Alla's Tales

Benaedin's Promise: Chapter One: A Promise Broken; Installment Two

2008-03-19T20:56:34Z

~~~~~~~~

As the firewood touched the fire, green sparks flew out of it.

"Emeryc, are you there?" A female voice was carried on the sparks.

"Xara? Hold on, I will make my end stronger," Emeryc replied. He placed his last piece of firewood on the flames and focused his attention on them. The log caught alight instantly and his fire began to burn with a pale green light behind it. Xara's voice came out of the flames. She sounded panicked.

"Is it safe to come through, Em?"

"Yes. What's wrong? Why aren't you with Tham and her family?"

"I'd rather tell you when I get there," she replied. Emeryc heard her mutter the two syllables that she required to make her fire stronger, followed by the seven to create the connection so that she could travel between the two fires. This was followed by the eight syllable spell that sent her traveling as fast as a blink along the connection. Emeryc's fire burned a bright green and Xara stepped out of the flames. She ran straight into his arms. "Em, it was horrible. They burnt the house down with everyone inside. They didn't even spare little Sirae. Not even little Sirae. She died in my arms. The last thing that she said was 'Aunty Xar, why aren't you burning?'" Xara was sobbing between every few words. "The flames were hot enough to even affect Tham. What hope did the rest of the family have if a fire-healer was burned?"

Emeryc was surprised, but after his initial pause, he but hi arms around his wife and hugged her, as his still half asleep mind processed what she had just said. He shook his head, thinking that he might have misheard her.

"Xara, what happned?"

"The Seekers came to my village. They tested every little child. All of those who, if they were Talented, would not have had the chance to learn how to control their Talents to hide them. Of course Sirae was discovered and you know the penalty for being discovered with Talents." Xara's voice quietened. "Except now they punish the entire family. 'To eradicate such a horrid disease', the Seekers say."

"The entire family? Then we have lost the Mildthryth line? All this time, all that we have done, all that we have been through... has it all been for nothing?"

"It couldn't be for nothing, Em," Xara said. "The Powers would have stepped in if that was the case. There has to be something that we've overlooked. Something that we should have thought of." She was struggling to hide the annoyance in her voice, that Emeryc was more worried about their mission than about herr

Benaedin's Promise: Chapter One: A Promise Broken; Installment One

2008-03-19T09:09:42Z

There was a small campfire alight in a clearing not too far off the South Boatent Way. It had burned low, untended, as the man who lit it was asleep next to it. The fire was positioned so that it would not be seen from the Way. The only indication that there was anyone camped in the scrub that night was the slight depression of the grass that the man had made when he forayed off the Way in search of the clearing. He had tried to return the grasses to their original condition for he did not wish to be found.

This man was a wanderer; a rare kind of person these days, for the land that had once been the prospering Realm of Wallalute kept close tabs on anyone who travelled away from their home village. The current ruler, Emperor Ronir of the Pancruti Empire was paranoid that the people of these lands would rebel against him if they were given the smallest amount of freedom. However, this man had wandered for so long that he had become legend. Many troubadours told tales of his exploits; of how many times he had evaded capture by the Pancruti Talent Seekers and of how many times he had saved mage-born children from their grasp. There was a high price on his head given to anyone of the region if they could bring him in to face the Emperor's Justice, but for over four hundred and fifty years, no one had been able to capture him to turn him in.

He rolled over in his sleep and kicked out at something imaginary in his dream. His foot nearly came into contact with the embers, but by some fluke of luck or by natural instinct he pulled his foot back before it hit. He sat up, but if anyone had been looking at him, they would have thought him still asleep. His eyes were not focused on anything, and he seemed to be in a daze.

"I would never want to learn from you, traitor," he said, talking in his sleep to an invisible enemy. "I Promise that I will not rest until Benaedin's Promise is fulfilled."

He blinked and opened his eyes sharply and reached for the point at his hip where his sword usually sat. It took him a while to realise that it wasn't there and to take in his surroundings. He had been dreaming.

"That has never been so vivid, though. Not since it happened." He drew his grey cloak around him a little tighter and placed another piece of firewood onto the embers. There were still several hours until dawn and he had a long hike before him the next day.

A Challenge for myself

2008-03-19T08:17:59Z

Ok, I keep procrastinating from my uni work, so I have decided to make it a little more productive than just wander the internet, not looking at anything in particular. My challenge to myself is to write 500 words per day on a story of my choice, and to post it here for people to read. I will keep posting even if no-one comments on my posts, but comments are always welcome, both the 'more more more' kind and constructive criticism. This will be cross posted to allasomething, so that my friends there who haven't friended this journal know what I'm doing. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with it.

There may be some overlap of stories, as I notice that I also have parts of two different drafts of Benaedin's Promise sitting on here already. Bear with me when this happens - or tell me if you preferred one version over the other or something :).

Enjoy!

Its that time of the year again...

2007-11-03T22:24:58Z

Its NaNo time! here's the first installment.

Benaedin’s Promise
3159
Written for NaNoWriMo 2007
Dedicated to Peter Murray, lost friend and fellow NaNoWriMoer.
Dai’stihó cousin, I’ll see you in Timeheart.

There is a time of darkness coming for this Realm. A time when
A dark mage – a traitor – will take the throne and
Seek immortality through the murder of
Our most Talented. If here he succeeds,
Then our Realm must wait for
The Promise. The
Promise is
Our last
Hope.
~~ The last prophecy of Zoranne
of North Boatent, Time Seer
of the King’s Circle.

Chapter One
A Broken Promise

“Mark my words, Ronir, the next of my line with my Talents will be your downfall. This is my Promise to the Realm,” Benaedin said.
Ronir laughed at the Shieldmaiden. “You have no line, my Lady Benaedin. Zoranne’s prophecy cannot come true. Soon I will have the throne that should have been mine in the first place. I should be king. Not that upstart brother of mine.”
“Elan is king because everyone thought that you were dead. That is what happens when you meddle in dark magic,” Emeryc said.
“Silence, boy. You will be the next to die. Killing of all of the ducal lines will only be made easier by killing the only heir of the Goldwater family.” Ronir’s attention turned towards Emeryc, as the Shieldman had hoped it would, giving Benaedin a chance to fight him off. However, Benaedin did nothing.
“Ben…” Emeryc began to ask her why, but his Shield-mentor shook her head. Emeryc didn’t know what to say after that. He had never known a situation, either through observation of the famed Shieldmaiden and Master mage or through story, in which she had given up without a fight.
“Oh very touching,” Ronir said, his attention turning back to Benaedin. He drew an obsidian dagger from his belt and took a step towards her. “Now scream, my fair Shieldmaiden. Scream to your precious Powers, for it will be the last time that they hear your voice.”
Benaedin said nothing as he took three quick steps towards her and plunged the obsidian blade into her chest. Emeryc watched in horror as his shield-mentor collapsed. Ronir withdrew the blade and knelt down beside her body. His face bore a look of crazed triumph. He made a small incision in the palm of his hand and held it against the wound on Benaedin’s chest. Two different lights mingled, one pale blue and one deep red. Emeryc retched and closed his eyes. He had been told about such magic, and some part of him knew that he would have to face it some day, but it was worse than he had thought. That pale blue light was a mockery of what Benaedin’s mage-light, of what the deeper blue of her life force had been and Ronir was stealing it. A man was only meant to live his own life. Taking another person’s life force to use to extend ones own life was abhorrent.
Emeryc opened his eyes again when his subconscious told him that the mage-lights had disappeared. Ronir stood up, sheathed the dagger and turned around to face Emeryc. The Dark Mage looked the boy over and misinterpreted the look on Emeryc’s face.
“Does it excite you, boy?” he asked. “Does it make your blood run hot? Does it make you wish you had eternal life?” He walked across the clearing slowly, each question punctuated by another step. “Do you wish to learn what I can teach you?”
Emeryc stared at Ronir. He could not move. He was too terrified. Something had caught his tongue, too, so even if he had wanted to respond he could not. It was almost like being in a nightmare, the kind of dream where he needed to run, but his legs would not work. Ronir was now three paces away from him with one hand resting on the dagger’s hilt.
“Do you wish to learn what I have to teach you?, boy” Ronir repeated the question.
Emeryc could not believe what Ronir was asking. “You, you who have just killed my Shield-mentor and best friend dare to ask me that? Dark Mage, traitor, I would rather die than turn my Talents to such evil purpose,” Emeryc said. He did not know where the words were coming from, he would not normally be so confrontational. “I do not wish to learn what you say you have to teach. I would never wish for eternal life, but I Promise to the Powers that I will not rest until Benaedin’s Promise is fulfilled. I will live to see your downfall.”
And we accept your promise, the words rang through his head, their timbre indicating that there was more than one voice. Know that you will have our protection until Benaedin’s Promise is fulfilled.
Ronir laughed as he drew the dagger once more. He covered the three paces between them at a run only to find…
… Emeryc reappeared outside of the manor house in the Boatent Fortress where he…

… woke up, sweating. It had all been a dream. Well, that time it had all been a dream. Four hundred and eighty-three years had passed since that fateful day when it had all started, Four hundred and eighty-three years since the Dark Mage had killed Benaedin and Elan and taken the throne. Four hundred and eighty-three years he had watched and waited for Benaedin’s Promised descendant. He had witnessed the death of all of his friends, either at Ronir’s hand, or at the hands of time. He had witnessed so many deaths, all without (seemingly) growing a day older. Those of his friends whom he had been with on their death bed always told him ‘You don’t look a day older than 25 summers, Em. Except for your eyes…’.
He looked around the clearing in which he was camped. What had caused that dream to be so vivid? It was not the first time that he had relived those events in a dream, but they had not been so vivid since the day that it had all happened. He briefly contemplated placing another log on the fire and attempting to contact his wife who was much better at interpreting dreams than he was, but it would not do to wake her up and worry her. In the past, the dreams of those events had been sent to him by the Powers when he was beginning to lose faith in what he had promised to do. But such a vivid dream? Had he completely given up on the idea that everything would fall into place and he just did not know it? Or were the Powers pre-empting something? Or had he managed to return to the clearing where all of this had started?
