“Mate, I’m starving. If we don’t feed soon I’m going to kill a village.”

David spoke with a chuckle in his voice. His head inclined up at his friend, his near brother, who was standing, staring out from the woods. Slowly the brunette stood too, walking over and placed a hand on his friends arm. “You okay mate?”

Absently Jake shifted, blinking his eyes and turning his head as if he’d been away far too long. His brother of sorts recognized the dangerous look; he’d been thinking of his past. The words “Let it go mate” didn’t begin to cover up the pain felt from taking your own siblings lives. The elder vampire met David’s eyes and nodded, “There’s a town nearby, if we’re cautious we can go out in the town to pick out our food – it’s cloudy enough.” With one swift movement and without anymore words the two nomads picked up any evidence that they had ever been there and disappeared through the dense brush, headed towards a town somewhere in the distance.

Back then her name was Elizabeth, not Clara which everyone now called her by. She was the eldest daughter of a cobbler and happened to be in the wrong place at the seemingly wrong time. The young woman with long brown hair and plain dress stuck out, for some reason, in both men’s vision – immediately she was their next target.

For the next few hours they followed her, either walking behind her or hiding behind bushes until they got the chance to lour her away. It was at night when they got the chance, any trace of light was fading and she was locking up her father’s shop, groceries in hand before returning home. They followed her down the country road for quite sometime before both thirsty vampires decided to attack.

The morning cold and raining,
dark before the dawn could come
How long in twilight waiting
longing for the rising sun
ohoh ohoh Oh ooh

Suddenly the young woman turned, her hazel eyes meeting the spot in the bushes where they hid, “Can I help you?” She asked, taking a daring step towards them though she could not see their faces. “Are you lost?” Clara, then Elizabeth, inquired, tilting her head to try and see the hiding men. “I can help you find your way home.”

There were only to options in a situation like this, they could full out attack – dispose of her, drink her blood and risk getting caught in the process. No, that was too risky. Instead, they both walked out from the woods into the failing light and damp rural town. Because of what they were they wore long clothing and jackets to hide their skin and hats to shade there face and most importantly, their eyes. “Can I do something for you?” The young woman asked, both frightened by the strange men’s appearance and yet, strangely used to it. Clearly, she wasn’t frightened nearly enough as she should have been in the situation; she was staring ultimate doom in the face.

“We’re new in town,” David said quickly, flashing Clara a charming smile before gesturing over to Jake, “my friend and I were wondering if you could bring us to the far outskirts; we bought a house there for our sisters and want to fix it up to surprise them.”

“New in town?” Clara repeated, her eyes watching the two strangers with extreme care. Something small inside her told her to run as she looked at them, both being taller and strong than she – even more than she even knew – but she didn’t, instead she locked eyes with David’s tall, blonde companion. It was her eyes that did it, Jake would come to tell me briefly upon inquiry. If she had not looked in his eyes, she may have just been another victim. “I’d be more than happy to show you two men to the far outskirts – I was just headed that way myself.” And then she smiled, eyes sparkling. The second part that weakened him was her smile.

“No,” Jake said abruptly and with more urgency than he meant to. He repeated the words precisely three more times while shaking his head and meeting her eyes, only briefly, when he finished. Quickly he recovered from his sudden outburst, “We know the way to the outskirts, I must apologize, my friend here is delusional.” Giving her the only smile he could muster between his confusion and conflict with thirst he tipped his hat. “Thank you for your time ma’am, and your courtesy. Better you get home before it gets much darker. Nasty men like to hang around these parts at night.” He knew she wouldn’t get the underlining meaning to the last sentence but David would. With one quick movement he grabbed David’s arm like he was clenching him for dear life and tried to walk away.

Boldly, though, Clara reached out to stop him. Putting her hand to his chest with only enough pressure on him to make him turn to look at her she placed a basket full of food in his hand. A useless basket of food, but a kind gesture nonetheless. “Have a good night.” She whispered to him before turning to walk away herself.

Horrified with himself for being so mesmerized by what should have been there meal Jake pulled David behind him as he made a v-line towards the woods. “What’s wrong with you?” David asked urgently, “What happened back there.”

“I don’t know.” Jake hissed through his teeth, pupils dilating frantically as his mind raced and thirst soared. Sitting down he clenched his head in his hands, pulling at his hair a bit. Not once before had his human side taken over that much since he had stumbled across David, a boy lying near dead, on the sidewalk. Rocking back and forth he rubbed his temples. “We need to follow her, we’ll get her next time.” His voice was quiet as he spoke to his partner. I need to watch her.
Like they would with any victim they normally tracked, they followed her every move and watched her house. She had three brothers and one sister, all younger than her and her father was a hunter, but not of deer. Despite their tracker actions, they didn’t attack, nor did they attempt to frighten the family.

It was daring for the men to ever try and come out of their hiding places as they risked being caught. But yet, on occasion, they did so. “You play beautifully.” Jake hissed from the dark corner of what should have been Clara’s father’s locked store. Gasping the girl jumped, turning her head and looking at the man in the corner. Her hands slid from the piano keys and she stood, walking towards him.

“How’d you get in?” She demanded, staring at his neon eyes.

“You’re heart’s racing.” The elder man purred, pushing aside a lock of curly blonde bangs.

“And with full right,” She hissed back, “you broke in.”

“On the contrary, dear Elizabeth Ewell, you never fully locked the back door. It’s dangerous to be so trusting…you never know what creeps may walk in under your nose.”

Softly the brunette laughed, “You're proof in the putting. Are you trying to make me fear you? Because if you are, you’re going to have to try harder than that. What? Do you think I don’t know what you are? That you wanted to kill me the first day you saw me? My dad’s a hunter, he kills your kind. I know what one of you looks like when you come walking down the street.”

Leaning back into the wooden wall behind him, Jake opened his arms, “Well then, Elizabeth,” His eyes sparkled devilishly, “why don’t you alert your father that two blood suckers have entered the vicinity. The run will prove good game for our bored souls.”

“I won’t do that.”

The kindness in the woman’s voice shocked him and made the vampire lean forward, his elbows on his knees. “And why not?” He retorted, tilting his head, “I’m a ruthless killer that’s just going to make your life living hell.”

“There’s something different about you.” She whispered, voice dropping to what would be unable to be heard by normal ears. Cautiously she walked towards him and sat across from him. “You’re different than those other things my dad hunts. You’re more human.”

You came like crashing thunder
breaking through these walls of stone
You came with wide eyed wonderinto all this great unknown
ohoh ohoh Ohoooh Oohh

Against his better judgment; Jake had he and David stay in place for several months and he visited the cobbler’s daughter every one of those days. It was risky behavior on a whole scale of levels but there some something about her – the lightness she had that his stone heart didn’t have and her sarcastic wit and stubborn nature – that drew him in. They had fallen for each other without even meaning it. I guess my family has a way of that happening.

Everything changed after those few months. Jake spent a week arguing with himself before pulling her aside one afternoon, in the cover of dense brush and telling her that he and David were moving on – as nomads do – and that she needed to stay right where she was; where she was safest. Being my sister she protested, going as far to tell him that she’d go with them whether it meant being right there in the heat of things with them or twenty miles away. Immediately, for her safety as she was still human then, Jake refused that option and shut the door for negiating.

In an attempt to get him to linger longer my sister asked if he would drop by her house that night before he left, “as usual” to say goodbye. If she got him to come then, maybe she could get him to stay. They would both stubborn souls after all.

“Don’t count on it.” He told her before he left, but he was lying; he did come by.

As liked as my sister’s father was, he was also frowned upon by many. After his wife’s death in labor he had become a bit of an alcoholic as well as a known “hunter”. To the public it was of the normal black bears and dear, but in reality it was werewolves and vampires. This all led up to the events that occurred that night; the night my brother allegedly said he would not be stopping by but, by some grace of his frozen heart, did.

Clara was home with her youngest brother Andrew and her sister Hannah, and while they both played and slept she waited for a non-showing Jake in the safety of her father’s hunting absence. It was well past midnight when the downstairs door opened with an unmentionable force. Though tired with lack of sleep my sister got up from her window seat and rushed down the stairs – assuming it was Jake having changed his mind. However, she was mid-way down the stairs when she caught sight of the scene below; four monsters with neon eyes stood in homes doorway, sniffing the air like dogs although these humans were furthest from one. In their hands they clutched a lifeless man, a familiar lifeless man with a knife in his hand and drained of all his blood.

“Jake?” Clara whispered, praying he was not one of the three. With sharp, precise movements the three thirsty monsters turned to face the woman, not even my brother could look so ruthless. Both of her siblings had woken up by that point after hearing the door open and now stood behind her on the top of the stirs “Liza? What’s happening?” Andrew asked.

“Come on, Andrew, Hannah.” Chasing her own feet up the stairs Clara grabbed her younger sibling’s shoulders and rushed them away from the stairs. “We have to get out of here.” There was urgency in her force but not nearly as much as there should have been by the pounding in her heart. The only exit from the house was the fire escape outside the bathroom window so that’s where she took them. What occurred next was brutal murder, Andrew and Hannah being taken first while Clara was thrown with devastating force into the bathtub. Her neck was broken on impact, so Jake said, and she was forced to watch her siblings die without being able to stop it. When they had finished the young kids they attacked the helpless Clara. She told me once, that her world went black altogether after Hannah was killed but she could still hear some of the world around her even though she could not feel or see what the Monsters were doing. A fifth and sixth party entered the bathroom, stopping an inevitable fate before it could have happened.

“It’s going to be okay.” Jake’s familiar voice whispered in her ear.

Hush now don't you be afraid
I promise you I'll always stay
I'll never be that far away
I'm right here with you

When my sister awoke she was in the woods, covered by my brother’s leather jacket with her head on his lap. A pool of blood and a body were next to her on to opposite sides. She was informed that the dead body was hers to feed on and the blood belonged to Jake and David’s last meal – the body now replaced Clara’s in her family’s house. “You are invisible” Jake told her, and when she inquired about her status he managed to say, through clenched teeth “You are one of us.”

“Did they do it?”

“I did it,” My brother responded, shamefully through his teeth once more. “I had no choice; it was that or watch you die.” Carefully he moved her head from his knee and stood to go find David, but not before he looked down at her. It was that look, Clara once told me, mixed with the tone of his voice and touch of his hand to her cheek that made her know we weren’t just hallow creatures.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars
You're so amazing the beauty you are
You came blazing right into my heart
You're so amazing you are...You are

"Well now, Jake, that wouldn't have happened to be a smile would it now?" Clara prodded from the doorway, an innocent smile painted perfectly on her face. It was a stab at my normally stoic facade and I knew that but I did not cave. Instead I narrowed my eyes lightly and pulled the green-blue hospital curtains back so the other nurses new that bed was free. "She liked you," My in-one-world sister continued, this time taking on a more serious note, "a lot, Jake. The same way Annora does, you have a way with children. You would have made a good father." Instinctively I scrunched my nose, back stiffening military-style as I breezed passed her, eyes focused on the computer desk across the way. A dense silence lingered, only filled with the sound of our feet along the tiled floor and medical equipment. "Jake-" Clara whispered, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

In one sharp movement I grabbed her hand but not with the intensity to hurt it. "Let's not go there, okay? That's a life that was thrown away years ago, a past neither of us can retrieve and we..." I swallowed my eyes tracing the contours of her face; I'd nearly forgotten how much I wanted to play with the gentle curls of her hair. I’d nearly forgotten how easily she changed me from one monster to something nearly human.

You came from heaven shining
Breath of God still flows from fresh on you
The beating heart inside me
Crumbled at this one so new
ohoh ohoh Oooh ooohhh

"You know where we stand, Clara. We both do. We have a family now, a good family." Softly, reluctantly I released her hand; feeling like a part of me went with it. Once more I stiffened, a mask used to skillfully hide emotions being pulled over me like a veil. With being turned comes an amazing ability to lie better than any normal human, but it also comes with an impeccable ability to perceive. When lying to another vampire you had to be quick, always one step ahead of them, one thing I could never seem to do with her. "Besides," I smiled softly at her while stuffing a pen in my coats pocket, "you were always the one who didn't want to kill the children."

