Thursday, May 28, 2009
Chapter 3
Maxwell Frostheart was walking down a path leading to his cabin in the middle of the Eastern Forest. He had come back from his morning meditations and is now feeling at peace with his emotions once more. Being without emotion is the way of a Frostheart.
His icy azure eyes were framed upon his pale bloodless face as he gazed at his surroundings, drinking in the majesty of the Forest and taking note at the sheer amount of life living there. He shook his head grimly, causing his pure white hair to scatter the morning dew that had developed on it.
He recently graduated from the School of Envir as a Frostmage. The School is an institution to train prospective spellcasters in their magical arts. However his clan sent him there not because he was talented, but because he was an embarrassment to them. And as such, he was sent away from them in disgrace as a youth.
Thinking of this threatened to disturb the inner peace his meditation had established, and so he quickly distracted himself by thinking of what he would have for lunch and wondering what Cindra and Flora, the other two inhabitants of the cabin, would be doing now.
Cindra and Flora were also graduates from the School, Cindra as a Flameweaver and Flora as a Druidess. The three of them were friends at the School and since graduation they were living together. Cindra and Flora had no qualms sharing their residence with another male, because they knew Maxwell had complete control over his emotions and would be in no way tempted by the two ravishing beauties that were his friends.
Cindra had once said that it’s just because Maxwell had a non-existent sex drive.
Unlike their peers who searched for employment from kings and lords of powerful lands, or furthering their own magical research, Cindra, Flora and Maxwell preferred to spend their time with nature.
Which is just another way of saying that they had completely no direction for with their lives yet.
Shaking his mind out of his reverie, he longed to experience what home feels like again.
Upon entering the cabin, Maxwell was assailed by two opposing odors. The strong smell of flowers originating from Flora’s room and the pungent smell of burning food originating from the kitchen.
Apparently Cindra had burnt their lunch again.
As he entered the kitchen, he saw his companions. Cindra Flameye in her traditional red robes of a Flameweaver, her crimson hair cascading to her waist as it shook with each movement of her head. And Flora na Fauna in her earthy green robes befitting of her discipline as a Druidess, her magically enhanced eyes constantly changing color in tandem with her emotions, from the bright red of anger to the flashing yellow of irritation.
Cindra was the hotheaded one, while Flora was the more rational of the two, allowing them to cover for each other’s weaknesses nicely as companions and friends.
Now however, the two of them were standing over a pot of boiling liquid and currently shouting at each other. Their friendship was apparently forgotten temporarily.
“Cindra this is the fifth time you blew up the kitchen this week! I told you not to put weird stuff in our food! Your supposed ideas are just fiction in your head!”
“Nonsense! It worked out well in theory, this way I can do thin-EEK!”
All three of them leapt for cover as the cooking pot began to spew forth yellow and black slime. All the while shaking violently before blasting its contents all over the place.
“Oh! Max is back.” Cindra noted as the three of them looked at each other from the floor.
“What did you add into the cooking pot?” Max asked Cindra mildly.
“Hmm? Oh I remembered reading somewhere that we have sodium in our bodies, so I tried to add a chunk it to our lunc-”
“You tried to add a chunk of sodium into a pot of boiling water?” Flora asked in a slightly strangled voice.
“Yup. Why’d you ask?”
“Oh no special reason,” Flora said nonchalantly, then she snapped, “JUST THAT SODIUM IS LIKE POISON TO US! AND IT EXPLODES WHEN IN CONTACT WITH WATER! WHAT? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US!?”
“SORRY FOR NOT KNOWING THAT YO-”
Ah, yes… This is definitely what home feels like. Max thought, leaving the two girls to their bickering, Hmm, I wonder how Filia is doing now?
Labels: Novel Updates
Signing off at...
9:12 PM
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Chapter 2
Where am I? It's warm… and bright… Is it morning? Am I on a bed? What was I doing before now? Ahh… my head hurts… everything’s all hazy… wait something's missing… ok, I have two hands and two legs… and two… WHAT?! MY WINGS! WHERE ARE MY WINGS?! Damn the Light! They’re gone! Oww… it hurts like hell… How could something that’s not there hurt so much? Wait a minute… Who's that girl? Beautiful emerald eyes and long lustrous teal hair… very young… probably only 10 winters old… hey… Why is she coming towards me? Is she talking to me?
