Fan Fics, Original Fiction, and Fantasy

Discussion in 'SciFi & Fantasy' started by CounslerCoffee, Mar 10, 2003.

  1. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    Have you made an internal chronology for the story? Or is that where the difficulty started? I usually find that lets me straighten out the complex stuff, for the few occasions when I write complex stuff.

    Character development can usually be difficult, but I've found a few things that can help. They're a little complicated and require effort, so it's only valuable if you're putting your energy into the story anyway, but it's kind of like this:

    Make sure you have a background for the character that's written down, and as involved as you are willing to make it. It doesn't matter if most of the background will never be exposited in the story, if you bear their background in mind it still shapes the way that you write about them. It's beneficial for the author to know far more about the story than they ever write. (Note: this amount of effort is not worth it for short stories like any that I've posted here, because the characters don't really change over the course of a short story.)

    On the other hand, make sure that all of the events which lead to the character's development are highly visible, either at the time they happen, or later in some kind of exposition. Tracing the development of a character can be difficult for the reader even without guesswork.

    Usually if you're really stuck for a way to demonstrate the changes in a character, they can take place in an expository discussion... although that's probably something you don't want to overuse. It really depends on the length of the story that you're writing.

    Oh, and when you make your internal chronology make sure it has "character development" events on it as well as "physical" events! They are equally important to the narrative and usually interact.
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  3. Gifted World Wanderer Registered Senior Member

    Yesh. You got it. Some very helpful tips there, and then the style, though really that's reader taste to some extent. I'll look for the forum, see how that works. I'm doign alot of what you think, really, I also have to figure out whether or not I want to try to fit this into my other, bigger plotline, and how.
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  5. Pollux V Ra Bless America Registered Senior Member

    Hey, you got it! I'm impressed.
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  7. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    I remembered the old Prometheus episode of the terrible Hercules cartoon. The funny thing about that episode was that the only person who could use the Promethean Torch was ol' Prometheus himself... so much for giving fire to humanity...
  8. Pollux V Ra Bless America Registered Senior Member

    I don't remember where I heard about it. I figured that fire was the key to establishing a civilization. Many cultures from across the world have stories similar to the one about Prometheus, that mankind does not create fire, but steals it from something else (JM Roberts thinks that it might have come from a meteor). The sequence in my story states that, against his will, man is giving up civilization. The short story is one of several in a series which eventually ends in the destruction of Earth.
  9. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    Do they involve the giver of fire being endlessly chewed by eagles?
  10. Pollux V Ra Bless America Registered Senior Member

    Maybe, I don't know. The only specific example he mentioned was the one of Prometheus.
  11. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    FIRE GIVER - By BigBlueHead

    Chapter 1: Beginning and Ending.

    The blue-feathered gryphon approached him. Chained to the rock as he was, seemingly helpless, he watched her movements. Almost diffidently, she reached the place of his confinement, hanging away from him.

    "May I?" She blinked her golden eyes, waiting. He spread his hands and looked away, signalling his indifference. She leaned in toward his belly, slicing him open with one claw carefully - almost delicately.

    As she began to nuzzle her beak into the resulting hole in his body, he suddenly clasped his chained arms about her, his teeth gripping her spine. In one tearing, crushing motion he broke her neck, the muscles of his jaws doing what his arms could not.

    The two lay still together, Prometheus chained to his rock, the gryphon twitching in the throes of death. Finally he cast the body aside with a toss of his head, watching it as it fell on the barren rock nearby. He pondered there, as he spit out a broken tooth and felt another grow in, and he watched the dead gryphon. Finally his voice came, talking to the empty sky.


    He shook his head.

    "I thought I got rid of blue."

    EDIT - title/author line.
  12. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    Chapter 2: Life

    Sarkak and her new child sailed down upon the rock of Prometheus at the peak of the island. The clear blue sky was filled with clouds and all was calm; peace was in the heart of the gryphon, and she swept her wings wide across the sweet winds of the day.

    Wulka followed in her slipstream, still clumsy in the air, and gratefully fell to earth behind her mother. Her tiny claws, still soft, made no noise on the stone.

