Silver's Stories

Just a spot to put my writings and whatnot. Active sporadically, I suppose.

[wearepaladin]

“You’re angry. Good. Anger can save you when everything else is gone.”

— Vivienne de Fer (via fyeahvivienne)

[thelovejournals]

This is the strange way of the world, that people who simply want to love are instead forced to become warriors.

Lauren Oliver, Requiem (via wordsnquotes)

[silvermarke-my-words]

Harrow’s Tale

This is Harrow’s main backstory. It doesn’t quite tell everything, but he doesn’t exactly know everything, either.

“Dwimberg. Harrow Dwimberg.” An interesting enough name, to the young man seated in front of the tavern’s fireplace. It wouldn’t draw attention, but it wasn’t so generic as to be boring. Harrow had quickly learned that not having a second name, a family’s name, was an anomaly among most people. Judging from the sneers of the others sat around him, however, the name alone wasn’t enough.

With a groan, one of the smaller men leaned forward, just far enough to light up half of his face. “Harrow, eh? Never heard that one ‘round these parts. Where’d you say you were from again, lad?”

“Lad? Lad? Are you hearing me, son?”

Harrow jumped, spooked out of his reverie when a hand landed on his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Pa. Thought I heard something, was all.” Harrow rubbed his eyes before brushing his hand through his hair, his mind coming back to the task at hand.

“Well, come on, lad. Make sure you’ve got all your supplies. We’ll be heading out tonight, after all.” His father smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly before heading on towards his own duties. With a sigh, Harrow turned and contemplated the pack he had laid on the ground, filled with almost all of his life’s possessions.

It had only been a day since they had received the news: the Keep had fallen. Harrow could hardly believe the speed with which his clan, his family, had moved. The Keep was several days’ travel away, and already their not inconsiderably large group would be on the move within the next few hours. Still, the chance of finding survivors would drop the longer they took, so it only made sense. This was their way of life that was at stake, after all.

Harrow leaned back, smiling, as he regarded everyone around him. Their eyes were still suspicious, but considerably less so compared to the first impressions. He was a perfectly friendly face, after all, even they couldn’t deny that.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Harrow answered the man’s question. “An unimportant place up north. Not noticeable enough to put on a map, let alone name.” At their disbelieving eyes, he added, “We’re a very isolated group up there, you must understand. Of course, the people that traveled that far north to found the village stayed there. We’ve never had too many people leave it, either, beautiful as the area is. And believe me, it is beauty. I’m surprised I made it this far, honestly.”

Harrow brought his hands up and behind his head, making himself comfortable as he continued to observe his audience. The man he had responded to leaned back, clearly satisfied with Harrow’s answer while the others regarded him with more interest and less suspicion.

“Fair enough,” the man to his immediate right took his turn to speak. “If this place is as nice as you say it is, why did you leave it, then?”

Harrow ran until his legs were on fire. Then he ran some more. His breath grew heavy, and for once, he was thankful. If he breathed hard and loud enough, maybe he could drown out the screaming from the village, from the home, he was leaving behind. They had just been about to leave when they heard the screeches, too unnatural to be any wild animal. They had never before had need for a watchman of any sort, and with the entire coven gathered together, there had been no chance of them having one now. No one had been prepared for the shadows that poured forth from the setting sun.

Now the sun was rising, and the screaming had died down. He was surprised he made it this far, and he didn’t even know if anyone else had escaped. His running slowed to a walk, his legs were on fire, but he forced himself to keep going. He didn’t know how fast those… those shadows were, but he refused to let them take him. Even if everyone else was gone, he had to keep going. If he was going to live, then he had to keep moving. The sun was high in the sky when he finally collapsed.

“I had to leave.” Harrow smiled as a drink was put in front of him. “I wouldn’t see the world if I didn’t, and, well, I couldn’t have that.”

“Ahhh.” One of the older men now. “Got that wanderlust in ya. Ya ever regret leaving? Miss your family at all?”

At this, Harrow looked down to his knees, somber. How long had it been now? Years, though he tried not to dwell on those events. It was better to look to the future, than to dwell on the past.

“No, I… I don’t regret leaving. If there’s one thing I don’t regret, it’s that.”

“And? What about the family? You saying it ain’t hard, a young man like yourself, traveling the world all alone?”

Late. All of the effort he put forth. The years he had spent building up a network of contacts, all to find the only family he had left, culminated in this day. Word had easily reached his ear of someone who knew about his mother, and his contacts were quick to ascertain both her general looks as well as her plans of travel. He had hoped to reach her destination before she did, both to make himself comfortable and to find out how dangerous this person could be. Instead, he had woken up to find the space next to him on his bed cold and empty, with the sun having already passed the horizon. Now he was running through streets and alleyways. If she was gone by the time he got there… well, he’d just have to pool his resources and find her again. He didn’t have time for patience, though. The sooner he found her, the sooner he could have a family again, something to return to after he finished his revenge.

He slowed to a walk as he neared his destination. Taking a moment to control his breathing, he stepped out into the crowded clearing. If he had arrived earlier, he might have had a chance to observe everyone that approached. As it was, Harrow resigned himself with having to make do. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had to make an approach in less than favorable circumstances.