He sighed. He missed being apart from Xara, the one-time Princess of the Realm and fellow training compainion from all those years ago when they were both training to become shields who was now his wife. She was the only one of his friends who had made it through the years, and only because she had proclaimed and proven her undying love for Emeryc to the Powers, and they had then accepted her promise that she would not rest until Emeryc had fulfilled his promise. EMeryc smiled slightly at the thought of those events. There were several songs about it floating around in troubadours repertoires, for when they were playing to a group of impressionable young women. Xara’s antics had even proven popular with the ladies of the Pancruti Empire, and there had been many a young girl to break with standard tradition of a man proving his love to a lady because the tale had endured so long.
Emeryc hummed a few bars of the song and rearranged his bedding. There was no point in worrying too much about the dream. He had given up trying to resist his part in prophecies when Beneadin had been killed. He placed another log on the fire so that it would continue to burn throughout the night and lay down once more. There were still several hours until dawn, and he had a long walk ahead of him the next day. He needed his rest.
He was almost asleep once more when his campfire flared and began to burn a bright green. He opened his eyes and was awake again immediately. That green was the colour of Xara’s magic, and it meant that she was trying to contact him. That there was no image in the flame told him that there was not enough energy on his end to receive the message. He placed his last piece of firewood into the flames, hoping that it would be enough.
“Emeryc? Are you there? Thank the Powers… I have been trying to get in contact with you for hours now, but your fire has not been powerful enough, and I could not risk a larger one,” Xara said. Her voice sounded panicked, and Emeryc, now that he could see her in the flames, could see that she was not her usual neat self. Her hair was dishevelled and her clothes were singed.
“Xara? What is wrong?” he said.
“Its Damien’s line, Em. The Seekers found that the youngest was Talented and burned their house with the family inside. Not one single family member survived. Not even Tahm and what hope did the others have if a fire-healer was burned?”
“What?! How… how did the Seekers find Shira? Did Tahm not tell her to keep her Talents a secret?”
“It’s the new leader of the Seekers. He has decreed – and with my traitorous brother’s approval – that all of the worker class is to be tested for Talents. And its all my fault. I was chatting with a hedge mage in the southern Amogin Province and it sitired up a few tellings of the old stories and the hedge mage started a rebellion involving all the mages in the region. I would guess that Ronir was frightened by the number of mages that came out of the blue and he decided to try and eradicate us once and for all.”
“So we have lost out only connection ot the Mildthryth family? We have lost the family that would have provided the only ‘link’ to Benaedin’s line?” Emeryc suddenly understood why the dream had been so vivid. The Powers had known about the extinction of the Mildthryth family and had wanted to remind Emeryc of his promise. His thoughts began to race. If the Mildthryth line had died out, then there was no point to either Xara or himself being there. Benaedin’s Promise had been broken, for she had borne no child. Damien’s line had been their only option, as far as Emeryc knew, and now they had lost that. “Where are you now?” he said.
“I am camped a mile or two off Highlands Way. It was the safest place that I could find. Where are you? We do have a connection. I could transport there.”
“That would be wonderful. I am in a clearing to the south west of Wight Moutain. If the Seekers are out and about in your area, then it would be a very good idea for you to get out of there.”
Emeryc stood up and took a step back. Xara had always been skilled at transportation between fires. He had often wondered if she would have been the third mage to master transportation without a fire, as he and Benaedin had been able to do, if she had had a little bit more power to play with. The fire flared higher again and Xara stepped through. She ran straight into Emeryc’s arms.
“Em, it was horrible. The Seekers killed them all. I didn’t think I was going to get out of there alive.”
“You were in the house?”
“Yes. I was with the family when the Seekers came and that meant that I was part of the family to their simple minds. How can Ronir order them to do that? Shira died in my arms. The last thing she said was asking me why nothing was happening to me. This all needs to end soon, Em. If Benaedin’s Promised descendant is not going to appear now, then I will go and kill that Powers damned brother of mine,” Xara said.
“It may come to that, now. I do not know how we are going to be able to find the Promise.”
“I am sure that it will all fall into place. Zoranne’s prophecies never failed us before now and if it had, surely the Powers would have done something about it.”
“That is true. I guess I’m just a little worked up. I dreamt about it again. Only this time it was more vivid.”
“That must be a sign. Every other time the Powers have sent you a dream of those events, it has forecasted some dilemma that we would have to face.”
“I know, but this would have to be the biggest dilemma that we have ever faced. Losing the Mildthryth line is a big thing.”
“Which is why the dream was so vivid.”

Comment and there'll be more posted :)

'hunter Installment 3

2006-11-09T04:18:55Z

Here we go again :)

And remember comments get more of the story posted :p

Three weeks later, Amanda was up and about again, but no one had told her where Alicia was. Alan had taken Peter’s advice and come up with a story to explain Alicia’s absence. Alan had a sneaking suspicion that Amanda knew that Alicia had left the camp for good, but he did not want to bring it up for fear of damaging Amanda’s fragile mind-state any further.

When the first contact date that he and Alicia had set came and went with not indication that she was going well or otherwise, he started to get worried. Had something happened? Had she been caught? Worse still, had she already been executed?

Two months went by and there was still no sign of a message from Alicia. Amanda had confronted him about it two weeks before hand and Alan, fed up with the farce that he had been playing, decided to be honest and had told her what he had done. Amanda had withdrawn completely since then, only talking to Peter, and then only with one word answers, or a nod or a shake of her head. Alan was afraid for her safety, and would sometimes spend an entire day following her around, just to make sure that she did not try to kill herself. This was at the detriment of his duties as the leader of the Fighters. Andrew Lucas, one of those Fighters who thought that they shouldn’t be spending this much time focusing on opposing the Alliance directly, and more on trying to find the old bunkers that housed the original Fighter camp, and the library it contained, had begun to take up the role of Leader by popular demand. Already the number of raids had dropped, and the society was becoming more self suffient, rather than having to raid nearby farmlands for food. Alan no longer cared. He wanted to hear from his granddaughter. He had a feeling that something had happened to her – something bad, but he did not know what.

At the four month mark, Alan was getting desperate. He had taken to wandering the lands around the camp, hoping against all of his common sense that Alicia would return home, and put everything to rights again. She had missed all five of the contact dates that they had set. It was as if she had forgotten about her home. Alan hoped that she had not been affected by the brainwashing techniques that the Alliance used to keep citizens quiet.

As he came back into the central cavern one evening, Peter approached him. “Alan, I think you had better come and see something. A young girl came into the caves this afternoon She is in the infirmary.”

“Is it Alicia?” he said, almost breaking into a run, before he realised that if it had been, then Peter would have referred to her by name.

“No, it is not Alicia, but the girl brings word of what your granddaughter has been up to. She says that she will tell no-one but you though, so we need you there,” Peter said. “All that I could glean from her, is that the news is not bad, but she will only tell you in exchange for shelter and an education.”

“That is fine with me. Have we ever turned away a citizen seeking shelter?” Alan said, following Peter as he started to wind his way back through the tunnels to the infirmary.

“No, but perhaps you had better se her before you decide completely,” Peter said. He let Alan into the room first, and then followed him in before shutting the door.
Alan stood stock still in his tracks when he saw the girl. If this girl was not Alicia, then his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Aside from the fact that she was a good deal skinnier, and had a slightly different slant to her eyes, and a large freckle next to her right eye.

“Kate, this is Alan. He is Alicia’s grandfather,” Peter said.
The young girl stood up and offered her hand to Alan. He was a little taken aback. He had only ever read about the quaint ‘hand-shaking’ ritual that people had used to greet each other with back in the past. He took her hand, and she gave his a firm squeeze.

“What about, what was her name again? Amanda? Alicias’ mother? Where is she?” Alan could hear a paranoia in the girls voice, and it was yet another thing that reminded him that this girl was not his granddaughter.

“I do not think that Amanda would be able to handle seeing you. She is a little, uh, distraught about everything that has happened over the past few months, and you do know that you look a lot like Alicia,” Peter said.

“Yeah, I know that. So, can you offer me a place to stay here? And food and all the rest. I only traded places with Alicia because she thought that you would take me in,” Kate said.

“Of course we can offer you a place to stay,” Alan responded. “You say she traded places with you? What place was this? She isn’t in trouble with the Alliance, is she?”

“No, nearly the exact opposite, although I can’t say for sure. It has taken me nearly a month to get out here. You Fighters really do know how to pick your hiding spots.” Kate jumped up onto the bed again and sat facing the two men. There was an awkward silence, as none of them knew what to say. Kate thought that she had better continue telling what she knew of Alicia, less Alan decide that they could not offer her shelter. She was about to start talking again when a woman burst into the room.

“Ali, you’re back?” Amanda said, looking intenently at the young girl who was sitting on the bed. Just as suddenly as she had burst into the room, she felt her knees crumple, and she fainted again.

It took Alicia three weeks to make her way into the outskirts of Brisbanton. She was careful to not be seen by anyone before she actually reached the city. She had nearly been caught by three ‘hunter patrols in the outskirts before she came across a group of street kids.

“Over here,” one of the children said, showing her how to get into the drains. “’hunters can’t fit down here, and they never look anyway. They’re only out to recruit those of us who don’t hide. You should know that, anyway, Kate.”

Alicia slid down beside the boy, nodding, uncertainly. He was a little on the chubby side, and probably a year or two older than she was. They waited in the dank darkness of the drain for the patrol to pass, and then the boy opened the drain cover again and they climbed out. That gave him a chance to get a better look at her.

“You’re not Kate, are you?” he said, backing away from her. “What’re you pulling? You’re one of them aren’t you? There was some rumour that the ‘hunters were going to start cloning. I didn’t think that they had perfected it.”

“I’m not a clone,” Alicia replied, walking towards him as he backed away. “No, don’t run. I’m, I’m new in town. I’ve just come down from the hills.”

“You’re a Fighter?” The boy was amazed. “Then, are the Fighters cloning people?”

“I’m not a clone. Who is this Kate? And who are you?” she asked. She avoided answering the boy’s first question. For all that she had tried to prepare her mindset on the way down from the camp, she still did not think that she could answer a direct question like that without some hint to the person asking it that she was not telling the truth.

