, famines, and countless other evils. It was not hard, therefore, to blame affluent, blooming Linaeria for Maedaeria's troubles. Many people, especially the nobility and gentry, agreed with Syncrad and supported the war. Ever since, war had been a constant. Only the closest of Syncrad's supporters were protected from having their children, at the young age of fourteen, drafted into the war.

Ridiculous taxes were laid upon the Maedaerians, making it impossible for almost anyone to prosper, other than the King and his nobility. To make matters worse, in the last year, a famine, worse than any that had befallen Maedaeria before, had set in. The land was parched by endless, boiling sun. Rain refused to fall; cattle dropped like flies; rivers dried up; fields were wastelands. Only in this forest, secretly known by most as Elvaeria, the land of the Elves, did animals prosperous and multiply, plants grow lush and fertile, and rivers flow fast and brimming over with cool, clear water. Yet none were allowed to enter into this forest, and any who were heard to call it anything but the King's Forest could suffer the penalty of death.

The War had now reached its seventh year. It was an ungodly war, in which countless gruesome horrors had taken place. The Maedaerian soldiers were feared more than death in both Linaeria and Maedaeria. They were trained to be merciless, cruel. Stories of the executions of hundreds of innocent Linaerians were whispered of, as were others tales...tales too grisly, too unimaginable, to utter without quavering. The barbarous, inhumane tactics of the Maedarian forces were one of the only things that kept Linaeria from defeating Maedaeria. As it was, the war was caught in a deadlock. Maedaeria was in the midst of a horrible famine, but it was a much larger, much more populous country than Linaeria, more advanced in weapons and war tactics and with a vast army. Linaeria, on the other hand, had no finely trained soldiers, no ingenious military tactics. It had only a handful of unfailingly patriotic men.

Adrastius leaned against a sturdy tree, staring helplessly at the child. It was screaming. He was in a clearing. The tall, brilliantly foliaged trees leaned in, making a canopy above them. The little bit of daylight left to them filtered through the wide, red, orange and golden leaves, speckling the ground with color. Kateri and Emily sat in the branches of one of the lofty trees, hidden.
"Do you think he'll leave the baby here?" Emily whispered, pulling her shimmering, Elven-made cloak around her shoulders.
"I hope so," Kateri replied, peering down at the man holding the child. "If we don't return soon, people shall start to wonder."
Adrastius stiffened. For the hundredth time that day, he thought he heard whispering; felt as though he were being followed. He glanced around him. What if there were soldiers hiding behind the trees. He shivered, thinking of the horror stories he had heard about Syncrad's soldiers. Nonetheless, he straightened up.
"Who goes there?" he called, trying not to sound as fearful as he was. Though no answer came, he was sure someone was there. "If you wish something from me, come out and ask me face to face! I know you're there!" He looked down at the babe, who continued to wail loudly. "Oh, nevermind," he whispered, holding the child closer to him. "If anyone is there, apparently they don't wish me harm, or they would have attacked me by now. I could hardly get more vulnerable, what with only a bow and a few arrows, and a child to carry. Poor thing, you must be starving." He looked around the clearing, thinking how much more the babe could suffer.

"Where's he going?" Kateri wondered aloud, as the man left the clearing. "This is the perfect place to leave him!"
"He heard us," said Emily, her chin in her hands.
"But how? How can a mere human hear us? We're elves!"
"He doesn't seem so bad, you know," Emily said. "He's really gentle with the baby."
"Yeah, except for the fact that he's planning on leaving him to starve to death somewhere in this forest."


The trees were becoming farther apart, the pathway wider and wider. Surely he was reaching the end of the forest. The baby's relentless screeching made Adrastius' head pound, and his stomach ached from hunger.
"Almost there now, little one," he said softly, smiling at the baby.
"I don't think he's going to leave the baby at all!" Kateri cried.
"I think you're right," Emily sighed happily. "So we don't have to worry about taking the baby to a loving home after all."
"Well, I think we should stay for a bid longer...just to make sure," Kateri said, "After all, he could simply be planning on giving the child a swift death, rather than a drawn out one."
"Ooh, do you think so?" Emily cried, staring at the young man.
"No, I don't. But better safe than sorry. Come on."