It was a good few minutes, and Harrow was ready to call it a loss and move the next town; he’d get in contact with his informants and tell them that she got away, that they’d need to keep an eye out for her. Right as he was about to turn away, however, she caught his eye. His friends had outdone themselves, as she matched their description almost perfectly. There was an air of strength in the way she stood and walked, confidence in her interactions with others in the square. And she wasn’t alone, it seemed. Others were nearby, but not close enough to associate with each other. Still, they moved when she did, and it was hard to deny the danger inherent in them.

As he contemplated the best way to approach her, she surprised Harrow by walking up to him, allowing him to appreciate her beauty up close. And she was indeed beauty. It was, of course, in the middle of his musings when she started the conversation.

“Hello, brother.”

“...I’m your… you’re my… ah…” He had a sister. Specifically, the woman, about whom he was currently trying to extinguish the more unsavory thoughts, was his sister.

“Not completely alone, love.” Harrow shrugged nonchalantly, remembering Waverley. “I've made a few friends here and there.”

“Not enough to make them come with you, though?” One of the younger ones this time. “So you’re still alone, aren’t you?”

Harrow smirked, tilting his head at him. “Didn’t realize I was alone. I’ve got you, love, don’t I?”

While the younger man was left mumbling, the larger man stepped up to fill the void of non-conversation. “You’re past and… interests, are all well and good. That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” His suspicion had never went away, evidently. “Why did we find you snooping around the hallways here.”

It had been a hard-fought journey to get where he was. Not an entirely unpleasant one, though, Harrow thought to himself as he remembered his night with the intoxicating Lue. It was all worth it, though, as he stood in front of Moratus, his new teacher. He remembered making his way to Lazio and using Lue’s name to get to Fulmen. He had been turned away at first, Fulmen not even willing to give him the time of day. Moratus had seen his potential, and was willing to give him the abilities and powers needed to enact his revenge. And so there he stood, ready and willing to learn. Months passed under Moratus’s tutelage, and he learned quickly, though he didn’t know if that was thanks to Moratus or his own abilities. Finally, though, he was given his own lead.

“I’m searching for someone. For a friend, that is.” Harrow sat up straighter, taking a drink of his mug before continuing, “It’s a favor that benefits us. He’s been teaching me about the world, and in return I find this person for him. I managed to follow him to this town, but I lost the trail.” With a shrug, Harrow went back to his drink, not willing to say too much more.

“That sounds like assassin work…” Harrow wasn’t sure who had said it, it was whispered so quietly, but the effect on the atmosphere was palpable. The conversations all around the room ceased to a stop as the various patrons turned to look at Harrow’s own talks. Soon whispered accusations could be heard.

“Assassins are dirty work.”

“We don’t like killers here.”

“Which one of us is he gonna off.”

Perhaps it was time to leave. If he did it now, though, a few would doubtless follow his trail. There wasn’t much of a way for him to get out unscathed with these villagers working themselves up as much as they were now.

“He’s not bad. He’s just following someone, he never said he was an assassin.” The young one again. And one of the others got up to stand in front of him. It seemed he had been friendly enough to gain a few defenders. Soon enough, though, between the suspicion and the alcohol, the tension in the room exploded, and shouting soon turned into a brawl. Harrow took advantage of the chaos to slip out of the tavern unnoticed. Wiping himself down, he began making his way out of town. He had been telling the truth, after all. He had lost the trail of the person he was looking for, so there was no point in staying in the town. He had other leads to follow, after all.

He hadn’t gone too far when he found himself roughly pushed towards a wall. Instinctively, he reached for his crossbow, only to have it knocked out of his hand, soon finding himself pressed against the same wall. The smell of alcohol clearly let Harrow know who he was dealing with.

“I’m not, not just gonna let you get away with killing one of our own.” Harrow tried closing his nose, anything to keep as much of the smell of alcohol out as possible. “So ‘m gonna make sure you don’t get the chance to hit your mark.” The sharp sound of a knife reached his ears, and Harrow closed his eyes as the sound of blood filled the air.

Harrow doubled over from the blow to his gut, coughing as he tried to recover.

“First things cleared. We’re working together, but I do not like you, we are not friends, and I hold no sympathy for you.” With a grunt, Harrow tried to stand up straight, looking at the diuris with as much hate as he could muster. “Second, we need to both benefit from this alliance. If you can’t hold your weight, I will leave you to die. Loud talkers come a feather a dozen, and frankly, I don’t care if our boss took an interest in you. If you die, you die, and you get replaced.”

Finally, Harrow leaned on the nearby counter, taking the chance to finally catch his breath. “I don’t suppose you have a name to match that wonderful personality of yours, love?”

Before he could react, he found himself on the floor, though he at least expected a response of some kind this time around, as helpful as it was. “Third, you will not call me ‘love.’” The diuris stood over him, his weapons in hand. “I am Shrannik.”