To my surprise Clara grabbed my hand, "Honestly, Jake, you have to stop thinking like that. You aren't that monster you were then, no, you never were a monster. If you were you would have killed me when you had the chance. You never killed children, you didn't have the heart, both you and I know that." Her hand, soft and smooth reached up to dust a blonde curl from my forehead, only to brush against its marble surface. "You underestimate yourself." She whispered softly, her voice like velvet. How she could ever transfix me, I'll never know.

No matter where or how far you wander
For a thousand years or longer
I will always be there for you
Right here with you

Resting my head on Ryan’s shoulder I closed my eyes temporarily, paying attention to how we swayed before I opened my lids to look over at my family on our lawn. David, under the orders of our parents, was being relatively calm and nice, sitting on the porch railing beside Isaiah. Eli had pulled Zach up to dance like two crazy and wacky siblings only would. Laughing a bit I smiled and moved my eyes across the scene. My other siblings were interacting fairly normal, mom and dad sat on the porch beside Jake. I lingered on Jake, watching as he watched Clara play the piano. Her eyes were closed but his were only on her. Placing the pen he had been holding on the porch I watched as he stood, walking over to sit beside Clara.

At first she didn’t notice him but when he placed his hands on the keys to play in perfect harmony with hers she did. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, smiling a bit as he glanced up at her from his ducked head. He leaned towards her as he reached around her for a key and said merely a word before she closed her eyes again. Taking another minute to watch her he too closed his eyes. Neither spoke again for a long time that night, but it was enough.

Smiling I closed my own eyes and listened to Ryan’s unnecessary breathing.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars
You're so amazing the beauty you are
You came blazing right into my heart
You're so amazing you are...

As I rounded the corner, shoulder to shoulder with David I fussed with my cuff-links. I stretched my head from side to side and straightened my back; I felt like something out of Pride and Prejudice. Beside me David chuckled. “We look ridiculous.” He told me and I could help but smirk in agreement. Give us a pair of jeans any day, but a tux? Lord, take our immortal lives.

“Oh, wow.” Clara stood, dressed in a knee length dress herself staring at the two of us. Her eyes rose in amusement and a smirk formed across her face. “Tuxes? I’m impressed, Jake.” She teased, “I never thought I’d see you in one of those.”

“Yeah, well, it’s for Annora. She’s one hell of a lucky kid – she better appreciate it too because I don’t dress up like this for just anybody.”

Snorting Clara laughed, “That’s obvious…”

I hope your tears are few and fast
I hope your dreams come true at last
I hope you find love that goes on and on and on and on and on
I hope you wish on every star
I hope you never fall too far
I hope this world can see how wonderful you are

“Where’s Annora?” I asked Clara, on the edge of my toes, my mind was racing. Absently I rubbed my forehead, running through the events of the night – of Annora’s face as she whizzed past me on the way inside like her world had fallen down around her. In many ways; it had.

A shaken Clara met me, half relieved I was alright and half petrified at what Connor must have told her happened. “She’s upstairs,” She said with a shaky voice, like she should have been crying. Her mouth opened as she stared at me but nothing came out. Taking in an un-needed breath she cleared her mind and steadied herself enough to stand and grab my arm. Her grip was firm but soon she released it, wrapping her single arm around mine instead – letting me know she was glad I was alright. “Be gentle, okay? Last thing she needs is a lecture. She’s seventeen and her world’s fallen out from underneath her.” Slowly she released me and went to walk back into the living room to make sure Connor was okay. “Think of her as me, you’ll do just fine.”

Giving Clara the largest small smile I could manage in the heat of the situation I walked over briskly and hugged her; something I hadn’t done it far too long. Leaning down close to her I placed my lips by her ear, feeling her arms wrap temporarily around my torso. “There’s a difference, Clara,” I whispered into her ear, blinking as I could barely understand the words leaving my lips, “I wouldn’t risk my life knowing what it would do to you if something happened to me. I’d get us both the heck out of there; together. I’d keep us safe, not just you or I, but us. We’d stay together.” Pulling away I looked in her eyes before turning on my heel, dashing up the stairs as fast as I could. Annora’s door had slammed shut in the process of my running and I opened it just in time to see her thrust herself backwards onto her bed in hysterics.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars
You're so amazing the beauty you are
You came blazing right into my heart
You're so amazing...

“What the heck do you think you’re doing; scaring the crap out of me like that?!” Clara hissed at me as I climbed out of damaged car behind David and Annora. Whatever shards that should have killed me had left minor marks, like I had been through a raspberry bush.

“I wasn’t thinking.” I responded with the same tone of voice, from the squashed trunk I pulled Annora’s bag and tossed it to Zach. “I had one choice, trash the car or risk having to fight them off – 20 plus to three. Would you have rather I do that?”

“It would have been better than you crashing the car with Carter on the phone – we didn’t know what had happened to you. They have weapons that can kill our kind, Jake. You don’t know what was going through my head.” With flaming eyes Clara pulled my cars keys from my hands and walked over to it, too see if it was even still drivable. The engine worked though the front was damaged. Whether by her anger or just pure strength she stretched out the front and back of the car until it was normal again. Although there was no glass in the front window shield or the back Jasmine and Edmund, who were decided to drive with me to pose as David and Annora would be safe without them. “I swear to God, Jake Freeman, you ever scare me like that and I’ll rip your head off.” Shooting me a painful glare she stuffed my car keys back in my hand and grabbed Annora, heading off in the direction of her own car. I winced at the glare, the intensity of her stare had said enough.

“Hey,” I spoke abruptly, reaching out and grabbing David’s arm as he went to follow. I pulled my brother, the man I had spent most of my nomadic years with, close to me. We were inches away, my eyes narrowed into lethal slits. “You keep them safe, you got that? Otherwise-”

Softly David smirked, his eyes sparkling mischievously as Clara’s headlights hit them.
“Otherwise you’ll kill me.” My eyes softened a bit, one side of my mouth turning upwards in a sarcastic smirk. “Darn straight.” Although my words were joking I gave his arm a warning squeeze to let him know that I meant every word – to the bottom of my frozen heart.

You're so amazing you shine like the stars
You're so amazing the beauty you are
You came blazing right into my heart
You're so amazing you are...
You are
ooooooo

“You jerk,” Clara edged forward on my day bed towards the bed table, as if to examine my play. Folding her legs under her she placed her elbows on her knees. “You faked it, didn’t you? I’ve never beaten you in cards before.”

Shrugging I swiped the cards from the table before she could catch what I had done. “I guess you’re improving.” I told her carefully; she was the only woman I knew who could get completely turned off by a bit of good, clean cards when I tried to let her win. It was a kind gesture as I had been playing cards far longer than she had been alive and knew more ins and outs than she ever would, perhaps it was a bit of my own form of flirtation too. She, however, saw it as a moral sin of some sort.

“You’re one lousy liar.” She scoffed, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes. “I want a rematch.”

Giving Clara a fake yawn I checked the clock on the wall. “I’m tired,” I lied with a bit of a joking inclination in my voice, “besides, I have to go to the hospital shortly.” Leaning back into the pillows I stretch my arms, pushing aside the bed table with my foot. The table hit the floor with a bang but I knew no one was sleeping in that house – no one ever slept in our house – so it was safe. Moving my eyes from the fallen table to Clara I looked at her just in time to see her shove a pillow in my face.

“What on earth-?!” I exclaimed, flipping onto my side and off the bed at the same time. My solid body hit the floor with an even larger bang and I was Carter and mom would be down there wondering what on earth I was up to up there.

“This,” Clara said, whacking me once more, “is for letting me win, and this,” She whacked me again, trying not to laugh this time by the pitiful sight I was in, “and this one was just for the pure pleasure of torturing you.”

“Then it is war.” I reached as far as I could behind me to pick up another pillow and collide it with hers, a plume of feathers ensuing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

In case some of you don't know, today is Annapant's 17th birthday!!!! The founder of writing rants is old!! I hope you have a fabulous year, Anna. <3 <3 <3

Bleep. >>;

Hello, from the land of girl who doesn't keep up with ANYTHING anymore. Ugh.

Basically, what I'm saying is sorry.

I've missed you all SO much, and have been too busy/lazy/stressed to check this site, let alone finally send the notebook (six months in my hands. God help us), and now I'm back, vowing to update at the strangest hours in the night just so I can keep in touch.

Anywho.
How's life/love, girls?

AND, since this is kind of the whole 'write something' blog, I'll post some of my CreatWrit stuff from last semester. If you didn't know, I started online school - so I have full days at home now, kind of like you guys. Woot!

(By the way, totally started working on something the other day, and UGH. No guts! I hate it! And, I'm still pounding out a Clara post. No worries.)

---


It was 4:21 in the afternoon when it happened, on April 8th; a regular Saturday, nothing out of the incredibly dull ordinary until that point, and the only people who even noticed it were three teenagers, crammed into the over-cleaned, super-neat room of an OCD patient.

They weren’t doing anything; they certainly hadn’t been the ones to cause the happening. One girl and two guys; not even talking to each other in any apparent way - focusing on something else; oblivious to the others around them.

What had drawn the group together was the thing that kept them silent. It was what they were waiting on, some impatiently, some carelessly, but it was something that they couldn’t put a name, definition, or cause to.

The last time this had happened, it had been at 3:18 in the early morning, on April 8th of last year.

Every year this happened, and every year they would sit together in silence and wait. Sometimes it required them to ditch school, other times work, and others, vacations. However, for the sake of themselves, they had to give up whatever it was to be here. It was that important – the last person who had tried to do it alone had disappeared under special circumstances, stuck forever in the day that was April 8th.

All three participants had their eyes closed, waiting imperviously.

Moments and moments past, one just as good as a candidate as another; there was no telling the time – all predictability was gone.

But then, the light crashed into the room, blinding everyone.

Immediately, the girl, a curly-headed redhead, screamed out over the roar of the light to the others,

“FOUR TWENTY-ONE,” she shrieked.

Yet until the light had stopped shining, only a matter of seconds after it had first appeared, no one else spoke or moved, just cringed.

The atmosphere roared once in anguished protest.

And then, once again, all was quiet.

“Good afternoon,” a whimisical voice chimed from the middle of the awkward circle the teenager’s bodies had formed.

Then, and only then, did they move, open their eyes, or talk.

“What the hell, Gemma. You were supposed to something about the ‘body smacking rock’ thing when we left last time,” a tall, pale-skinned boy scowled, standing up awkwardly and scraping red dust off of his dark clothes.

“Hello to you, too, Theron,” she said bemusedly in her unnatural inflection, before turning away. “How are you holding up, Lora?”

The redhead looked nauseous, but nodded shakily.

Gemma then turned her attention to the remaining character, a boy that looked to be around her own age, with blonde hair and tired-looking eyes.

“Kyntak,” she said, nodding in his direction, “nice to see you.”

He nodded once in return before moving over to check with Lora.

This world, the red dust covering the red rocks, dark sky overhead, the screeching sounds of the earth moving and grinding against each other, was the second plane – some kind of alternate world just a few meters above their own, but invisible, and only appearing to those it chose.

The entire plane made Lora slightly sick all the time, but she was more time and space sensitive – something that Gemma understood, being a resident of that plane. Theron was somewhat of a troubled child, but every dream he’d had since the age of three had revolved around this place. Like the others, when he turned twelve, he had experienced his first April 8th.


-


Yay, over.
Um.

Lauren's Writing Twitter.  (You should get one. And follow her. They're kind of fun.)

and

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Peices of nano, and a poem

I've been lazy lately, now Katie's post has prompted me to actually post something. So here's the first chapter of my nano.
After I finished my novel and read the whole thing, I realized something very important-- I didn't like my Main Character. She's flat and kind of annoying and completely boring, and I have no idea who she is. So I decided to rewrite my nano with a different MC, and lots of changes. So the second first chapter I'm posting is in a modern world but with magic, and as you'll see, her mother's still alive and she has lots of siblings.
So what I want to know is, which do you like better? Which world do you think works with the story better? And also, do you think the whole leaving home thing is overdone?