The boy frowned. Growing up on the streets of the outskirts had given him a certain amount of in built paranoia. He was always hesitant to make friends, but Kate was his best one of the ones he had made. There was a gang of ten or so of them, the full total was always hard to keep track of, as the ‘hunters had become more efficient in finding the runaways who had decided to live on the streets, in an attempt to stay away from the brainwashing techniques that they used to keep the citizens in line. If there was one person in the group that they would look to as a leader, it was Kate, even though she was the youngest of them. She had been on the streets for the longest, and there was a certain resilience in her, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that seemed to have been bred out of most of the citizens. “Will you swear that you are not a ‘hunter agent?” he asked. “Swear on –“

“I swear on my father’s grave that I am not a ‘hunter agent. Those bastards executed him,” Alicia said. “I want to get my revenge.”

“You’re a child of a seditioner?” the boy asked. “I thought that they usually brainwashed the family when they removed the seditioner from society.”

Alicia frowned. ‘Removal from society’ was an awful way to put such a shocking act, yet the boy said it as if death was a common thing. “I am the child of a seditioner. My mother told me to run before the ‘hunters came for us. I have been living off what ever I could find in the hills behind Brisbanton since.”

“And you look like you’ve done well on it too,” a third person said coming up behind the pair. “Alex, why are you talking to this stranger? You don’t know who she is allied to – or if she is a ‘hunter agent.”

“She swore on her father’s grave that she was going to get revenge on the ‘hunters. She says that her father was executed by them. Just like yours, Kate,” the boy called Alex replied, turning around to face the newcomer.

“And do you know her name? She now knows my name, but yet, I
have no idea of hers. You know that we don’t like strangers. Why did you help her?” Kate said. Alicia was starting to not like this girl. Who was she to boss this boy around? From sound alone, the girl seemed to be no older than Alicia was.

“No, I don’t, but –” Alex said, before Alicia rudely interrupted him.

“I am Alicia Brunt. I was just about to introduce myself to your friend here, when you interrupted,” Alicia said, turning so that she was facing the girl. Both of the girls stood stock still, not believing what they were seeing. Each girl was nearly a spitting image of the other, except that Kate had a slightly different look about her eyes, and a large freckle next to her right eye. “You’re… you? You look exactly like me,” Alicia said quietly.

“No, I think you look exactly like me,” Kate responded. “Are you a clone?”

Alicia rolled her eyes. “I am no clone. If I was, I would have that ghastly spot next to my eye, would I not?” she said, in a similar tone of voice.

“There is only one way to settle who is like who. We look around the same age. In what month were you born?” Kate said, taking a step closer to Alicia. How could two girls look so much alike? “And you say that you were – are the child of a seditioner who was removed from society? What was his name?”

“I was born on the sixteenth day of the thirteenth month of the two hundred and seventeenth year of the reign of the Alliance,” Alicia said, careful to give the year of her birth in a way that would not betray her origins. The Fighters used two different calendars. The first was the calendar that she was told was used before the rise of the Alliance – the Gregorian Calendar, it was called. It had operated on a twelve month cycle (which she could not understand, as that meant that it bore no resemblance to the cycles of the moon) and the year was measure from the made up year of birth of an arbitrary and almost-long forgotten religious figure. By that calendar, she was born in the year 2231. The calendar that was used by the Citizens and the Alliance, however was based on the cycles of the moon, so that no details about the dates need to be written down.

“Kate,” Alex said hesitantly. “Isn’t that your birthday?”

Kate glared at the boy. She had been going to claim that she was a year older than she really was. She was respected by those children who ran the streets in her region of Brisbanton. She had been on her own for much longer than any of them, and actually had a reason to avoid the Alliance. Her father had been executed by the bastards two years before, and her mother not too long after that. She had, thankfully, avoided any contact with the ‘hunters, however, as she had run away from home some four years before that. There were few among her fellow runners who actually knew how old she was, for she was always careful to seem older than she was. “So, we share the same birthday. And we look so alike. I do not remember having a sister.”

“I am an only child,” Alicia said. “I - I have been in the hills on my own for nearly two and a half years now.” Alicia hoped that her story was feasible. She should have taken the time while she was coming down from the Fighters’ camp to come up with a story that she could abide by. She would have to keep track of what she told people. It would not do for her to be caught out as a Fighter because she had embellished her story too much. She wanted to avoid the question of who her father was, though. If she was to succeed with gaining employment with the Bureau, then she would have to have a completely clean record with no links to any seditious individuals. Alex already knew too much.”

“And who was your father?” Kate said, her tone demanding an answer.

“I do not think that that is relevant, or any of your business,” Alicia said, turning her back on the girl. She could be just as rude. “If you don’t want me here, I will find somewhere else to go. Closer into the city perhaps and,” she paused for effect. She did not know what sort of affect that this threat would have on the girl. “And perhaps I will remember you if the ‘hunters catch me.” Alicia started to walk away from the pair.

“Now you wait there,” Kate said, taking a few running paces after Alicia. “That is not how we work here. I do not care if you have just come in from the fartherest reaches of the Afro-European Association, This is my section of town, and I will not be pushed around.” Kate grabbed Alicia’s arm and spun her around.

“Don’t touch me!” Alicia raised her voice a little too loud, and Kate looked around nervously.

“Keep your voice down. According to the ‘hunters, a raised voice and an argument is a sign of individual thought. Come back to our current hiding spot, then. If you want to have a full scale fight, we might as well do it somewhere safe,” Kate was still looking over her shoulder in the direction that the ‘hunter patrol had gone.

“Too late,” Alex said. “They’re coming back. One of the citizens must have reported your, uh, discussion. RUN!”

enjoy!

Benaedin's Promise

2006-11-07T12:04:10Z

Upon Kate's request:

Some four days ride south of the Goldwater caves were the fertile plains that had once belonged to Mildthryth, Amogin and Clearwater Duchies. They were the home of most of the population of Wallalute. The workers there had been tending the fields for nearly two hundred years. By rights, the fields should have long been useless for growing crops, as they were never rested. As soon as one crop was harvested, another was planted in its place. The workers lamented over having to do this, but if they wanted any food to eat themselves, they had to.

The one thing that kept the fields fertile were the mages amongst the workers. No matter how hard Ronir tried, he did not seem to be able to eliminate them all. As soon as he got word of a mage, he sent his soldiers to capture them. But more often than not, they had disappeared, never to be seen again.

The people living here told stories at night. Stories that told of the times before Ronir, and of Benaedin’s Promise. Many of them remembered the Cave refuges. Indeed, this was where the disappearing mages ran to, rather than be killed. In one of the tiny houses on the plains, one of those stories was being told.

“… and they say the Watcher is still living in the Realm somewhere, waiting for the time of Benaedin’s Promise,” Panner said, ending the story as his children were nearly falling asleep.

“Papa, tell us another one,” Aryenne said, wanting to fall asleep with her mind on magic and legends. Whenever she did, she always had the best dreams.

“No more tonight, Ary. It is getting late. You and Darren need to be up early tomorrow, remember.”

“I know, Papa, but one more short one can’t hurt, can it?” Aryenne let out a loud yawn, and Panner smiled.

Darren was shaking his head. “No more tonight, Ary. Or you’ll sleep in tomorrow. Its never good to show up late on your first day.”

Aryenne frowned. “Alright,” she said. She sat up kissed her father good night and then lay down. As soon as her head touched the straw-stuffed pillow, she was asleep, dreaming of the time of the Wallalutean Golden age.

Ary woke up several times that night. Part of it, she knew was anticipation of her first day of working in the fields. She did not know what else was waking her. All she could surmise was that something was going to happen. Something good, but dangerous.

“Ary. Ary, wake up, child, or you will be late for roll call,” Chessa said, shaking her daughter awake.

Ary sat up in a rush. “Did I sleep in?” she asked.

“Barely, child. Get dressed and run along. Your brother has your lunch with him. Don’t be late for roll call.” Chessa held out a shift and apron to her daughter as Ary stood. Ary reached out to take it, but her mother did not let go. She was staring at Ary’s upper arms and chest, shocked.
Ary looked down. She was glowing.

“Ma, what is this?” she asked, scared.

“Its one of the marks of a Talent. Of all the times. Hurry, get dressed and get going. Your clothes will hide it for the time being. We can talk about it more tonight. Hurry.”

Ary did as she was told and pulled the shift and apron on over her head. She fastened her belt around her waist and ran out of the hut, just in time to join her brother at the end of the roll call line.

Ary looked up the line. She was the youngest there by three summers. Usually children of her age were allowed to play for most of the day, only helping out with the work at harvest time, by carrying water out to the harvesters, and by packing the harvest into bags. Ary, however had chosen to work in the fields, to replace her mother. Chessa was pregnant with her third child, and had been having a hard time with it. Each family was given a quota of workers, depending on how many in it were older than 13 summers. Both Aryenne and Darren had swapped places with their parents.

“What took you so long?” Darren said, as the army corporal marking the roll moved down the line towards them.

“I slept in a little.” Ary said.

The Corporal had reached them. “Darren aen Panner?” he said, reading off
his list.

“Here, Corporal,” Damien replied.

“Chessa aen Gront?” he asked next, looking around.

“Please, sir,” Ary said.

“Corporal,” the soldier grunted, correcting her.

“Please, Corporal, my mother is having a hard time with her pregnancy. I’m taking her place.”

The Corporal grunted again, scribbling something on his list. “And you’d be?”

“Aryenne aen Panner.”

“You’re a young one to be working in the fields. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

Ary nodded, confidently.

“Well what are you waiting for.” The corporal raised his voice so that everyone could hear him. “You know your assignments. Move out!”
Ary followed her brother out to the fields. Darren kept giving his sister sidelong glances. Finally, when they reached the field that was their responsibility to plough and sow for the day, Darren looked around to make sure that there were no soldiers nearby.

“You’re glowing,” he said. “Not enough for the soldiers to notice, but I can see it. You’re Talented?”

“It only appeared this morning. I didn’t know,” Ary said. “And keep your voice down. The last thing that we need is the soldiers to find out.”
Darren nodded and picked up the plough. To start off with, Ary ran a head of it, picking up all the rocks that she could see. Once she had a basketful, she ran to the side of the field and emptied it out. The Corporal who had marked the roll was watching her. She continued to pick up all the rocks that she could see and move them off to the side so that they wouldn’t disrupt the plough. Darren guided the plough along behind her. Once Ary had gathered all the rocks, she paused, getting a dipper of water and then gathered what she needed to start sowing the newly ploughed ground.

“Oi!” The Corporal yelled while she was walking back behind Darren, “You missed one.”