Harrow grimaced as he wiped the blood off his face. He had planned to take a leisurely stroll out of the town. Now their suspicions would be, in the townspeople’s eyes, confirmed.

“I’m sure there were other ways to solve that.” He frowned, looking down at the dead body with distaste.

“The first could perhaps be not starting a bar brawl.” Shrannik turned away dismissively, wiping the blood off his blades before sheathing them. “I suppose we don’t have much of a chance of getting more info here.”

Harrow waved his hand dismissively as he began walking. “Relax, I’ve got more threads to follow. We should get away from this crime first.”

“We’ll find that Hunter fellow soon enough.”

[silvermarke-my-words]

A backstory I wrote for Michael Rosewell, a character I have in my friend’s D&D campaign

Michael never knew his father, gone before his birth without even a name to remember. For the longest time, it was just him and his mother. He would go to school and make friends, and she would struggle to eke out a basic life for the two of them. As far as a kid that didn't understand the struggle that the adult in his life was going through could go, he was happy and content. He was seven years old when his powers manifested. It was an argument, and a trivial one at that. But in the heat of things, Michael was just emotional enough for his powers to take form, causing his friend to get buried alive in a hole he had accidentally created. The resulting headache was strong enough to cause him to pass out not too long after, Luckily, the teachers were quick to respond, bringing him inside and unburying his friend, shaken but alive. When he woke up, he was confused and disoriented, his mother by his side and holding his hand comfortingly. When he asked what happened, she let him know that he wouldn't have to go to school anymore, and that she would do her best to teach him what he needed to know. When he asked if he could play with his friends later, she was silent. And so the years passed. His mother would try her best to teach him his curriculum, and Michael spent his free time learning about himself. While he lost some of his old friends, including the one he had accidentally buried, he gained several new ones as well. Many of them offered tidbits of advice and encouragement, while others gave him a listening ear. It was from them that he learned that he was an Esper, and that his powers were just as likely to be genetic as they were to be random happenstance. When he turned 13, Michael finally worked up the courage to ask his mother about their family. At first, he was given non-answers: I'm your family, everyone else isn't important, family is what you make of it. After weeks of prodding and poking, though, he was finally able to get a name out of her: Moratus. His father. She may have insisted on how he didn't matter, but just knowing his father's name filled Michael with what he assumed was closure. His mother had never shown signs of being an Esper; if it wasn't random, then Michael was sure that he had inherited his powers from his father. He could now move on from this, admittedly short, chapter of his life. Two years later his mother disappeared. Michael didn't notice it at first, when she didn't come home that night. It wasn't uncommon for her to be gone for days at a time. She'd usually let him know in advance, but he was confident in her ability to care for herself. She was his mother, after all. After a week, he started getting worried. Getting into contact with one of his friends, he borrowed a phone to try to call her. No answer. And with no idea of where she had gone, Michael had no idea what to do. A month later, and he was kicked out of the apartment, keeping only what he could fit into his backpack. His friends were more than happy to offer him shelter, and at first he was grateful; but he soon got restless. He needed to know what had happened to his parents. He had never thought much of his father being gone before he was born, but now his mother had disappeared, too. Grabbing all of his possessions, he headed out, eyes and ears open for any signs of a woman named Eliza. Or of a man named Moratus. He was eighteen years old when Rally found him starving, collapsed on the street. Rally and a few of the others had quickly helped him out, giving him food and letting him rest with them for a short while. He had left quickly after, only to be brought back as he reached setback after setback. He was in a different district, and he was way out of his element. Begrudgingly, he set his goals aside and went back to the friendliest people he'd met in the area. Now he tries to make the best of his situation, helping out Rally's group where he can and trying to pick up tabs on his parents in the meanwhile.

[silvermarke-my-words]

A Small Problem

This one was also a Christmas present, this time for my girlfriend.

On the outskirts of a small lake that went by many different names from many different nations there, was a small town that went by only one name due to its relative unimportance in the grand scheme of things. Even the leader of the nation to which this town belonged would oftentimes forget that it existed. Usually, this was good for the town, as many times its citizens wouldn’t have to worry about paying the taxes to the national rulers. Of course, with the good came the bad; and this particular problem for the town was very, very bad. A roving band of raiders had set their sights on the town. Of course, being so far away from the center of the nation as well as from other towns, they were unable to send word for help and soldiers before the raiders eventually attacked. Left with no choice, the men of the town armed themselves with whatever they could find in an attempt to defend themselves. Valiant though they were, the raiders slowly but steadily pushed them back, until the townsfolk were left with very little of the actual town from which to defend themselves. While the defenders were able to save quite a large number of people from being killed, their defense seemed to anger the raiders, who now seemed quite intent on simply destroying the town and the townsfolk with it. In the midst of all this chaos was a woman. Though one of the youngest adults in the town, she was still steadfast and determined.

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing while everyone loses their homes!” she shouted.

“Kolena, do not question me!” said the leader of the town, a position he had earned through virtue of being older than all the other men.

“Why can’t I go out and fight?” she asked.

“We need people to stay here and keep our people safe.”