    "Come forth now, child. Let him look at you." The mother swept her young one forward with a careless motion of her wing, and Wulka hopped and tumbled into a little pile of feathers in front of the man chained to the rock. Slowly, she looked up into his face.

    So that's what he looks like, she thought.

    He was vast, three times the size of her mother, who was the largest of the gryphons. His legs were long and bent with tiny clawless feet, folded underneath him, and with only the faintest suggestion of small, curly black feathers. His chest was strangely flat, his upper body narrow for his size.

    She noticed his wings! He would obviously never fly. Not only were his feathers barely there, but his fingers were deformed, terribly short - and there were only five of them! She stared, and then looked at her own wings, with six proper fingers - three short ones for touching and grasping, three long ones for flying - and her great long feathers, golden in the noonday sun.

    Finally, she looked back at him, not hearing the uncomfortable shifting of her mother behind her. His face was so strange and flat - he had no beak, and his eyes were dark, dark and glinting like the sky at night. All about his face were vast bunches of his feathers, the only place where he seemed to have any real number. She was still staring at him when he spoke.

    "Such eyes children have," he said to her, his deep voice like the gentle rumble of the sea. "Is this little Wulka? I had no idea she'd grown so quickly."

    Behind the little gryphon, her mother puffed up with pride. "Just learned to fly, she did. Quite good too, though not ready for her voyage yet." Her pride dimmed and she looked away. "I've brought her to take her first meal of you."

    "Of course, of course," came his rumbling voice. "No one wants to be a baby forever. Come here, little one."

    With a little boost from her mother, the tiny gryphon clambered up onto his thigh and raked his side with tiny, blunt talons. Unable to make an impression upon his skin, she looked up at them both, unsure what to do. Her mother helped, cutting a long tear in his side, and little Wulka thrust her head into his body through the cut, hungrily tearing out pieces of him and swallowing them. She ate as much as she could before the rent in his side began to close. She pulled, and fell backwards off of his leg to tumble on the rock.

    The two others watched her as she regained her footing and looked at them with mussed feathers and bloody face. She bowed to him, saying, "Thank you!"

    Prometheus smiled. "You will be big, like your mother, if you eat like that."

    "Come now," her mother told her. "Soon you'll be too tired and heavy to fly, so we need to take you home."

    The two gryphons, great and small, took wing and left Prometheus alone with his thoughts.
  13. Gifted World Wanderer Registered Senior Member

  14. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    Characterization was much stronger in this piece than the others. Did you do anything different when you wrote it? Or does this piece describe a more pivotal character?
  15. BigBlueHead Great Tealnoggin! Registered Senior Member

    Chapter 3 - Reflection

    The titan smiled at the noonday sun, as Wulka slept in his lap. The pain of each day - the feel of a hundred children tearing at his insides - had long ago become no more than the sting of the sun in his eyes. He was more than thankful for the presence of the gryphons, savage him though they did; he barely noticed. Rather, they were the only living things in this, the barren world of his punishment.

    A rocky island.
    The neverending sea.
    No living thing but they, and he.

    Long ago he had tried to kill them all, raging weakly against their depredations, all but useless in his chains. Still, their arrogance had led them to be careless, and he killed them one by one, until he was alone with the sun and sky. Untroubled.

    Zeus had come to him then, with a shake of his head.

    "The sentence of eternity is not yet served," the Father of the Gods had said. "What shall I do with one who kills his jailers, but cannot escape?"

    Zeus had leaned close to him, wrathful, beard crackling with sparks. "I need only hire more, sending them to you like children. How many more will you slaughter for your own comfort? Your long story of pain - and their own - will be unknown to them. You kill them in their innocence."

    "They are but wild animals, Zeus," he had said, his head high.

    "Thus were men!" The other god said, as he turned away. "And now men range far, and other animals are driven before them. Fire is their vanguard, fire their outrider, fire their messenger. As well had you given them the strength of my limbs, that they might run strong and free in the mud as I lay limp and boneless in Heaven!"

    Zeus turned back, with eyes suddenly blazing. "You went among those men, no more then beasts, and raised them above all others. Now have I cast you among the gryphons, greater beasts ever than men were, and you have nothing to give them but the bitter edge of your teeth. You have everything, Prometheus, and they are only starving children. Can you not give to them as you did to the human?"