He stalked across the field, and grabbed a pebble that had been unearthed by the plough. Ary could tell that it would have been well and truly buried if the plough had not unearthed it, but she knew better than to talk back to the soldiers.

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again,” Ary said staring at the ground. If she was lucky, the corporal would not insist on taking her to the captain for a reprimand, as was the usual punishment for those who made a mistake in the fields.

“It had better not, but just to be sure, report to the Captain at the midday break.” The corporal turned and went off to harass the other workers.

Darren turned to his sister. “Don’t worry, that corporal picks on everyone on their first day. And the Captain is a reasonable man. Come on, lets keep going.”

A bell rang at high noon marking the lunch break. Darren pointed out the tent that the Captain stayed in for most of the day, and Ary set off across the fields, being careful to stay clear of the ploughed and planted sections. She did not want to get into any more trouble. She paused before knocking on the wooden board outside the tent, untying the knot that kept her skirts out of the dirt.

“Come in,” a mans voice said. “Ah, you would be Aryenne, wouldn’t you?”
Ary nodded. “Please sir, I –”Ary began, thinking that she might need to explain.

“No excuses, lass. I know what Corporal Larn is like, and that his story is probably highly exaggerated. Tell me, child. Why are you working in the fields. At your age, you should be enjoying yourself while you still can,” Captain Halrin asked. He was surprised that this child was not afraid of talking to him. Many of the workers were afraid that they would say something to offend him, because of the impression that some of his soldiers gave.

“Its my mother, sir. She’s pregnant, and its hurting her. I volunteered to
take her place because she’s so sick of a morning. You said it was alright when she asked you. And Darren has taken da’s place, because he has a bad back.”

“Your mother would be Chessa aen Panner?” Halrin inquired.
Ary nodded.

“I remember Chessa from my youth. I probably would have married her, had…” Halrin shook his head, surprised that he had got so far off track. There was something about this girl. Something that made him want to open up to her. “Anyway, back to what you’re here about. You missed a rock when clearing the field for your brother?”

Ary bit her lip. She knew the ultimatum that was coming, even though the plough had not been damaged. She nodded, staring at her feet.
“Do you know the penalty for such a misdemeanour?” Halrin watched the girl closely. There were few who ever faced this ultimatum, as the punishment was harsh. Everyone made sure that they did their job well.

“Y-yes, sir. Double taxes for your family for a year – or ten lashes.” Ary had already made her mind up.

“And? Which do you choose?” Halrin could read her face. There was a strange tone in her voice when she responded.
“The lashes.”

Halrin frowned. He had never heard of any one, across the entire Empire that had chosen the double taxes, but to see this young girl make the decision to save her family created a certain resolve in him. There was something about this girl; something that was important, but he didn’t know what. He had an urge to protect her.

“I’ll tell you what, Aryenne aen Panner. As this is your first day, I will excuse this mistake,” Halrin said. Aryenne opened her mouth to interrupt, but Halrin raised a finger for silence. “Don’t interrupt. Furthermore, I am proud of your resolve. Report to me after roll-call next morning. I have need of a messenger. If you prove yourself worthy for this position, there may be a future in it for you.”

“What about the fields? I can’t let mum or da back out to work.”

“Do not worry about that. I will sort everything out. And soldiers – even messenger-girls do not talk back to their superiors. You’re dismissed, aen Panner.”

Ary copied the salute that she had seen the soldiers give their Captain and ran off. She couldn’t believe her luck.

Halrin stood at the door to his tent, watching her run off. He remembered when he had been an idealistic youth, full of eagerness to see the world. He had run away from his village – from this village, in fact – to join the Empire’s soldiers. That had been before the uprising, before soldiers had become garrisoned at every village.
He had left behind all of what he had known and loved – including a young woman named Chessa aen Fir. He had soon discovered that soldiering was not all the glory that it was made out to be in the ballads and legends of old. He could remember the stories that his father had told him of their family of old. That they were descended from one of the old noble houses of the realm that had once been known as Wallalute.
Halrin frowned, he had banished those memories when he had run off, even returning to his home village and seeing the people he had grown up with had not brought them back. Some of them had married, some of them even had one or two children of their own. Only two people knew that he had grown up there.
He shook his head trying to clear the memories. There was something about this girl that aroused so many memories of his childhood. Something that remimded him all too much of himself. He frowned. Surely not.
“Perhaps it is time that I paid Chessa and Panner another visit,” he said to himself. “Tonight.”

Darren looked up as Ary came racing towards him., nimbly jumping over the plough handles. He was surprised to see her in such good spirits.
“Why are you so happy?” he asked.
“Captain Halrin let me off – and he’s said that I’m to report to him in the morning, because he needs a messenger.”
Darren’s eyes opened wide. “A messenger? Why does he want you for a messenger? There are many boys who would love to do it.”
“I don’t know,” Ary replied. “And just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean that I can’t do things like carry messages.” Sometimes her brother’s belief that girls couldn’t do things as well as boys annoyed her.
“You just watch out. He may have you joining the Soldiers. And with your secret, you don’t want to be going anywhere near the capital.”
“I don’t plan on it,” Ary said. “Why would I want to leave the village? Everything that I’ve ever known is here. I don’t need to know any more.”

That night Halrin waited until it was after lights-out in the barracks and walked across the village to Panner’s house. He had changed out of his uniform, and would have almost passed for one of the worker-folk, but he knew that the years that he had spent doing drill and other soldiering activities had given him a certain pace and stance which was not a common thin amongst the workers. He paused at the well where an older lady was drawing a bucket of water. She seemed to be struggling a little, so he gently took the rope from her and hauled the bucket to the surface. She looked up at him.
“Thanks, young man. There aren’t many like you left in this village,” she said. She unhooked the bucket from the rope and Halrin watched as she carried it back to her house.
He continued walking towards Panner’s house. It was on the outskirts of the cluster of houses. Halrin could remember going there while his parents were working in the fields to play with his friends. He paused again at the gate to the small garden that had made this house a favourite for playing. Halrin frowned once more, still not sure why all these memories were suddenly being recalled, after having been suppressed for so long.
He walked beneath the apple tree in the yard and looked up. There were the remains of the fort that he and Panner had built. He remembered the battles that they had imagined – all of the old stories that they had played out. There had been something about those stories that had called out to the three of them. Chessa had often played at being Benaedin of Mildthryth, Panner had been the legendary Emeryc of Goldwater and Halrin had been Elan of Amogin. Their games had died off when they all reached the age where they had to start helping the adults. Gradually they had lost belief in the old legends and their tree-fort had fallen apart.
“Why am I remembering all of this?” Halrin asked himself. He knocked on the door to the house and waited for someone to answer it.

Ary and the rest of her family had been sitting around their table, discussing the problem that had been aroused that morning. Ary was staring at the glow from her arms.
“We’ll have to leave,” Panner said. “It is only time before someone finds out.”
“Maybe Halrin already suspects something. Why else would he have made you his messenger, Ary?” Damien said.
“I don’t know.” Ary concentrated and the glow slowly moved down each of her arms to her hands, so that there was a soft blue light glowing from under her skin. A little more concentration and the light appeared to move out of her hands so that she was holding a small ball of light.
“Ary, stop that,” Chessa said. “You never know who is watching. Panner, I know my family has never had any Talents. Has yours?”
“Not as far as I know,” Panner frowned. “There is the possibility that she is a major throwback.” Panner watched his daughter throw the ball of light into the air. It reached the top of its parabola and disappeared. “I have never heard of any Talent able to control the light so.”
Chessa frowned. There was one other possibility about where Aryenne could have inherited her bad luck. She knew that Panner could probably guess too, but he had never said anything.
Panner looked around at his family. “Gather your things together tonight. We will leave at midnight tomorrow. Now, you two need to go to bed.”
“Da, can’t we stay up a little longer?”
“We need to pack, don’t we?”
Chessa stepped in. Panner had never been able to get his children to sleep. “You have very little to pack. I can do it for you while you are working. Now go to bed.”
Darren and Ary obeyed their mother and went into the room that they shared. Once Ary was sitting on her rough straw mattress, she realised how tired she actually was.
“Darren, what if I get found out? What will happen to you and Ma and Da?” Ary asked.
“ ‘A family of an accused and convicted mage shares the same punishment, for We cannot allow their line to continue,’” Darren replied, quoting the law.
“I can’t be found out then,” Ary said, a note of determination in her voice, as she fell asleep.

Chessa waited for five minutes, her hands folded on the table, until she was sure that her two children were asleep. There was something that she needed to tell Panner, and the sooner the better. She knew that he could probably have already guessed that Ary was not actually his daughter.
“Panner,” she said, not too sure where to start.

“Don’t say that, Chessa. I know what you are going to tell me. You were not the only one to speak with Halrin when he returned. Even if she is not my flesh and blood, I still love her.”

“How long have you known for?” Chessa could not bring herself to look at her husband. It was bad enough that she had done it and kept it secret for nearly ten years, but to find out that Panner had known and was seemingly calm about it made the situation worse.

“For some years now. Chessa, do not worry yourself. I am happy to be part of such a special child’s family.”

Chessa looked up sharply, but before she could say anything, there was a soft knock on their door. Panner stood and went to the window, peering out to see who it was.

“Halrin, what are you doing here?” he said, opening the door.

“Hush,” Halrin said, slipping through the open door. “Close it.”

“Yes, Captain,” Panner’s voice held the slightest amount of contempt. “Why are you here?” he repeated.

“I wish to talk with you about Aryenne,” Halrin said. “I’m sure that she’s told you by now that I wish her to be a messenger.”

“Please, sit down,” Panner said. He was slightly suspiscious about his old friend. No member of the military ever bothered to take the time to talk to the workers. What if he had discovered Ary’s Talents. “Why have you decided to take her as a messenger?”

Halrin shrugged. “I thought it would be better for her than to have her slaving in the fields. Its also giving her a better start to life than most children. I thought you would appreciate it, old friend.”

“We do, don’t we, Panner?” Chessa said, before her husband could say something that they would both regret. Panner nodded.

Halrin could tell that there was something that the pair was trying to keep from him. There was something that was making his two oldest friends seem awkward around him. “Is there something that you want to tell me?” Halrin asked. “Or would you rather I leave?”