Kolena was quiet for a long moment, before she finally responded, her teeth grit, “That’s what they’re doing out there, Sir Eltrik. If that’s your only reason, then I’m finding a weapon and saving this town.” At his lack of a response, Kolena smirked and left the building.

The town looked very much like the kind that people avoid. Fires ran rampant with a few houses already burned down. Many houses had holes in them, due to the skirmishes that had been happening. As Kolena made her way to the one of the last areas the defenders still held, she reflected on the last few days. The raiders had proved to be much more dangerous than your average vagabond carrying a club. Many of them had actual weapons, and they fought as if they had actually been trained. The only reason the defenders had lasted as long as they did was their knowledge of the town and its placement.

There must be a runaway knight in the group teaching them everything, she thought as she reached the group of defenders. They were happy to accept her and inform her of what had been happening; their situation had been getting bleak, and they were ready to accept whatever help they could get. It was just that Sir Eltrik wasn’t sending anyone to help. Still, their knowledge allowed them to cause just as much trouble for the raiders by repeatedly staging ambushes and getting to the best defensive areas in the town before the raiders could take it. They were at a point where one strong attack could finally end all these battles and decide a victor. Figuring out what the man was hinting at, Kolena asked when they would make their attack.

“We sent Lorrick out to find where they’re camping. They’re actually holin’ up in our own town, can you believe it? We’re ambushing when the moon starts setting.

***

Kolena stood ready to run in and attack. She held a sword in her hand, one of the prizes the defenders had managed to grab off one of the corpse of the raiders. Looking up, she could see their camp: a mass of sleeping bodies and a campfire in the middle.

“Good to know they’re still scared of sleeping in our houses, eh, Kolena?” one of the defenders next to her.

“It won’t be good until they’re scared of sleeping in our town,” she responded before she saw the first group of defenders rush in and catch the raiders’ lone watchman off guard. Their yells of defiance and anger caused the rest of the raiders to begin waking up. Many of them woke up pretty quickly, actually, but it was still late at night. There was no way they would be expecting the defenders to have split up into two groups.

A yell from her side of the camp caused Kolena to spring into action with the rest of her group. Needless to say, the raiders were even more surprised at the sudden attack coming from behind. Kolena and the person next to her quickly worked together to take down the first raider that came up. From there it quickly became a pattern of raising her sword to defend while her partner cut down the person that had the nerves to try to attack them. A sudden rush forward from the townsfolk around her gave her a moment’s respite. Looking around the battlefield, she saw a man near the campfire that made her shiver slightly. He was huge, at least a good head taller than any of the townsfolk. And judging from the group of raiders surrounding him and ready to fight anyone off, he was the leader of this group.

She quickly ran forward towards him, motioning for her partner to follow. She and several townsfolk from both sides of camp soon reached the center of it, causing the leader’s bodyguards to move forward and attack. A swing to the left, a block on the right, an overhead swing that luckily disarmed a raider that had tried to stab her partner. Turning around to swing at an enemy behind her, she found herself blocked by the large, armored man, his bodyguards now scattered. She quickly began swinging relentlessly at him, her partner and another defender at her sides to cover her open spots. He continued to block her attacks while responding with strikes of his own, but it was obvious that tiredness was getting to him. Suddenly, a simultaneous strike from her two partners beside her got through his defenses. Though his armor caused him to stay unharmed, they did manage to make him stumble backwards and onto the ground. Raising her sword upward, she swung downwards, ready to finally finish what these raiders had started.

She blinked once, then twice. A red blade had appeared out of nowhere to block her blow, along with the man by whom the blade was being held. A quick movement caused her sword to fly out of her hands. Two more movements and the townsfolk next to her were similarly disarmed. He took one step forward. Kolena raised her fists in retaliation.

“Stop, Haseera,” the man on the ground called out before the man with the blade could swing his sword, “We got what we needed. These villagers are more trouble than they’re worth, anyway. We’re leaving.” The swordsman, Haseera, paused for only the briefest of moments before turning around and helping his leader onto his feet. Just as soon as Haseera had appeared, he and the other man disappeared. When the raiders realized that their leader was gone, their confidence disappeared, leading to their retreat. And just like that, Kolena and the townsfolk had won the battle for their village.

[silvermarke-my-words]

Espionage

This was a Christmas present to @eyezehuhh that I wrote. Kind of a sequel to “The Firestorm and the Eye”.

It was dark in the forest, even with snow on the ground to reflect what little moonlight there was. For a person like Erasmus, this was perfect, considering the mission he was on. He and Kyrdre had decided it was finally time to end the nest of wraiths that had been plaguing the nearby town, but first, they needed to know just how large the place was. This was why Erasmus found himself traveling through the cold snowy landscape into a forest that most people wouldn’t even enter if they had a mercenary group protecting them. Why he had volunteered to go alone, he still couldn’t quite remember.

There it was, standing ominously among the trees. It wasn’t quite a castle, but it was much more than a normal building. It was a fortress of some kind, with a defensive tower in the middle of it all. If he could just reach that, it would be a simple case of looking down upon the rest of the area to get a good guess on how difficult clearing it out would be. Still, reaching the tower was something easier said than done. And for someone like Erasmus, it would be the perfect challenge for him.