    Prometheus had bowed his head and said nothing. When he had looked up again, the Father of the Gods was gone. In his place were a hundred gryphons who had screamed and fallen upon him, starving and brutish, making the world a place of red, tearing agony.

    How different it was now! Pain, when he felt it, was like a memory of childhood, and yet he still felt the rays of the sun, heard the wash of the waves, and felt the softness of Wulka's feathers as she leaned against him. He looked down as she stirred.

    "Didn't mean to fall asleep," she mumbled, as she blinked in the sun.

    "Don't worry," he answered her. "You'll be going on your journey soon, won't you?"

    "Mhm!" She nodded energetically. "That's why I gotta eat a lot."

    "'Have to', not 'gotta'." He shifted his chains slightly. "When you come back, be sure to tell me if you found anything."

    She nodded again, and both were silent in the light on the mountain.
  16. Gifted World Wanderer Registered Senior Member

    I tried to put more in this one, it's goign to be much longer, and as the last segment I did got such rave reviews, I figured on making it more readable. I was thinking of having it more stand-alone anyway, for a different project.
  17. daydream_believer Et in Arcadia Ego Registered Senior Member

    A/N - ok, this isn’t dragged out, it gets to the point, but that isn’t the end. Warnings; self mutilation, f/f and blood play, this is more fantasy with mad romance than anything else...but also angst...very innapropriate.....