Chapter One
I gazed up at the sky, my smile growing till I felt like it would tip me over. The sky was blue; the blue that made you want to run and run and laugh forever. I looked around-- there was no one with me on this big open field. Behind me I could see trees but they were just blurs on the horizon. I smiled again and ran.
The moon burned
The sun fell
A sea of black
Turned the land to flame.
The ground moved strangely fast under my feet, it felt like I was jogging but the grass raced by dizzyingly. I ran and ran-- the scenery changed--
Breathe in
Don’t die
The world will end
Before your eyes
I was running high on the mountains, looking down over a valley. It was filled with a city, crowned with a castle. All around the castle swarmed angry men-- the castle was under attack?
The terror grew
Chaos reigned
The skies wept
And then a savior came
Then I was on the field again, but the field had changed. Now the grass was trampled and torn, around me people called out for help. Stained and terrified faces flew past me but I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t stop running. And then I caught a glimpse of my Father, more terrified than I’d ever seen him. “Sophina!“ he called to me but I was gone before it approached--

My eyes flew open, blinking in the dark. It was pitch black outside, it couldn’t be morning… I breathed heavily and tried to remember what had woken me. It seemed like I had dreamed…
Shaking my head, I crept out of bed and into the kitchen. There was no need to feel so uneasy. But that dream… had that been Riggaere I was seeing? Why would anybody be attacking the capital? And why was that old nursery rhyme in my dream?
“Sophina? Are you all right?” I turned, Father was standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Oh yes,” I said, trying to ignore my sudden relief at seeing him. “I just had a strange dream that woke me up.”
“All right.” He sat at the kitchen table as I put some water on to boil. “You having hot chocolate?”
“You know me,” I said, matching his grin.
“You’ll never get to sleep after that.”
“Oh well.” I wasn’t very anxious to sleep-- and dream-- any more tonight.
“I might as well get to work,” he checked his pocket watch and shrugged. “It isn’t that much earlier than usual, for recently.”
“Have you been busy lately?”
“Incredibly so. There’s all kinds of propaganda being spread around, about the King‘s coronation.” He got up and kissed the top of my head, trying to get rid of his frown but not quite succeeding.
“See you tonight,” I said as he unlocked the adjoining door to the printers shop.
“See you,” he said with his regular grin and was gone.
That brought back the image from my dream. Father had looked so -- afraid. He never looked scared. And what had been coming towards him? I hadn’t seen it, but I knew it was terrifying from the looks on everyone’s faces. They were all petrified. What would reduce an army-- and they were an army, I don’t know how I knew-- to that?

Classes passed in a blur, spring fever had gotten into everyone and they couldn’t wait to be let out.
“I can’t believe it’s June already!” Kalla giggled as we walked home together. “One more week! Aren’t you excited, Sophie?”
“Of course,” I said, on reflex. I hadn’t really heard what she said. We were passing by the bazaar, past the magic displaying section. I always liked to look at the different things. It was all nonsense of course-- you couldn’t sell magic. But today, this normally quiet section of the market place was filled with people. I couldn’t see the magic stalls past all of them.
“Why are they all here?” I wondered aloud, trying to peer past them.
“I don’t know,” Kalla said. “Come on, Sophie.”
“You go on,” I said, not able to ignore my curiosity.
“Oh go find out then,” Kalla said sighing dramatically and smiling wryly. I flashed a grin at her and started winding my way through people.
I was small for my age-- and it was a good thing too, because the bazaar was packed. I could barely squeezed my way between people, apologizing the whole time, but finally I got to the front edge of the crowd and could see.
The entire magic section was gone. Standing in the middle of the desolately empty space was the owners of the stalls, looking around in shock.
“What happened?” someone called out from the crowd.
“Where did it all go?” I heard one of the magic sellers whisper.
My own mouth was open with surprise as I stared at the nothing. What had happened? No one person, or even a group could have stolen it all. It had been there the night before. The owners of the magic stalls were devastated, I could see that clearly. I knew most of them by name, the rest by face at least. They were all friendly and nice… what would they do now?
“Excuse me, excuse me please,” I turned around, someone was making his way through the crowd. The crowd immediately parted for him, he was escorted by guards. I watched as he stepped out into the open.
“I have a message from the King,” he announced, unrolling a piece of paper. He was a King’s messenger, that was plain to see. His clothes were fancy and they were all blue and green and gold, the kingdoms colors.
“My Good People,” the messenger started reading. “By now you will have noticed the absence of the magic section in the Bazaar. Do not be alarmed. I have ordered it; it is all for the good of this land.”
“How so?” One of the magic sellers demanded. The messenger cleared his throat and continued reading
“I, the King, believe that magic is dangerous, especially in the wrong hands. How dangerous then is the practice of selling magic! Anyone who wishes it could buy some and do harmful things with it. Therefore I am making a new law-- that it is unlawful to sell magic. Only in magic schools and for the defense of this country will magic be used.” There was a general angry murmuring from the crowd at that. Magic was as good as being outlawed! What would happen to everyone who made their living by magic?
“The owners of the magic stalls will be compensated for the things they lost,” the messenger continued, ignoring the crowds mutterings. “I advise them to seek a new profession, or to set up an appointment with me about the job of monitoring and protecting this country with magic. Thank you, my people for your understanding.
Signed, Jalen Rossio the second, King.” the messenger finished.
“That’s not fair!” “I demand more of an explanation!” “How do you expect us all to get jobs?” The owners of the stalls, before mute in shock, were suddenly alive and angry. They shouted at the messenger as he calmly tacked the message from the King onto a bulletin board and started walking away, surrounded by the Kings guards.
I squeezed my way through everyone before the crowd started getting rowdy and sat with a sigh next to Kalla. “Did you hear that?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she was unusually quiet, her eyes big with surprise. “Why would he do that?” she asked at last.
“You heard him,” I said. “He thinks magic is dangerous.” Which, I supposed, it could be-- but who would go to the bazaar and buy magic to do something bad with? It was only the evil wizards who were dangerous, normal people couldn’t use magic even if they wanted to. The stalls were mostly selling amulets and medicine anyways.
“I don’t think the King is going to be very popular,” Kalla mused. I shook my head in agreement-- no one would much like him after this. But maybe he’d prove himself to be all right, he‘d been perfectly nice and popular while he was a prince. It was only two weeks ago that the old King had died and Jalen Rossio the second had taken the throne. I thought back to Father saying that there was lots of propaganda being spread around. Could it be propaganda against the King? Were there more happenings we hadn’t heard of?
“Come on, lets go,” the crowd was dissipating, everyone going off home to rant to all their friends about it. The whole city would know by the next day. Kalla and I rose and walked home in silence.
Everything about that whole day was still bothering me when I got home. The dream-- the announcement-- there was nothing for it. I had to make some hot chocolate and curl up with a book in our library.
Library was a bit of a grand name for it I guess, there were only three book cases in there after all. But for most of the people in the city, that was a library. Father loved books and had collected them all his life. Two shelves were mine-- accumulated through holidays and birthdays and spare money.
By four o’clock I was lost in another whole world, which was exactly what I wanted. My hot chocolate was long since gone but I read on, slowly. I had read almost all of the books in the third book case and I wanted to savor every word.
“Sophina!” I recognized the voice of our neighbor Perlia, she was knocking on our door and calling my name.
“Coming!” I shouted back, putting down the book and running to the door.
“Hello Sophina!” She said. “Have you heard?”
“About the announcement?” I guessed, Perlia shook her head yes. “Yes I have. It’s ridiculous.“
“That’s what everyone thinks,” Perlia said as she came in and we sat at the table. “It must have been for a good reason, though.”
“Some other reason than he said, maybe,” I said. “I can’t see much sense in that one.”
“What are all those magic sellers going to do for a living now?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
“Father said there was lots of propaganda being spread around,” I said. Perlia read every newspaper there was, she could tell me better than anyone. “Have you seen any?”
“Oh yes,” Perlia said. “Lots of rumors. People say Jalen Rossio isn’t acting the same since he was crowned King.”
“He never caused any trouble before his Father died,” I murmured. I never heard anything bad about him then, he was just our prince who was growing up to be a fine young man. That’s what everyone said, at least.
“Not a bit of trouble then,” she said. “I hope the power isn’t going to his head.”
“His advisors won’t let him do anything out of line,” I said, more confidently than I felt. “He’s only twenty one, he’d have to check with them before he did anything. Wouldn’t he?”
“They say he ordered his personal servants to dismantle the whole magic section in the dead of the night, without telling or asking anybody beforehand,” Perlia said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She was acting like this was just another juicy gossip secret, but I could see that she was worried. There were frown lines in her forehead even when she smiled.
“Hmmm,” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. With rumors like that flying every which way, who could tell what was the truth?
“I’d better go,” Perlia said soon after that. We said our goodbyes and she hurried away, probably to make sure all our neighbors had heard the news.
I was left to myself, I didn’t know what to think and my head was whirring with new information. I disappeared behind my book again and let the complicated world worry for itself.