A few minutes and a grappling hook later, he was slowly making his way up the outer wall. Between the grappling hook and the glyphs on his boots, walking up the wall was trivial. Stopping every few seconds to listen for the sounds of any passing patrol, he quickly made it to the top of the wall. What he saw when he reached the top filled him with dread. Even though he could see only a small part of the courtyard, what he could see was absolutely teeming with wraiths.

“Dammit, this was supposed to be easy,” Erasmus whispered to the air. A flicker of hope, though, stirred in his chest. If this was the only part of the courtyard that was filled like this, then there was a chance, just a chance, but a chance nonetheless, that he and Kyrdre could empty this place out. The small part in the back of his mind, though, told him that they would never have that much luck.

Quietly, he snuck along the wall and jumped down to a rooftop, making his way closer to that ever-present tower. If only this was something to be proud of. He wasn’t sneaking past humes, Diuris, or even Bestia. No, just wraiths, creatures that didn’t even know the concept of watching guard unless some sorcerer told them what it was. Poor guardsmen, and even poorer fighters, a single wraith was no match for all but the most inexperienced of fighters. Still, what they lacked in skill they more than made up for in ferocity and numbers. They didn’t care about staying alive, as long as they could satisfy their bloodlust. A group of them was a death sentence. Shaking his head, Erasmus focused on the task at hand. It would be no good for him to get caught because he was thinking about what would happen if he got caught.

The tower, tall and dark. He had finally reached it. Climbing to the top, however, would be too risky. He would need to find a window, and hope that there weren’t any wraiths within. Twenty feet, a missed step, a skipped heartbeat, and a sound of smashed glass later, he had made it through a window and into the tower. While he would have preferred a quieter method, the window seemed to have been stuck, almost completely, in place. For a brief moment, Erasmus wondered how old this place was. If the circumstances were different, he was sure that Kyrdre would’ve enjoyed learning about the history of this fortress. Still, the circumstances weren’t different, and he was almost done with his mission. The only way left to go was up.

A sidestep, a well-placed parry, and two swings of his weapon left two dead and dissolving wraiths in his wake. Lucky for him, it was just those two. They must have been the only ones close enough to hear him break open the window. At least, Erasmus hoped they were. From there, it was a trivial matter of simply walking up the stairs to the top. The stairs led him into a bare room, with two more doors leading out of it. Trying the first one, only to find it locked, he shrugged and made his way through the second door, walking onto a landing that granted him full view of the entire courtyard. Taking a brief moment to enjoy the moonlight, he looked down onto the rest of the fortress.

He froze, almost unable to process what he was seeing.

The entire courtyard, and even some buildings were completely enveloped in shadow. Wraiths swarmed and crowded every area they could, reaching from one wall to another. There was no way that he and Kyrdre could fight this many wraiths with only a handful of inexperienced townspeople to back them up. Simply put, this battle was lost, and to attempt to fight was a death sentence. Erasmus closed his eyes, thinking. On the other hand, though, they had already made a promise to the town, and leaving this place was a death sentence for anyone that stayed. Besides, Kyrdre would never abandon people in need. And as hopeless as the situation was, he couldn’t find himself doing it, either. As determination filled his body, he opened his eyes, uttering one final sentence.

“We’re gonna need more men.”

[silvermarke-my-words]

The Firestorm and the Eye

This is a story I wrote for @krogans-give-the-best-cuddles as a Christmas present to them.

Every legend, every hero, has to start somewhere. Before they can become friends of kings and saviors of the world, they must be a hero of their town. Before their deeds can be known in every realm, their names must first be mentioned by friends affected. Distressed children and awestruck adults must first tell tale of the hero’s original deeds. And so it was that two men, good friends, found themselves in a tavern, drinking and discussing one of the local heroes that had taken it upon themselves to defend the town.

“Well, Eirr, ya heard it yerself,” the first man said, “Vae wants volunteers to go with vaer and finally take care of that nest of wraiths that’s been plaguing us.”

The second man, Eirr, snorted before taking a long swig of his ale. “Still find it hard to believe that vae and vaer brother couldn’t take it down on their own. I sure hope you don’t plan on going with the two, Roland,” He finished, having just noticed the sword leaning on the first man’s chair.

“Eh heh, well… it’s just, you kno-“

“Out with it already!”

“The Firestorm, vae’s done so much to keep this town safe, ever since vae first showed up here. They both have, really, but…”

Eirr gave a soft smile in response, and when he spoke, it was a quiet voice, full of sympathy. “I know. Your sister would be dead had it not been for The Firestorm vaerself. But,” he continued before Roland could start, “you’re a baker. Do you even know how to use that sword?”

Roland stared down at the sword leaning on his chair, before looking back up at Eirr, fire in his eyes. “Ya know, vae’s been saying vaerself that we need to learn how to defend ourselves. Maybe vae’s willing to teach us. Wouldn’t it be something, learning how to fight from The Firestorm vaerself? Then we could finally be able to pick ourselves up! We could actually keep our nerves when the sun goes down!”