The two followed closely behind Adrastius, until at last he reached the very edge of the forest.
"Home is not far from here, little one," he said to the baby, gently caressing his soft head.
"We can't go with him to his house," Kateri said, disappointed.
"Oh, but why?" Emily exclaimed.
"You know what would happen if we were seen, Emily. It would be dreadful. We're never supposed to leave the Elvaeria. Don't worry, I don't think anything will happen to the baby. He's in safe hands now."

It was a short hike from the forest to Adrastius' hut. The baby cried pitifully. Adrastius had little doubt that he had eaten nothing for many, many hours. He hurried as quickly as was humanly possible. At last, he reach the door of the hut, out of breath. He dashed in.

"Audrina!" he called as soon as he entered the small hut. A faint cry reached his ears. "Audrina?" Fear washed over him, a greater fear than any he had experienced that day. He rushed to the tiny cubicle which was the bedroom. A young girl lay on a stack of hay covered with a threadbare blanket. Her face was streaked with tears, and in her arms she held a newborn.
"Adrastius," she sobbed.
"My love, why...our son?" he breathed, looking down at the still baby. But something was wrong. The baby did not stir, nor even seem to breath.

The child in his arms was wailing loudly, and Audrina stared wide eyed, bewildered, at him.
"Where did you find that child?" She cried, trying vainly to sit up. "How...?"
"Audrina, our son..."
Tears shone in Audrina's eyes.
"Stillborn," she whispered.
Adrastius didn't move. He barely breathed. Stillborn?
"Adrastius, the baby...Who's is he? Here....give him to me."
Adrastius, as though in a daze, passed the tiny child to his wife. She quickly began to nurse him. Immediately the babe stopped wailing. Into his own arms Adrastius took the silent, still, white form of his son. How cold he was, how pale. Yet, he was beautiful, perfect.


"Adrastius, this child is at death's door." Audrina's quiet, pain-filled voice brought Adrastius back to life. His wife, delicate, pale, looked beseechingly at him. Her eyes. Never had he seen anything to match her eyes. They seemed to take up her whole face, golden, encircled in long, dark lashes. Some though them grotesque. To Adrastius, there was nothing as beautiful. "Where did he come from?"
"I found him. No... He was given to me."
"Where?" Audrina's large eyes grew still larger.
"I -- I know you don't like me to go into the forest, Audrina...But...I had to, I had to get something for us to eat. I went hunting in Elvaeria. I was caught, and the man, he was no soldier, but a nobleman, threatened to have me hung. Instead, he gave me this child, and told me to leave him in the forest to starve. He said if I didn't, the penalty would be severe."
Audrina looked down at the child.
"You can't. We can't do that, Adrastius."
"No, I know that. But he expects proof... He will be back in three days to see the child's body."
Audrina's golden eyes shimmered.
"These clothes are finely made," she said, fingering the newborn's beautiful, silken dress, and his lovely blanket. "Surely the dress of a nobleman's child. Why would they wish him killed? He is beautiful, strong. He is protected, by someone, something...How else could he have stayed alive, with no mother, no food for nearly a whole day? He is meant to live, Adrastius."
Adrastius did not reply. He was staring at his own son.
"I know what we can do," he said.

Just for fun

I have probably started thousands of stories in my lifetime. Seriously. Haha. And I've only ever finished ONE. Even so, it's kind of fun when I find some old story I've written ages ago and never finished. I just found this story in an old email account of mine. I must have written it one day when I was bored and saved it in my drafts, cause that's where it was! But I wonder what it was going to be about?? I decided to post it because it's silly and funny and so old!! What do you think? I must have written it when I was ten or eleven.