Chapter One
Tyra stood slouched at the railing, frowning as she looked out at the trees. The very tops were pale pink, naked winter branches glimmered as the sun gently brushed dew away. She watched more and more of the trees come to light. Shadows slowly disappeared as the sun rose.
"Tyra?" Tyra turned at the high pitched voice, Macie stood in the doorway yawning. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Watching the sun rise," Tyra said, turning away again. "Could you sleep?"
"No." Macie shivered, trying to wrap her arms around herself. There was silence and Tyra could hear sounds in the house. Floor boards creaked, unintelligible whispers came from the parent's bedroom.
"I wonder if they could sleep," Tyra muttered.
"Don't be mad at them," Macie said stepping forward to the rail. "That won't get you anywhere."
"Sometimes I think you're the older sister of us two," Tyra said and grinned, looking down at Macie's messy light brown hair.
"Oh yes I'm much more responsible than you," Macie laughed. There was a clatter of noise from inside the house and both girls turned as Asher and Quinn tumbled into sight.
"Hello there," Asher said and straightened up. Quinn groaned and sat up, blinking lazily.
"Now they," Tyra confided to Macie in a loud whisper "Always act their age."
"I don't appreciate that," Quinn said grumpily. "We'll both be thirteen in two weeks you know!"
"Lord help us," Macie said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she tried not to laugh.
"He will have to," Asher insisted. "Once we get to our new house-- there's unlimited possibilities."
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them," Tyra told Macie. Both boys looked away, trying not to laugh. "What have you got planned this time?" Tyra asked, folding her arms. "Snakes over the doorway? A bucket of milk?"
"No no, we've done those already," Quinn waved them aside. Tyra raised an eyebrow.
"Everyone up?" Vera appeared in the doorway, already dressed and hair combed. 'How does she do it?' Tyra wondered for the seventeen hundredth time.
"Hi mum," They all chorused together.
"Hello darlings. Everyone packed?" There was silence as Asher Quinn and Macie reverted quickly to their angel faces. Tyra didn't bother. "I thought I told you to finish packing last night," Vera said in her deceptively calm voice. "Did you not hear me?"
"We heard you," Tyra said, her and her mother's eyes meeting. 'There should be a clap of thunder or something,' Tyra thought mildly as her mother's face turned to stone. 'Or at least lightening shooting between our eyes.'
"Room. Now. Pack." Vera said, her voice too firm to be ignored this time. "You too Macie-- don't follow your sister's example. Asher and Quinn I'll supervise your packing."
Asher and Quinn shuffled dejectedly into the house, followed by Vera. "We'd better go pack," Macie mumbled, moving for the door. "We should have done it ages ago."
"I wish she'd just, for once, consider what I have to say," Tyra growled, thudding up the stairs. Macie was silent and started packing, quickly moving folded clothes into a box. Tyra sighed and dumped her shirts into a waiting bag.
"Tyra, fold your clothes," a commanding voice came through the walls. Tyra stiffened and made a face, then breathed very deeply for a few moments.
"Let me guess," Macie whispered, trying not to laugh. "You're wishing Mum weren't a sorceress too, aren't you?"
Tyra nodded shortly and glared at her clothes. Then, with controlled movements that showed she was extremely annoyed, she started repacking her bag.
"Tyra? Macie?" There was a knock on the door, Tyra opened it and couldn't help smiling.
"Hello Dad," she said as he came into the room and set down two plates of blueberry pancakes.
"Thought you might want some breakfast," he said, straightening up, his big face slightly red. "Didn't figure you'd have enough time to make it yourself."
"Thanks Dad!" Macie threw her arms around him. "Can you make supper too?"
"We'll still be on the way to Riggaere at suppertime at this rate," Jorj said smiling. "Am I really that much of a better cook than mum?"
"Definitely," Tyra grinned and reached for a fork.
"Finish packing first," Jorj said, his face unhappy as she scowled. "It'll be for the best, alright?"
"Right." Tyra turned back to her closet and commenced hurling clothes into the bag. Jorj patted her on the head and left quietly. Macie went after him to ask something and Tyra pulled down her old stuffed bear, hugging him tightly.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Brownie," She murmured into him. "Sorry about that. Are you going to tell me that with a new school, new scary people to try to be friends with, a new house, and a new city to get lost in, everything's going to be alright?" Brownie didn't answer and his head fell backwards, his big glassy glass eyes stared at her solemnly.
"What am I doing?" Tyra asked the air. "Talking to a stuffed animal. What will I do next, start thinking my dreams are real?" She shook her head and stuffed Brownie into the bag. She hadn't had a good dream last night, in the little time she slept. She hardly remembered it but she still had this lasting impression that someone had died.
They were ready to go within the hour; Tyra suspected that Vera had sped the process up some with magic. She wished she wouldn't. She wanted to spend every moment in their big, comforting house that she could.
It looked strange now, stripped of most of it's furniture and all it's pictures. Noise echoed off it's walls, Asher and Quinn being loud and the parents moving everything to the car. Tyra helped but her mind was in a cocoon of memories, memories were jumbled and blurred together in the house, piled in every corner. 'I'll forget them,' Tyra thought wistfully as she stood looking into her empty room. 'I don't want to forget fifteen years of ordinary memories, but I will.'
"Tyra," Macie said from the hallway. "We're all packed up."
"Alright," Tyra sighed, Macie came to stand beside her in the doorway.
"I'll miss the view," Macie said absentmindedly, walking forward to the window and staring out. Tyra folded her arms and tried to ignore the ache in her chest.
"Hey Tyra!" Someone yelled from outside, a grin broke out on her face as Tyra ran to look out the window.
"What are you doing here, Jagger?" Tyra yelled down at the boy smiling up at her. "We said goodbye yesterday."
"That was yesterday," He shrugged and laughed at himself, squinting at the sun behind the house. "How are you doing?"
"Okay." Tyra sighed again and looked out along the dirt road, brown against the glittering snow. "I can't believe we're leaving. Aren't you cold?" She looked back at Jagger abruptly, trying to push the thought of leaving away.
"Not much," Jagger said, his tightly folded arms belying his words. "It wouldn't be me if I didn't wear short sleeves." Tyra laughed and shook her head at him.
"TYRA!! MACIE!" A voice bellowed up the stairs, Tyra looked in its direction and frowned. Macie made a face, she pulled away from the other window and slowly started walking across the empty room.
"I have to go," Tyra said to Jagger reluctantly. There was something stuck in her throat and she looked back into the room, morning light played over the aqua-marine walls. She'd miss those walls.
"Tyra!" There was another shout from outside and Fina ran into the yard, her breath coming fast. "I ran," she gasped, bending over, "The whole way."
"I'll be there in a minute!" Tyra shouted and pounded down the stairs, her house flying by her as she raced outside. What was a house compared to friends?
"Sofina!" Tyra burst outside and hugged Fina, almost toppling both of them in the snow.
"I slept through my alarm," Fina explained as they regained their balance, laughing.
"We have to go Tyra," Vera said, from inside the car. It was all packed up and everyone was inside.
"One minute," Tyra told her mom, then turned to her friends.
"You'll be fine," Jagger said, grinning at her. "You always are."
"I'll write every week," Fina said through watery eyes. "You'd better, too."
"You'll have to teach Fina how to climb trees," Tyra said to Jagger, smiling at the face Fina made. "I'll write," she told her.
And then she had to leave, looking backwards the whole time and waving to her friends. She didn't cry because she never cried, but there was a burning behind her eyes as she left her world-- her life-- behind.



And now a poem, just because. :D

Words shimmer as
they dance
by the fire on a cold,
cold night
Darkness creeps in
turns the air
to ice
Come closer
to the leaping flames
crackling red and
glowing gold
watch them
twist and turn
they thaw your hands
that pour out words
glimmering
like frosty stars
just within
your reach.


Love,
Kelia

Just to Prove....

That despite all my homework I still have too much time on my hands in some shape or form....I decided to inform you all that we are nearing W.R.'s 1/2 3 year anniversery. Of course that depends on how you count it. If you go from Oct '08 through to until Sept '09 the 27th of next month will be half-way until W.R.'s anniversary. Now, if you want to get technical the 1/2 anniversary probably doesn't really occur until sometime in April-begining of Mayish. [But shh! We won't tell anybody.]

So. Yeah. That's all I felt like pointing out. Happy soon-to-be-half-way-anniversary!

//:// Edit //://

I suppose that if I am going to come on here and post the least I can do is include some of my writing! So, here we go I'll give you this poem-thing I had to write for my Poetry Anthology in school. Our process of writing it was this: First, we had to write a "journal entry" dealing with our Anthology theme [love in my case]. After we wrote the entry we disected it, putting it into seperate lines based on where you took pauses, etc... Once we finished that task we took out the unnecessary wordsand left only enough so the reader would still understand the poem [which was difficult for me!].

Anyway, this is the outcome - feel free to comment my fellow writers :)

Nothing but Wonderful

Love,

A special thing,

Should be cherished.

Should be held,

Close and dear.

Not constricted,

Like a mouse,

Cornered by a Python,

That it slips away...

Lack of love...

A hateful invitation.

Abundance of love...

Nothing but wonderful.

Why then...

Is love so often,

Disposed of like clothing,

We can just find,

And change,

Any other day?

© Katherine LaGassie February 2009

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Are you all keeping up with your writing????;] :P

Sometime After Dawn...

The Breaking of the Fellowship

Sleep had been restless. She must have been up off and on throughout the night so the light of day was not welcoming to her sleep withdrawn body. The sound of heavy footsteps filled her ears. “Come on.” Gimli spoke gruffly, tapping her leg with the blunt edge of his axe.

She barely moved. Tiredness had consumed her and was now winning the battle she was fighting with it. She felt so weak and sick as well; which helped nothing.

Again he tapped her leg, this time with a bit more force. “Lenia.” His voice was as gruff as before only this time it was interrupted. “Gimli,” Aragorn spoke hushed, “leave her be…she needs her rest.”

“And the rest of us don’t?” He scoffed.

“M’awake.” Lenia’s words were slurred as she moved her head. Aragorn crouched and placed his hands on her feet, giving them a gentle shake. “Morning,” He whispered to her. It was only when she opened her eyes that she comprehended the time of morning it was.

The sun was high in the sky, shining intently on the forest edges around them. It was hot; the area had, had time to warm. Most of all, by the fact that most everything was packed up, she knew the others had been awake for some time.

Lenia attempted to wipe all tiredness from her eyes, “You didn’t.” She hissed groggily at him. However, Aragorn just gently patted her feet again, “You were exhausted, Lenia. I wasn’t about to disturb your sleep.” Worry showed on his face, “You need it.”

At the sight of his worry Lenia shot up, throwing away all feelings of being tired. “I’m just as able bodied as everyone else here to get up before the sun.” She stated, their eyes locked and equal stubbornness battled – neither winning.

Deeply he sighed and stood up himself. “Just be careful, alright?” He told her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t look well and it…well after last night I…” Her mentor’s voice trailed off as he struggled for words.

In attempt to ease his worry Lenia shook her head, “Think nothing of what I said last night.” She unhooked a container from her belt, unscrewed the cap and took a swig. “See?” She told him, smiling broadly. “Better all ready.” With that she attached it back onto her belt. Of course she forgot to mention to him what happened when she ran out of that herb. That, she figured, was better left unspoken for the time being.

Aragorn looked at her, his eyes burying deep into her own. He didn’t believe her, that was obvious, and this would not be the end of their conversation. However, they needed to move on; their pace could not be let up. Moving past her he told her, “We’ll talk later.” His voice was curt and protective, the tone of an elder brother or a father – she knew that tone well.

A quiet “Whatever you say, Strider” was her response as she gathered her things in quick time. The thought of food was not appealing to her but for Aragorn’s sake she took a few things of bacon while entertaining the hobbits at the same time.

“You slept late,” Legolas commented as she helped him put their things back on the boats. “I was tired.” She spoke simply giving him barely a glance. It was a colder gesture than which she wished to give him but it was better than the true explanation. There was a silence that proceeded that comment, one where Lenia could tell he was staring down her back trying to decipher the sudden change in her normally cheerful mood. “I’m fine-” She began, turning around only to find him directly behind her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, every doubt that should have been emitting from him was. Lying and deceit were two things Lenia hated and there she was, staring them right in the face. Giving him a faint, half hearted smile she placed her hand softly on his cheek. “I’ll be alright.” She chose her words carefully. “I’m just feeling a bit off, that’s all.” Twisting your words wasn’t lying was it? Changing things so you didn’t have to lie or speak of what was truly wrong. Course not.

Lowering her hand with care she turned back to the boats. The silence that lingered was bitter, she hated keeping these things from him, from all of them, but it was necessary. Solemn eyes turned back over her shoulder to peer at him. Long golden hair was flowing in the wind, face expressionless as he pilled the objects into their boats. He turned and looked at her, eyes meeting only for a moment. “All set!” Lenia spoke abruptly, turning her head to break the gaze. ‘He mustn’t get a good look at me.’ She knew that if he did he’d know things were worse than she was letting on and then he would worry. He’d worry about something that he had no control over and there was no sense in that.

In silence the group continued on, speaking not a word to one another. Tension was high, as well as weary.

“The Argonath” Aragorn’s sudden voice made Lenia’s cloaked head turn, her gaze turning from the dangered shorelines to the statues looming overhead. “Long have I desire to look upon the kinds of old.” Her eyes traveled back to Aragorn, meeting his, noticing the nearly grim look upon his face as he spoke the words, “My kin.”

“Be not grim,” Elvin words felt sweet upon her tongue, “Your destiny lies with them but it so much different. You will not sway.” He spoke nothing but looked at her, lost for words for a few moments and then deciding not to verbal disagree although he did. “How little faith you hold within your self.” She concluded, not even Legolas understanding the strange form of Elvin tongue she was speaking. Knowing full well she wouldn’t get anywhere with her mentor she turned back to the statues, back to the large majestic sculptures that raised hundreds of feet above your head. From where their heads stopped you’d think they were touching the heavens. Beyond them was a great pool of water, ending in a waterfall, surrounded by forest.

Vibrations.

Running through her body were vibrations, feelings of hundreds of feet running across the ground. Her eyes turned, loud screeches reaching her ears, sounds that were far too familiar to her. The sound was of Orc-kind or more specifically, Urak-hai, as best she could tell from the pitch of the sound. A chill ran up her spine as she envisioned the cursed creature’s faces. ‘Don’t let them meet us.’ She prayed to the God’s, though she had a bad feeling the worst was yet to be upon them.

The sound of rushing water was calming as they landed the ships, but not calming enough. A dreaded feeling still lingered in her gut. ‘Something’s not right.’ She told herself as her narrowed eyes traced the shoreline with care. Tearing her eyes from the shore she looked down at the ring bearer. “Come here, Frodo.” Lenia said, gingerly stepping from the boat. The hobbits may have been several years her senior but to her they were still yet children. She extended her hands outward and helped him to shore. “Stay close,” She whispered to him, resting her hands upon his shoulders. “Do not stray, Heaven’s only knows what rests in this wood.” Reluctantly she dropped her hands from his shoulders, despite her wish to keep them there permanently. ‘Gods protect him’ Lenia thought, closing her eyes for a moment. Harder vibrations. Why so hard? Why so fast?