"Oh! You’re awake." the girl said brightly, "You have been asleep for four days now. Not surprising though, it looks like you’ve been through something horrible… Would you like something to eat?"
"Eat?" The boy croaked, his throat dry and hoarse form lack of use and moisture, then he asked another question, "Where… am I? Who are you?"
The girl looked sincerely happy that he was awake; she helped change his bandages after taking fresh ones from a small chest next to the door and continued, "Why, you're in the chapel grounds of Greenshaven. You must be starving… hmm… let me see what I can get for you. By the way, I’m called Filia Tealhair, what’s your name?"
"Name?" the boy repeated… and like a bolt out of the blue, a vision came vividly to mind…
FLASH
They were in the woods, preparing to ambush their prey. They have trained their entire lives specifically to hunt down their hated enemies. When the targets were in position, they struck. Causing their feather-winged foes to panic and become confused from the surprise attack. The leader of their enemy quickly gained control and shouted, "Anderson! Get down! All of you to me! Defensive formations now! What? They have a Shaper? Impossible! They're supposed to be extinct!"
FLASH
"Ahh… my head…" the boy moaned in pain and anguish.
"It’s ok, you don't have to strain yourself you know, and I think you may have some memory loss. You took quite a blow to the head." Filia quickly said after seeing the boy’s discomfort as she neatly finished changing the bandages.
"My name is… Anderson… Shaper… and yes… I’d like something to eat… thank you…" the boy managed, impulsively fashioning a name for himself based on the vision he had, his voice croaked horribly from dryness.
"Anderson Shaper huh? That’s a weird name. I’ve never heard of a family name called Shaper before." Filia mused while taking out a small loaf of fresh bread with some ham from a food basket next to the bed. She also took a flask of plain water, poured some into a cup and gave it to Anderson.
Anderson gratefully watered his throat with the water and then proceeded to eat the rest of the food. Though he was ridiculously hungry, he chewed his food thoroughly before swallowing, eating his food with disciplined restraint.
"I’m sorry about what happened to your wings… I wish we could have done more to help." Filia said sadly, then suddenly changed the topic, "You’re an Harc right? I've never seen one before. I hear your people live quite a ways down south. So what are you doing all the way out here?"
"I don’t know. I can’t remember anything, it’s all blurry…" Anderson replied, though frustrated with his memory loss he savored the sound of his voice, which was no longer raspy now that it’s watered.
"That’s alright, don’t worry about it." Filia said, accepting his memory loss philosophically, "I apologize but I have to go and report that you've woken up, I think there would be some questions for you. But don't worry I'll make sure they're short. If you're still hungry, there’s more food in the basket. I’ll be back soon."
Not knowing how to react properly, Anderson just nodded as Filia left the sanatorium. He felt slightly annoyed that he was going to be questioned of all things, like some criminal. Still, he still owed the priestesses who saved his life that much at least.
He sighed. Now that he was alone, he took the opportunity to look around his room. Apart from a closet and the small chest that Filia took the bandages from, the room was practically empty. But ironically, what was most obvious was what he noticed last.
The wall next to his bed was made entirely out of glass, probably to let the patient feel at ease with nature as the window offered a most enchanting view of the chapel gardens. The aroma from the herbs and flowers there made him feel invigorated but tranquil. He took a deep breath. Allowing the fragrance to wash over him, enjoying the heady scent.
Then he heard a clash of wood on wood. Jolted out of his reverie, he quickly scanned the grounds through his window, his stomach knotted in tension at a possible attack.
After a few tense moments of searching, he finally found the source of the clash. It appears that there is a large group of priestesses brandishing wooden swords and are in a middle of a training drill. Why are priestesses having weapons training was beyond him, but he can’t help but admire their graceful strikes and elegant parries. Even so, he noticed several irregularities from many of them.
"Hmm… that one's grip is all wrong…" He mused to himself, "and that one cares more about her pose than doing the form correctly."
As he suddenly came to the realization that he made his remarks almost instinctively, he started, wait a second, how do I know these things? Was I a warrior?
He struggled to remember, trying to recall some spark of his past. But like a blind man grasping in the darkness, he could find nothing. He kept at it but was rewarded with a sharp throbbing in his head, forcing him to give up.
He nearly spat in disgust. Mentally drained, he fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Tired, but unwilling to surrender to sleep just yet. After several long moments, he heard a knock on the door before it opened and in came Filia and two other priestesses. One was tall and would be beautiful if she didn't look so stern, and another was very old but had kind, wise eyes.