Eirr was at a loss for words. Here, in front of him, was a direct result of what having The Firestorm and The Eye did to people. The two warriors had confidence, and it was seeping into the townsfolk. Even he and his family had been able to get full night’s rests without him or his wife having to keep watch through the night. The two siblings had come bringing nothing but strength and protection, yet now they also provided confidence and hope. They had saved lives time and time again, and had asked for nothing more than a warm meal every now and again. People that had never before wielded a weapon were now more willing than ever to fight in order to protect their home. People that had been planning on leaving everything behind to go and find a safer town had been convinced to stay due to the actions of the two heroes. Maybe his young friend just wanted to repay them for all the good they had done.

After a long moment of silence, just as Roland was beginning to think that his friend wasn’t going to respond, Eirr opened his mouth. “Fine. You want to run into a suicidal battle against a cursed battlement where the only experienced fighters are The Firestorm and The Eye? Go ahead,” Eirr chuckled to himself as he saw Roland’s crestfallen look, before continuing, a smile on his face. “Just know that I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

[silvermarke-my-words]

An Afternoon Ride

A modern Terryal AU I wrote, mostly to practice doing dialogue.

“ABEL STUNNER! Get your butt out of that garden and come hang out with us! We’re going shopping!”

Sigh. Of course they would come get me on our day off. The first time school gets cancelled since the sun’s been out, and I don’t even get to finish these sunflowers. Still, I’d hate to take too long. If Starla was excited enough to raise her voice, then she definitely wasn’t patient enough to wait comfortably on my front lawn. With a grunt, I got up off my knees, leaving my garden and heading to the front of my house.

There they were, the elite of the school. At least, that’s what Eefren would call them, although I was never sure if he was mocking them or not when he said it. Still, they didn’t seem all that elite, once I got to know them. Sure, they had a lot of money, but it wasn’t exactly like they showed it off, although sometimes Starla would forget that not everyone had as much as her. Usually, she’d try to counteract that by buying things for them, which was how I got some of my gardening equipment. And clothes. The Powers, though, you wouldn’t know it unless you saw their mansion, and they weren’t exactly the type to invite you over. Sure, they were nice, and Matt was always hanging out with a few of his teammates at any given time, but they were more likely to take you out somewhere. Of course, Starla was the only person that ever complained about that.

As I crossed the corner of my house and made it to the front lawn, Starla confirmed my suspicions. Not even content to wait on her feet, she sat there on my family’s lawn, pulling out grass and throwing the blades in the air. I watched some of the pieces fall onto her blonde hair before looking up and seeing Boku leaning against her brother’s pickup, with Matt still sitting inside.

“Are you gonna stand there staring? The door’s unlocked, we’re all just waiting on you.” Boku was always straight to the point, ready to get moving to her next goal. It wasn’t that she didn’t like talking, but I don’t think she ever saw the point to it. Unless she was telling someone something important, she didn’t really speak much.

“Oh, come oooon, Boku. We have all day.” Starla threw her hands up exaggeratedly, letting a large handful of grass float back down. “I haven’t seen his parents in forever, and you know how much fun his mom is to be around.” Starla, though, was quite the opposite. She would happily flit from one thing to the next, willing to talk to, help out, or relax with whoever she happened to enjoy at the time. Several times, I’d seen her put aside her own plans just because something else seemed more fun. I always wondered just how she and Boku started dating, but they seemed like a good match for each other.

“Bring them along, if you want, but the pickup’s still running.” Her words might have been short, but there was a small smile playing on her lips, as if there was something else being said between the two. Between that and the overly dramatic groan that escaped Starla, I almost felt like they had planned this conversation, although I wasn’t sure what they wanted to get out of it. Any thoughts I might get out of that, though, were quickly left behind as Starla got up and hopped into the back of the pickup with Boku following after. I guess that left me to sit up front with Matt.

“Think we should pick up Eefren?” Starla asked, before bumping my seat with a knowing smile, “Or maybe we could get Risa~.”

I squirmed in my seat, struggling to find a way to comfortably look at my would-be matchmaker. “Risa’s… she’s helping Lach with some errands, I think. We could probably get Eefren, though.”

At this, Matt spoke up. “He’s at the library. Apparently he’s taking advantage of ‘being able to learn without all the annoyances.’ I’m not sure if he really knows how to relax.”

“Apparently, he doesn’t know how to speak positively about people, either.”

“Abel! He’s our friend, don’t be like that.” Starla leaned forward and reached around the seat to put a hand on my shoulder. She was quick to jump to his defense, or at least to keep me from talking badly about Eefren behind his back.

I relented with a sigh, and Starla smiled as she sat back into her seat. She was never too happy to see her friends angry with each other, even if Eefren and I only met through her in the first place. Still, she was always the first to put a stop to any disagreements that cropped up between the two of us. It would become a routine at times. I would say something, Eefren would give some sarcastic remark, I would rise to the challenge, then Starla would step in between us and end it before it could really begin. Then we’d continue on with the day. Eefren and I both knew where we stood with each other, so neither of us saw too much of a point in apologizing.