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Chapter One
The Little Yellow House Atop the Green Hill


If you follow a little dirt path that winds through long fields covered with small, pretty flowers, over grassy hills dotted with butterflies, past a large farm filled with animals, under a blue sky spotted with fluffy white clouds, you will come to Mrs. Merdodle's small yellow house atop a little green hill. It will look cosy and quiet and very proper. It will seem as if it has always been a serene, calm little place where nothing strange or abnormal has ever happened . . . but there was a time when it wasn't quite so.

Mrs. Merdodle looks quite a bit like her house. She is small, and has yellow hair, and very much like her house's large, square windows, she has large, square spectacles. She looks perfectly "de rigueur" and decorous, but she also has a comfy, kind look about her face and blue, twinkly eyes. She, like her house, is just started to look a tiny bit old. A few white and gray hairs mix with her blond ones, and a couple of wrinkles (though they might come more from laughter than age) show around her eyes. The little house is missing some shingles, and the wood looks a bit gray around the yellow edges. But both she and the house, you can tell, are still brimming with life.

Mrs. Merdodle loves fancy things. She loves long, elegant dresses, fluffy, handsome scarves, genteel, dainty little gloves, and just grand shoes. But most of all, she loves hats. Mrs. Merdodle has boxes and boxes of hats. She has lacy hats and frilly hats. She has pink hats and blue hats and green hats and yellow hats and purple and brown hats. She has striped hats and plaid and polkadot hats. She has so many hats that her house, no matter how hard it tried, could not possibly fit them all in one or two closets alone. For a while Mrs. Merdodle didn't know what to do, but soon enough she got an idea. She emptied out her kitchen cupboards, her bathroom cupboards, her dresser, her desk drawers, and, of course, all of her closets, including the bathroom one, and put as many hats as she could into those. When all the hats did not fit, she put them under her bed, in her pantry, and even in her fringe, leaving just barely enough room in it for a week's groceries. She still had rather a lot of hats left over, so she just lay them on her kitchen table and coffee table, her dresser and her bathroom counter, and anywhere else they would fit. Whenever friends came to call, the hats that lined the couch of course needed to be moved, and the ones on the toilet seat, and the few she could fit on the lamps, too. When that happened, they had to be moved onto the floor, so often it was hard to move around in the little house, but Mrs. Merdodle didn't mind, after all, they were her hats, her beloved hats.

The only pet Mrs. Merdodle had, for she didn't have enough room for more, was a little goldfish in a goldfishbowl, and sometimes even that had to be covered up with a few hats. She had once had a little pet bird named John, but it had been quite annoyed with the perpetual hats that were loaded unto its cage, and as soon as it had the chance, it had run away. Sometimes, on her daily walks, Mrs. Merdodle saw it in a tree with its new family, but whenever this happened John would give her a disdainful peek and pretend to overlook her, and he taught his two children, Jane and Matthew, to do the same. At first this had badly hurt Mrs. Merdodle's feelings, but one day she had seen him give her a almost loving glance, and after that she knew that his feelings were the ones hurt, and she had since tried to sooth them, leaving out little snacks, and now she had a feeling he was only pretending to be sad so the she would not stop putting out the tastey treats. The goldish was named Apple Sauce, for Mrs Merdodle had once dropped some apple sauce into the bowl, and the fish had gobbled it up and looked up as if expecting more, and had ever since had only eaten apple sauce, and no other name suited it.

The house itself seemed quite happy with its occupants, and never comlained about the hats at all. Perhaps it understood that hats are 'just plain jolly old things' as Mrs. Merdodle put it, after all, it's roof looked somewhat like one brown one Mrs. Merdodle herself owned, and often wore. Or else it had just gotten used to Mrs. Merdodle, and had learned to put up with everything about her. Whatever it was, the little yellow house stood stately atop the green hill just the same.