I suppose the questions will come now. Anderson thought bitterly, I only hope this blasted mind of mine has the answers.
Labels: Novel Updates
Signing off at...
10:25 PM
Chapter 1
It was night.The moon was seen full and pregnant amid the roaring clashes of thunder and rain. On such a night as this, it was best to remain indoors, enjoying the warmth only a place called home could provide.
And it was on such a night as this that the young priestess Filia did her daily devotions in her room in the chapel. When she was done, she gave a sigh, withdrawing into her own thoughts. Thinking of her distant friends living in a great Forest and where would her life take her.
Being raised in this little town of Greenshaven, she was orphaned at birth. And no one knew who her parents were, she was just found one morning outside the chapel steps, and since then she was raised as a priestess.
Though she was orphaned, the townspeople treated her kindly, loving her as if she was one of their own, and she loved them back… with the only exception of Randal and his gang of friends, their existence was like a black mark on her life in this town…
A loud crash outside roused her from her thoughts; it was followed by the smell of burning flesh, which could be clearly recognized even in the pouring rain. Startled, Filia peered tentatively out of her window. There was a figure lying prone on the courtyard ground. Filia gasped, was the figure alive?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, the figure moaned in pain, Filia gave a sigh of relief, still alive.
Wasting no time, she quickly woke up her neighbors up and briefly explained the situation. As one, they hurriedly put on thick cloaks to provide some relief from the rain and swiftly headed out into the courtyard.
The four of them approached the person, whose breath was getting more and more shallow. Upon approaching, Filia could tell that the person was a teenager barely out of boyhood, around thirteen years of age. One of her companions, Cassandra, shouted over the torrent of rain, “We have to get him indoors! We can’t do anything for him out here!”
They quickly supported the boy and carried him towards the chapel, but as they got closer, he started thrashing violently and began to scream as if in terror. He struggled to the extent that they could no longer make any progress.
Filia was puzzled but then she realized something and exclaimed, “Cassie! He had wings! He’s an Harc!”
Cassandra’s eyes widened in surprise and then understanding, and hurriedly told her companions to carry the boy to the outdoor sanatorium. She understood that the race of winged-people called Harcs, are creatures of the Dark, and because of that they can’t enter a holy place like the chapel freely. But out of all the Dark races, the Harcs are one of the most righteous, ironically fighting on the side of the Light, which is the chief reason why the priestesses are still choosing to help him.
And indeed, Filia was right to say that he had wings, his shoulder blades have two very bloody stumps where his wings were supposed to be, and judging from the state of his back, his wings were apparently burned off, flesh, bones and all.
Once in the sanatorium, they started administering to the Harc’s injured body. Applying medicine and wrapping bandages as and when they are needed.
Several times they thought they lost him, but through constant prayer and vigilance, they kept his hold on the world of the living. With practiced ease, they shifted misplaced bones and realigned broken ones. With the worst taken care of, they did what they could with his other less severe injuries, like cuts and bruises, including one particularly large wound at the crown of his head. Soon they finished their administrations.
“What happened to him? Harcs live far in the south, what’s one doing here?” one of the priestesses asked with fear and curiosity.
“I don’t know… but it seems that he has a story to tell. I hope that head wound doesn’t cause any memory loss… he could have much to tell us.” Cassandra answered, “Filia, you discovered him, so you take care of his subsequent treatments. The worst has been avoided, you should be able to handle it now.”
Filia nodded in understanding and inquired, “Should I inform the High Priestess of this?”
“Not necessary for now, we’ll leave that for the morning when we break our fast.” Cassandra smiled, “Sisters, I think we should go back to our rest.”
As the priestesses bade each other good night and went back into the chapel, Filia remained behind. She looked at her sleeping patient and felt a pang of pity, what marvelous wings he should have had… but now he will never fly again…
With a stifled yawn, Filia realized how tired she was. Striding back to the chapel and effectively to her room, she changed back into her nightclothes and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Labels: Novel Updates
Signing off at...
10:21 PM
Prologue
There they stood, after an epic battle. Facing each other and staring into each other’s eyes and only saw grim determination that had spanned for over 20,000 years.
Drawing up their energy, the Seraphim and the Daemon leapt towards each other. Weapons clashed and then they were thrust aside by the force of the blow. No longer capable of summoning the strength needed to continue the fight immediately.