“We cross the lake at nightfall,” Aragorn’s arms thrusting something into her own arms broke Lenia’s thoughts. Her eyes glanced down at the object, some form of a sleeping bag. Trudging up the sandy embankment she placed it by the fire. “Hide the boats and continue on foot.” As she stood she looked over at Legolas, his demeanor was odd as he was staring straight into the thick of the forest. It nearly seemed that he was paying no attention to Aragorn’s words at all. “We approach Mordor from the North.”

“Oh yes?” Gimli scoffed. Lenia nearly swore as she turned around, staring at the dwarf. “Don’t you even start-” She warned him but no, he continued. “Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Mul…an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better. Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see...”

Lenia cocked an eyebrow before looking over at Aragorn, who returned her look before facing Gimli, no emotion on his face, “That is our road.” However, as he turned to walk past Lenia, he sent his apprentice a grin. Giving him a curt nod she looked over at Gimli, crossing her arms. “You rattle your mouth off as if it’s some soft of game. Perhaps if you learned to hold your tongue things would fall better in your favor, Master Dwarf.”

“Well she-elf I-”

“I suggest,” Aragorn spoke, butting into to the conversation suddenly, “You take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf.” His comment made Lenia grin, but not as much as Gimli’s reaction. “Recover my-” Anger filled his face and he sat down with a huff.

“Thank you.” She whispered, stepping beside her mentor and falling in step with him.

Aragorn glanced at Lenia, stopping to examine his dagger carefully. “For what?” He spoke innocently as if he had no clue. Once more his eyes looked down at her, giving her as blank of an expression as he could manage.

Accusingly she glanced at him, eyes narrowing into knowing slits. “You know exactly what I speak of, Strider.” Was all her voice purred in a soft but firm voice. The act was enough to get her message across. Aragon’s eyes sparkled at her, enjoying the look that crossed his apprentice’s face. “You’re welcome.”

Suddenly Legolas stirred from his frozen state, walking quickly towards the two rangers. His movement nearly startled Lenia as he had been so stiff and unaware of the world around him before. Upon reaching them he stared at the both, eyes widen circles. “We should leave, now.”

Aragorn shook his head at his old friend, “No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore; we must wait for the cover of darkness.” To this Legolas turned and faced the depths of the forest again. Lenia looked between the two men, resisting the urge to reach out and grab Legolas’ arm, his behavior was worrying her.

“It is not the eastern shore that worries me,” He spoke suddenly, eyes passing along the bark of each tree with intense care. “A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it.” As he finished Lenia slowly ran her eyes along the contours of his face, frozen in time despite his age. He did not look at her, though she was sure he knew she was looking at him as she was sure he knew Aragorn was as well.

There was a silence, an intense silence where Aragorn was processing his friend’s words. Lenia allowed herself to glance at Aragorn, only to find his eyes thoughtful. “I’ve felt it too,” She spoke softly, looking back at Aragorn. Whether or not it helped Aragorn’s thoughts she was unsure, but it snapped both he and Legolas from their trances’. Her mouth was about to open when a question arose that stopped her heart from beating.

“Where’s Frodo?”

The question struck a sudden panic through the young ranger. Immediately Lenia looked at Aragorn, rapping her small hand around what she could of his upper arm, “It’s not safe…he shouldn’t be alone.” Strider’s eyes were moving quickly, surveying the area around them, gears within his mind visibly moving. “Boromir’s gone.” He announced suddenly. Lenia released Aragorn’s arm, staggering back a bit - she didn’t like the sound of that, not at all.

Her mentor looked at Legolas, and then at the woods before finally resting his eyes on her. Locking his eyes on her own he leaned in close, “Can you pin point them?” He asked her.

There was a moments paused where she contemplated the question. Could she? To be truthful, she was not completely sure; she had only done tracking a few times in her life time. Still though, she looked at him, putting on an air of confidence. “Trails clean enough.” Grabbing her arm within his large, rough hand Aragorn commanded the rest of the party to stay at camp while they ran to Frodo. Lenia wasn’t even sure the rest had time to realize they were gone he moved so fast. “Aragorn,” She told him, forcing him to stop a moment. He turned to look at her, looking rushed but giving her his undivided attention. “Sometimes after us, and I don’t just mean the eye. Something’s come in full force at us….at Frodo. What ever it is…Legolas sensed it too – and it’s not pleasant. I would have told you earlier but…I don’t know…I was hoping it was all wrong.”

Aragorn looked at her, nodding softly. “It’s alright, Lenia.” He told her, tugging lightly on her arm, “Make it up to me now, and to him…find him.”

Without hesitation Lenia jerked her hand in the opposite direction, eyes glinting. Somehow she had a gut feeling she could not deny. “This way.” She instructed.

Their feet moved fast, only seeming to graze the top of the leaves beneath them as they ran. Not one crisp leaf crunched beneath their feet, or at least none that they could remember hearing. They had to find Frodo and Boromir, before it was too late. Her heart began to sink as they continued to run in the direction she had instructed, only to find them not coming upon any sign of Frodo or Boromir. “Aragorn,” She sighed, stopping in her tracks, “Strider, perhaps I-” In the middle of her sentence she stopped, eyes widening.

“Lenia?” Aragorn demanded, “Shadow?” He repeated but not even then did she respond. With a swift movement he was beside her, hand on her shoulder. “Masydi?” He shook her shoulders, “What is wrong?”

Lenia’s lips gaped, breath coming in with skipping beats. “He’s here.”

“Frodo?” Aragorn inquired but Lenia shook her head, eyes still wide. “It’s Sauron…he…” Her voice became quiet and her eyes distant. “Frodo put on the ring, Sauron can see him he-” She winced grabbing her head, knees buckling a bit. Clenching her teeth she braced her legs and stood straight, seeing through the fire and smoke that was encasing her vision. Her eyes became even more distant and she closed them, becoming as silent as stone. The way she was acting was beginning to worry Aragorn for her it was unusual behavior.

“He’s this way.” She spoke abruptly grabbing his arm, to get his attention before taking off at full speed “quickly!”

Frodo was on the ground when the found him. As best that Lenia could figure he had fallen when he was taking the ring off. She only thought this because after that point Sauron temporarily left her own brain and her vision cleared.

“Frodo?” Aragorn inquired, stepping out of the woods into the clearing.

Frodo scrambled to his feet, looking with wide eyes at one of the men who had sworn to protect him. “It has taken Boromir.” His voice, though stable, was laced with fright.

Panic seemed to rage through Aragorn from where Lenia stood. “Where is the ring?” He demanded, advancing towards Frodo while Lenia stayed back as a look out.

“Stay away!” Frodo cried, retreating from his advance almost before Aragorn began. The hobbit dashed unto the stone platform as far back as he could go.

“I swore to protect you” Lenia’s mentor told the hobbit, in an attempt to reason with him and show that he was of good nature.

“Can you protect me from yourself?” Frodo asked, opening his hand which held the ring. His eyes raised to meet those of Aragon’s, he was testing to see if he could truly trust the man before him. “Would you destroy it?”

Lenia watched from a distance as Aragorn stared at the ring. It called to him as it did her, an eerie reminder of a dangerous path – one that they all could fall in to. He knelt before the hobbit and enclosed his hand back around the ring, with his on top. “I would have gone with you to the end. Into the very fires of Mordor.”

“I know.” Frodo whispered, meeting eyes with the man who had sworn to protect him. As best as he could he looked over Aragorn’s shoulder at Lenia who had at one time been standing away from them. Now, though, she was approaching them. As Aragorn did she knelt beside Frodo, but did not dare touch the ring or hands surrounding it. “You saw him aswell, didn’t you?” He asked.

Lightly she nodded, meeting his eyes, “I did. I was there, with you.” Lenia whispered, slowly outstretching a shaking hand to place it on top of both Aragorn and his. Sauron's voice was loud in her head, as if it was her own. He spoke to her about things she wished not to here and tried his hardest to bring her to her falling. Once more she rose her eyes to meet his. “We have an understanding, you and I, Frodo. I know the burden you bare as I feel it too.” Softly she squeezed his hand. “And if I were given the chance I would stay with you and defend you every waking hour of the day. For that burden is not an easy one for any one person to bare, my friend.” He looked at her and smiled a bit himself. “You’d follow me as well.” He told her.

“Scared as hell the whole way, but I’d go with you into the fires of Mount Doom.” Standing she released his hand. “No matter how you ever feel, Frodo, you are not alone.” With that she lightly kissed his head and turned, to stand look out once more.

Frodo watched her for a few moments before looking back at Aragorn. “Look after the others. Especially Sam; he will not understand.” Aragorn nodded, silence taking over the area around them. His eyes met Frodo’s and he looked down at the hand enclosing the ring – what he saw next made his eyes widen. “Go, Frodo!” He unsheathed his sword. Sting was glowing.

As agile as a cat Lenia made her way onto the stone platform above the two men. Her blue eyes narrowed to pierce the wood, Elvin instincts taking over. From her quiver she pulled her bow and an arrow. “Aragorn!” She called, “We have company!”

“Run, Frodo, run!” Aragorn demanded, walking out to the side of platform just in time to meet the approaching Uruk-hai.

“A whole armies worth.” Lenia informed him, pulling back on the bowstring and releasing the arrow at impressive speed. The arrow hit the first Uruk-hai to exit the dense area of the forest square in-between the eyes. To that information her mentor held his sword in his hands with firm care and smirked softly, an insanity glowing from him that reminded her of her brother. “Well then, let the games begin.” With that he swung his mighty sword out at the approaching creatures.

Steady arrows flew from her bow, knocking down every target they hit. Still, though, the numbers never seemed to truly decline. Even as she loaded two or more arrows on at a time it never seemed to be enough to make their numbers shrink. The clanging sound of swords caused her to turn. Aragorn was making his way up the platform. In one quick motion she had replaced her bow and arrow with her long, deadly sword. “Find the Halfling!” She heard the leader cry several times as she spun the sword in her hand, sticking it through two Uruk-hai at the same time.

“Should one of us follow?” She whispered in a voice so low that no one but Aragorn would have been able to understand her. Crossing behind her mentor she glanced at him, beheading a few approaching Uruk-hai as well. “Not quite yet.” He told her before he jumped off the plat form. Rolling her eyes softly she swung her sword once more, the action sharp and swift even as it sliced through the murderous monsters. The sound of arrows below alerted her of Legolas and Gimli’s presence, that knowing brought some relief to her. Still, though she worried about the fact she was not aware of the hobbit’s coordinates. “They’re trying to head him off at the pass!” Lenia cried, looking over her shoulder at those below.

“Aragorn go!” Legolas told him, knocking down a few Uruk-hai himself with his arrows. Without having to be persuaded further Aragorn ran to stop the enemy from catching up to Frodo. How long could he hold them off by himself? She wondered. As she jumped from the platform she realized she had not been the only one to think of him. “Are you alright?” Legolas asked her on a passing. Softly Lenia chuckled, running ahead of him and looking over her shoulder for a split second. “You’re aims a bit off!” Reloading he shook his head, she was alright.

The sound of a horn made Lenia stop dead in her tracks, eyes widen a bit. “The horn of Gondor.” Legolas explained and Aragorn dashed forward, “Boromir.” By the time Aragorn had reached where Lenia had been standing she had cleared her way down the hill. Though she was less experienced than he was she was quicker on her feet and more agile because of her roots. She turned her head to look at him but he waved his sword at her. Keep going. A sharp pain struck her upper arm but she paid no attention to it. They arrived where Boromir was at nearly the same time, only Lenia a bit more. She froze, what she saw happening flashing before her eyes moments before it really happened. Her hands clenched to fists, eyes squeezed shut – if she could have she would have screamed. Not again.

Breathing in shaky breathes she turned to look over at her mentor. While Aragorn battled with the Uruk-hai she ran to Boromir’s side. “Boromir?” Lenia whispered falling down beside him. By some grace of the Gods he was still on two knees, gasping for breath that never seemed to come. Her hand reached out, to touch his shoulder, slowly helping him to the ground. His eyes met hers and she felt a chill run through her at the life-less look they held. “Lady Masydi?” He whispered back finally. Slowly Lenia nodded, swallowing hard. Boromir may not have been her favorite man, by any means, but never in her deepest thoughts had she wished this upon him. Softly he smiled, “I’m sorry,” He met her eyes once more and locked on them, for some strange reason Lenia could not look away.