    The girl lay sprawled over the polished marble floor, dark hair splayed out in all directions, covering her face. The effort to outrun a host of friends and relatives worried by her erratic behaviour had caused her to collapse but she was alone now. Breathing heavily, she looked around. The chamber she found herself in was huge, and cloaked in darkness. Feeble light from a pale moon ebbing through windows allowing shadows to elongate themselves around her. There was just enough light for her to do what she needed. So she removed the blade from the folds of her robe and eagerly pressed it against her skin. A thin dark line appeared as the blade easily parted the skin. She sighed in relief. She had needed this so badly, for so long. This wasn’t the first time she had released the pain this way, but the old scars had long since faded into her immortal skin over the centuries. She had tried to let the pain escape in other ways; by not eating, running until she collapsed, even by drinking poison. But this was the only way that could bring the release so effectively. When the pain becomes almost unbearably strong, even a slight lessening of it will feel like bliss. And this bliss was the only bliss she could feel. Building up the physical pain and feeling it slowly ebb away was like tasting heaven. And she needed that taste of heaven, though it was mere imitation, because she lived in hell. The blade was sharp and her creamy white skin yielded easily beneath it. She used the blade methodically, cutting equally sized lines at regular intervals along her pale arm. She knew that she was cutting more than she ever had, but it had been so long and she knew she would heal and, until then, a robe would hide the flaws. The physical flaws. She knew nothing could so easily cover the mental flaws. To cover those took painstakingly careful study of those who are normal, and their behaviour, and a diligent student such as she could use the infornation to recreate a meaningless veil to hide the hideously deformed creature beneath the mask. She finished her work with a shallow slice to either side of her neck and began to carefully lick her blood from the blade. This was always how she ended the calming ritual. So busy was she with the blade and the familiar taste of her own blood that she failed to notice the faint sound from the hallway. She only noticed when the door opened and a figure stood illuminated by the candle that they held in door way. She dropped the blade from her hand and covered her face with her hands, willing the figure away. Unsuccessfully. The figure in the doorway spoke,
    “ Tíressa, what are you doing?”. Tíressa knew that voice.
    It was hauntingly familiar. It’s owner was her dearest, oldest and closet friend. “Leave me, Sylath.” she whispered, silently begging her friend to come no closer.
    Sylath did not leave, instead she joined Tíressa on the floor and covered her with a comforting arm.
    “Tíressa, I know you’ve been cutting yourself again,” she whispered as she soothingly caressed the broken flesh on Tíressa’s arm.
    “You will never tell me why, will you?” she asked.
    Tíressa began crying again now, and Sylath gently coaxed the shuddering girl’s head onto her lap and stroked the silky dark hair, detecting traces of blood.
    “Tíressa, where have you been cutting? I can feel the blood in your hair, you haven’t been cutting your neck, have you? Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see you do that?”
    The last statement caused Tíressa’s to sob more hopelessly than before and the pitiful sobs racked at her, causing tears to fall silently down her own face.
    “Tíressa, please talk to me, please, I can’t stand to see you so upset, just tell me what it is that pains you so and I will fix it! I will do anything for you, but you have to tell me, please, anything, whatever it is, I can’t stand you keeping me out! If this goes on much longer, I’ll start cutting myself too...”
    She meant it as a threat to get a reaction from the sobbing girl, to make her speak, but the reaction was overpowering. Tíressa pushed Sylath onto the cold marble, covering Sylath’s body with her own, holding her wrists above her head and finally straddling the shocked girl.
    “Don’t ever scare me like that! If you ever cut your skin...if was because of me...nothing will ever have the right to cause you any pain, Sylath, you have to promise me that you will never, ever cut or harm yourself, if you cause yourself any pain, I will kill myself, I swear it! now promise, promise or I swear-”.
    “I promise, I promise” Sylath cried, “But why do you cut yourself and act as though I cannot? My flesh is of no more worth than yours, and you are happy to slice your own...”
    Tíressa had always been fiercely protective of her, since they were children, but she had never seen her so angry before.
    “You and your body are worth far more to me than my own body, I thought you knew that Sylath.”
    “I didn’t know...why?”
    “I can’t tell you”.
    Sylath struggled to release herself from Tíressa’s iron grip and enfolded the girl in her arms.
    “You never tell me why” she whispered, “but it’s the same reason you cut yourself, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” Tíressa whispered heavily into Sylath’s golden blonde hair, wondering why she couldn’t see the blatantly obvious answer. But Sylath couldn’t see, she was blinded by her own misconceptions, misconceptions that she had believed since before she could form them.
    “Why will you not tell me?” Sylath asked.
    “Is the answer not obvious to you? I thought my answers to your questions made it so.”
    A thought briefly crossed Sylath’s mind and she felt a sharp pang of hope, before stifling it. No, that shame was hers alone to suffer. No one else had ever or would ever such feelings, most certainly not Tíressa. Tíressa was not flawed as she was, although Tíressa seemed convinced she was in some way. Why couldn’t Tíressa see that it was she, Sylath, who was the flawed one, the imperfect one and that Tíressa was all that Sylath wanted to be.
    “ No, you’ll have to make it clearer, I’m not as clever as you are” Sylath said, believing every word.
    “No, you’re far more so” Tíressa whispered. “Of course you can’t see, you’re too innocent, you’d never even imagine the idea...”
    “Innocent? Tíressa, I have never been innocent. There is something inside me to horrible to think of that stripped me of that long ago.”
    “So you also have a secret?” Tíressa whispered, glad the bleeding in from her arm was slowing to a trickle, she didn’t need a break in concentration at a time like this.
    “ Yes, and it destroys me.” Sylath admitted.
    “But you’ve never cut yourself, it can’t be that bad!”
    “That’s not the only way to inflict pain on one’s self, Tíressa.”
    “You inflict pain on yourself! You can’t, I won’t allow it, you’ve got to stop, what are you doing? Nothing should ever hurt you! Tíressa’s grip around Sylath’s waist tightened, and she was so close to kissing Sylath, showing her just why she valued her so much, why she couldn’t allow any hurt to come to her, but she held back. As always.
    “I...I don’t eat. Very often. Only if I’m forced in public and then...I...get rid of the food. If I’m concentrating on that pain I can almost forget the other...”
    “That’s exactly why I cut myself! Tíressa whispered excitedly.
    “Please tell me why, Sylath.”
    “I feel something I shouldn’t for some on I shouldn’t...”
    “So do I!” Tíressa whispered, “who?”
    “Someone who doesn’t love themselves they way I love them...”
    “Sylath, cut the ambiguous pronouns, this person’s female, isn’t she?”
    “Yes.” Sylath whispered, blushing“So who is it that you care for Tíressa, for that is all you’ll get from me...”
    “You’ve guessed who it is”
    “I haven’t”
    “You have, and you’re right”
    “I’m not”
    “You are.”
    “Just tell me who!”
    Tíressa stopped suddenly and pulled back, eyes fixed on Sylath’s face, Sylath could see the still bleeding lines on her neck as Tíressa slowly and deliberately bent her head right by Sylath’s ear.
    “You” Tíressa whispered.
    The next thing Tíressa was aware of was being pushed onto the floor and being kissed by Sylath. Tíressa’s heart nearly stopped, she was now very sure just who Sylath loved. Sylath’s slender body was pressed so hard against her own that she could feel every delicate bone pressed against her skin, and could feel the thudding beat of Sylath’s heart against her own. Tíressa changed their position so she lay on top of Sylath and broke the kiss.
    “You love me don’t you?” she asked.
    Sylath nodded and Tíressa felt her soul with true bliss - not the pain induced kind to which she was accustomed. Sylath wriggled from under her and sat beside her, then she pressed her lips against the still bleeding cut on Tíressa’s neck. Tíressa cried out in pleasure, the gentle sensation of the other girl’s tongue on the wound was so good that she let out a small moan of pleasure. Sylath tasted Tíressa’s blood on her tongue but was determined to leave her neck clean. She moved to the other cut, feeling Tíressa’s hand burry itself in her hair. When Tíressa kissed Sylath again, she could taste her own blood in the other girl’s mouth, but was not deterred and began to unfasten the clasps on the front of Sylath’s dress. Sylath smiled, and let her, and they both began to experience the things they had only dreamt of doing to each other.