The next few minutes passed by in silence. It was a comfortable one, though, as Matt focused on the road and Starla played with her phone while Boku watched. It gave me some time to think, too. I had a good amount of my homework done. I didn’t have much to begin with, though. It wouldn’t take me too long to finish tending to the garden, either. I really did have a free day today, now that I thought about it.

“Attiki’s done really good on the team so far,” Matt spoke up. “The coach and I are considering moving him onto the junior varsity team.”

I smiled at that. Attiki had been one of my first friends when I moved here, and both of us had been outcasts in a way. Matt and Boku, though, had seen him in action, though, and they were quick to convince him to try out for Roland Lake High School’s football team, the Roland Lake Knights. I had considered trying out alongside him, and he had even helped me practice, but I had changed my mind at the last minute. Attiki successfully made it onto the team, much to Matt’s joy.

“That’s great! He looks really good when he’s out there playing on the field.” It felt weird, being proud of him. I didn’t raise him, and I didn’t help him get onto the team in any way, but I still felt proud of him all the same. Now he had his team, and I had… well, I had these guys. And I had Risa and Lach and Scarlett, too.

“Heeere we aaaaaare!” Starla almost sang as Matt pulled into the parking lot of the mall. Boku laughed as Starla playfully tried to push her out of the vehicle, faking her impatience, only to squeak in surprise as Boku suddenly pulled her out of the truck and spun her around. Matt easily took charge as he led them into the building, Abel smiling as he followed behind.

The year had been good so far, and he couldn’t wait to see what the rest of it would bring.

[silvermarke-my-words]

Eegost

Eegost’s thoughts on his place in the world.

Everything changes. You don’t notice it at first, none of us do. You have to take a step back. When you just breathe and look, that’s when you notice it. You just have to think about it. Marek calls it growing; Baretho says that it’s me opening my eyes, I think. Maxwell says it’s just the wear and tear of the world. Whatever you call it, it’s happening. You can’t stop it, really, but, I think, you can try to make it good. Still, that’s easier said than done. It’s even harder when we’re changing at the same time. It can get really complicated if you think about it too much. But you have to think about it, at least a little. After all, it’s one thing to sit back and notice that other things far away have changed. It can be unsettling to learn how different you’ve become.

 I’m not the same person I was back when everything fell apart, I know that much. It still keeps me up at night, sometimes. There was no way I could have saved them, but I still wish I hadn’t left them to die. It doesn’t matter what I thought of them when they were alive, I wish I could have saved them. I lost everything except for the clothes on my back that day. A few others escaped, too, and for a while I traveled with them. The families we came from, the wealth I used to have, none of that mattered anymore. I never mentioned that some of them had shown a hatred for my family; and they never mentioned that, as far as we knew, I was the last. We were all just focused on surviving. Even then, after all the towns and camps, we knew that this group wouldn’t last. It had already been happening slowly. People would stay at towns instead of travelling with us. Others died. Some disappeared. I don’t remember when I left, but I do remember waking up and seeing plains instead of people.

 The war had changed everyone. I could see Baretho’s tiredness, and everyone noticed Marek’s selflessness and his leadership. Even Max had changed; there was a different look in his eyes, but I could never figure out what it was. Fertauni says that I’m different, too. She says that I became confident, that I grew into the image the people had placed on me. I don’t think I had a choice. That northern campaign, seeing so many people die, trying to control something I didn’t even understand… and the way she looked at me. She was always comparing, thinking that I could be someone I wasn’t. I needed to prove that I was my own self, although, I had heard that he was a hero, too.

 I chose not to fight for an official title, in the end. I didn’t care for it. The people gave me their loyalty, and I was the last Fortson, after all. I made sure to fight for their happiness. Fertauni could handle everything else. There were still things I needed to learn, things that even Fertauni, with all her knowledge, couldn’t tell me. And if I’m to reach my full potential, if I am to truly become the hero that everyone thinks I am, then I need to never stop learning. I need to never stop practicing. I’ll continue to grow, I’ll continue to open my eyes. I’ll slow down the wear and tear that’s happening to this world. Marek gave me the strength to do it, and Max gave me the intellect to see how it could be done, but it was Baretho who taught me to be the person willing to make a difference.

[silvermarke-my-words]

Baretho

Baretho’s thoughts and opinions on the Silver Lion Conquest and his role in it.

Fire’s usefulness has almost no ends. That therein lies its power. And its danger. A small spark, easily unnoticed, can quickly become a ferocious inferno. I have heard people say that a fire in a forest can cause new things, plants, to grow, new life to sprout. But I have also seen fires destroy houses, towns. This nation, these towns, are so close to the forests and the woodlands, the line is so thin, so easy to look over. It can be easy to go from clearing space for more life, to pure destruction. And when I’m, we’re, you’re so close to that almost invisible line, it’s difficult to tell which side of it I’m- you’re on.