“S-sorry?” Her voice cracked as her hand shook. She was thankful it was still on his shoulder for it had a steady support there. “Whatever are you sorry for?” She asked, be it any other moment she could have thought of loads of things for him to apologize for but now, it all seemed to be a blur.

“You flatter me.” He retorted, breathing in a painful breath. “I have a million things to apologize for…some that I have down myself and others…” Boromir paused looking up at her, “Others are wrongs my father has committed…I know that nothing can ever ease what has happened to your home, to your people or to your brother…however,” He looked at her, “I understand how you feel now, more than ever.”

Tears rimmed Lenia’s eyes and she took in a deep breath in attempt to steady herself. “You’re going to be okay.” She whispered to him, wrapping one of her hands around his and squeezing it. With the other she attempted to grow the herbs she knew she needed. Nothing. Her hands trembled, with anger or sadness she did not know. Feeling useless she ducked her head, collecting herself before looking at Boromir – who had never stopped looking at her. “You’re a good man, Boromir, both you and your brother…I would gladly fight beside you two any day in any war.” Her lip trembled, how much more she could take of sitting there, staring at a dying man she didn’t know.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” He asked her, “Frodo? Do you think he’ll end it all.”

“He has to,” She whispered, “otherwise all we love will die.” The words she spoke tasted bitter in her mouth. “You’re kingdom shall see brighter days, Steward of Gondor, I promise you that.” The next words she spoke shocked her even more, “I was not granted the name I was to sit around and just watch all that I love fall to ruin. My name is Lenia…Masydi…and not on your life will I go quietly while Sauron’s darkness tries to swallow us. They’ll have to destroy my spirit and slay me before I allow them to destroy anything else I or anyone else loves.” Softly she squeezed his hands. “I will not let Gondor fall to ruin, none of us will.”

His hand, though weak, squeezed hers as well, “Rhamdal will not fall either.” It wasn’t until then, when she really looked at him, that she noticed how pale he was. Until then she hadn’t noticed the paleness of his skin, or the blood now dripping from his lips. She reached a shaking hand up to clean it, silently cursing herself. Afterward she slid her hand beneath his neck, rubbing it softly.

Aragorn’s running footsteps caught her ear and she backed off, releasing Boromir’s hand and stepping aside. Her mentor fell beside Boromir, in the exact spot she had been. “They took the little ones.” Boromir told Aragorn the one bit of information he had not told her. More still her hands shook, her knees became like jello.

“Hold still.” Aragorn told Boromir as he tried to assess the damage. “I tried, Strider, I-” Lenia stopped, looking away as Aragorn looked at her. Her hands balled into fists. Casting her a strange look Aragorn turned back to Boromir. “Frodo, where is Frodo?” Boromir inquired voice full of panic. Lenia looked back at the two men, watching their conversation carefully. Making a decision she wasn’t even sure why she was making she made her way over to Boromir and sat by his head, placing her hands on either side.

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn whispered softly.

“Then you did what I could not.” Boromir told him, “I tried to take the Ring from him.” He looked from Aragorn, to Lenia and back.

“The Ring is beyond our reach now.”

“Forgive me.” The dying man whispered to her mentor, “I did not see it. I have failed you all.”

“No, Boromir.” Now it was both ranger’s protesting. “You fought bravely.” Aragorn took over, you have kept your honor.” Slowly, not moving his eyes from the dying man’s face he moved his hand to the arrows. Aragorn’s intentions were to rid him of them but Boromir yanked him back.

“Leave it.” He demanded, “It is over, the world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness…and my city to ruin.” As Lenia took an unsteady breath, watching Boromir panic over the fate of his people it made her heart burn. They, like she and Frodo, had a common like; a dying home and a dying people.

“I do not know what strength is in my blood...but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall…nor our people fail.”

“Our people.” Boromir gasped for a rugged breath, “Our people.” His hand out stretched to for his sword; he had given in to his chosen fate. Gingerly Aragorn picked up the sword and handed it to him, placing it in his hand. Boromir clenched it and placed his arm across his chest. “I would have followed you, my brother, my captain, my King.” As Boromir took his last breath and the light of life left his eyes Lenia gasped for breath, raising only one hand to her face to muffle the sound. Aragorn bowed his head and whispered a silent prayer, “Be at peace…son of Gondor.” He leaned up and kissed Boromir’s forehead. “They will look for his coming at the White Tower, but he will not return.” He stood, wiping the stray tears from his cheek to look down at his apprentice. She was staring down at the lifeless man, sobs wrecking her body and her hands trembling.

“Lenia…” He whispered, outstretching his arm for her to take. From what he could tell she was paralyzed, perhaps reliving the deaths she witnessed up until now in her mind or maybe over coming with emotion in general. However, she did not take his hand instead she shook her head, putting her forehead to Boromir’s and allowing her tears to fall upon his cold, white skin. Her hands balled into fists. “Lenia.” Aragorn whispered once more and this time she looked up at him with red eyes, “He’s at peace.”

At peace? She wanted to yell at him she just wanted to let all the anger she had inside overflow but she didn’t, not quite yet. 'How could any of them trully be at peace, ever?' She just looked up at her mentor with lethal eyes. “You don’t understand,” She hissed, forcing herself to her feet. It was not until then that she notice the wounds she head, including an arrow stuck into her bicep muscle. Her eyes glanced to it and her hand ripped it out, the pain killed but it felt good compared to the fire within her. Pushing past Aragorn she headed towards the shore, not even paying attention to Gimli or Legolas’ presence.

“Lenia?” This time it was Legolas, she could only imagine that he had followed her.

“I don’t want to talk.” She spoke curtly, pushing her way through the dense brush with her burning arm. “Just leave me be, Legolas, alright? Just leave me alone.” On her heel she turned to look at him, a defeated look in her eyes, “I don’t want to talk, if anything I want to fight – so for the sake of our relationship, Legolas. Leave me alone.”

“Then at least talk to, Aragorn, at least you two know each other well enough.” Legolas looked at her, “and something is obviously bothering you…”

“He sent you did he?” She snapped, “To scout me out, to make sure that I was alright?”

“Shadow, I would do nothing of the sort.” To her other side appeared Aragorn. “Leave us be, Legolas.” He said, “We’ll be back shortly.” Legolas looked between the two eyes settling on Lenia for a moment or two before turning and leaving them. Aragorn settled down on a rock, rolling up his sleeves. “Care to talk?”

“God, Aragorn, you and I are both pissed .”

“I’m upset.” He corrected, “You on the contrary,” He glanced up at her with his smoky eyes, “something has you wound up tighter than I’ve ever seen you and to be truthful it worries me.”

Lenia knelt down by the water, grabbing a large rock and chucking it across to the other embankment. “I saw it again, Aragorn. That makes, what, three deaths I could have stopped?" She turned to look at him, “But I didn’t, Aragorn. I have this damned name my parents gave me…this stupid so called fate, and I can’t even stop one of my visions from happening!” Shaking once more she walked towards him, picking up a stick. “All Tripton wanted me to do was make fire, Aragorn….if I had made fire he…” Her eyes watered dangerously. “And just now…with Boromir…I could’ve saved him, Aragorn – I know the herb…I can create it….but I couldn’t. For some unknown reason I couldn’t, Aragorn!” She cried, breaking the stick. “What am I supposed to be? Happy? My homes only hope is dead and I just promised a dying man I wouldn’t let Sauron win.” Her mentor was about to speak when she fell to the ground, utter exhaustion taking over. “He was sick, Aragorn.” Clouded blue eyes rose to meet the face of her mentor, “Tripton was so sick…he wouldn’t let anyone notice but…I could see it, in his eyes and the way his hands shook.” She held out her hands to examine her own, watching the way they trembled. Aragorn watched her, a solemn look in his own eyes when he thought of his friend. “He was so fevery and clammy, though he’d never show it….and so…so exhausted. None of the others knew it – not even mom and dad.”

Aragorn frowned, standing up and walking over to her, standing over her. “But the medicine…?”

“What medicine?” Lenia retorted without enthusiasm, from her belt she unhooked the pouch it rested in. “This?” She held the bag out to him. “This is all that’s left in my entire kingdom, Aragorn. Not even the hospital’s have anymore…nor my parents…and half of that…half of that is what Tripton gave me of his. He forced me to take it…I didn’t know at the time…When we left to come after you they gave us all that was left in the kingdom.” She stared absently ahead. “without that, Aragorn…between the poison in our water and food and Sauron’s magic…without Tripton there to be the gallant warrior to brave the dangers and bring back safe water and food….they’re dead.” Once more she looked at her mentor with worn eyes, “Do you see how I feel, Aragorn? I know what has to be done….but I’m too much of a coward to do so and not even my powers will work for me." Her mind raced as she looked to the side, the thought of being cowardly did not appeal to her anymore. "I’m not going to run off and cry in a corner every time something goes wrong, Aragorn…I can’t anymore.”

Aragorn eyed the pouch she had just waved in the air, “How much is left?” He asked, “How many months?” Lenia was silent, “If I were to take it everyday? About two months worth. If I only take it when I absolutely need it…I don’t know.” She raised her eyes to meet his and stood.

“And when it’s gone?”

“I try not to think about that.” There was a pause where the two stared at each other. “Aragorn, I don’t want to be treated differently, alright? I know you worry about me, that you feel you have to be Tripton, to fill his shoes, and I know that sometimes…I just loose it…but we are all having our problems right now and I just want to be treated like the rest of them. Alright?”

“You don’t know how hard that is,” Aragorn told her, resting his hand on her shoulder. “You aren’t like the rest of them. You’re different in so many ways….so many special ways. Like earlier…with Boromir. Who else could have reconciled with him but you?”

Softly Lenia smiled, placing her good arm on his shoulder, rubbing his neck with her hand. That was one question she did know the answer to, “You, King Elessar.”

They put Boromir in one the boats and sent him over the edge of the waterfall. It was the best they could give him of a proper send off. “Hurry, Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore!” Legolas rushed down to the boat that was left, only to turn back to look at Aragorn when he was given no response. “You mean not to follow them?” He inquired, though it was more of a statement.

“Frodo’s fate,” Aragorn breathed, staring out at the opposite shore, “Is no longer in our hands.”

“Then it has all been in vain. The fellowship has failed.” Gimli spoke, walking over to them. The three standing, Lenia, Legolas and Gimli, crowded around Aragorn who was the only one still seated. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then stood, walking over and standing before them. “Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death.” He looked at the three before him, placing his hands upon their shoulders. “Not while we have strength left." Softly he smiled, meeting eyes with each of the, lingering on his apprentices' for a few moments. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light.” He looked at them, slipping his dagger back into it’s case. “Let us hunt some Orc.”

A soft smile grazed Lenia’s lips, a look of mischief filled her eyes. “You heard the man.” She told the two beside her. “Let’s get moving – we have some Orc to hunt.” She grinned, the look reflecting that of her mentor and followed him up the embankment.

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever known who finds the mere thought of hunting Orc enjoyable.” Legolas informed her, quickening his pace to meet hers. Shrugging lightly Lenia looked at him, “Well, I’m also the only girl that has ever challenged you at bow and arrow shooting, and that has ever dared you to wear a necklace so then, I guess this should be of no surprise to you.” With that she grinned and continued to walk away, after her mentor.

“Hey you!” Legolas reached his hand out and took hold of her good arm. Giving a small surprised gasp Lenia pulled back towards the woodland Prince. Her eyelashes fluttered in shock. “Yes?” She asked, looking up at him.

The elder man put his fingers between her own, fitting her small hand in his like a puzzle piece. “I don’t know what’s been bothering you, or what’s wrong….or what is has to do with you…but you know that you can tell me, right? If you need to talk about anything, you can tell me, you know that right?” Softly Lenia smiled, “If I say no will you keep me here longer?” She whispered playfully. Deeply he sighed, “This wasn’t meant to be a playful moment, Lenia.” He teased, placing his forehead to hers.