Chapter Two
The Hat


One day Mrs. Merdodle went out to do a few errands. First she had to pick up some milk and eggs and a bottle of apple sauce from the local grocer, Mr. Kerboble. The line at the counter was so very long that Mrs. Merdodle could not wait patiently. Soon enough she put her eggs and milk and bottle of apple sauce, and a delicious looking chocolate bar she hadn't been able to resist buying, down on a very large bag of potatoes, told them she would be right back (they didn't seem to mind her leaving for just a few minutes, for all they did was lie there on the big bag.) and that she was just going to walk about the street for a bit. Out she went, and the very first thing she did was walk into her favorite store, the clothes, shoes and accessories store. Inside was warm and cosy, and Mrs. Merdodle looked down at her newest pair of shoes she had just gotten the other morning, and somehow they just didn't seem that fancy anymore. She looked longingly at the many rows of shoes that lined the farthest corner of the store. She smiled at the lady at the counter and walked quickly to the shoe section.

As she looked at each shoe slowly and carefully. She found a very, very nice pair, and was just about to buy it when she saw it. She saw the hat. It was a big, beautiful, fancy, purple hat. It was purple all over. It had a wide, shiny purple ribbon around it that ended in a big purple bow. A big, fluffy, soft, purple feather stuck out at just the perfect angle. Mrs. Merdodle had never seen a hat nearly as fancy before. Carefully and lovingly picking it up, she slowly, slowly brought it to the counter.
"How - how much does this hat cost?" She asked, barely able to breath. The lady told. It was a very expensive hat. A VERY, very expensive hat. In all her life, Mrs. Merdodle had never, ever heard of such an expensive hat. She looked in her purse, and her pockets, and even in the big frills on her dress, but she couldn't find anywhere near enough money!

Mrs. Merdodle slowly walked back to where the fancy, purple, expensive hat belonged. She sadly put it back, as carefully as she could. Then, forgetting all about her errands, and the milk, eggs and apple sauce, she started on her way home. The food hadn't minded being left on the bag of potatoes for a little while, but they did mind being completely forgotten, for they rolled off of the sack and out into the street, looking quite as if they expected Mrs. Merdodle to come and pick them up. That was where kindly Mr. Kerboble, who had been out taking a breath of air and brushing his bushy white mustache, found them and brought them safely inside, left with the conclusion the wind had knocked them down somehow.

The little hosue must have wondered when its friend came back with nothing, after she had told it just that morning that it was going to bring home some food. The goldfish surely did wonder, and was rather disappointed, for it had been looking forward to the apple sauce very expectantly. Mrs. Merdodle thumped onto the couch, barely making room for herself by moving the hats intime. What's wrong? Apple sauce seemed to ask. When Mrs. Merdodle saw Apple Sauce, she remembered about the food. "Oh dear!" She cried, "I've certainly hurt the poor milk and eggs an apple sauce's feelings! I'd best go fix that! After all, I do want some supper." Apple Sauce's face agreed, and Mrs. Merdodle put her coat back on and went back out right away.

As she walked down the little dirt path under the blue sky spotted with fluffy white clouds, over the hills dotted with butterflies and through the long fields covered with small, pretty flowers, she past a farm full of animals. Suddenly, she had an idea. She walked straight into the barn where there were lots of horses and cows and chickens. Out in the fields, Mrs. Merdodle saw the farmer with his sheep.
"Hello!" She called, "Mr. FARMER! Hello!" Finally he looked up. He started running towards her. He jumped over a tall fence and kept on running and running towards her. She started to think he might mistake her for a thief and he might be coming to grab her and put her in some kind of jail. But before she could do anything, he hopped up in front of her and cried, "Yippy-ky-yay! Hello there!"

Maederia, Ep. 2

Hey! So here's a bit more.... Not much, but a bit. None of you are in this part of the story....But I'm going to be introducing Bethany and MC in the next episode, hopefully! :) JFYI, I decided to make Scyncrad (the king) have a DAUGHTER rather than a sister, about whom he had the dream. Wait...does that make sense?? I mean he wants to kill his GRANDSON rather than his NEPHEW.