 Even after everything is over, it can be hard not to ask yourself if what you did was right. If I can truly justify the things that I’ve done. Was it truly for the good of others, or did I convince myself of that so that I could avenge my mother and sister. And yet, when I think of him, of what he had done, this anger and hatred resurfaces, as if I was seeing him face to face again. The same anger I would tell others to let go of, the same hatred that I tell my friends is unhealthy. But it so easily fuels me, even keeps me up when I would otherwise fall. Even in death, my father continues to affect me.

 But what is right? What is justice? How far can one go before he himself is a villain? How easily can my own actions be justified? My cause is heroic and good. Others have joined the Coalition of their own will, so surely I am in the right. But people also glare at us. The people of the towns as well as the soldiers we fight against. The people who have done no wrong choose to side against us, and because of that, my officers have ordered their soldiers to raise their weapons. Who is right, then? Our cause is just, but we bring even more war, more fighting, more bloodshed into these towns.

 I can almost see their breaths grow ragged and their hands tremble more as we get closer to the capital. Their faces don’t have to be seen for the rest of us to know that there is fear in their eyes. Do they question themselves as I question myself? Do they question me? There is an uneasiness about them. I wonder how far they would have come had it not been for the three officers that lead them. Would a wiser man have allowed these people, not even real soldiers, to have fought—to continue to fight—for so long? Perhaps before, when the sun allowed us to see more than blood and battlefields, I would have said yes. But now? Perhaps it would be better to order them to lay down their weapons and go back to the lives they had before. Some of them have lost both homes and families, though. To turn our backs on our goals after coming so far would be wrong.

 It is easier, much easier, to say what is wrong, and to explain why it is wrong. The larger difficulty lies in explaining why what I do is right, why it is fair and just, if it even is just. Regardless, I am no longer the only one that holds my goal. The soldiers, at times, seem to understand my end better than I do. Their determination and hope, the officers’ skill, my vision. War has changed us all, and I do not know if it’s for the better. After a battle, and in the darkness that surrounds me as I fall asleep, it can be easy to forget why we fight. I must remember what my goal is, for this war will bring about more good than could ever have happened to this country under its current ruler. Our steps grow heavier, but they become steadier as well. When it all ends, we will remember the fallen from all sides; but I will ensure that the future is even brighter, to make up for the lights that were lost.

[silvermarke-my-words]

First story/writing.

As far as he was concerned, his creation was the beginning of the world. His world. The only inhabitants were himself and his brother. And for the longest time, that was all that he needed. He didn’t have free reign of his world at first; his brother would always pull him back, though he noticed that his freedom increased with age. Eventually, he found that there were others in this world. His world. They were younger, though, younger than his brother, younger than himself. And they were idiots, always arguing. And it was so trivial. I want this. Then give me that. No, it belongs to me. It angered him. Just who were they? Those whose fighting threatened the beauty of this world. His world. No. They would not. He would stop it. And what could they do? They were too busy with each other to do anything about him. And he was stronger. That’s what he thought. He was wrong. Together they were strong. His brother stepped in, the oldest of them all. And so, they all stopped. They had to. His brother held strength. His brother held wisdom. They did not. He did not. There was no more fighting now. But things would change again. More people appeared. Even younger than those he had fought. But there were so many of them. He felt almost overwhelmed. It was too many for this world. His world. Then something happened. Someone appeared. A Trick. It was what was made. What was done. Who it was. A Trick. More fighting. He tried to avoid it. He found himself separated from his brother. He had to find his brother. Two sides. Perhaps if one was taken… More came. Different. Stronger than the others. Stronger than himself? He didn’t know. They ended the fighting. Not his brother. He fled. He was lost. Everything had changed. They had changed things. They had caused the change. There was once chaos and freedom. Now it was order. But only to keep them away. He soon found comfort in a friend. An enemy? It was an enemy. But not anymore. Aeroe. Aeroe sheltered him. Aeroe taught him. He taught Aeroe. Together they walked. But soon Aeroe stopped. He continued to walk. Still there would be fights. Two people died. More than two, but two people died. Later, a gathering. Then another fight. He grew weary, but he learned more. Joy sprang forth! His brother, at last! But different. He and his brother were one. Both weary. His brother was gone again. He walked. And he learned. This area was different. The fighting was persistent. The world was bigger. His world? The order was evident. Most under some. Children under mothers. All under one. He enjoyed it. There were things to watch. Still, it confused him. Even amongst this order, chaos and freedom could exist. How? It was as if no one was concerned with what happened before, so far away. Or perhaps only those with wings knew what had happened. Were these ones lesser? Lesser than his brother. Lesser than himself. But still worthy. He walked. He saw his brother again. His brother had news? No. His brother was curious. A cult. A place. Zephyr. His brother was gone. He was confused. Where was Zephyr? It didn’t matter. The world would tell him. He walked. The cult. It sounded interesting. But he knew nothing. He would learn. He hoped he would learn. He was almost there. Then another appeared. Another arrow. Airrow. Airrow seemed interesting. There would be more with the arrow than with the cult. The cult did pull him. But so did the arrow. A new friend. Someone to walk with. He would walk with the arrow. Airrow. After all, there was so much to see in the world. This world.