“Oh, sorry,” She said, though she wasn’t really that sorry at all. “and just so you know, Legolas, I know I can trust you with anything. This…this is just something I think is best for you to not know, because if you knew it you’d worry excessively like Aragorn does, over something neither of you have any control over. This way I’m just saving you, see?” She smiled in her best attempt to sugar coat the situation.

“That doesn’t ease a lovers mind at all.” He sighed deeply and kissed her forehead, “But it is better than nothing I suppose.” Pulling back he ran his fingers down her hurt arm, watching the way she wince when he traced the area where the arrow had struck her. “Why don’t you sit down,” He suggested, “I can take care of that for you.”

“Oh?” She said in an impressed tone, “My, my, my, well now, Prince Greenleaf, you’re going to tend to my wounds? This doesn’t bring back memories at all.” Her tone was once more playful and light, though laced with sarcasm. “What are you going to do now? Are you going to monitor me every second and force me to lie down and-” Her sentence was interrupted but his lips capturing hers. “Just sit down already” He whispered. "Or I'll find a way to get, Aragorn on your case."

Sighing deeply Lenia sat on a rock. "You know, if he doesn't realize something's going on between us very soon, with you keeping doing that, he's the blindest man I've ever seen." Even though she made her best attempt to sound angry at him a small smile was on her face. She really didn't want him to stop.

Kneeling beside her Legolas took a piece of cloth from his bag and a bit of water from his belt. Wetting the cloth he cleaned the wound and then wrapped it to help stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Softly he smiled looking up at her and putting his things away. A mischevious look sparkled in his eyes, not one that you would expect to see, as he stood. "What thing?"

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!!!!!!!!! I cannot believe it's here already. I hope you have a great Christmas Eve and day, and a happy new year!

*sings silent night very loudly*
Kelia

'Tis the Season to Sing of Finals...

SO.
Finals have been going on, and lately, I've been working on my latest one - a ten page short story for my Creative Writing class. It's really rough, I'm not loving it at all, but...

It's a complete story.

THEREFORE,
you are required to suffer as it takes its rightful -ahem- place on the WR page. Bahahaha.

--------

There was a time before the sickness in which people called her Daylen. That was her birth name, the one given to her by her parents as the doctors demanded a name that could be put on a birth certificate, and the name that had driven her parents apart; they had agreed on naming her Beth Marie, after her father’s mother, but at the moment, pressured as her child struggled to hold life, her mother blurted out Daylen – a mixture of the city they were in with her own name, Helen.


Now, however, she was Day to most people. It hadn’t happened on purpose, but after recovering and being stuck in a hospital room for almost a year and a half, the nineteen-year-old was one of the brightest, most fascinating people anyone could ever hope to meet. Daylen wasn’t original enough for her being; therefore, people started calling her Day.

She was pretty enough, with blonde-almost-brunette hair, bright multi-colored streaks dyed into the curled mess, and curious hazel eyes that never stared, always moving about. Tall, though happily shorter than most of the people she dated, she lacked the awkward quality of someone just growing into their height, and had a blessedly proportional body. She wore what she felt, and at this point in time, it was her most holey sweats and the baggiest shirt she could find.

Day leaned over and threw up into the toilet again, spitting to get the remainder of the taste out of her mouth.

The phone, pushed away momentarily, was brought back up to her ear as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Yes… No, Mom… No… No, stop it, I’ll be fine…”

Helen babbled frantically on the other end of the line. Ever since The Sickness, she had been consistently concerned and over-cautious about Day’s health. It seemed stupid, in Day’s contrasting opinion, to go to the ER for a simple stomach flu.

“I know, I know. I promise… Yeah, Mom. I love you, too. See you on break.”

Helen murmured her concerned goodbyes and hung up. Day collapsed on the bathroom floor and sighed, leaning her head against the wall.

A low chuckle echoed through the bathroom. “Good morning, Daylight.”

“Shut up and go away,” she moaned. “I don’t even want to talk to you this morning.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Day saw Luke appear, as if out of nowhere, at the doorway. “Well, that’s too bad, love. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Luke was so-called living proof that Day was not just the bright and eccentric girl she seemed on the outside. He was one of the many reminders to her, and when she slipped up, others, of the insanity that had taken her over during her hospital time.

Luke was polite enough; he let her sleep and eat alone, knew when she needed her space, and was determined not to mention anything in his or her past. However, he was also consistently there – he couldn’t not be there. He was omnipresent in her life, and both of them knew that despite the secrets they may have tried, at one time, to keep private, there was nothing secret anymore.

“Luke…?”

“Yes?”

Day paused. This was going to be slightly awkward.

“I was wondering if maybe… Do you remember when Helen was diagnosed with cancer?”

“I do. Very, very well.”

“Do you remember the way you kept showing up when I told you I wanted to be alone?”

“Yes,” he said in his usually wary way, though his expression was almost light, “even if you weren’t grateful for my company at the time.”

She sighed. “I’m always grateful for your company. It’s just… I can’t get over…”

“It doesn’t matter; it’s okay,” he interrupted quickly, the slight smile he’d been trying to push evaporating just as quickly as it had appeared. “No worries.”

They sat there in silence for a minute, before Luke sat down beside her and patted her leg. “Anyway, what about it?”

Day positioned herself, facing him straight-on.

“Lucas, am I sick again?”

He frowned. “Daylen…”

“I know you can tell,” she sighed. “Every time something happens to me or to someone around me, you instantly show up everywhere, and are constantly in this oh-my-God-I-have-to-care-for-her kind of mode. You’re in one now. What’s going on?”

He looked at her blatantly. “I can’t care for you just because I love you?”

“Quit it, Luke. Tell the truth.”

He didn’t move for a minute, as if he were thinking the whole thing over – to tell her, or not to tell her; to let her in on his secret, or to keep her innocent and protected from his complex and complicated world?

The cold floor, or just the lost and distracted stare that Luke was directing at it, sent chills spiraling up Day’s arms.

Luke glanced up at her and cringed at the look on her face. In that moment, he knew that she was only asking in some form of politeness; that in reality, she knew exactly what he would say. She was looking for conformation in the most exact and precise format.

“It’s not… like that…” he ran his hand over his face and sighed, looking up at the ceiling, as if he had a chance of seeing God come down with some kind of answer for him to give the girl.

“Day, I can’t say exactly…”

“It’s back, then.”

“Yes… But I don’t know if it’s as bad, or as timid, or any kind of factor related to it. It could be a single cell or an entire artery...”

His pained expression made her ache, and she reached out for him, mid-sentence. Her arms met each other, and along with his dissipating voice, his eyes were instantly cautious and alert; concerned for her sanity, partially, but also curious as to why she would reach to him…

“Sorry,” Day breathed.

“I… I ought to go,” he said quickly, his voice quiet. The build-up, the impossibility, the millions upon millions of rogue feelings that were piling up in his chest at every move she made lately; all of it resulted in things that strained who he was trying to be and who he was meant to become.

Day watched the tile swirl slightly in front of her as he left, her eyes blurred in retained sadness.



It had almost been three years since Daylen lost Lucas, and a month less than that since she’d gotten him back again. Before he left, he’d been normal Lucas, which, at the time, was a nineteen-year-old neighbor kid that snuck out at night and partied until he couldn’t see straight, sneaking back into his house only when he could stay awake no longer. A drop-out, a rebel, and a failure, people labeled him, but the day he turned nineteen, as he was sitting on the porch of Ms. Kevenski’s condemned, paint-chipped house, a little girl discovered differently.

It was May the seventeenth; the time of year in Alabaster, Alabama where the grass grew tall and sharp, the weeds even taller, and flowers grew wild and unrestrained in random design across the yards of the old houses on the far side of town. Those were the days in which the hazy sunshine called to the children to live outside – the days in which it was impossible to call them back in.

Tabitha, who was twelve at the time, was one of those children.

Tabby was Day’s sister – her only and youngest. Three years separated them, and in the somewhat sweltering heat, remarkably early that year, Day sat out on the porch in her most grungy pair of shorts and a tattered tank top, with a pair of what was supposed to be chic sunglasses covering half of her face, making sure Tabby didn’t take her shoes off or run out in the street.

At fourteen-almost-fifteen-years-old, Day discovered Lucas Kevenski.

He didn’t notice her at first, staring at him from next door through the chain-link fence that divided their yards but she noticed him, and to be honest, was a little intrigued. All of the rumors and stories exchanged between women in the neighborhood, the way her father had warned her mother of letting Tabby or Day associate with him; everything piled up into one small fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old full of innocent curiosity.

So from her porch, a safe enough distance to avoid all contact with him, Day stared without shame. She watched him take a cigarette from his pocket and play with it aimlessly before lighting it and, never touching it to his lips, flicked it to the ground, letting it smolder there on the concrete.

He reached for another one, but found it difficult to fish out of the pocket of his jeans, so he turned towards the pocket…

Tabby screamed in excitement as one of her friends found her behind the mulberry bush. Almost instantly, Lucas raised his head in that direction, and made eye contact with a fat pair of sunglasses and a mouth open in awe.

He couldn’t help the smile that rose to the corner of his mouth before he waved partially, and looked back to the next cigarette in line for suicide burning.

Day was paralyzed with shock and horror, mingling with feelings on the edge of excitement. He had smiled, he had waved, and he wasn’t even smoking; this was the kind of guy she overheard her mother praying to help her with her children every night before bed, just much, much younger. Quiet, seemingly nice… Why would anyone want to avoid that?

The brave fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old Daylen worked up the courage, touched her toes together once for luck, and then proceeded to sneak over to Lucas’ yard.

The fence was somewhat of a challenge, but the three scrapes that were deep enough to scar proved to be worthwhile souvenirs when she crept up the back way, onto the porch, and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around with a surprised look glittering on his face, before he managed to smile again.

“Hi,” he said easily, in a curious English accent, patting the wood stair next to him. “My name’s Lucas.”

“I’m Daylen. But you can call me Day if you want to be my friend.”

His bubbling laughter was contagious.

She could still recall, years later, the way that he told her thank you for the birthday present, and how, twenty-eight days later, he had showed up at her door with flowers and a gift (a pair of even bigger sunglasses, with rhinestones glued to the edges), and invited her on a fifteenth-birthday picnic.

From that point on, the nineteen-year-old and the fifteen-year-old were best friends.



Day stretched and stood up, aching from the time spent against her bathroom wall already. On her way out, she flipped the switch and, subconsciously, placed her hand over her heart, as if checking to see if it was still actually there.

It was. The Sickness hadn’t taken all of it yet.

She hummed weakly to herself before collapsing onto her own bed and dissolving in tears.



If there were some way to have a breakdown in Heaven, Luke was sure that he would be the one to find the way to make it happen. The crying, the screaming, the blackouts and hallucinations, the breathlessness, the sweating and swearing; it seemed almost needed and crucial, especially in this last week – in this last day, even.

However, he could only sit there and exist. Breathe in, breathe out, apprehension etched across his essence, and the only thing he could do about it was think.

It disgusted him, but he knew it was somewhat of a reward. He couldn’t think negatively about himself if he couldn’t have a breakdown. In any case, he was just happy he wasn’t a true Angel, or else he might find himself without any kind of poignant or detestable emotion at all.

Then again, if he were an actual God-in-Heaven Angel, maybe he could help Day.

Day; he winced at the thought. The same little girl who’d brought him out of a living hell was being reduced to her own and he had done nothing but encourage it, then disappear while she suffocated on her own pain. He couldn’t help it, though; she was going to be the very thing that brought him down if he stayed.

He wanted to hit something hard.

Mostly, he was tempted to blame it on her. Day was stupidly unaware of how much it killed him every time she was upset or frustrated or angry or… or happy even. Happy dragged him down even more sometimes. Her smile and laugh made him ache almost as much as when she was crying and needed someone to lean on, just because, more often than not, he couldn’t be the reason for the expression.

As much as he denied it, he missed her more than life.