“Halrin…” Chessa paused. She still trusted their old friend, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted him to know this particular fact about Ary.
Halrin stood up. “Very well. I c an tell when I’m not wanted. I just wanted to tell you that Corporal Larn has called in the Testers. He has some suspicions about Ary. I need to know now. Are they true?”

Chessa and Panner looked at each other. If the Testers came and discovered that Ary was Talented, then they would all be in trouble. They would purge the village of their entire extended family, just to make sure that their line was destroyed. That look was all that Halrin needed.

“I will do what I can. The Testers will not be here for another week or so. They are currently busy in the north,” Halrin said.

“What can be done, though?” Panner said. “No-one has ever escaped the Testers.”

“That isn’t quite true,” Halrin said, nervously. “I have avoided them for many years.”

“You’re Talented?” Panner said. “But, how?”

“Family heritage, I guess. Do not tell anyone, you are now the only people who know – other than my parents of course. One of the reasons why I knew so many of the old legends was that they have been passed down my family for generations.”

“How did you keep it a secret?” Chessa asked. Now she knew whose family Ary had her Talents from.

“It is not very powerful – really no more than a feeling that I get when something is wrong. Ary, however, if the legends are true is the most powerful Talent to be born outside the caves in the past thousand years.”

“Caves?” Panner asked. “You mean the mage refuges?”
Halrin nodded. “You must get her to them, but don’t leave tomorrow. I would suggest that you leave after the Testers have been through. Otherwise you may find yourself running from the soldiers too.”
Panner frowned. “You would send them after us?”

“Not I. But it doesn’t mean that the Testers will not order it. They are a suspicious group of people. I would not put it beyond them to connect a run-away family to a Talented person,” Halrin said. “I could only delay them for so long.”

Chessa looked at Panner. She knew that Panner would have figured out where Ary had got her Talents from, but did Halrin know. She took a deep breath.

“Halrin, you know where Ary gets her Talents from, don’t you?” Halrin looked at Chessa closely. “Neither mine nor Panner’s families have any heritage of Talents.”

“I… I never knew. Panner –” he looked apologetically at his old friend.

“Don’t, Halrin. I know now. I had really always suspected something strange about Ary’s birth. The timing wasn’t right.” He looked out the window and changed the subject. “Do you know how to get to the refuges?”
Halrin shook his head. “Well, I know the general location, but other than that I’m not too sure. The closest one would be in Golter, I think. Mother was never too revealing on the exact location. I think she was too worried that I was so close to the military – that I wanted to join the Soldiers even though I was Talented.”

Panner was still looking out the window. There was a flash of blue against what had once been the whitewashed walls of their tree-fort. “There’s someone in the yard,” he said. “Someone in a Soldier’s uniform.”

Halrin moved to the window and looked out. “Its Larn. The sly bastard. He must have followed me. And he’s meant to be on watch too.” He squinted a little more and noticed two people approaching the gate to the yard. “No. They were meant to be weeks away. Wake Darren and Ary. We must leave now.”
Chessa ran into the room that Darren and Ary shared and shook them awake.

“Come on, we must leave now.” She said.

They both got up quickly, neither of them had really been asleep; they had been listening to the conversation. “What’s wrong?” Darren said, hurriedly changing into the tunic that Chessa passed to him.

“Use your blanket as a cloak,” she said. “We must leave. There are Testers at our gate. Ary, there’s no time to waste,” she said to her daughter when she paused in the middle of putting on her overdress.

“Testers? Here?” There was a worried look on her face.

“Yes,” Halrin stuck his head through the doorway. “They must be very interested in you. They were at Wighton. They must have ridden their mounts to the ground to get here. Come on.” He beckoned towards the back window. “We have to go.”

There was a knock at the door as Ary slid out the back window. Halrin was close behind her, but no others followed them out. Panner stuck his head out the window. “Halrin, if we are still friends, get her away from here. Get her to the refuge.”

Halrin opened his mouth to reply, but Panner had already closed the shutters and gone inside. Halrin and Ary heard the front door open. There was sound of a brief scuffle and a muffled scream from Chessa.

“Where are the others?” they heard an unfamiliar, accented voice demanded.

“I do now know,” Panner said. “Captain Halrin came here and took her away, I do not know where he took her.”

Halrin frowned. “Now they’ll be looking for both of us. I think that is our signal to leave,” he said, taking Ary’s hand and starting to walk away from the house.

“I have to help them,” Ary said. “Tbe Testers will hurt them.”

“Aryenne aen Panner. No. They will hurt, they will kill them if you go back in there. Come, I will get you to the caves. It is your best chance.” He pulled her along, towards the barrack stables.

“What about my family?” she asked looking back towards her house.

“They will be alright. Come on, there is no time to waste.” Ary was dragged behind Halrin as he picked up the pace. He reached the corral where most of the horses were held and walked confidently through the herd. He came out again leading a tall, black stallion. He picked Ary up and put her on its back before chasing the rest of the herd out of the corral. The Soldiers could not follow them as quickly if they were busy rounding up their horses.

Ary looked around at the stampeding horses around her and wondered why the stallion was not following his herd-mates. Halrin placed a hand on his shoulder and jumped onto his back with the ease of someone who had been riding for a long time. Ary did not see or feel the signal that Halrin gave to the horse, but he took off at a gallop with the rest of the herd.
They didn’t slow their pace until dawn. At the black’s first stumble Halrin stopped immediately and dismounted. “We have to let him recover.”
Ary nodded and slid off the horse’s back. “Where are we?” she asked. She had never been beyond the boundaries of the village before.

“Near where the Mildthryth fortress used to be of old. If he’s up to it – and we don’t run into any Soldiers on the way, we should be there in a few days.” Halrin looked around. “I do not like this,” he said. “What is it about you that make me remember and do things that I shouldn’t?”
Ary looked at Halrin. “How am I supposed to know?” She was feeling tired and grumpy. “You’re the one who has brought me here. I assumed that you had some reason for it.”

“I do, I do not know why though, other than that you are Talented, and,” Halrin paused, he did not know if he should be telling Ary his secret so soon, but there was no other option. “And that you are my daughter.”

“What?! I’m aen Panner – I’m Panner’s daughter. I’m not yours.” Ary said, her tone telling Halrin that she wanted an argument – that she needed something to work her frustration out against. If all the legends were true, he was just glad that the young girl was not holding a weapon. He shook his head – what had made him think of that? Although, it gave him an idea.

“Keep your voice down,” he said, using the voice that had always made the most unruly Soldier obey him. “The hills around here echo and the last thing that we need is for us to be found. “
Ary paused, she would have answered him back, but she knew that he was right. If she was caught it would mean that her entire family would be killed. “I am not your daughter,” she said again, whispering.

“Believe what you wish. You should get some rest. We’ll need to keep going soon, once Lian has recovered his strength,” Halrin said, changing the subject.

The long day and night that she had had suddenly took a hold on her, and all that Ary could think of was sleeping. She suspected that Halrin had worked magic of some sort on her, but she was too tired to do any thing about it. She woke up as the sun started to shine on her face. Halrin was keeping a lookout.

“Are you in a better mood?” he asked when he noticed that she was awake.

“I guess so,” Ary replied. “Have you had any rest?”

Halrin shook his head. “You needed it more than I did. Come on, we had better get going again.” He picked Ary up and placed her on Lian’s back before jumping up again himself. “If we’re lucky, the Testers have not found our trail. We can be a little more careful about it during the light and we will stop at moonrise.”

The ride that day was slower than the headlong gallop that had been their escape the night before. Ary started to feel more confident, sitting just behind Lian’s withers. She started to look around at the country side that they went through. They rode at an easy canter for most of the time, stopping only twice to water Lian at two village troughs. Halrin was thankful that he had taken the fastest and fittest horse. There should have been no way that any messenger could have overtaken them. All the same, when some of the villagers started to look at the travelling pair too closely, Halrin got back on Lian and started heading out of the village.

Moonrise saw them arrive at a clearing. Ary looked around in amazement at it. Trees, all of the same kind, and of a type that she did not recognise, encircled the clearing. Halrin seemed to relax.

“I was hoping that we would reach this place. It is an old sanctuary glade,” he said. “The trees provide protection for those within them. No one bearing any ill-will can enter them. They say that the gods of old protect each glade. Many used to have a shrine in them, although it seems like this one is lost. We will be safe here tonight.”

“Do you want me to keep a watch?” Ary asked. Having slept half of the day, she was still quite alert and did not want to go to sleep just then.

“No, the trees will do that for us,” Halrin said. “Though I know how you feel. Tell you what, I will tell you one of the old legends, and then it is time for both of us to turn in.”

Ary nodded. She liked the old legends. “Tell me one about Lady Sandy,” she said. “They’re my favourite ones.”

I might post more later, but for now I need to work on NaNoWriMo.

Enjoy!

'hunter Installment 2

2006-11-05T05:29:33Z

Here's the next part:

Alicia was playing by herself in an alcove, watching the other kids playing tag and hopscotch, and wishing that she was accepted enough to join in. She was too different from the other children. She did try, but Cameron had control of them all. If there was one person that she would hate to be out in the field with. There was no way that she could bring herself to trust him.
“Ali!” Mary said, spying the younger girl by herself. “Your mother and your grandfather want to talk to you. Come on.”
“How did Grandy find out about that so soon?”
“The fight? I don’t think he did, but what they want to talk to you about is a result of that. Come on.” Mary grabbed Alicia’s wrist and dragged her back along the tunnels at a run. They slowed down when they reached a bend to avoid running into group who had just returned from a raid.
“What is so urgent that we have to run so fast?” Alicia asked.
Mary slowed down and stopped a few paces away. “I don’t know,” she said, “It just felt like the right thing to do. I guess we can walk the rest of the way.”
They soon arrived at the bunker that served as the classroom. Mary was suprsied to find that Jason had left, and that there were several other senior Fighters in the room. She barely waited for the nod of thanks that Alan gave her before she ran off again, back to the central cavern to join her fellow children in their games.
“Alicia, please sit down,” Alan said, indicating the chair that was facing where all the adult Fighters were sitting. “We have an, idea, that we would like to put to you – and remember that you do not have to make this descision now, there is still a few months before you need to leave if you do decide to do this. This will also be your choice, and your choice alone, because we need to make completely sure that you will apply yourself to this task with no restraints.”