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Lord Mendris slowed his horse to a trot, his startling eyes pools of blue. Icy masks, hiding all feeling and thoughts. It was impossible to decipher what went on behind them.
“Wretched peasant,” he muttered to himself, his voice gruff. “I wish I hadn’t had to scare him so badly, but if I hadn’t, I doubt he’d do as I ordered…”
“And why did you order it?” A clear, high voice questioned, echoing from somewhere in the shadows of the lofty, colorfully dressed trees. Medris spun around in his surprise, nearly toppling off his horse.
“Who’s there? In the name of the King, may he live forever, you’d better tell me!”
“Why did you want your own flesh and blood murdered so mercilessly? Why did you wish for the slaughtering of innocent blood? Do you not remember?”
“Remember what? Who are you? What do you want?” Medris spat, his face red with fury.
“Are you a coward, Mendris?”
“How dare you!” Mendris swung himself off his steed, heaving his heavy, bejeweled sword from its sheath.
“Do you not remember what was done for you at your birth? Have you forgotten?”
“How do you know my name? SHOW YOURSELF!”
“To kill an innocent is a crime too heinous to voice. Much evil and affliction shall befall you for this sin.”
A shadow of fear crossed over Mendris’ dark face. His blue eyes widened.
“But I didn’t kill him! How could I? My own flesh and blood? My cousin's grandchild? Even in a purely practical sense…What if Syncrad was ever to regret murdering his daughter’s child? He is growing old and has still produced no heir. There may come a time when he laments this act. And then who else shall the blame fall upon, but me? I washed my hand of the crime! I gave the child to a herdsman! His fate no longer rests with me!”
“You are right, Mendris. Your fate now rests with him.”
“Who are you, demon? Why do you hide? Reveal yourself!” But no answer came, no matter how loudly or how long Medris called.

* * *

Anaera’s eyes shot open. She was sweaty and pale, her long, curly black hair damp and limpid. She looked down at the bed beside her, expectantly, hopefully. There was nothing there but her own empty arms. She sat up, her hands outstretched.
“The baby!”
A lady-in-waiting was by her side in but a moment.
“Dear Princess, please, you must rest. You are exhausted.”
“No, no. My son, where is he?” Anaera cried, trying to get out of bed.
“Please…you must lie down, your Highness! Do not excite yourself!”
“I want my son.” Anaera’s eyes were wide with fear, her face lost of all color.
“Mabia, go and get the medication,” Kaelos, Anaera’s old nurse, now lady-in-waiting and long time companion, shoved the younger girl away, frowning at her. “Here, dear one, lie down.” She gently pushed Anaera back onto the bed. She then pulled a chair close to the bed and smiled kindly at the princess.
“I brought you some soup. Eat some, it's your favorite.”
“Thank you, I’m not hungry. Kaelos, I want my baby, please! I just want my baby.”
“Anaera, you must eat. It was a strenuous labor….full of difficulties…”
“Kaelos, you must tell me, as a friend… Where is my son? Please…” Anaera’s eyes peered beseechingly into Kaelos’ round, slightly wrinkled face. “My child…”
"Here, dear Princess, eat your soup."
“Kaelos! Tell me. Is he dead?” Anaera’s face was deathly white with fear and apprehension. A dark shadow crept over Kaelos’ face as well, her eyes revealing not only fear, but doubt and guilt. She hesitated.
“Yes," it seemed difficult for her to utter the small word. "Yes, dear one. He is dead. He was ... stillborn.”
“No, no, please. It can’t be! ...I heard him cry! I know I did.”
Kaelos’ eyes widened. She shook her head.
“You were suffering the heavy pains of labor, you were under the influence of heavy medication…You must have imagined it.”
“No, I swear I heard him crying, Kaelos.” Anaera put out supplicating arms. “I know he was alive!”
At that moment, Mabia returned with a steaming cup. Kaelos quickly took it from her, gesturing for her to leave. She looked down at the young Princess and mourning mother. Tears sparkled in the old woman's eyes as she leaned over her.
“Here, drink this, Princess, it will help you rest, and take the pain away,” quickly Kaelos poured the hot liquid down Anaera’s throat. Moments later, the princess was deep asleep.