The woozy feeling of not being able to cope with his own feelings began to ebb and he became acutely aware of a soul close to him, watching him.

“Breaken,” he sighed.

She directed a happy feeling towards him. “Hello, Luke.”

He fought it off as much as he could, but he knew the effect was overpowering.

“What’s wrong?” Breaken’s voice chimed, sweet and melodious.

Luke felt himself try and scowl. Angel voices were always like honey and silk, even if it had formerly been a person who had actually cut their own throat out. It was just natural, that in Heaven, none of the supreme talked with any kind of lisp or deformity, just in the most beautiful tones possible. Even Luke’s voice had been affected, although he couldn’t hear the difference. Heaven had a strange way of working.

“You know what’s wrong,” Luke finally said softly, the only form of malice he could work up. “Daylen’s sick again, and I have to watch her die.”

Breaken was Luke’s best friend, as far as the ether world was concerned, and she knew all about Day. When Breaken had first been introduced to him, he was an awful wreck, wondering about this girl, and then, given the option to go be a Guardian for her or stick it out as a true Angel, she was there to moderate his emotions and stand by his side as he dove for the obvious choice. Now, she was his mentor and guide when he needed help. Lately, however, she had become more of a spectator.

She nodded at his frank admission. “You knew, though.”

“Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t make it any easier on anyone.”

Breaken emitted the most comforting feelings she could call up. “You have to encourage her, Luke. You have to let her know you’re there for her up until the end, and when she finds out that you can’t do anything about it…”

“She knows, though. She knows that I can’t do anything, and I’m pretty sure she knows that she wasn’t a candidate to have a Guardian just for nothing.”

Breaken radiated understanding. “I see.”

She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful almost, and the comfort began to recede from Luke, bringing back the resentful feelings slightly.

“Maybe…” she started distractedly, “maybe I could arrange something to be done. I mean, no guarantees, of course, and I’d have to get everything approved, but…” she moaned. “Maybe I could go down there and see what’s going on, anyway. Explain things, at least.”

Luke frowned, confused.

Breaken sent out regretful feeling. “If she’s going to have to learn her fate anyway, someone needs to be able to explain why it has to be this way.”

Luke missed the pain of the headache his human self would’ve developed by now, even with the calm and soothing feelings rushing over his sense.

“Anyway, I’ll have to throw the idea up with you-know-who and see how it goes. I feel almost illegal doing this without permission… at least, helping Daylen. It would take a lot to convince Him to let an Angel interfere in view of the fact that we haven’t done so since...”

“…Bible times. I know, I know. But really, Breaken,” Luke’s voice grew ecstatic, “if you could just meet her, that would be all it would take for you to know what you had to do. She’s so caring and sweet and she’s one of those people that…”

He carried on, adorning the human girl with words that could sometimes not even be used to describe the Heavens, unaware how intensely Breaken was aware of his true feelings; how she had stopped all sensation to him, and yet he was still elated beyond recognition.

“I only said maybe, Luke,” she reminded him.

“Well, of course, but…”

Breaken laughed her tinkling laugh, and was gone, leaving Luke with a last sensation that left him tired and contented.

The white abyss that enveloped him was comforting and silencing all at once.



Two weeks and three days later, after working three of the longest Receptionist hours she’d ever punched in her entire life, Day was back in a hospital room, the doctor telling her what she’d already known: yes, it was back, and yes, it was going to be a problem.

Three simple words: Coronary Artery Disease.

He told her that it wouldn’t be sane to estimate the effect or severity of it until more tests were run, and that until then, she should assume that she would be fine, and that it was just a false alarm.

“Sometimes, that’s just what these things are,” he said solemnly. “Only slight scares, nothing more.”

Luke made her promise that no matter what the doctor said, she would take a Taxi home that day, and for good reason. She didn’t cry, not in the hospital or in the Taxi, but the way she felt, like someone had just punched her hard in the stomach, wasn’t likely to help her coordinate her way home.

When she got home, she unlocked the door, swallowing once, and then stood in the doorframe, expressionless.

Luke was waiting for her on the couch.

He motioned for her to join him; to come sit down next to him. Seeing his face, though, in an almost torn state, caused her throat to ache and her heart to throb painfully.

“Daylight,” he whispered, his voice ridden with exhaustion. “Come here.”

She made it halfway across the room before she started to cry. Heaving sobs wracked through her entire body, causing her to trip in her heels, and only barely catch herself in the staggering wobble she was relying on to drive her across the floor.

He stood up as she lay down on the couch, her makeup smearing, hiccupping and wiping at her face. Luke got in between her and the couch on the opposite side, as if he could let her lean against him, although it wasn’t possible that he would ever feel her, or she feel him – one of the many Guardian rules that he had tried in every measure to prove untrue in every way possible.

She lay there and cried until her tears ran down raw and reddened paths on her cheeks. Aching moment upon aching moment they lay there, he in silence and she in resignation, the sadness in the room seeming to overpower both of them to the point of immobility.

Coronary Artery Disease… Coronary Artery Disease…

She had been through it all before, and though the effects would never be as bad as they once were, she had known that she would live with slight symptoms for the rest of her life. The aches and pains in her chest, the stiffness in her right arm, and the fact that a small part of her heart wasn’t even there anymore were all things she had grown to deal with.

It was only because of one artery, that happened to be somewhat vital to her heart and it’s functioning, had become almost completely blocked, eventually invoking a stroke. Her heart had been in such bad condition that the hospital stay was required, surgery upon countless surgery to help her heart function necessary, along with therapy to help her regain most of the movement in her arm.

And now, after almost two years, the blockage was back somewhat, increasing her chances of heart failure, heart attacks, stroke, and potentially, death.

The last one – the dying; that was the one on Luke’s mind.



Luke had died three years ago, on the way to pick Daylen up for one of their dates. It was nothing formal, as usual, but that night… That night it was really a date. She was sixteen, he was twenty, and despite what people may have thought about the age difference, he loved her more than anyone in the world, and knew that she loved him back just as much. It was cheesy, but it was true, and that night, he had intended to truly show it to her. A perfect summer night, spent out at the local amusement park that they had been to at least twenty times in that season alone, yet kept coming back to. You could really lose yourself in an amusement park.

However, none of that happened, because two blocks from the house that he’d first been tapped on the back by a little girl in front of, he was hit and killed by a drunk driver; one of his former friends.

The friend had also been killed.

And then, of course, he had come back. Just in time, too. When he’d been given all the required training and rule-enforcement needed to go see Day, they told him that she was in a much more… different… state then she had been.

He wasn’t expecting to go back to Earth and end up in a hospital room, where at least ten people were rushing around, hooking monitors up to his Daylen, poking her with needles and stitches, and giving blood transfusions. He wasn’t expecting to see Helen outside of the room, sobbing hysterically. He wasn’t ready to hear the officers explain how they had found the girl, in what condition. He wasn’t prepared for the diagnosis that sealed her fate.

He had screamed until his own ears were pounding.

His Daylen, the girl he had been forced to separate from a month earlier under unforeseen circumstances, had almost died before they preformed an angioplasty on her, a surgery that opened up the cursed artery and cleared all of what they called ‘plaque’ out of it – the stuff that had caused her heart attack, which had in turn, landed her in the hospital.

She almost had not survived.



“Day, there’s someone I want you to meet, love.” Luke breathed.

She inhaled sharply and wiped at her face with the hand not tucked under her own head, nodding slightly. Her crying had stopped for the most part, and her heels now lay on the floor, discarded, as if she had only worn them to keep her brave in public.

This girl, though, the one next to him, blubbering and hopeless, crying and messy, was the real Day.

Luke moved away, so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach to him as she sat up. She adjusted herself, looking weak and unkempt, her eyes puffy and her hair messy.

“Hello, Daylen,” a high-pitched voice said. “My name’s Breaken.”

Breaken stepped out from behind the door leading to the kitchen, looking faintly disoriented and partially curious.

Luke stared at her. She really wasn’t how he’d pictured, although that was obviously going to be the case with Angels. Her real form was a young woman, around twenty-five or so, with long, sleek brunette hair and a slight figure. Her eyes were dark green, tinted gold, and sent a shy smile in Luke’s direction. He found himself smiling back slightly, yet raising his arm, to almost shield Day from her.

His subconscious had remembered what his brain hadn’t quite processed; she was still either the impervious bringer of good or bad news – news he hadn’t yet heard.

Breaken’s eyes focused in on Daylen, perfect emotion flowing into them. “I am an Angel, and it’s been requested that I come here and talk to you today.”

Day’s eyes were panicked as she glanced at Luke, but he nodded and motioned for her to go with Breaken, even if he, himself, was more nervous than he had ever been.

He could wait, though. She was the one who mattered.

Breaken held out her hand, and Day accepted it apprehensively, straightening her skirt and casting uneasy looks around the apartment.

Luke didn’t take his eyes off of her until they had gone completely down the hall and disappeared into Day’s bedroom, the door closing behind them.

In the room, the atmosphere was tense.

“Daylen, I have the power and the authority to help you.” Breaken began quietly.

Day sat on the corner of her bed as Breaken paced around the room, staring down at her comforter. At those words, her eyes locked on the Angel.

“You can cure this…?”

“I can.”

Breaken faced the girl, a hard look on her face. “This is going to have to be your decision.”

“I want to be better,” Day blurted, almost frenetic.

Of course,” she said, nodding. “But for me to do that will result in expulsion of every memory, conversation, and feeling an Angel has ever given you.”

The look on Daylen’s face was similar to, but was far more extreme than, horror.

“You will also, then, no longer require Lucas’ service.”



----



When the moment came, three months later, Lucas Kevenski was there, his hand on Daylen’s, his face in the utmost pain, but twisted into a weak smile for her sake.

“It’s time, love.”

“I know… I’m scared,” she whispered, her eyes twitching as her tears burned them. She wouldn’t close her eyes because she was afraid of slipping away in a single blink, although Luke had chokingly managed to laugh and tell her that everything was going to be okay at least twenty times in the last thirty minutes, trying to convince both of them.

In the last three months, Day had been deteriorating. They couldn’t perform an angioplasty because of the closeness of the blockage to her heart, and either way, with or without the surgery, it would only result in one end.

Even though Luke had known what was going to happen, and that he would be the one to sit through her die, every step of the process had brought him to his knees. His Daylen was dying.

Luke had begged with her to let Breaken help; to let her fix everything in only a moment, but Day had been persistent. If this was where her story was meant to end, this is where she wanted it to end, not only because fate existed for a reason, but because of ulterior motives, most of them closely resembling the being lying next to her.

“You don’t have a single reason to be scared,” he said, his voice melodic. “I’ll be right here as long as you need me.”

His voice cracked and she reached up to touch his face, frowning sleepily when her hand went through him.

“What’s it like in Heaven?” she asked.

“It’s the most beautiful thing you can imagine, except even better,” he exhaled, wanting so badly to be able to move her hair out of her face, to kiss her forehead – to do something productive in his mind, even if his even being there was enough of a blessing to Day.

She smiled. “And you’re there.”

The antiseptic smell, almost thick enough to taste, mingled with the sound of machines beeping rapidly, then slowly, speeding and slowing down the time she had left. He hated the idea, he hated the atmosphere, and he hated that he knew why she’d chosen the path she had, but the same time, his entire soul was overjoyed that she didn’t want to be without him.

It was confusing in many ways, but that didn’t matter now. Not much did.

Now if only to spare her from this…

“I told you I’d be right here for always, and I mean it,” he whispered.

“No more pain,” she cooed.

“No more,” he agreed.

She began to close her eyes, but, remembering one final thing, she opened them again, wide and bright in the light.

“To die…” she began, but her voice failed. The heartbeat on the monitors was fading fast, and the first nurses started to show up, messing with plugs and pulling at needles, oblivious to the person in the bed with their patient.

Luke couldn’t help the noise that escaped his throat; that this was her last question almost defined her.

“I promise, love, I’ll be right here. No pain, no sadness, no loneliness, I promise.” She nodded, and he smiled down at her. “I’ll be waiting for you. I love you.”



With one final breath, Daylen closed her eyes.

The hand over hers was warm. Suddenly, everything was okay.