Alicia frowned. What on Earth was he going on about? She sat down on the chair hesitantly.
“This ‘mission’ of sorts will not be mentioned outside of this room. The only people who know of it – and who need to know of it are in this room, right now.” Alan took a deep breath. “We, as a council, have long thought that we needed to try and get someone in to the top ranks within the Bureau, but unfortunately, this sort of mission will prove to be a little harder than the average raid, as we must get someone who will pass the high-level screening that will get them into the Bureau. This being said, we need to, ah, let one of our children ‘go’ into the world of the civilians and make themselves known to be ‘loyal’ to the Alliance.”
Alicia’s frown deepened. “And you think that I’d want to leave the safety of the camp?” she said.
“I told you, Alan,” Amanda said. “I said that she’s –”
“Smarter than everyone makes her out to be, yes I know. I also know that she really has no friends amongst the Fighters. At least this way, she can, if she is successful of course, earn the respect of some of her fellows.”
“And what happens if I get caught? What happens if someone finds out that I am a Fighter spy?” Alicia asked, recalling the stories that her mother had been telling her for many years. She had no interest in facing the Bureau’s interrogation methods – or execution methods.
“We hope that you won’t,” one of the other senior Fighters said. That is why we want you to go and blend in with the citizens before we have to start placing false information about your background.”
“We will give you the training that we anticipate you will need, and information on where you can leave reports for us and so on, but there will still be an inherent danger.”
“ ‘Inherent Danger’? I like that. It’s a nice – what is the word that you taught us, mummy? Euphemism?” Alicia said. “Why aren’t you standing up for me?” she demanded of her mother.
“I already have. The other Leaders believe that it should be your choice. I do agree with them, that if it is to happen, it must happen soon, however,” Amanda said, but she would not look Alicia in the eye.
“If it makes any difference, it means that you will not have to deal with any of your class mates again – well, until you return to us anyway,” Alan said. “Especially a certain Cameron Lucas.”
“That would be a bonus,” Alicia muttered. “Can I think about it? I will give you my descision tomorrow.”
“That is fair enough. Remember, knowing how much you like the legends of the first Fighters, this will be a mission to rival nearly anything that they ever did,” Alan said before he left the room.
The other Leaders filed out of the room, until only Alicia and Amanda were left in there. “You do not have to do this, Ali. We can smooth things over with Cameron – keep the pair of you separated if need be.”
“You didn’t say any of that in front of the other Leaders.” Alicia was sulking, and she knew it, but she was not going to do anything about changing her behaviour. To complete a mission such as this – to gain a reputation that would be written into the histories of the Fighters whether she completed it successfully or not. She would be one of the great Fighters, remembered forever for her devotion to her cause. It would certainly make Cameron sit up and realise that she was not just a blonde ‘bimbo’. He would soon know without a doubt that she was one of the greatest fighters.
Amanda noticed the look on her daughter’s face and shook her head. “You’re not going to … I forbid you to. It is too dangerous for you to be out there,” she said, hugging her daughter. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ve already lost your father to the ‘hunters. It is not right that I lose you as well.”
“I will not be lost, mummy. I will be triumphant. The ‘hunters won’t know what hit them. I’ll infiltrate them to their highest level, and they will be none the wiser,” Alicia said. “Dad was taken by the ‘hunters doing what he loved – standing up for his beliefs and defending his family. He was one of the few people who have not cowed back – who have not renounced their beliefs when they faced the gallows of the firing squad in a vain attempt to save their own lives.”
Amanda let go of her daughter and stood back from her. What had turned her little girl into such a calculating almost young woman? Had it been her fault? Had she, in her mourning of Chris, ignored her daughter and caused this independent streak to develop? Had it been her retelling of the stories about the early Fighters that had given her little Alicia the will and want to fly her nest and prove herself?
“Mummy, someday, I’m going to be just like Madeline Derwent – I’m going to hassle the Alliance like they have never seen – and I am going to revenge daddy. I’m going to bring about the fall of the Alliance.” Amanda blinked back tears as she remembered the fateful day that they had heard of Chris’ capture and execution. Alicia had not cried, at least she had not cried where anyone else could see her. All she had done was make that simple statement. Had Alicia and Alan been planning this? No, they couldn’t have. Alan had no known about that simple statement that an eight-year-old Ali had made.
“There is nothing that will convince you otherwise?” Amanda asked.
“No. Mummy you should be happy for me. That I have made a decision and I will abide by it. Your grandchildren will have a relative that they can prove they were related to, and be proud of.”
“My grand-…” Amanda fainted.

Amanda was unconscious for three days. The Fighters’ medic said that it was shock and denial that had done it to her. “She needs rest, and no suprises for a while. No shocks – no discussion of the fact that young Ali has left the camp,” he said when Alan came to the bunker that served as the camp’s infirmary as soon as he had heard that his daughter in law had woken up. “Just pretend that everything is as it was before, although I do not know what to tell her if she asks after Alicia. Avoid the question if at all possible. Change the subject. Just do whatever you can to avoid causing a relapse.”
Alan nodded. After Amanda had fainted, Alicia had raced to the infirmary and gotten medical help for her mother, and then run through the tunnels looking for Alan. It did not take much to organise how she could get in contact with the Fighters again, but they were to hear nothing from her until she was well settled in amongst the citizens, if not until she was within the Bureau itself. Alan had spent the rest of the afternoon explain the way of life that the citizens led, and giving locations for her to memorise if she needed shelter from the ‘hunters. She had not left the camp empty handed. Held in a woollen blanket, that had been brought to the camp by a citizen who had joined them, was a spare change of clothes in the style worn by the citizens and a small amount of food – nothing more than it should take to get to the citizens’ residences.
They had planned out a background story. She was the youngest child of a couple who had been living in one of the far northern areas of Brisbaneton, and her parents had died of pneumonia. As the only survivor of her family, she had been deemed unlucky and had been chased out of the area. The biggest danger for her would be accidentally slipping up on the fact that she could read, but Alan had faith in his granddaughter – both in that she could manage this assignment, and that she would exact the perfect amount of revenge against the Austro-Americas Alliance and the Bureau of Historical Investigations for the murder of Chris.
“Alan? Is that you?” Amanda’s said, her voice much fainter than it had once been.
“Yes, its me. How are you feeling?” He sat down on one of the stools at the edge of her bed and held her hand.
“Like I’ve been chewed up by a ‘hunter and then spat out again. The medic says that it was just stress though, and that I should be as right as a rainbow again soon,” she said, with the barest trace of humour in her voice. “Have you seen Ali anywhere? I would have thought that she’d visit me. Did I do something wrong to her?”
“No, Amanda, no, you didn’t. Ali has only just left here after nearly two days vigil at your bedside. She needed to get some sleep, so I sent her away.” Alan was mentally kicking himself. He was not exactly lying, but it was nowhere near the truth either. Alicia had been around the camp for a day and a bit after Amanda had fainted, and he had sent her away.
“I want to see her. I must apologise for what I said. I didn’t meant to be so selfish. I was thinking of myself, I wasn’t following the lessons that I teach. Alan, what have I done?” Amanda started to cry and Peter, the medic, came over to her bed.
“What did you say to her?” he asked and then without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Whatever you said, I think that you will have to leave now. I do not want to risk her relapsing and causing more damage than good to herself as soon as she has woken up.”
Alan nodded and walked out of the bunker. He waited in the tunnel for Peter to come out again. “I should not have lied to her,” he said, accepting the flask that Peter handed to him. “I should have told her that Ali has left us.” Alan coughed because the spirit that the flask contained was more potent that any that he had known the younger man to produce.
“No, you did the right thing for her sanity,” Peter replied grinning at the expression on Alan’s face. “Like I keep saying, the last thing that we need is for her to relapse. Do you like my latest experiment?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle himself. “I found the recipe scribbled in the back of one of the drinks manuals that Garth’s team brought back from their latest raid.”
“It’s,” Alan coughed a little, trying to get some feeling back into his throat. “It is most certainly the strongest stuff that you have brewed to date. I hope that you are using it for therapeutic purposes only.”
“Of course. Relaxation is therapeutic,” Peter said. “I hope that you did the right thing, sending Ali off like that. She barely has any of the knowledge a true citizen street child would have. And you know how well she makes new friends.” Pete offered the flask to Alan once again.
Alan took it and took another swig. He coughed. “I think I liked your previous batch better,” he said as he passed the flask back to Peter. “As for Alicia. I have confidence in her. She is very intelligent, not matter what lies young Lucas has passed around about her. And with the right sequence of events, she could make herself known to the Bureau within three weeks.”
“You mean if one of us was to purposefully get caught – and somehow involve her in it? Making it look like she ‘assissted in the arrest of a seditious individual’? I cannot think of anyone who would do that though.”
“I can,” Alan said. “What was the rule that children used to play by way back when? ‘Who ever suggests it, is it’? She is my granddaughter. I have to be the one to do it.”
“Alan, you can’t. Do you not see? You are needed here – you are needed to run the Fighters – we have no-one else with the training to do it. Surely there is someone else…”
“You said yourself that there would be no-one else who would be likely to volunteer.” Alan was staring into space, not quite focusing on the far wall of the tunnel.
“Al, then think about Amanda. It is going to be bad enough when she finds out that Alicia has gone, but to not have you there to explain why? I think that would be too much for her. Please, do not do what you are thinking.” Peter put the lid back on the flask and tucked it back into the pocket of the battered overcoat that he wore.
Alan frowned. When he had Chris had been taken by the ‘hunters, he had nearly abandoned the Fighters to go and take revenge on them – or try to rescue his son before they executed him. It had been Alicia that had made him change his mind. Amanda had had a break down then, too. The eight-year-old Alicia had needed someone to care for her, and the job had fallen to Alan. Then he had felt responsible towards Amanda, as he had been the one to authorise the more dangerous than usual mission that had got Chris caught, and had truly begun to treat her like she was his own daughter. He sat down hurriedly.