Both of them took the opportunity of the lull in battle to regain the strength needed to attack. They stood a little distance apart winded.
The Seraphim proclaimed, “I’ll give you this much Shaper: ‘I’m surprised you lasted this long.’ But it will end soon.”
“Do not speak so soon Harper, you of all people should know of the unpredictability of battle.” Shaper shot back.
“The tide of battle can turn easily, that is true.” Harper conceded, “So why didn’t you fight me before? Why did you flee in terror? Why not let me end it all now?”
Shaper bared his inhumanely sharp teeth in anger and shouted, “Why!? Why do you keep seeking my death!? I’ve proven myself enough; I’m not a Daemon! I’m-”
“You’re what?” Harper interrupted, “Human?”
Seeing his foe silent, Harper continued gently, “You cannot escape your nature, you are something which should not exist, you taint the ground on which you walk, defile the very air you breathe and you know it too, the charade you display as ‘human’ is losing bit by bit to your Daemonic nature.”
Shaper knew what Harper was talking about, for he can feel the Daemonic presence inside him fighting to consume all consciousness feeling it rage against his mind, eager and malicious, knowing that he can’t hold it back forever.
“I know enough of what I am, Mikearo Harper.” Shaper snapped, “but can’t those who had fallen find redemption as well? Do you even know what it feels like? Knowing I am doomed to that damned abyss the moment He died on that cross? Then what am I here for? For what purpose do I exist?”
“That is something I do not have the answer to, fallen brother.” Mikearo said softly, “But when the choice came, you have already made your decision, and suffered the consequences of it, knowing full well what you were up against.”
“I am no longer what I was. I’ve chosen what I will be. I am human. And so in this battle I will only use my identity as a human. FOR THAT’S WHAT I AM!” Shaper shouted the last part out. And like the proverbial bolt out of the blue, he attacked.
The Seraphim, clearly expecting the surprise attack smoothly sidestepped. Shaper quickly spun on his heels to parry a blow from the oncoming spear and forced his enemy back with berserker rage. He roared a victory call, but was cut short when one of Harper’s enormous wings cuffed him around the neck, throwing him back.
They took some distance and circled each other again. Shaper felt grateful for the sure weight of his sword. Aptly named Einherjar, for it holds the spirits and dreams of all his companions long past. Who even now encourage him not to surrender.
“Don’t give up my love…”
“Keep at it, bro!”
“I’ll barbeque you if you lose!”
“Idiot boy! Always getting into trouble! Do your best!”
“Don’t be so hard on him honey… he’s trying so hard now…”
“Anders… Please… See this through.”
Yes… My friends are with me. He decided they have never abandoned me. I was never alone. It’s time to do this.
They readied themselves for their final attack, all the while feeling the stress on their bodies, which was not able to keep up with their will power. Both knowing that the one left standing after this would win. They sped towards each other executing their respective finishing attacks.
~Anderson Shaper (EXECUTION Level: Demonic Descension)~
~Mikearo Harper (EXECUTION Level: Divine Ascension)~
They had very similar attacks in nature to begin with, the attack is mainly focused on letting loose a string of continuous strikes after an initial stab with no thought of defense. Each blow only meant to do as much damage in the shortest possible time.
Zipping forward to stab each other. Their bodies were so close that they were almost touching, each could smell the other’s anger, hear the exhaustion, feel the other’s life force literally being drained from the body.
Shaper felt the fiery spear of his enemy at his waist in which it had impaled. He felt the flames burning his veins, hungrily wanting to consume him. At the same time knowing that his foe feels the same as his searing sword found its mark on him as well. Summoning their last scrap of strength and draining their life-energy, they let loose their prowess.
And so they struck blow after blow, each ignoring the damage they took in, and just forcing their tortured bodies to land one more attack, to land another and another, just one more, no, one more, again, another one… …
In a split second after they had first stabbed each other, it was over. Blood splattered everywhere. And again they stood facing each other. Shaper knew that there was no way the both of them would still live after this battle. But his mind stubbornly held on to life, simply refusing to give in to his Daemonic presence prowling the edges of his consciousness waiting to consume him.
All his thoughts save two ceased; I will not fall before Harper! And I will not give in to this accursed Daemon! But he knew he was dying, his past was flashing before his eyes… …
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Signing off at...
10:09 PM