    A/N - well, they might have admitted their love to each other, but there’s no happily ever after for the girls yet; pain, lies, hideous misunderstandings, kidnap, war and many other things lie ahead for them. But i may or may not continue with's a bit boring...i'm sick of blood play now.
  18. mahan Registered Member

  19. Gifted World Wanderer Registered Senior Member

    Sorry, link doesn't work.
  20. poposhisho Registered Senior Member



    The People’s Capital they call it. For it is the only place where you can find two persons from countries at war playing cards together. Here you can find people trading, selling, and buying everything from a slice of cake to countries trading some of the most powerful weapons known. This place is buried deep in the mountains of Ampster, where it is protected from attack yet perfect for trade. It is also the only place not at war, since it belongs to no country in particular. This place is the city of Yeavher, where the streets are a pale shade of teal gray and the buildings all of white plaster. A place where the bars are always full and the shops never close. I love this place. And I should know, I live here.
    Who am I? My birth name is Nikeru, but nobody calls me that. Mostly I am known to be Fire Mage or just Mage, since I am the only one around for hundreds of miles. Mages don’t come to this place anymore, they are needed in the heat of battle, which is a sad thing really, to see my own kind be used for something so destructive instead of for their true purpose. The Mhirrs for example, there they are, suffering because their only ally is being used as a weapon. I wish I could help them, for one of my greatest friends is a Mhirr, but my powers are beyond that of water.
    The Mhirrs inhabit the oceans to our west, in the Seas of Azure and Carmine. They are the most peaceful people but only willing to help those who they have known for more then a century. It is surely a shame as to what they are going through. Their crops have been failing lately and a plague is greatly feared and expected.
    To our south are the Dunes of the Morn, inhabited by no one, they belong to no country. The only thing you will find there is a sunrise to die for and a whole lot of sand and sea. Even more south is the Elven City. Thousands of years old, it is the only other place where you will find peace in our world. The Elves aren’t as fickle as the men are, and won’t let war overcome their love for life. South east of here is Questa and the Cella Forest. In the forest is every type of creature, magical and non.
    If you head north, you will come across Guringa , the Nation of Cormun, and Buntvic. And to our far far east lies Midlanté. Farthest away from this place is Hanleo, the most mystical and magical of them all. Inhabited by Elves, Mages, centaurs, griffins, dragons, and is home to the Gods’ Temple.