“What have I done?” he asked. “I may never see my granddaughter again – Amanda may never see her daughter again…”
“So, now you realise what you’ve done?” Peter offered his hand to Alan and pulled the older man to his feet again. “It won’t do to have some of those who do not like your leadership see you show this sort of weakness. You have made the decision and you must stick by it. It would be even more dangerous for you to go and try to get her to come back.” Peter ushered Alan back into the infirmary bunker, and checked that Amanda was asleep again before continuing. “I have known you for most of my life – you were the one who had me picked out as a future medic when I was only four years old. I don’t think that I’ve ever actually thanked you for that. During that time, I have only known you to make two impetuous decisions; the mission that resulted in Chris being captured, and this one. No, don’t say anything yet. In my honest opinion, no matter what the result is, I believe that you have made the right choices here. We have needed to get someone into the Bureau for some time. Alicia has the temperament to commit to something like this. All that I hope, is that she is not found out before she has a chance to properly establish herself.”
Alan closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself down before he responded. He knew where Peter was coming from. There were several people who thought that they could do a better job than he had of leading the Fighters and organising the raids. There were several others who thought that they should stop concentrating on skirmishes with the Alliance and try and find the Fighters’ original campsite and the library bunker contained therein. That’s the problem with leadership, he thought to himself, there is always someone who wants to criticize.
“Thank-you, Peter, I have always valued your opinion.” He clasped the younger man on the shoulder and walked out of the room.

Enjoy :)

NaNoWriMo is here :)

2006-11-01T01:14:39Z

And here is the first installment of my story:

CHAPTER ONE

“The Bureau of Historical Investigations Headquarters, Brisbaneton Chapter, Australia was situated on the south side of the Brisbanton River in a series of buildings that had once been a museum, art gallery and the Queensland State Library. Its founder, a Mr. Andrew Reynolds, found the idea of using such centres of learning as his headquarters ironic.

“The Bureau was founded in 2028 under a proposal to the Alliance by Reynolds that libraries and other learning centres were meeting places for htose of seditious thoughts against the Alliance. He raided the art gallery, museum and State Library with no warning to those working there. The art gallery and museum were taken immediately, but the librarians and volunteers on duty in the library managed to get word of the attack and barricaded themselves in just in time. They managed to hold out for nearly a week.

“They were overrun when one of the younger volunteers opened the door to the ‘hunters in exchange for his life and freedom. Reynolds executed the ignorant youth himself a week later, after making sure that the young man knew what he had done.

“The Bureau destroyed all the books there after painstakingly making their way through the catalogue and checking that there were no missing books. Citizens managed to get word of this destruction and started to acquire and hide books from their local libraries. The Bureau soon got word of this and began to take over the local libraries. Any missing books were tracked down and the people who had hidden them were executed as seditioners.

“However, there were several dozen people who decided that the bookhunters should be opposed and they form what we now know as ‘The Freedom of Knowledge Fighters’. The fighters began to gather books from the libraries and spirit them away to their base camp; an underground warren of bunkers and tunnels in the hills behind Brisbanton.

“Since then, the Freedom of knowledge fighters have been opposing the Alliance and the Bureau, hoping that one day, the Alliance wil be overthrown and Citizens can once again begin to learn what they should know and return human civilisation to the heights that it had attained before 2028.”

Amanda smiled at the rapt faces of the children who were sitting before her. These were the children who would become their next generation of Fighters. They always loved to hear the stories of the ‘hunters and the histories of the Fighters. Amanda wondered whether this was how the teachers of old had felt before the take over by the Alliance. To pass on the knowledge that she had amassed in her life gave her a thrill. Her gaze fell on two children who were starting to argue over something. One of them was her own daughter.

“Alicia, Cameron, what are you arguing about?” She demanded. The pair were often fighting. So much so that most of the adult fighters thought that they would make a fine Paring when they were old enough. However, although Alicia and Cameron were amongst the oldest in the small class, they were a good way off being counted as adults in the Fighter society.

“Cameron doesn’t believe that we’re descended from Madeline Derwent, mummy. He doesn’t believe in her diary neither,” Alicia said.

“Of course I don’t. How could you be – Madeline was smart. You’re not. And how could we have lost something as important as her diary? Surely your family would have kept it for all of the Fighters to see and read.” Cameron said, displaying the reason why he was starting to be groomed as a raid leader. The boy was shrewd, logical and straightforward, and he never did anything without thoroughly thinking it over first.

Alicia punched Cameron at the slander of her intelligence and the argument degenerated into a fist fight. Amanda sighed. It was this behaviour that made her wonder exactly what assignments could be trusted to her daughter. They were related to Madeline Derwent – being sixth and seventh generation Fighters. As for the diary – Amanda had an idea where it was buried, but the problem was, that they had lost the landmarks that could lead seekers back to the location of the old library bunker.

“Children!” Amanda said, standing up and walking over to Alicia and Cameron. “Fighting amongst ourselves? Is this the way that we can defeat the Alliance all of a sudden? ‘United we stand –‘”

“ ‘Until the fall of the Alliance’,” the class chorused the second half of the Fighters’ motto.
“What will happen if we do not stand united?” she demanded of a red-haired girl. This was a class that was drilled into the students as soon as they were deemed old enough to start memorising. It was an old and tried method to remind them that no matter what their personal differences, they must work as a team if the Fighters were going to have any affect on the Alliance.

“We- we will fall. The Alliance will defeat us, because we cannot stand strong on our own.”

“What is the strongest link in a team?”

“We are, miss. The next generation must link into the larger chain and continue the work of our forbearers,”

“Cameron, if we are a metal chain, what can corrode our linking – our friendship and our workings?”

“Dissent and fighting is what the lesson says, miss, but what about other things? Like trusting your team mates too much – trusting that they will support you in a tight situation? Like what that volunteer librarian did during the Bureau’s takeover of the library. His work mates – his team were trusting each other with their lives – and the lives of all the books in the library. He betrayed them.”

“I’d be worried about that too,” Alicia added. “Especially if I was out in the field with you, Cameron. You always see the dark side of things. Always worried that people don’t trust you, always more worried about your own skin than about that of your team mates. At the least you could pretend to show some concern for your fellows.”

“At least I’m not a blonde bimbo without two braincells to knock together. At least I think about what I’m being taught, rather than lapping up whatever is placed in front of me. You might as well be a citizen, Ali, you do about just as much thinking as they do.”

“CAMERON!” Amanda said, before Alicia launched another attack on the boy. To call a fellow fighter a citizen was the heaviest insult that one could say. “That is enough. For all that you think, you do not know enough to start labelling your fellows as citizens. Perhaps it is your sympathies that lie with the Alliance – maybe you are trying to undermine all that we have worked for.” Cameron opened his mouth to counter that. “No, don’t say anything. I haven’t finished talking to you all yet. You all have you strengths, you all have your weaknesses. You all need to learn to work as a team. I can remember my class group – we had exactly the same problem until Alan decided that he wasn’t going to teach us any more until we could resolve our differences. Is that what I have to do with you? Suspend this class so that none of you can learn until you and Alicia can resolve your differences.”

“No, mum.”

“No, miss.”

The pair responded in unison and then promptly glared at each other. The thought of working together repulsed the other. Amanda knew that it would be some time before the pair would grow up and realise that they were not all that different.

“Class is dismissed for now. You may all go – except for you pair.” She pointed to the two eldest children in the class, Jason and Mary.

The rest of the class filed out of the bunker and headed for the large cave that the Fighters’ camp was based around. Amanda looked at the two children standing in front of her. Jason was destined to be groomed as the Leader of the Fighters. He could always see every side of the argument. Mary was always with him, and would most likely be trained as librarian, taking care of the small collection of ancient tomes that the fighters had amassed since the loss of their first base camp.

“I want you opinions,” Amanda said simply. “I am at a loss to know what to do with that pair. Alan has asked me to put the question to you, since you will be the ones who must deal with the pair of them when they are old enough to start participating fully in raids and missions.”
Jason thought for a moment before answering. “I know that you have me pinned for Leader, once I am old enough, and if I had to choose someone to be missions leader, it would be Cameron. For all that he can be an annoying and obnoxious prick, he has the right personality.”

“Remember most people grow up from his age on.”

“Yes, but you start the training early. Especially for someone you want in charge of leading and organising raids. As for Alicia… I do not know what would suit her.”

“I can think of something, but I don’t think you’re going to like it, Amanda,” Mary said, and Amanda knew what was coming. She had often thought that it was the only thing that Alicia would be good at, but it was far too dangerous for her little girl. “I would trust her as an agent – undercover in the Bureau. She is capable of absorbing most knowledge and behaviour that is shown to her. It wouldn’t surprise me, that with the right screening results, we could get her into a fairly high position. Except -”

“Except to get that kind of clearance, she would have to go and live amongst the citizens, and be very careful about what she said, who she socialised with, what she did,” Amanda finished the sentence off for Mary. “Can I do that to my daughter? My daughter who is barely ten years old?”

“Ultimately it would be up to Alan, wouldn’t it? Since he is the one who would have to plant all the information about her from the tens years of records that are missing.”

“No, there are no missing records. The survival rate amongst the children of citizens has dropped so low, that the Alliance is not interested in them until their twelfth birthday. But she would have to leave soon, and live on the streets…” Alan Turner entered the bunker. “I’ve been thinking about the problems she presents too, Amanda, and I really do think that this is the best thing for her to do.”

“Alan! I didn’t know that you were nearby,” Amanda turned to face her father-in-law. “She doesn’t present ‘problems’, she just doesn’t really fit in with her class.” Amanda recognised the look on Alan’s face. “You would exile your granddaughter? You would send her to live a life that is essentially the lowest form of being?”

“It is the well-being of the rest of the Fighters here that I think of, not just that of my own family. We have wanted to get someone into the Bureau for generations now. I truly think that she will do a good job of it. Where is she?”

“Why? So that you can kick her out of the camp today?” Amanda had known this day would come, but she did not want to believe that it had come so soon. “To the best of my knowledge, she went to the central cave with the rest of the students.”

Alan nodded. “Mary, can you please bring her back here. I feel that this is something that we need to discuss with all of those concerned.”

The red-haired teenager nodded and ran off through the tunnels. She glanced into every cavern that she passed. Each one had been carved out of the rock by hand, and shored up with wood to try and prevent cave-ins. There was no organisation to the directions that the tunnels went in – they had been forced to follow the most stable path, as materials to shore the roof up were hard to come by. They couldn’t take too many trees from the surface, as the ‘hunters would notice there were trees missing. The central cave was the only natural feature in the entire complex. Or it was believed to have been natural anyway. It had been kept as it was, to provide a recreation area for the Fighters, and it also had the only exit to the surface hidden in its walls.