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Pronunciations:

Kaelos - KAY - lohs

Maederia, Ep. 1

I've written a bit more than this, but I'll post the rest later! :) And btw Emily, thanks for the idea you left in the comments!!! hehe.

So, tell me what you think!!! Do you like it?

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Kateri quietly crouched on the leaf strewn forest floor. At her waste hung a small sword bejeweled with diamonds and rubies. On her shoulder hung her Elvin-made bow, sturdy and polished. The sound of voices drifted through the cold October air.
“Tell me your name, herdsman.” A stern, deep voice commanded.
“Adrastius of Peluesius, my lord,” a voice replied, nervous, agitated.
Silently, Kateri tiptoed forward, peering through the brilliantly colored leaves of a tall tree. One of the men was tall and dark, draped in a fine cloak of rich blue. Black hair covered his eyes. In his arms he carried a bundle, but whether it was anything more than an armful of cloth was impossible to tell. A huge warhorse stood next to him, black as night, with a white star on his forehead. The other man was dressed in a patched tunic, a bow in his hands, and a threadbare sack slung over his narrow shoulders.
“What are you doing in the King’s forest?” the lord barked.
The herdsman, Adrastius, quavered under his fierce glare.
“My lord, forgive me, I meant no harm. This forest is swarming with creatures that his most royal Majesty, the King, may he live forever, never touches. My wife is with child, and we are starving. My lord, I only wished to hunt some rabbits for a stew.”
The lord growled, snatching the young man by his tunic.
“Never let me see you in these forests again, thief. If I ever do….Why, it’s ridiculous of me even to let you go this time! You should hung by the neck for this criminal thievery.”
“My lord, no, please, I beg of you….Be merciful!” Adrastius begged, nearly weeping with fear, though not for himself...for his wife and unborn child. How would they survive if he was killed?
“I shouldn’t be. Give me one good reason. And yet…if you could be of assistance to me…”
“My lord, anything!”
The lord hefted the bundle in his arms, revealing that it was nothing less than a newborn babe.
“This child’s fate is death. Take him and lay him in an exposed part of this forest. Leave him there for three days. On the third day I shall return, and you shall show me his body. If you do not follow my orders exactly, you shall suffer horribly.”
“M-my lord?” the young man said, shocked, indeed, disgusted, staring at the tiny child.
“Do you hear me? There shall be grave retribution if you do not follow orders.” With that, the nobleman roughly shoved the babe into the herdsman’s arms, mounted his warhorse, and galloped away.

The young man stood in the forest, tenderly holding the sleeping child in his arms. Kateri crouched behind the tree, watching him. Suddenly, a small hand touched her arm. She jumped in surprise.
“I’m sorry!” Emily cried. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How long have you been there?” Kateri breathed, brushing some of her raven black hair back from her face.
“Long enough to know that that rich young man was awful! How could he wish such an evil fate on an innocent baby?”
“I don’t know, but I agree he was horrible. Most humans are. Sometimes I feel as if we elves were the only creatures left with any good in them,” Kateri said sadly.
“Come on, we have to do something. We can’t let that shepherd kill that poor baby!”
“You know it’s forbidden to meddle in human affairs, Emily!” cried Kateri, though only half-heartedly. She too longed to help the babe.
“But Kateri, we have to! No one would ever know!”
“Well....okay,” Kateri agreed. “Come on, we'll follow him. When he leaves the baby, we'll carry it to some other family, one which will love him.”

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Pronunciations:

Adrastius: Ad-DRAY-stius

Pelues - Pel-oos-ius