    The four main races in my world are men, mages, elves, and mhirrs. Of course there are many others but those are the most common and the most intelligent. Chances are, if you’re reading this, you are of men and age of the normal acceleration. Mages and elves are a different matter all together. Mages age approximately one physical year to every ten human years, and can live up to about one hundred thousand human years. Mages also stop physically aging around 500 human years or 50 mage years. Elves are immortal but age such as mages. Mhirrs are what you know to be mhirrmen and mhirrmaids. They are immortal such as elves, but never seem to age much after their physical age of twenty.
    You cannot kill a mage. They die as to when they feel their time has come and their duty fulfilled. You can, however, kill a mhirr and an elf.

    _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
    I have not lived in Yeavher all my life, my true blood lies with Guringa where I was born and spent my childhood years. It is also the place where you will find my parents’ graves, both of whom are mages also. I moved to Yeavher on my fifteenth (150 human years) birthday, when my training as a mage was completed and my parents diseased. It took me about one month to come to this city, and what drew me here, I will probably never know, but I am content here and no one is complaining, so here I shall remain until further notice.

    City of Elves, Red Leaves, Age of Battles, Year 526
    My dearest friend Nikeru,

    The Great Battle has been in progress for nearly five hundred years now. The Gods have been excluded from our lives ever since. We still pray, we still choose our own god to praise, and yet they don’t answer to our talk. I feel ashamed to have known why for so long and yet not uttered a word.
    There is something blocking their gates. They hear us, Nikeru, but they are unable to answer. Back in the Age of Nothing, something, someone, cast a momentous spell upon it. I don’t know who, or what caused this, but I had to tell someone and I felt that you could take it in and put this knowledge into play. Come and see me, for there is more to tell, but I do not want to write it all down in fear for both of our sakes. A ship docked in the harbor of Cimera with the name of Juristh will take you to our Territory. Captain Mesmeer will sail with you until you come to the shore, there you will meet a true friend of mine who goes by the name of Curient, he will lead you to the city.

    My best wishes to the journey ahead of you,

    Nikeru folded the week old letter and shoved it back into her pocket. She didn’t like the sound of this. It meant that she would have to leave.

    "Ay mage!" a familiar voice shouted through the crowded streets.

    "What is it Istas?" she shouted back. As she turned around, the portly merchant smiled and put on his I-will-beg-you-till-you-die face.

    "Well, I was wondering if you would like this newly imported silk gown all the way from Midlanté my lady," he started, "It’s the most beautiful piece of clothing in all of Yeavher! It’s one of a kind and has your exact measurements! The God’s themselves have never seen anything like it!" It truly was a beautiful gown. Made with dark red and teal green cloth, and embroidered with golden rope, it shone like the sun.

    "If I was stupid enough to buy a dress, I would," Nikeru said, "but I’m not, and therefore I won’t. I have no use for a dress Istas, find me a good sword or a pouch of fae water that I have a use for!"

    "You have to be a lady sometime, mage! I bet tomorrow you’ll find yourself being swept up to King Foryae’s ball and have nothing to wear! You’ll come strait to me in the morning, I swear!" he exclaimed.

    "That would be an intriguing situation, but I am dreadfully afraid I won’t be here tomorrow."

    "What? But you ‘aven’t left ‘ere in I don’t know how long!" Istas said, amazed. "In fact, I don’t even recall you ever leaving ‘ere."

    "That’s because I haven’t. One of my long time friends has sent me a letter, and I wish to see them."

    "Changing things up that have been for a long time is bad luck, mage. If you leave I swear that all ‘ell will break loose."

    "Well then, I guess Yeavher will have to defend itself for once."

    "We’ll all miss you mage," the middle-aged man sounded truly sincere.

    "Don’t think I’ve lived here most my life not to miss it," she said, equally sincere. Nikeru bowed to her long time friend and headed towards the stables.

    She had traveled to the stables almost everyday and could walk there in her sleep. Looking around, she noticed the strange atmospheric conditions. It was like the weather goddess Cumulee couldn’t make up her mind. It was windy and cloudy, yet partially sunny with a few random showers. The trees were bare, since the winter had just past and spring was around the corner. She surprised herself by arriving minutes before she expected.

    "What is it my lady?" a male voice said from behind.