And rember, I won't post any more unless I get comments :p

NaNoWriMo is almost here...

2006-10-29T20:04:54Z

Ok, so I've finally made up my mind that my NaNo story is going to be posted here :) Under cuts of course. Be warned, however, that there will be little to no editing done on it myself - not until the end of November anyway, and it probably won't be posted here.

However, I think in order to... encourage more story to be posted. I'm going to request that people post comments :p :).

So, it starts on Wednesday - 50000 words in (less than) one month for me (stupid exams).

Oh also - other people - join up :) The more people doing it that you know, the more fun it is :D

Benaedin's Promise

2006-09-08T10:46:55Z

So this is basically a story idea that I have been working on since I was about 13. Its morphed and changed and grown almost a life of its own since then. It details the usual fantasy ideals of a prophecy to be fulfilled. Enjoy!

Prologue
nodded and took the woman’s hand. To his surprise the unknown woman had a grip that rivalled his own for strength. The palms of her hand bore slight calluses, as if she had once used them often,. The woman shifted her grip at one of the contractions and gripped Caran’s wrist. It was less of a surprise for him to notice that her forearms were well muscled. Caran shifted his gaze from her hands and arms to her face. She reminded him of one of the ducal lines, but he could not think of which one.

Five hours later, the woman’s ordeal was over and the babe was born. He was small and bore some resemblance to his mother.. His skin colour, however showed that his father was not of the usual Wallalutean stock.

Sarae cut the umbilical cord and gave the child to the woman. “He is small, Lady, but he will live,” she said. The woman was smiling, but experience told Sarae that she was very tired.
“Thank-you,” the woman said, her accent telling of her origins in one of the southern Duchies. “What of me?” she continued, sounding worried, as if she thought that something might have gone wrong with the birth.

“This is your first child, is it not, my Lady?” Sarae asked. She had finally pinned the accent and look of the lady to a name.

“Please, no ‘my Lady’s. I do not deserve them. I am just a simple traveller. – a simple stupid and once idealistic girl.” She said the last word with contempt and Sarae suddenly noticed that she would have been no more than eighteen summers old.

“Very well,” Sarae said. “Get some rest. You need, and you deserve it. We can talk some more when you wake again.” Sarae moved to take the boy-child.

“No, Aedin must stay with me,” the woman said, hugging the boy closer to her.
Sarae nodded, the name that the lady had given the boy just confirmed the identity of his mother. Although the reward for finding, rescuing and returning her to the King was substantial, Sarae decided it would be best if the girl recovered for a while before she returned to the world of intrigue that was the Wallalutean Court.

Six months passed and the Lady decided that it was time for her to return to the civilisation that needed her, and the world that she had grown up in. She had been born of the Mildthryth family, and was – or had once been – a Shieldmistress and Journeymage of Wallalute, Heir to the Mildthryth Duchy and betrothed to Elan of Amogin, King of Wallalute.

She had been captured by several Pancruti nigoras, while on her first patrol near Silver Vale. She had been held captive for three years. During that time, she had been courted by the Emperor of Pancruti. She had resisted most of his advances with the help of fellow captive, Ratan, a Billantan mage.

Unfortunately when the Emperor found out about their friendship, he had Ratan sent to a far corner of the Empire and she had never heard of him again. After that she had tried to escape several times. Each attempt had been more unsuccessful than the last and following each one, one of the privileges that the Emperor had granted her was taken off her. In the end she was left a prisoner in long and cumbersome gowns and was confined to the Emperor’s quarters. He then proceeded to rape her several times, until her was sure that she was pregnant. The Emperor had been determined to get his child on her.

The early weeks of the pregnancy had been hell for her. She felt sick constantly and there were a few moments where she had considered forfeiting the child, but something had always stayed her hand and will. Once she stopped feeling overly sick all day, she began to formulate an escape. Her plan was simple, get a weapon and just try to walk out of there. It had worked surprisingly well and she was half a day’s walk out of the city before she heard the alarm bells start to ring. She still did not know how she had avoided all the patrols that the Emperor sent out after her, but five months later she had arrived at the forester’s log cabin in the painful throes of labour.

In the time that had passed while staying with the foresters, she had learnt some of their trade and in return she had told them some of her story. She had no plans to take the child back to the Wallalutean capital of Minatol, to be sneered at, and pitied, because she had been a potential Shieldmaiden who had been unable to defend herself. It would be even worse for the child. Yessica and Caran had agreed to raise the boy as if he was one of their own and so she had started to make plans to return to the world that she had once known best.
It would not take long, as she could use the transportation spell that she had been taught not long after her parents had been killed by raiders. The spell made transportation nearly instantaneous, and she was the only mage in the realm powerful enough to use it over long distances.

She left at dawn the one morning, six months to the day after she had arrived at the cabin. The most the foresters ever heard of her after that was the legend that she created; the legend of Benaedin’s Promise.

CHAPTER ONE

“Mark my words, Ronir, traitor of Wallalute, with the Powers here as my witnesses, the next of my line with my Talents, will be your downfall…”

The words rang through Emeryc’s head, as if he was hearing them for the first time. Even after all the years that it had been since Benaedin, his Shield and Talent Mentor and friend, had been murdered by the traitorous Ronir, those words still held him. They had been her legendary last words before she had been sacrificed to the Dark Power so that Ronir could become immortal.

The Powers had not been the only ones to witness the crime. Emeryc and a young mage from a nearby village had also been there. Once the deed was done, the Powers had spirited the two boys away from the Dark Mage, back to the nearest village. Emeryc had been angry – so angry that he was just about to run back into the forest, but the Powers had stopped him. Finally he had given up and had uttered the words of his promise, “I will not rest until that traitor is dead,” and the Powers had accepted his word.

“We give you the gift of immortality, Emeryc of Goldwater. All we ask in return is that you watch for Benaedin’s Promise. Know that for as long as Ronir is alive, you will be also.” The Powers had responded and it was there that all of this had begun.

Mattaen, the young mage, had been included in it and Emeryc had been grateful for the younger boy’s company in the weeks that followed. Between them, and with a little help from the surviving member of the Ducal families, they set up two refuges for mages, after Ronir had started slaughtering anyone who exhibited the slightest signs of Talents in an attempt to prevent Benaedin’s Promise from being born. The refuges were underground; on in the west of the Realm, in the Goldwater Caves and another in the tunnels that had been formed around Wight Mountain in the north.

Not long after this had started, Emeryc had married Xara of Amogin, and Xara had taken his vows of revenge on Ronir. She had liked Benaedin, who would have become her sister in law, if Ronir had not killed her. The pair watched over Goldwater caves wile Mattaen looked after Wight Mountain.

Emeryc sighed and looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. It was a missive from Mattaen, containing grave news; news that Emeryc really did not want to hear that day, and that he had hoped never to hear. The last of the Mildthryth line had died in childbirth, and they had also lost the child.

Despite this, Emeryc still had a feeling that the time of Benaedin’s Promise was nigh, for only two months past, Xara had fallen pregnant with the couple’s first child in the one thousand or so years that they had been watching for the Promise and this was not from a lack of trying. Emeryc knew from Zoranne’s prophecy about these happenings that a child of his would assist Benaedin’s Promise, but now it seemed that if the timing was right, the child who would fulfil the Promise had just been lost.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Xara asked, moving aside the skin hanging that formed the door to Emeryc’s study-cave. Her belly was just starting to show beneath the loose comfortable clothing that she always wore.

“Yes, of course,” Emeryc said hurriedly, putting the letter down on his desk, but that would not fool his wife. She picked up the letter and read it. The shock of what it told her showed plainly on her face.

“So this has all been for nothing,” she said quietly. “All of this.”

“I don’t believe it,” Emeryc replied. “Not when descendants of all the old families are showing up and all at around the same age. It is too much of a coincidence.”

“Even so, if there is no Mildthryth child, then there is nothing that we can do.” Xara sighed. “Are you going to tell them?”

“No,” Emeryc replied. “The last thing that we need is a panic and a boycott of everything that we have worked to set up here over the years. I am sure that rumours will pass around, however careful we are though.”

“Is there any possibility at all that there is a Mildthryth child outside of the refuges?” Xara asked.

This was a possibility that they had both considered over the years, finding it hard to believe that Benaedin’s Promise would be come from her older brother’s line, rather than directly descended from Benaedin herself. However, as far as they knew, Benaedin had never given birth. Even if she had, the chances that its family had survived the purge that Ronir had released on the mages of Wallalute would be very slim.

During the first three years of his reign, Ronir had decided that every mage must be killed, so as to stop the prophecy and the Promise coming true. He did not care if there was no chance that an accused mage’s veins could contain blood of the Mildthryth line, to him any mage was a danger. They were rallying points for those commoners who did not like his rule, or the fact that he had allied Wallalute with the Pancruti Empire against their long-time allies, Teldhan and Billanta and he did not want any resistance to his way of ruling the once prosperous lands.

Every mage who revealed their powers was burnt at the stake, and their children, provided they showed no signes of Talents, became the first of the Worker class, destined to till the fields and do the general labour of the Realm. In time all of the population, except those in the army became part of the Worker class.

Those mages who had made it to the caves knew that outsiders still knew about the caves and the refuges that they housed, as from time to time travellers from the worker class showed up at the entrances, asking for a place among those living there.

“I do not know. Benaedin never told me of a child, although there were rumours that while she gave birth before she came back to Wallalute. She probably would have told Elan if it had happened. He never mentioned anything to you?”

“No. I guess it wasn’t a rumour that they wanted to confirm.” Xara smiled slightly at her husband. “You always had his ear more than I did. I think he became slightly suspicious of his siblings after the problems we had with Ronir. We were never that close.”

Emeryc nodded and frowned. Elan had never mentioned anything of the sort to him. He could only guess that Benaedin had not told Elan.

“I guess all that we can do is wait and watch. If this is the time, then it should all fall into place,” he said.

So what's this about?

2006-09-08T10:35:29Z

I like to write. Sometimes I even gain the courage to let other people read what I write - if I think its good enough and I can stand the inevitable critiques (I welcome suggestions, just sometimes ... I don't know). This is basically to a) help me gain more confidence in my writing, b) To share my writing with others and c) open the floor up for suggestions.

It also might encourage me to write more - and write faster.

Enjoy!