    Nikeru was stunned to see the figure. She had not seen her own kind in over one hundred human years, and to find this particular one standing before her was quite surprising. They had grown up together in Guringa and had studied in the same university. "Lethro! I haven’t seen you in what seems like forever! I would think that you would be in battle!" She said as she embraced him in a tight hug. Lethro had been born an earth mage.

    "Well," he said, returning the display of affection, "I found them a new mage that I didn’t really care for and who had better skill then I. Seemed like he even wanted the job. Buntvic was getting old anyways. So, I came here, since I heard that you roamed these streets." He had a stunning appearance, with messy dark brown hair and green eyes. Lethro stood a good six feet tall and had a smile that would make your knees weak, definitely not the one she knew from her childhood. When they were younger, he was sort of scrawny.

    "I’m sorry to ruin your fun, but I was just coming to leave. You see an old friend of mine sent me a letter not too long ago and I was going to see them. You can come along if you like, I could use someone to talk to besides my horse." Nikeru was really hoping that he would come. With his charming good looks aside, she had always, since her youth, had a crush on him, but branded the feeling of affection as being a mere infatuation.

    "Sure, I haven’t had a good adventure in I don’t know how long, and being locked up in some tower doesn’t count"

    "Great!" she said. Nikeru walked over to Mahep’s stall and noticed something strange lying in it. From a glance anyone would have passed it off as a pile of rags, but with closer examination, she found it to be one of the many things that she really didn’t need right now. "Are you serious?!"

    "What is it?" Lethro asked.

    "Come see for yourself." She said to him in a disgusted voice.

    He peered over the stall to find a round face and a pile of old polishing rags. "Well, well. Haven’t seen one of you in a long time. Why do you sound so unhappy?"

    "A toddler has no place on the road! And obviously someone wanted me to have it!" Nikeru walked over to the stall again and picked the bundle up. Tucked inside with the sleeping boy was a piece of parchment with the unmistakable sign of the mage. "Poor thing," she said, "its parents must have died in the war."

    "I wonder why they gave it to you," Lethro inquired.

    "Maybe they knew I was single, and no one knew I was about to travel, it makes sense really." Nikeru looked at the boy toddler and smiled. He appeared to be born an air mage, and had curly white hair. "I guess I’m going to have to get used to you."

    "Does it say his name anywhere?" Lethro asked.

    "Nope. I guess we’re going to have to name him," Nikeru turned to him, "What does he look like to you?"

    "I don’t know really," he replied, "I was never one for naming things, or children for that matter, but he does remind me of my grandfather, Gabriel."

    "Gabe it is then. I hope he wakes soon, I have to get going."

    "I’ll go get our horses, while I’m doing that, you might want to go get some clothing for him. Do you need any other supplies?" Lethro asked.

    "No, there’s no point in carrying extra food and shelter with us for this part of the trip, there are towns littered through out the road." She replied. Nikeru took the child out of the stables and walked towards the nearest clothing shop. From the outside, it looked like every other building in the city, but the moment you stepped inside, you knew that this was something different. There was different styles of cloth everywhere, from hanging on the walls, to littering the floor. Nikeru knew the woman who worked here well, she was another long time friend. Her name was Kelan and she was the best stewardess in the city, despite her horrible cleaning habits.

    "I’ll be right there!" Kelan yelled from a back room. "Oh! Mage! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around! What can I do for you?"

    "Well, I’ve gained a new friend here, and he needs something else besides some blankets." Nikeru said as she showed her the boy.

    "He certainly is a dear. I’ll see what I have." And she disappeared into a closet. About a minute later, Kelan came out with a stack of clothing up to her nose.

    "I don’t think I’ll need all those, maybe about half will do." She said as she took some of the pile, "Thank you Kelan, hopefully I’ll see you again."

    "Goodbye my lady." Kelan bid her.

    When Nikeru walked out form the store, she found Lethro waiting for her with his horse, Shana, and her own, dressed with their saddle bags filled with clothing.
  21. poposhisho Registered Senior Member

    im working on it
  22. Gifted World Wanderer Registered Senior Member

    I'm working on my own. Pretty good though.
  23. CounslerCoffee Registered Senior Member

    It's a good start. I'm going to merge this with the Fan Fic thread that's stickied at the top of the forum.

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